Monday, December 20, 2021
Tuesday, November 30, 2021
Monday, November 1, 2021
Dean, expect the unexpected!
"What was fun working on Dean's Show was you always expected to hear the unexpected.
I'd love to get you
On a slow boat to China"
Saturday, October 23, 2021
Dean Martin - "S'posin'" - LIVE
All eyes on Dean, he hops on the piano, sings "You made me love you, you woke me up to do it," Audience cracks up... Dean Sprinkles his cigarette ashes on Kenny Lane's right shoulder "Now You're a General." Walks over to the "Gouch." "King of Cool takes over." DeanMartinBlog.com https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=POWm8ryqGIk&t=22s
Wednesday, October 20, 2021
I'm goin over to the 'GOUCH!" - I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face (
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C-8oNlaxbRU
Tuesday, September 21, 2021
Meet the "Rat Pack."
Short Dino Bio
Dean Martin was born Dino Paul Crocetti to Italian-American parents in the town of Steubenville, Ohio in 1917. His first language was Italian and didn’t learn how to speak English until the age of five.
He dropped out of school at age 15 to become a boxer under the name “Kid Crochet.” At the same time he began to work with local bands, calling himself “Dino Martini” after the Metropolitan Opera tenor Nino Martini. In the early 1940s he began to sing for bandleader Sammy Watkins, who later asked Dino to change his name to “Dean Martin”. He worked for various bands in the early 1940s, while also performing in various nightclubs.
Martin formed a friendship with Jerry Lewis and the act of Martin and Lewis eventually became an iconic comedy duo, and both eventually signed a deal with Paramount Pictures in 1949, for a radio show. The duo performed in many Hollywood films, but Martin and Lewis’s act eventually broke up in 1956, 10 years to the day of the first teaming.
Martin found some success as a Hollywood actor, while keeping up his singing career at the same time. Martin, along with other famous singers, such as Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jr., formed the The Rat Pack, they performed together while also appearing in movies, most famously Ocean’s 11.
He later hosted many television shows, such as The Dean Martin Show, and The Dean Martin Celebrity Roast.
Martin continued his career for some years and was married 3 times to 3 separate women. He was a heavy smoker, was diagnosed with lung cancer at Cedars Sinai Medical Center in September 1993, and died at the age of 78 in 1995 from acute respiratory failure resulting from emphysema.
Sunday, September 19, 2021
Sunday's on the Dean Martin Show.
Watching Dean work back in 1966....working on his show was a breeze. He said..."I don't even breathe hard." "I go to the studio at 1 on Sunday afternoon and I'm out of there by nine. That's all there is to it."
Saturday, September 11, 2021
Friday, September 10, 2021
Dino
"So please meet me in the plaza near your casa
I am only one, and one is much too few
On an evening in Roma
Don't know what the country's coming to
But in Rome do as the Romans do
Will you, on an evening in Roma."
Dom Deluise
"You're nobody till somebody loves you." Next to the women that idolized and loved Dean Martin, one man stands out that fell in the same category. Dom Deluise. He was Italian, proud of his heritage and loved being with Dean. Dom was as "Zany" on and off stage. He would kibitz with us during commercial breaks, and couldn't wait to do sketches with Dino. Since Dean wasn't a big fan of memorizing his lines, Dom would "ad lib" and the longer the skit, the more "off the wall" it became. They truly enjoyed each other's company. I was standing next to Dom before he did his entry, there was so much excitement on his face, I could feel the energy he was about to unleash on "old Dino." If the truth be told, Dom Deluise was one of Deans favorites. In my view, Dom would not have been as big a star without Dean's help. Two very funny men!
Monday, September 6, 2021
Tuesday, August 31, 2021
A funny Dean Martin moment. I was sitting in my chair watching the news a few days ago. As fate would have it, I lifted my right bottom and yes I "broke wind." Yes you read that right. It immediately reminded me of Dino story. It was a busy Sunday on the Dean Martin set during an afternoon taping in the late 60's. Dean did a short monologue then finished singing "You're Nobody Till Somebody Loves You," then we went to a commercial. I was standing within a few feet of Dean with the cue card and makeup guy, Dean scooted up on his bar stool, we heard "squeak," Dino "cut one." I looked at the cue card guy, and the makeup guy, they looked at me, then I looked at Dean, and he winked. "The King of Cool" and the three of us "burst in laughter." "Let's have a Vino for Dino!"
