As he gets closer and closer to the benchmark of what one might call middle age, Lenny Bruce is getting soft. Not that he would admit it, most of the time.
Age has been kind to him, and isn’t that a fucking trip? At forty-seven, he’s probably healthier and in better shape than he was at twenty-seven. He eats well, he’s been clean for over a decade, and maybe it’s the good food, the happy home life, the lack of being constantly hounded by the morality police, or some combination of all three, but he’s coming up on fifty with nary a gray hair in sight - just a neat, tidy mustache and a pair of orange-rimmed glasses.
He’s still him. Still pushes the boundaries, still says things that make people gasp and clutch their pearls (mostly figurative pearls, these days, Midge tells him). Still maintains that bad-boy reputation, prickly and obscene and edgy. But he’s also allowed those other parts of his personality to come out. The soft side, the compassionate side, the generous side.
The side that brings lunch to surprise his wife when she has to do some commercial shoot.
When he walks onto the set, directed there by a very helpful assistant, though, all the nice parts of his personality take a backseat as he covers his mouth to keep from barking out a laugh.
His lovely, fashionable, put-together wife is standing in the middle of the set, getting her makeup touched up by a woman in a black tunic. Lenny may not be up on the latest fashions - he’s been wearing a variation on the same suit since the 1950s - but even he knows that this blocky, hole-y, front-laced monstrosity is not something anyone with Midge’s taste (or any taste) would willingly wear.
He watches, silent, as they do another take, before the director calls lunch. That’s when Midge spots him. Her cheeks flush even pinker beneath the camera-ready makeup, but she otherwise is admirably casual as she walks up to greet him with a kiss.
“What?” she asks defensively as he tries and fails to hide his growing mirth.
“Sweetheart, what the fuck are you wearing?”
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still one of the hardest times I've ever laughed at any podcast it's just so dumb
Transcript below for the lolz:
Alex: Yes, this is Lingo Bingo! Round one, it's a spot the song – I've replaced every other word with either slippery or snake. Shout your name if you think you've got it.
Mark: Or play our instruments? Isn't that better?
Alex: Oh! Play your instruments, yes.
Alex: Slippery was snake like slippery beauty snake from slippery movie snake. Snake said slippery mind –
[band laughing]
Alex: Slippery what snake you snake. I snake the snake. Snake will slippery on snake floor, snake the slippery –
[band still laughing]
Alex: Snake said, snake am slippery one. Snake will slippery on slippery floor snake the slippery. Snake told snake her snake was slippery jean –
[saxophone sound]
Alex: Yes, Mark?
Mark: It's Billie Jean.
Alex: It is Billie Jean!
Joe: Bloody hell, well done.
Alex: Snake told snake her snake was slippery jean, slippery she slippery a snake. Slippery every snake turn slippery eyes etcetera.
Ed: Well done, Mark, that was good.
Alex: I'm amazed you got that.
Joe: I thought it must be a song about a snake.
Mark: Another great game. This is destined for TV.
Alex: Well, it's round two, in which I've changed all the T's and W's and V's and R's to M's!
[band wheezing]
Alex: Here we go! Smeme malks mamily –
[band immediately dying]
Alex: Dom mhe smeem. Mim mi bmim!
[band struggling to breathe]
Alex: Pulled may dom lom. Ainm no sound bum me sound of his feem. Machine guns, meady mo go! Ame you meady? Hey! Ame you meady fom mhis?
[band actually dead]
Alex: Ame you hanging on mhe edge of youm seam? Oum of mhe doommay mhe bullems mip. Mo mhe sound of mhe beam. Chorus now! Anomhem one –
Joe: Joe!
Alex: Bimes mhe dusm – yes, Joe?
Joe: [laughing] I haven't got it.
Alex: Anomhem one bimes mhe dusm, and anomhem –
Ed: [keyboard sound] Ed!
Alex: Yes, Ed?
Ed: Another One Bites The Dust.
Alex: It is Another One Bites The Dust!
[clapping]
Ben: Oh, well done!
Mark: [still dying]
Alex: Hom d'you mhink I'm gonna gem along. Mimhoum you mhen youme gone.
Ed: I thought you were just reading the Jabberwocky poem.
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"Have you ever had a day that starts with one bad decision? And then... it's just a cascade of bad decisions, until you're like, 'Well, might as well burn down the whole town tonight?'"
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