So last Sunday night I was sitting on a restaurant patio on a side street south of Peachtree Avenue in Atlanta, and Mark Wahlberg walks by, headed south. And I'm thinking, okay, that couldn't have actually been Mark Wahlberg; what the hell would he be doing walking down an Atlanta side street at 10 o'clock on a Sunday night? So I order another beer, and about ten minutes later, there's Larry David walking east. And I'm thinking, okay, Mark Wahlberg walking down a side street in Atlanta is unlikely; Larry David walking down the same street ten minutes later means that after three beers I start to hallucinate.
Yesterday at lunch the Set Decorator is all bubbly bouncy excited, going on about I just had to talk with him and tell him how great his stuff is, I always wanted to meet him, you'd all better get down to stage if you want to meet him, he's leaving soon. Who? Yeah, Larry David. He came by for a few days to hang with the Farrellys, who are apparently friends, or something.
The moral of the story: sometimes when you are hallucinating, you are not hallucinating.
Cue Curb Your Enthusiasm music: BAA ba ba, ba BAA ba ba, BABABA baaaa ba ba, ba BA ba ba...
Yesterday at lunch the Set Decorator is all bubbly bouncy excited, going on about I just had to talk with him and tell him how great his stuff is, I always wanted to meet him, you'd all better get down to stage if you want to meet him, he's leaving soon. Who? Yeah, Larry David. He came by for a few days to hang with the Farrellys, who are apparently friends, or something.
The moral of the story: sometimes when you are hallucinating, you are not hallucinating.
Cue Curb Your Enthusiasm music: BAA ba ba, ba BAA ba ba, BABABA baaaa ba ba, ba BA ba ba...