The thought-cake stream is only visible at night. Big white
cakes moving slow, one after the other, into oblivion. These
cakes aren't to be eaten. They're just for show, as though the
night needed their senseless procession to remain its own
dark self. One night you will wade out, when the hunger
becomes too much, and you will taste this cake, and you
will know, then, for certain, that it was only for show.
For no reason, no event, do I persist, echo. I persist, echo,
only in order not to, and not to, and not to. I am a defense—
altogether a defense—and a defense employed by I know
not who. Sometimes, my meal finished, I sit in my booth
and wonder: what am I defending? And I can only answer:
I am defending whatever it is that I am devouring.
Today I had a Biggie. Usually I just have a small, and refill.
Why pay more? But today I needed a Biggie inside me.
Some days, I guess, are like that. Only a Biggie will do. You
wake up and you know: today I will get a Biggie and I will
put it inside me and I will feel better. One time I saw a guy
with three Biggies at once. One wonders not about him but
about what it is that holds us back.
When my head hurts I don't need a doctor to tell me why;
I know it's because there's nowhere to put it. Where it's put
dissolves, and then there is my head, scorching, freezing,
dripping against a simple insistence on temporary limits.
Today was just so. I felt such revulsion looking at my fries,
each one exposed so much like myself, but even needier,
trusting me, my head, belly, for shelter. There's no shelter
I often think about over-eating. It's strange that I never have.
Each bite of my mustard-only double-cheeseburger is so
good that I reel in the aftermath. The meaty goodness
obliterates as much as it secures. I'm a fleshy bell, incapable
of vibrating any more vigorously. If I rang out with any more
force I don't know that I would remain a bell—and I don't
know that the air could stand me.
Hello Everyone!!! Last night mcMüller hit me up on my car phone and told me he is going on a Bill Clinton-style excursion up to Canada...mostly for rest and relaxation. But also to see a moose swimming in pristine water, etc. He will be gone for I forgot how long. He will be missed. Apparently he has figured out how to program the VCR such that some crude futures posts will appear remotely whilst he is kayaking Up North, computerless. bravo!. OK!!!
Anywaze, people have been hitting me up on IM sumthin fierce asking when crude futures is gonna become an internet sports gossip site again...and being that we are roughly 4-6 weeks into various European soccer seasons I realized I had to take my own temperature/ask myself: "WHAT IS UP!?" well, fuck!, I am ready...let's do this!!!
William Sadler and Robert Redford have just contributed their voices to a Pixar animated short about a couple of worn leather briefcases — one brown, one black — who have been locked in a retiree's dark, forgotten hallway closet for seven years. Sadler also plays the closet's high-pitched interior doorknob, a character who has lost the trust of the briefcases by repeatedly claiming to know how to speak to lightswitches throughout the house.
William Sadler and Robert Redford are co-writing a joint autobiographical screenplay titled Robam Sadford. In the film, Redford will play Sadler at all stages of Sadler's life and Sadler will do the same for Redford. According to a bogus source, Redford and Sadler plan to play their roles very unstraightforwardly and violently. Playing the teenaged Redford, Sadler is expected to shout every single line, through tears, at the top of his lungs. Redford will play Sadler as a character who performs a doubletake whenever anyone speaks to him. Barbra Streisand and Michelle Pfeiffer have agreed to cameo, and so has Rutger Hauer, who will play Ron Howard.
William Sadler is financing a musical.
William Sadler coined the word "fanecdote" in a description of his approach to autobiographical public speaking: "With buffet dinner crowds I have the urge to tell my whole story, but I also have an urge to entertain. I try to feel out my audiences like anyone would. It's a give-and-take between levity and brevity on one hand and thoroughness on the other. What I usually do is pluck a scene from my life. The way I talk, the fans know that certain things I'm saying might not be fact. And that's totally okay. They know I'm giving them a stylized, staccato, joke-laced version of events. This is the kind of storytelling that works best with a crowd of strangers seated at circular tables eating dinner together: the fan-anecdote, or fanecdote. People need something to pay attention to, and I can provide that. I am that."
Sadler sued his Shawshank Redemption character for wilfully mispronouncing the last name of Alexandre Dumas in front of Tim Robbins.
Freckles have emigrated from other people's faces and arms onto William Sadler's face.
Every summer since 1986, William Sadler and his father have traveled to Evansville, Indiana to search yard sales for late-1970s high school yearbooks containing photos of DonMattingly. The pair offer their findings for sale through classified ads in Beckett price guides. [IMDB]