I was NOT that guy on the hang glider.
How about a Cessna 132 with a bucket of...
Since I am an
“alcoholic,” “schizophrenic,” “schizoaffective,” or “bipolar” depending on
which Russian doctor you consult, I thought I’d give you the three endings
which a big nasty studio might dictate, not me. The world has gone even nuttier
since a now deceased actor paid for a one week motel stay. I did no writing,
clowned around, and decided on ending #2 below. Number one was the first choice,
and now I fear Universal or MGM would want #3. My family told me of the magic
term “Creative Control” as a contract item when I was about seven years old.
That’s a shame I was diverted into trying to teach high school, and later
social work, or was it?
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