Saturday, August 28, 2021
Dean Martin Bio
Playboy called him “the coolest man who ever lived.” Elvis Presley worshipped him. “He was the coolest dude I’d ever seen, period,” recalled Stevie Van Zandt, adding, “He wasn’t just great at everything he did. To me, he was perfect.”
That man is Dean Martin. Simply put, he was a great singer. The warm sensuality of his voice continues to beguile generations of music fans with a winning style and a touch of mystery.
Born Dino Crocetti in Steubenville, Ohio, his early autobiography is as gritty as that of any hip-hop star. He delivered bootleg liquor, served as a speakeasy croupier and blackjack dealer, worked in a steel mill and briefly ruled the ring as boxing phenom Kid Crochet. Winning his share of bouts earned him little apart from a broken nose, but Dino’s speakeasy experience put him in contact with club owners, resulting in his first singing gigs.
With a fixed nose and a boost from his pals in the nightclub underworld, he became Dean Martin, styling himself after the top male vocalist of the time, Bing Crosby, and met Frank Sinatra in New York.
Martin released his first single, “Which Way Did My Heart Go?” and was first paired with comic Jerry Lewis. The two shared a bill at the 500 Club in Atlantic City, but the night they combined their acts into a combo of manic comedy and debonair music saw the birth of a phenomenon. They were the hottest ticket around and parlayed their onstage success into a string of hit movies and television appearances.
During Martin and Lewis’ decade-long partnership, Dean had such hits as “Memories Are Made of This,” “That’s Amore,” “Powder Your Face With Sunshine,” and “You Belong to Me,” among others, all for the Capitol label. Yet when their partnership dissolved, showbiz pundits predicted Lewis’ star would continue to rise and Martin’s would fizzle.
The singer confounded the skeptics. As a solo act he was wowing crowds in Vegas, impressing critics and audiences in a series of dramatic film roles, scoring on TV with Dean Martin Show specials for NBC, and hitting the charts again with “Return to Me” and “Volare.”
Not soon after, Martin’s affiliation with Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis, Jr. and the rest of the fabled Rat Pack supplanted his earlier rep. He fueled his image as a boozing playboy in onstage antics with his pals and ring-a-ding ensemble films like Ocean’s Eleven, yet Martin later claimed his cocktail-swilling persona was largely a pose.
Though he left Capitol to sign with Sinatra’s fledgling Reprise label, Martin capped his tenure there with a bang, releasing two classic singles, “Ain’t That a Kick in the Head” and “You’re Nobody ‘Til Somebody Loves You,” showcasing him at the height of his powers.
Even at the height of Beatlemania with the group topping the charts, Martin reasserted himself with typical aplomb knocking the Fab Four from their perch with the buttery anthem “Everybody Loves Somebody.” Several other hits, including “The Door Is Still Open to My Heart,” “I Will,” “Houston” and “Send Me the Pillow You Dream On,” followed during his years at Reprise.
Though he continued to perform, Martin’s visibility was greatest in films and on TV, where he nursed his lush-in-a-tux image with the long-running Dean Martin Variety Show and the hugely successful Dean Martin’s Celebrity Roast.
His effortless vocalizing has become a modern shorthand for cool, as evidenced by the use of his songs in films, television, and ad campaigns. Dino: The Essential Dean Martin, a recent collection of both the Capitol and Reprise eras, sold more briskly than any previous Martin recording, going gold within months and platinum within a year.
Biographer Nick Tosches (Dino: Living High in the Dirty Business of Dreams) described Martin as a classic menefreghista, Italian for “one who does not give a f—.” The term, in Dean Martin’s case, conveys not indifference but a refusal to be beaten down by the world and a determination to greet life with an easy smile, a graceful melody and an aura of unflappable cool.
Sunday, August 15, 2021
Saturday, August 14, 2021
Barbara Eden still beautiful after all these years.
A Short Dean Martin Story
A DREAM, AN APPARITION, AND FATE
(or How And Why I Found Dean Martin)D.J. Starling (djstarling.com)
On March 23, 1987, I heard the horrible news. A fighter jet and its pilot, thirty-five-year-old United States Air Force Captain Dean Paul Martin, had disappeared from radar screens during a routine training mission two days earlier. My heart stopped. Not my Dino. It couldn’t be. From that moment on, I listened to all news reports, praying for his safety, feeling his family’s pain.
*I’ve been a Dean Martin fan since I was a child in the early ‘60s. Handsome and sophisticated, he lived a swinging show biz life that fascinated me.
