Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Doralee: "Look, I've got a gun out there in my purse. Up until now I've been forgivin' and forgettin' because of the way I was brought up, but I'll tell you one thing. If you ever say another word about me or make another indecent proposal, I'm gonna get that gun of mine, and I'm gonna change you from a rooster to a hen with one shot! And don't think I can't do it."
9 to 5, 1980
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
Former Miss Argentina Solange Magnano died Sunday, November 29th, from complications arising during a gluteoplasty—or butt. A friend of the former beauty queen told the Associated Press that liquid injected during the procedure had somehow traveled to her lungs and brain. After three days in critical care in a Buenos Aires hospital, Magnano ultimately died of a pulmonary embolism, or blocked artery in the lung.
Magnano was the mother of 7-year-old twins. She won the Miss Argentina crown in 1994, and remained popular throughout the country. Most recently she had been working on a runway show scheduled for December.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
"The best kind of rain, of course, is a cozy rain. This is the kind the anonymous medieval poet makes me remember, the rain that falls on a day when you'd just as soon stay in bed a little longer, write letters or read a good book by the fire, take early tea with hot scones and jam and look out the streaked window with complacency." ~Susan Allen Toth, England For All Seasons
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Richie’s room has been converted into a makeshift hospital room. Royal lies on an electric hospital bed. He has an IV in his arm and a tube in his nose. There are several monitors and machines breathing and humming. There are numerous bottles of pills and medicines on the night stand.
Pagoda has on a surgical mask and scrubs.
Chas stands in the doorway. Richie is behind him.
CHAS: Get out.
ROYAL: All right. Let me just collect my things.
Royal sits up on the edge of the bed. He is dressed in pink surgical scrubs.
ROYAL: Would you mind handing me my cane, Richie?
Richie hands Royal his cane. Royal struggles to his feet. He rolls the IV stand beside him.
ROYAL: Let’s see, now. Where’s my suitcase?
Royal’s knee gives out. He staggers a step. He grips the back of a chair and looks to Richie with a surprised expression. He collapses on to the floor. He produces a wooden spoon, which he takes between his teeth.
Richie and Pagoda rush over and kneel on the floor beside Royal. Chas frowns. Richie yells out the door:
ROYAL: Grab me Nembutal, a son.
The Royal Tenenbaums, 2001
Armande Voizin: I've got something for you, boy. I've been carrying it around since your last birthday. It's a book of poetry.
Luc Clairmont: Oh. Thank you.
Armande: You don't like poetry?
Luc: Oh no, no, of course. I do.
Armande: Neither do I. It's not that kind of poetry.