Getbig.com: American Bodybuilding, Fitness and Figure
Getbig Main Boards => Gossip & Opinions => Topic started by: Tapeworm on November 20, 2010, 05:57:14 PM
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Conceive of it.
(http://i.telegraph.co.uk/telegraph/multimedia/archive/01402/wallace1_jpg__1402518c.jpg)
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Looks like the kind of guy that enjoying watching little boys play on the jungle-gym through a chain linked fence while eating Skittles...
bodybuilding related because I wrote "gym"
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Conceive of it.
(http://i.telegraph.co.uk/telegraph/multimedia/archive/01402/wallace1_jpg__1402518c.jpg)
Haha! You f*cker! Ok. A couple years ago, I was in Toronto for a big book festival. I was running late for my event, as I'd met up with some big city friends for far too many pints. Anyway, this book reading thingy had a few authors on the bill, so I thought no problem I'll just chill out on the second floor by the bar and try to find a seat after the intermission. So, I'm slamming a few shots and a few generous pours of wine, and the door to the upper boxes (loges) opens up and out of this door comes a very recognizable Wallace Shawn walks out flipping open his phone to take a call (apparently his wife is an author!?). Across 30' of space, leaning aslope on the bar, I yell "Wallace Shawn: in Toronto: 'Inconceivable!" The bartenders are in stitches, but he looks at me with a here-we-go-again stare, gives me one of those 'hey, how you doin,' his two fingers doing the 'let's-wind-it-up' circles and goes back to his call. Shitty aside, but I was most amazed that in my depths, I could come up with not only his name but come up cracking wise. I'm sure he has no memory of it.
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Haha! You f*cker! Ok. A couple years ago, I was in Toronto for a big book festival. I was running late for my event, as I'd met up with some big city friends for far too many pints. Anyway, this book reading thingy had a few authors on the bill, so I thought no problem I'll just chill out on the second floor by the bar and try to find a seat after the intermission. So, I'm slamming a few shots and a few generous pours of wine, and the door to the upper boxes (loges) opens up and out of this door comes a very recognizable Wallace Shawn walks out flipping open his phone to take a call (apparently his wife is an author!?). Across 30' of space, leaning aslope on the bar, I yell "Wallace Shawn: in Toronto: 'Inconceivable!" The bartenders are in stitches, but he looks at me with a here-we-go-again stare, gives me one of those 'hey, how you doin,' his two fingers doing the 'let's-wind-it-up' circles and goes back to his call. Shitty aside, but I was most amazed that in my depths, I could come up with not only his name but come up cracking wise. I'm sure he has no memory of it.
I'm amazed he hasn't got a good humoured stock reply at the ready. Good on ya for knowing his name. I'd have drawn a blank and sat there like a mushroom.
Hmmm. Your Wallace Shawn drunk vs my William Shatner stoned. You got a laugh but I saw real fear in my victim's eyes. I guess I'm willing to call it a draw. Whoa. Both W.S. It's... unbelievable!