FAKE ANECDOTES

David Mamet writes his father a birthday card

Mon, 28 Jul 2008 18:59:30 -0400

David Mamet writes his father a birthday card:

Look, what are we doing here? I’m supposed to be wishing you a happy birthday? Why? You’ve turned 90—big fucking deal. See that’s the problem, people turn 90, they think they…

Jack Albertson and the hobo camp

Mon, 30 Jun 2008 18:12:10 -0400

Jack Albertson and the hobo camp:

The following is excerpted from Jack Albertson’s out-of-print 1975 memoir, Not Your Average Grandpa Joe.

Time was you could kill a drifter and nobody’d bother you. From the years 1925…

Emily Gould is a sensitive artist

Thu, 26 Jun 2008 18:54:03 -0400

Emily Gould is a sensitive artist:

Sometimes, I’ve noticed, he wakes up in the morning with balled fists.

Other times he wakes up looking like a still from an Italian neorealism movie. “You look like Lamberto…

Wayne Brady and the macramé fiasco

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 17:29:58 -0400

Wayne Brady and the macramé fiasco:

Well did I tell you about when Maya spilled the tomato juice? Oh my, you’ll love this. You know my friend Maya, she’s the cute little blonde girl who wears those bejeweled capris. Yes, I…

Shia LaBeouf doesn’t think it’s weird

Tue, 10 Jun 2008 17:51:14 -0400

Shia LaBeouf doesn’t think it’s weird:

My father lives in my garage. It’s not weird. It’s not. From my understanding, plenty of parents live next to their kids’ cars. I don’t mind. Though one time I got sort of pissed at…

Tatum O’Neal will toootally run out and get some

Mon, 02 Jun 2008 15:48:10 -0400

Tatum O’Neal will toootally run out and get some:

Hooooooly shit where did you get this it’s good stuff huh actually it’s amazing when I was in Paper Moon Randy Quaid was toooootally there the whole time like he was just hanging out…

The turtlenecked Paul Giamatti

Thu, 29 May 2008 15:36:19 -0400

The turtlenecked Paul Giamatti:

After I saw Balaban do that thing with the spur-winged goose I puked into my turtleneck. I was totally blown away. It reminded me of that Steve Coogan thing. That was on Sideways….

Bob Balaban’s smoldering intensity

Tue, 27 May 2008 17:39:00 -0400

Bob Balaban’s smoldering intensity:

I need to make any situation an extremely sexual one. That’s sort of what I’m known for. On the set of Lady in the Water I said, “Let’s make my role more sexual,” and it was so….

Emily Gould and the raspberry clafoutis

Thu, 22 May 2008 15:28:11 -0400

Emily Gould and the raspberry clafoutis:

A couple of years ago Henry bought me a raspberry clafoutis from this little bakery in Greenpoint. He was over at his friend Fernando’s apartment watching “Project Gayway” and he’d left…

The Stephen Root sex tape

Tue, 20 May 2008 13:27:12 -0400

The Stephen Root sex tape:

All right kids, you cornered me. Happy with yourselves? Man can’t buy a pantry pack of Fluff without the whole damn media goin’ apey. I ’spose you wanna ask me about that Stephen…

George “Chiffon Dickey” Wendt and the chiffon dickey

Fri, 16 May 2008 16:00:31 -0400

George “Chiffon Dickey” Wendt and the chiffon dickey

Bug Hall looks out the window, tells his side of the story

Thu, 15 May 2008 13:36:14 -0400

Bug Hall looks out the window, tells his side of the story

"moved to fakeanecdotes.com"

Thu, 15 May 2008 12:34:00 -0400

“moved to fakeanecdotes.com”

Why so glum, Donald Trump?

Tue, 13 May 2008 16:39:00 -0400

Penelope Spheeris, that bitch—that’s why I’m glum. I was the best fucking part of 1994’s Little Rascals. You ask a hundred people on the street, you couldn’t find person one who remembers that Bug Hall played Alfalfa—but ask them who played Waldo’s father. Trump, goddamnit, that’s what they’ll tell you.