By the age of 10 in 1965, my attention had turned to the world of teen idols. Paul McCartney was my favorite, but his allure faded when I discovered a new face in the teen fan magazines I read religiously. One look at one grainy photograph and I was in love with the blond, blue-eyed boy who played bass guitar for a trio new to the music world. They called themselves Dino, Desi, and Billy.
It was quite a surprise when I learned that the boy I was dreaming about, thirteen-year-old Dino, was the son of my earlier hero, Dean. Their unexpected family ties excited me, adding to the mystique of both father and son.
Little girl fantasies filled my mind, evolving into the private, personalized fairytales that helped me get through a troubled adolescence. Unlike reality, life was perfect in my imaginary world. Dean was king, Dino, my very own Prince Charming, and I was everything he wanted me to be in every scenario I created, each one ending with happily ever after.
Even after I married and started a family of my own, I found myself thinking about Dino every now and then, and he always made me smile. I had kept up with him over the years through magazine articles, and watched closely when he began an acting career. By then, he had dropped the nickname, Dino, in favor of his given name, Dean Paul. He’d always be Dino to me, though, and I clung to a lingering secret desire—the chance to meet him one day, if only to say thank you for some of my fondest childhood memories. Then I lost him before I found him. Dino was killed when his jet crashed. A piece of my heart, a part of my youth died too.
The shock of losing my fantasy prince hit hard. I mourned him and missed him as I would an old friend, while time, a husband, and two young daughters keeping me busy softened my grief. I would never forget Dino and hoped for a chance to somehow say a proper goodbye to him.
In 1989, my husband, Mark, and I decided to visit Los Angeles during our family’s summer vacation. We wanted to see the sights, and I would finally have the opportunity to pay my respects to Dino, two years after he died. I never could have imagined the events about to unfold.
When I called a travel agent in early May to arrange our trip, I learned that the hotel where we hoped to stay was full during the week we wanted to travel, so we agreed to go the following week. A few days later, while reading a jeweler’s trade magazine, Mark learned of a trade show to be held at our hotel, a week after our rescheduled visit. Once again, I called our travel agent, eager to take advantage of the chance to incorporate a little business into our plans.
“Changing your reservations would normally be no problem,” he told me, “but our airline computers are down at the moment.” It was a Saturday, and the agent was apologetic for the inconvenience as he reminded me that by 9am Monday, our flight schedule would be locked in, as per airline policy. The agent sounded much more hopeful when he added, “If we do get back on line before close of business today, I’ll make sure to take care of it for you.”
“I’d appreciate that,” I said. “And don’t worry about letting me know. I’ll call you Monday to find out.” Hanging up the phone, I wondered which week we’d be traveling, glad it really didn’t matter.
That night, I had a cryptic dream. Dino was there and I was telling him of my plans, and all the other things I wanted him to hear—how much he meant to me, how much I missed him.
“I know,” he assured me, flashing the smile I so lovingly remembered. “But you have to tell him.”
“Tell who? Tell him what?”
“My dad needs to know how you feel. It’ll help.”
“Your father?” I asked, unable to hide my surprise. “What are you talking about? How can I tell Dean Martin anything? Where? When?” Even in a dream, I knew the idea was ridiculous.
But Dino gave me an answer. “August twelfth,” he said. “At eight o’clock.” Then he faded away.
Seemingly so real, the image remained clear in my mind when I woke up the next morning, and I immediately checked the calendar. If my family and I went to Los Angeles for the jewelry show, I’d be home in Fort Lauderdale on August twelfth. But if a computer breakdown forced us into going the week that was now our third choice, I’d be in L.A. on that date. Suddenly recognizing the hands of fate at work, dictating the dates of our vacation, I was now certain I’d meet Dean Martin. Somehow. Somewhere.
When I told my husband about my dream, and my seemingly impossible expectations, he laughed. But I knew I was right. I felt it.
As expected, we were in L.A. on August twelfth. That morning, at quarter to eight, I left my sleeping family in our hotel room and drove off to visit Dino’s grave. Having learned the location of the cemetery through news reports, I stood alone at his graveside for more than twenty minutes, hoping for further instructions while thinking back to the endless, wondrous hours Dino and I had happily shared in my childhood fantasies and dreams.
When I returned to the hotel, I called my family in our room from the lobby. Ready to get started on another day, they promised to come right down. While I waited, I checked the hotel bulletin board. I read about a wedding to be held there that night, and a fund-raising dinner at eight o’clock to benefit St. Jude’s Hospital.
