I don’t believe in angels and I have trouble with the whole God thing. I don’t want to say I don’t believe in God, but I don’t think I do. But I believe in people who do.
The human race has been set up. Someone, somewhere, is playing a practical joke on us. Apparently, women need to feel loved to have sex. Men need to have sex to feel loved. How do we ever get started.
Chic Murray once told me he fell in the street, and a woman said to him, “Did you fall?” He said, “No, I’m tryin’ to break a bar of chocolate in my back pocket.”
Oh aye…my Father would thrash me every now and then. He’d talk while he did it too! He’d hit me and shout, ‘Have ye had enough?’ Had enough? Whit kind of question is that? ‘Why, Father, would another kick in the balls be out of the question???’
I just believe in the movie. I don’t care what the book was like. I don’t care what the previous film was like or other films were like. I care only about the script I’ve got.
Sometimes there’s a tackiness about Route 66 that out-tacks any tackiness I’ve ever seen anywhere else. And the Meramec Caverns are the pinnacle of that tack.
