Sunday, April 16, 2006

"Joan Wilder, Write us out of this one." "Joan Wilder? The Joan Wilder? You are Joan Wilder, the novelist?" "Yes, I am." "I read your books ..."




Jack Colter: "Joan Wilder, Write us out of this one."
Juan: "Joan Wilder? The Joan Wilder? You are Joan Wilder, the novelist?"
Joan Wilder: "Yes, I am"
Juan: "I read your books ... "


... I finished my taxes. Now I pay through the nose and well. Maybe buy some some new stuff so I feel better.

I am sure they will audit me and I will have made some huge snafu. I only screamed at the cat once. Just now. If it totally blows out -- look for me in South America.

It was a great movie:
[Jack shows off his new, crocodile skin, boots, made from the crocodile he
has killed]
Joan Wilder: I like the boots.
Jack Colton: Yeah, that poor old yellow-tailed guy... developed a fatal case of indigestion. He died right in my arms.
Joan Wilder: I can't blame him. If I were to die there's nowhere on earth I'd rather be.

That's pretty sick, but -- it is like I've died and gone to heaven. I have paid my taxes, and I am free.

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