The announcements meant little to me, and as we were driving back to the hotel after another day of sightseeing, my husband had some questions for me.
“What are we doing tonight?” Mark asked. “Where are we supposed to be at eight o’clock?”
His tone was sarcastic and I didn’t have an answer. If my dream had really meant something, as I firmly believed it had, I was certain I’d be led to the right place. That’s when it hit me. The information I’d read earlier finally registered in my brain. The fund-raising dinner at our hotel . . . would it be a star-studded affair? I was absentmindedly thinking out loud and my daughters jumped on my words.
“What celebrities? Where? When? Will we see them?”
When we arrived back at our hotel, my nine-year-old daughter, Lori, flew from the car and raced to the concierge desk, asking questions.
“Several celebrities are expected,” she was told. “They should start arriving in about two hours.”
The four of us rushed to our room, showered and changed, and hurried back downstairs to the entrance with our camera and my daughters’ autograph books in hand. Once the guests began arriving around seven o’clock, my daughters kept busy collecting signatures while their dad snapped pictures at a furious pace. We were surrounded by major celebrities, the dreams of a starstruck tourist in Los Angeles fulfilled.
After a half hour or so, I began trembling and glanced at Mark. “If Dean Martin gets out of a car at eight o’clock,” I said breathlessly, “I think you’ll need to take me home in a straitjacket.” My premonition was suddenly frightening me.
At the same time, Lori had started a conversation with a friendly young girl named Susan, a professional photographer who made a living tracking celebrities around town. My daughter was asking her if she knew which celebrities were expected that night, mentioning several she hoped to see. When Lori brought up Dean Martin’s name, Susan couldn’t hide her surprise.
“You’re interested in Dean Martin?” she asked, her wide eyes staring at the nine-year-old in front of her.
“Sure,” Lori answered. “My mom’s always been a big fan and I love Martin and Lewis movies!”
Standing nearby watching them, I walked closer.
“You want to meet Dean Martin?” Susan asked.
“I’d love to,” I responded quickly, intrigued by her tone that implied she had reliable information. “Do you know how I could?”
That’s when Susan told me about La Famiglia, an Italian restaurant in Beverly Hills that Mr. Martin frequented, adding he usually arrived there about 7:30. When I checked my watch, my pulses raced. This bit of crucial information had come to me at exactly 8pm, on August twelfth.
As soon as that shock subsided, I called the restaurant for reservations. Because the establishment was closed the next day, I chose the night after that, which would be our last night in L.A.
We arrived on schedule and, as Susan had suggested, we asked the parking valet if Mr. Martin was expected that night. He was, and at any moment. I knew he would be, and I could feel Dino with me as the tuxedoed maître d led us to our table. And I trembled when Lori questioned him about the possibility of our meeting Mr. Martin while we were there.
“I’ll ask him,” the maître d replied. “He usually doesn’t mind, but sometimes, he’s just not in the mood.”
When I glanced at the large front window of the restaurant, I spied Mr. Martin getting out of his car. My knees knocked together as he entered the room, and my heart skipped a beat when he sat alone at a booth, steps from our table. My confidence strong, I anxiously awaited the okay to fulfill my mission. It came within minutes.
My husband, daughters, and I apprehensively approached Mr. Martin and introduced ourselves. Happily for all of us, he was most affable, engaging the girls in friendly conversation while my husband and I began our own conversation in glances over our daughters’ heads. His eyes pleaded with me not to mention Dino as he knew I wanted. My eyes told him I had to.
Dino had told me to come, and in a sense, had led me to the opportunity. I only wished he told me what to say as my husband took the girls back to our table, leaving me alone with Dean. I didn’t know how to go further, and I felt shaky as I stared into his sad brown eyes. Finally, I stammered, “I wanted to tell you, Mr. Martin, that I was a big fan of Dino’s.”
He returned my stare as I went on, trying to explain how much Dino had meant to me during the twenty-four years since I first saw him. When I noticed tears in Dean’s eyes, my heart broke for him, and I was overcome by guilt, feeling totally insensitive. I had hoped to comfort him somehow, but it wasn’t working out that way. Quivering, I searched for the proper words to end this meeting. “I just wanted you to know,” I said, “that there are people who still think about Dino, and miss him, and will always remember him. He was special and I just wanted to tell you that. Thank you for your time.” Silently, I added: Thank you, and Dino, for a lot of great memories. You’re both wonderful.
