Lama, Ding Dong
“Dude. You have: no. fucking. IDEA how spiritual I am.”
How spiritual are you?
“Dalai Lama’s been at my house.”
I will give you this one: Dalai Lama at your house is the height of White Guy Spirituality.
“Used my shitter. Little bastard top-decked me.”
The Dalai Lama did not top-deck you.
“Ah, you’re right: I’m fuckin’ with ya.”
How much you gotta donate to Free Tibet Inc. before the Dali Lama comes over.
“Dude. You have: no. fucking. IDEA how much those fuckers cost.”
I can imagine.
“Plus you know: I’m not gonna just make the first donation they suggest, right? Everything’s negotiable, I figure.”
“You ever negotiate with a Buddhist monk?”
“Fuckers believe in reincarnation: they’ll just wait ’til you crack.”
“Worse than the Mafia. You sit down with a mob guy, you don’t have to listen to the fucking prayer wheels: you’ll agree to their demands just to get out of the room.”
Okay: we haven’t really talked about what you’re going to do for the show.
“Black and white. Color.”
That’s the name of the company that makes movie cameras: you haven’t given this a second’s thought, have you?
“I’m gonna be more of a big-picture guy on this project.”
What does that mean?
“I will be letting everyone else do everything and taking the credit and cashing the check.”
Again: I cannot fault your strategy.
“Got this shit on lockdown.”
Right, sure. So, who’s going to be doing the actual directing?
“Guy. Guy the Dead sent over. Nice kid. Good guy.”
That’s not even close to a human name. Justin Kreutzmann will be doing the work.
“Sure, okay. Great guy. Good kid. Like me: started with no connections and made his way.”
He may have had a contact in the organization.
“Harry Mendoza had a son?”
We’re done. Nice watch.
“Gift from John Mayer.”