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i'll bet all the cool accounts here get hacked by bad-ass kremlin spies with fast cars and secret james bondy gadgets. meanwhile... i'm over here gettin' hacked by shecky the trainee.

this.

"no! i'm sorry, but charlotte is grounded and will not be listening to original songs, or watching your mating hop, or viewing any colourful plumage today. the end of the branch is that way."

"in the name of god, creator of heaven—" "wait! i changed my mind." "what?!" "i don't wanna go under water." "it's only for a moment." "i'm claustrophobic. i wanna be jewish instead." "they cut your penis off." "WHAT?!?" "yeah, so do you accept jesus—" "WAIT! what's the reincarnation one?"

"...cause if ya stand like that, boyo, someone what knows kung foo is gonna come up and go... BOOM!" "AAAAAARGH!" "—right in yer giggle-berries." "FUCK YOU!!"

i first met sam neill in the late 80's on the set of jeremy brett's sherlock holmes. i think it was manchester studios. he and jeremy were pals. i was moving a light wi'out gloves cause i'm a tosser. i burned my hand. yelled "FUCK!" jeremy came right over, sam (who was visiting) in tow. (1/4)

"wow... you're... glowing." "stop saying that, nathan! just STOP! everyone says that—'oh, you're just glowing, beatrice!' pregnancy SUCKS, NATHAN! I'M FAT AND DISGUSTING AND IT'S YOUR FAULT!" "...no—i mean—you're head is 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 glowing—" "SHUT UP AND GET ME ANOTHER PICKLE!!"

which way do we go?" "we go forward, pal." "...forward looks scary." "so we'll go together." "okay... thank you." "you're welcome. you know you're a gigantic fuckin' grizzly bear, right?"

"MALCOLM!" "yeah?" "STOP SHAGGING THE TREE!" "...i'm not." "REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED LAST TIME?! I WON'T HELP YOU AGAIN!" "okay." "I MEAN IT!" "...okay." "YOU'RE ALREADY STUCK AREN'T YOU!" "...a little... uh... yes."

"yeah... you're stuck pretty good, pal. who was steering, stevie wonder? heh—well... me and the fellas can dig you out, but it's gonna cost you some fish... and one of those big nets you got." "...𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘶𝘯!" "oh, yeah! AND a harpoon gun. you got a harpoon gun?"

"oh-my-god... i think it's a 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯!" "it's not a dragon." "it 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 be a dragon. some dragons have magic." "dragons don't exist. it's... some... thing..." "of course it's 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨." "shut up. i'm thinking." "...𝘺𝘰𝘶 shut up." "it's not moving." "oh-my-god... i think it's a gargoyle!"

"𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨?" "i added some bling." "𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘵." "so?" "𝘴𝘰... 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘴." "shut up." "...𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘓𝘦𝘪𝘢'𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯, 𝘏𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘺." "i'm ignoring you." "𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩."

"my ai is okay." "yeah. his ai is okay." "yeah. it's the other ai that's bad." "yeah. it's the other ai that's bad." "yeah."

i was friends wi' eddie money. he would ring me up, we'd go hang at the beverly garland hotel on lankershim in north hollywood, and try to drink ourselves sober. one time i was explaining what a "wanker" is and we concluded "jerk off" was basically the same. then he said: "...like ted nugent."

"I TOOK ONE AFTERNOON OFF, MARTIN! ONE SUNDAY for lunch with the girls!! and i come back here to find the microwave exploded with a half-cooked FORK inside it, andrea's covered from beak to feet in cake frosting, and maurice threw up alphabetti spaghetti on the cat because you let him TRY BEER?!?"

in my 60 years, i've learned a few things that might help: • people fuck off if you carry a potato and talk to it. • children aren't smarter than you; they just have better tech. • shit happens and it's often the same shit over and over again. • growing old sucks; live long and prosper my arse.