Rejoining my family, I gave them a condensed version of the mostly one-sided conversation. My husband quietly berated my intrusion into the Martin family’s personal tragedy, and I began to wonder if he was right as we finished our meal. Filing passed Dean’s table on our way out, we said goodbye as we moved along. He nodded and waved, and wished us a safe trip home the next day.
At my daughters’ request, we took a walk before we got our car, browsing the store windows lining the street. And then, as we were nearing the restaurant entrance on our way back, the parking valet we had questioned earlier called to us.
“Mr. Martin is getting ready to leave,” he said. “He should be right out if you’d like to see him again.”
We didn’t even have time to answer. Dean was suddenly standing by Lori, and she asked if I could take a picture of them together.
“It would be my pleasure,” he replied with a warm smile as he reached down and wrapped his arm around her.
When my husband noticed what was happening, he took the camera and pushed me and our younger daughter, Lindsay, into the picture.
Overwhelmed by all that happened, I somehow found the courage to ask Mr. Martin if I could give him a kiss after the photo had been snapped. With the same roguish smile I had seen so often on TV and in movies, he bent down and offered his cheek. I didn’t tell him part of that kiss was from Dino, but there was a true warmth in his embrace as his arm encircled me, as if he had sensed it. I wanted to believe he had. I wanted to believe he felt Dino’s presence between us as much as I did.
“Thank you,” I said to him. “We really appreciate your kindness. It was a special pleasure to meet you.”
“No,” he muttered softly. “Thank you.”
I was shaking as I watched Dean get into his car and drive away.
“Maybe you did do the right thing,” my husband admitted as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “The tone of that Thank You certainly sounded like he really appreciated what you said.”
I can only hope Mark was right this time. Still, for the rest of my life, I will fondly remember the evening, as well as both father and son, the king and my childhood prince. The only thing that could have made the night any more memorable or thrilling for me would have been having Dino there with us—healthy and alive . . . not just in our hearts.
Friday, August 13, 2021
Frank Montiforte
Frank Montiforte is a very funny man. After Sunday afternoons, working the Dean Martin Show, and weekdays on Hollywood Squares, Hope and Benny Specials, my fellow NBC Pages and I would drive off to Hollywood "Hot Spots" like PJ's and Whiskey A-Go-Go for an "adult beverage" before trekking home. Those were the Frankie Randall, Eddie Cano, Trini Lopez days. Little did I know Montiforte tended bar at Whiskey's. After the Hollywood bar scene, Frank opened a "swanky" dress shop in Beverly Hills. His clients included Sophia Loren, and the infamous Linda Lovelace to name a few. Years later, when I moved to Palm Springs, I bumped into Frank at weekly "lunch bunch" group of retired agents, screenwriters, and old movie legends. The room is always buzzing with stories about the "Golden Age of Hollywood." You'd love to be a fly on the wall! Now Frank is one of the stars on our Wise Guys Cooking Show here in Palm Springs on NBC. Check it out on WiseGuysCooking.com
Sunday, July 25, 2021
Dean loved comedians!
Friday, July 23, 2021
Mr. Charisma
Thursday, July 22, 2021
Wednesday, July 21, 2021
Friday, July 16, 2021
Let's Have a Vino for Dino!
Dean Martin was 49 when I finagled my way next to his bar stool on the Dean Martin Show. When I first saw Dean, slide down the "fire poll," my life flashed before me, a young kid in Chicago, w/my brother Frank, under the dining room table, watching Dean and Jerry on the Ed Sullivan Show. Fast forward, we moved to Long Beach, Ca. As a teenager I spent my spare hours, emulating Dean's moves and lip-sinking "Money Burns a Hole in My Pocket," " An Evening in Roma, " and all the "Pretty Baby" album songs in front of my bedroom mirror. I had the look and the sound! Father Hanson, who loved Italians, talked me into joining the St. Anthony Hi Glee Club. I could have been a teenage "heart throb" singing "Dark Town Strutters Ball, That's Amore and Hey Compare." Fogettaboutit! My family was proud. Especially my dad who sang during the 30's on Chicago's Italian radio hour. 4 years, two concerts each year before packed houses in our gym, were fun years. After graduating from Long Beach State, my old "Frat Bro" and later N.Y. Metro Media News Anchorman, John Roland got me an interview at NBC. I got my foot in the door. I was now an NBC Page, working on the Dean Martin Show. You're kidding me, I came a long way just to meet Dino Crocetti. It was worth it.
