Sprocket doesn't like thunder. She doesn't like it when she's alone, I presume, and there's nothing I can do to calm her. She's a bit frustrating, really. When I had my feet up on the couch, she was under my knees hiding. When I was sitting doing computer stuff, she sat behind me, leaning more and more against me the louder the thunder got.
She's a charmer, that little dog. And she sheds a lot, too. I made a scale model of her out of left over hair. It doesn't shiver, though.
destry rides again
Jimmy Stewart, one of my favorite favorites, is Destry in the movie Destry Rides Again. I like the movie. it's not perfect, but it's pretty darned good. And Jimmy Stewart is in it. And he has a marvelous couple of lines:
Kent: I'll start by telling you a have a...a very peculiar hobby.
Destry: Uh-huh. So have I...Mine's, uh, carving napkin rings. What's yours?
Kent's wasn't nearly as peculiar. He liked to be a bully.
The Bartender: Prunes everyday for breakfast, I don't mind. Torn sheets, I've got used to. But pants, I cannot swallow.
Somebody took his pants. What an odd way to say it.
Destry: What are my pants doing on your legs?
Boris: These are the legs of a Stavrogin of Bardicheff. Let your pants remain on them and earn their gratitude. Refuse, and take their curse.
Destry: I think I'll take both the curse and the pants.
Boris was the one who stole the bartender's pants.
Frenchy: I warned you
Destry: I still have the rabbit's foot
Frenchy: You're going to need it.
Destry: Is it a big, strong rabbit?
So of course she saves the day.
Gyp: Cheese. Cheese. Cheese for breakfast! Cheese for lunch! Tell my brother to stop sending me cheese! I ain't no mouse.
Boris: I tell him.
Boris is wonderful and so wants to make people happy. His English isn't perfect, though. He is also a silly man. And has many silly things to say.
Boris: Yes, mon commandant. I am a courier! Fast as a bolt of lightning! Silent as the night itself!
Boris: I am a mummy; I'm a sphinx. I don't answer questions.
Frenchy: Thirty bucks against your pants
Boris: My pants? Oh, no. Thirty bucks, huh? My pants. Thirty bucks...
Frenchy: Come on, maybe you've got me beat.
Boris: Aha! I've been waiting for you to tell me I've got you beat so I would think I have not got you beat, but I personally know I have got you beat with my two kinds against your lonely ace. Haven't I, Frency?
Frenchy: Thirty bucks against your pants.
Boris: Oh, what to do, what to do...
An entire scene goes by and Boris still hasn't decided.
Boris: Frenchy, have I got you beat?
Frenchy: Why don't you call me and find out.
Boris: I'll call. I'll bet my pants.
she has two aces
Boris: I was right! Why didn't I listen to myself?
Boris: Observe my brain in action! Now, where would I go if I were a dead body? Would I stay out in the open? No. No privacy....That's right. Would I go under the ground? No, there's no future in it!
Posted by dotty at June 29, 2005 11:41 PM