So why is it that Penelope isn’t casting me in Little Rascals 2: All Grow’d Up? How could she forget that on the set of Little Rascals I put out the fire that threatened to consume her dangling blonde ponytail? She didn’t even see the damn fire, she was so busy making eyes at George Wendt, a.k.a Norm from Cheers, a.k.a. Dickie “No Dick” Wendt, a.k.a fine I admit it he’s kind of a dreambarge. Boat? The expression is dreamboat? Thought it was barge. Fuck off, it’s dreambarge now. Point is Penelope’d be dead if it weren’t for me. I walloped out that fucking fire with 1989’s Trump - The Board Game that the grips were playing with. Lost my fucking eyebrows, thank God they’re flesh colored so no one noticed. But whatever, Penelope, 1998’s Senseless sucked—only good part was Brad “Dickie” Dourif.

Send a dozen Trump Steaks to all of Penelope’s enemies. Around the clock.

Leonard Cohen on un banc public

Thu, 08 May 2008 16:33:00 -0400

Ah, mon ami, won’t you come over to this bench of agony? How it hurts your back, but what a beautiful pain it is. Cigarette? Très bien. I can see from your outfit that you’re a plumber. Me, I toil in a similar vineyard—you may not realize it, but we both ensure that bad stuff goes down and what rises is as clear and pure as spring rain.

Mon frère, allow this humble poet to tell you a story. Allow me to take you to Montreal in 1962, when I moved like a Semitic apparition through jazz clubs and cafes, staying long enough to be espied but not so long that my absence would disrupt the fragile meditations of the assembled spirits. One evening, drunk on cheap wine, two women followed me to my tiny dwelling, my cramped and unfortunate cold-water flat. What they sought was shelter, in the Old Testament meaning of the word. I said to these twin angels, these impossible creatures of the night, “Girls, if you do not mind the faucet’s mythological drip into the destroying porcelain sink, my home is yours.”

Ah, the love we made that night! They pursued, and I was coy—I was coy, and they pursued. The love burned long, but of course, in the end, all that is left is ash. Comme l’oiseau sur la branche, comme l’ivrogne dans le choeur de la nuit, j’ai cherche ma liberte. How rusty my French sounds—I can get by, but it’s not a tongue I could ever move around in in a way that would satisfy the appetites of the mind or the heart. Oh, the heart.

Goodness, how low hangs the sun. Mon ami, I bid your farewell. I don’t know when I’ll be back.

What we talk about when we talk about khakis

Wed, 07 May 2008 17:38:00 -0400

Jared Fogle here, folks. You probably know me as the guy famous for holding up pants. It’s a hard racket, actually—forearms get tired. But there’s one thing that keeps me holding up pants day in day out: wearing my other pants. My khakis, man! Fucking love ‘em! Shit, I get so sexy in my khakis. I throw on my pager (pictured) and the women of GIA (greater Indianapolis area) get soaked. This one time, I went to this real casual Bar Mitzvah, right, and it said “black tie optional.” I was like, “black tie optional? More like khakis MANDATORY!” God, I loved it. I got so sexy in my khakis. Threw on a purple polo, a brown belt, and my beloved khaks. Showed up a little late to the service but the minute I walked in Cantor Weintraub stopped the service—stopped right smack in the middle of Ein Keloheinu—and he goes, “Yahweh in heaven! That’s what we talk about when we talk about khakis.”

And that’s why I do it. That’s why I hold up pants all day long.

The Steve Coogan

Tue, 06 May 2008 21:26:00 -0400

I make fantastic fucking moonshine.

John Waters responds to Brad Dourif

Tue, 06 May 2008 21:17:00 -0400

That story is nothing but fanciful bullshit. Except for the part about the Steve Coogan moonshine.

Brad Dourif fields a question

Tue, 06 May 2008 16:39:00 -0400

Look, folks: I’m not happy about that baby I ate. But I had to. I was too damn hungry and he was too damn honey-slicked. Now I can’t apologize for something I can’t uneat, but let me just—if I may—tell a quick story in my defense. This one time, when we were working on Seed of Chucky, John Waters took a dump in the middle of the room. It was just wild. He said he did it to get us refocused, because Jennifer Tilly was hopped up on the Steve Coogan moonshine and started yelling at Redman because she thought he was Method Man and I guess Method Man once tried to smoke Corky, her cat, or something? So it was just chaos, and the director Don Mancini just could not keep it together. And boom, Waters, the fucking genius, takes a dump to refocus us. Let me tell you, it worked. It was just wild.