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What’s the last time you were in a police station?
In LA, about 42 years ago. At two in the morning, I was driving in the Valley and stopped a police car to ask the way. They said, “Have you been drinking, sir?” I said, “Of course I’ve had a drink; it’s two in the morning.” [They took me in], but they were very nice. I paid a £400 fine the next day and that was it.
The funny thing was, the cop came out [of the car] and talked to me, and at the same time, he looked behind and said, “Does it show anything on his record?” And I look round, and it was a police woman who looked exactly like Lucille Ball, but with a police outfit on. Earrings, hair up, the holster in the gun – I’ll come willingly.
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قسمت های دیگر در این پادکست
In smoky halls where shadows dance,
There strides a man with flair and stance.
With saxophone in hand, he's seen,
Shane Ritchie, the jazz machine.
His fingers glide on keys so fine,
A melody born from his mind's design.
Each note he plays, a tale untold,
In his jazz world, he's bold and bold.
…
You are asThe silver moonlightWhich with its graceDances on the surface of this lake.You, who penetrates my depthsAnd ripples into my beingCausing waves to quake.I will be your shelter,In my open armsI will be your rest.I will be as the caves of old,Within me you may find peaceFrom the raging temp…
Pepper, I know you're going to be upset'Cause I was always your little girlBut you should know by now, I'm not a babyYou always taught me right from wrongI need your help, daddy, please be strongI may be young at heart, but I know what I'm sayingThe one you warned me all aboutThe one you said I cou…
and in the moment of silence,i search for my forsaken voice,buried somewhere,far and adrift,under the summit of sufferings,the rivers of rage,under trampled dreams,under the mottled page,the voice so aloof,i have forgotten it so well,the past of calamity,only if i had a voice; i could tell
They set it yesterday. I watched them pourThe wobbling liquid into its glass mould,Translucent, promising: The recipe called forPatience, and a larder running cold.
But jellies fail. Mine's still a slop of red,Refusing to cohere, to find its form.The other's jelly trembles, perfectly deadTo doubt. …
سلب مسئولیت: پادکست و آثار هنری تعبیه شده در این صفحه متعلق به slanderhour است که متعلق به صاحب آن است و به Listen Notes، Inc وابسته یا تایید نشده است.
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