What I actually meant was his book "With Nails," which includes his diaries from the filming of W&I, Warlock, Henry & June, LA Stories, Hudson Hawk, The Player, Dracula, The Age of Innocence, and Pret a Porter. I bought it in England in 1996. Amazon shows a 1999 paperback with the same cover photo, so it probably is the same inside as well. Actually, now that I look, the Minuteman Library network also owns copies, so I guess having my own copy isn't so unusual.
I spent Sunday night and Monday on my version of a two-day drunk (it involved a bottle of perry and some codeinated paracetamol). And now I emerge to find you have been writing. PRRRT.
Also I sold the thingy. To Stone Telling. You were right.
Well, perry is rather tasty; I think more scenes should be written including it. It's one of the few alcoholic liquids I can be put to the hellish trouble of drinking. It's got elegance.
The licorice tea might help me wash out the mouthbadgers...
The licorice tea might help me wash out the mouthbadgers...
Well, because you were out of commission this weekend, I dreamed of another dead guy: a codemaker in the Second World War, the brother of someone I was better friends with, fair-haired, with those little round glasses that look like silver coins in the wrong light. He wasn't dead when I met him, but he was very shortly going to be; a night raid over London, the usual. He wanted me to come and visit him, and I knew there wouldn't be anyone to visit by the time he could get the day off.
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Nine
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I have seen Withnail & I; it's brilliant. Do you mean you have the script or the diaries surrounding the making of the film?
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JUST WHY.
*sobs into a vinegar bath*
You're having culture and I smell like a pickle.
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Take comfort; I cleaned the refrigerator this afternoon because it was full of pickle juice. The Vlasic had made a break for it.
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PRRRT.
Also I sold the thingy. To Stone Telling. You were right.
Would you like a slice of hangover?
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. . . I was writing a scene with a bottle of perry. I don't think I should add paracetamol, but I'm just saying.
Also I sold the thingy. To Stone Telling. You were right.
Prrrrrt.
Would you like a slice of hangover?
No, thank you; I don't think it goes with licorice tea.
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The licorice tea might help me wash out the mouthbadgers...
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Well, because you were out of commission this weekend, I dreamed of another dead guy: a codemaker in the Second World War, the brother of someone I was better friends with, fair-haired, with those little round glasses that look like silver coins in the wrong light. He wasn't dead when I met him, but he was very shortly going to be; a night raid over London, the usual. He wanted me to come and visit him, and I knew there wouldn't be anyone to visit by the time he could get the day off.
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If you haven't already, quick, see Withnail and I (1986)!
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I like him enough, I'll give him a pass!
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Glad to help.