White Trash food, canning, pies, beets, turkey, bread pudding, asparagus, potlucks, sweet potatoes, rhubarb, spinach, Easter bunnies, jellybeans, ice cream, apricots, and dog food served as paté
3:58 p.m., Feb. 19
I first see Him on the screen of the open sewer that was the Howard Theatre on Howard St. underneath the el. With all due respect, Marty, my 17-year-old butt is there based solely on the Boxcar Bertha spread in Playboy magazine. Instead, you appear like an angel out of this filthy 1,625-seat mass.
I came for the tits and stayed for, Marty. It was you. It's never been anyone but you. You got that?
Do whatcha gotta do today, everybody, but at some time take a moment to honor Him by watching one of his pictures. Even if something as brief as the Life Lessons segment of New York Stories — that the pigs at Disney finally saw fit to put out in a letterbox edition — set aside an hour or two to praise His name.
I don't know if this makes sense, but you're my hallelujah. Personally, I plan on spending the weekend re-watching all of his films, this time in alphabetical order.
Happy 69, ya' bastard!