Thursday, July 15, 2021
The trip from Belmont Shore on Ocean Blvd. to the 710 Freeway to the Santa Ana Freeway to the Hollywood Freeway then off on Barnham. The Sunday morning trip took about 45 minutes in my 65' VW Beetle. I would pass Hanna Barbara and Warner Brothers Studios. I drove to NBC Studios and parked in the employees lot. I entered the Artist Entrance, checked my messages, then on to Studio 4, Dean's "digs," took about 2 minutes. I had to pinch myself walking past the "Days of our Lives, Tonight Show" studios, as I walked, on my left was the large warehouse where all the sets were built. I passed two large rehearsal halls to Studio 4. It seemed like a dream. A left turn then on to Studio 4's hallway. Midway was Dean's dressing room on the right, makeup was on the left. I took a deep breath and walked through the swinging doors. I just entered the world of the "Dean Martin Show." On my right was the set up for "Les Brown and his Band of Renown." To my left was Dean's bar stool and the famous stairway up to the "firepoll." Across the large studio was the library set w/Kenny Lane's piano and Dean's famous "Gouch." Later that morning the studio would come alive and rehearsal would begin. 
Friday, July 9, 2021
Monday, July 5, 2021
Saturday, July 3, 2021
Thursday, June 17, 2021
Tuesday, June 15, 2021
Sunday, June 13, 2021
My Favorite Dean Martin look a like.
Wednesday, June 9, 2021
Dean Martin Show. Memories as an NBC Page.
Sunday morning, I arrive in Studio 4, open the two singing doors, I'm in awe of the Dean Martin set. There's action between the stage manager, camera men, boom mike, stage hands moving equipment, yep, I'm part of the Dean Martin Show. First the "blocking" begins. Greg Garrison stands in for Dean. The guys in the control room are following the production script. I could do a pretty good Dean Martin impersonation, since I memorized all of the lyrics on Dean's first album, I kept watching Garrison, hoping he would say "Mike" stand here and act like Dean. Never happened. A few hours later, excitement starts, Dean's in the building off to his dressing room. The morning moved quickly, the audience slowly comes in for rehearsal and taping. I'm glued to my spot next to Dean. Kenny Lane is traveling back and forth from "Les Brown and his band of Renown," "magic" is about to happen. Dean walks in, climbs the stairs, goes up to the "fire pole," the intro. Dean slides down holding a cigerette, bounces over to his stool, the audience is mesmorized, Dean," You know I slept like a baby last night, I woke up this morning with a bottle in my mouth." You know, the president of NBC sent me a present last night, Candy, the girl from the movie." "You know....of course you know, you would'nt be here unless you know, I might be married but I'm not a finatic about it." "I want thank the Mayor of Beverly Hills he changed the street signs on my block, to Crawl and Don't Crawl." The audence was hysterical. "Jeannie and I never took a honey moon, she's going in June and I'm going in July!" Every time he told a joke, he looked me and the makeup guy, to see if we got it. Dino, looking at me? Wow!!!!
Here are some of his famous quotes.
“When Jerry Lewis and I were big, we used to go to parties, and everybody thought I was big-headed and stuck up, and I wasn't. It was because I didn't know how to speak good English, so I used to keep my mouth shut.”
In a tuxedo, I'm a star. In regular clothes, I'm a nobody.”
-- Dean Martin
“Haven't got a girl, but I can wish. So I'll take me down to Main Street and that's where I'll select my imaginary dish.”
“I don't drink anymore... I take the juice of the the whisky bottle and I freeze it and eat it like a popsicle.”
“I know it's the gentlemanly thing to let the wife file. But, then, everybody knows I'm no gentleman.”
“If people want to think I get drunk and stay out all night, let'em. That's how I got here you know I drink because my body craves, needs alcohol. I don't drink, my body's a drunk.”
“Everybody makes mistakes; look at Hitler.”
“The reason I drink is because when I'm sober I think I'm Eddie Fisher.”
“There's a statue of Jimmy Stewart in the Hollywood Wax Museum, and the statue talks better than he does.”
Tuesday, March 30, 2021
Tuesday, March 16, 2021
Saturday, February 20, 2021
Friday, February 19, 2021
Friday, February 12, 2021
Friday, February 5, 2021
Wednesday, January 6, 2021
Sunday, January 3, 2021
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