“Before we start—I’m sorry, toots—what’s your name again?” “Beekeeper.” “Okay, Mavis. I just want to tell you that I’m not gonna talk about my marriage. Y’know. To you-know-who…” “Banana?” “Because I’m not here to provide material for the gossip rags. It’s nobody’s goddamn business. Hedda Hopper can go pound sand up her ass—pardon my French.”Continue reading “Hollywood”
Crumbling Asphalt 