I can't help but think how extremely angry q!Cellbit was when he saw the code disguised as Bobby, almost as angry as when he saw it impersonate Richas in that dungeon the other day.
After all, they're both his sons, aren't they?
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911 plane crash episode (worst day ever) is STILL an episode of all time for me
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The night Bob Dylan abandoned me at a petrol station
About 20 years ago, I was in Mexico making a documentary. Exhausted, I travelled home via Los Angeles to stay a few days with a musician friend of mine. When I arrived my friend said, “You’ve come at the right time, Bob Dylan is coming round for dinner tonight.” I was in a lather of excitement as Dylan is one of my heroes.
So in due course Bob Dylan arrives and when he sees there is a stranger, an infidel who he isn’t expecting, a look of panic sweeps over him and he pulls the toggles on this hoodie he is wearing over his bushy hair, so that all that is left is this small hole.
He then proceeds to eat the Mexican food we were having through this little hole, so that by the end of the meal the salsa and guacamole is smeared round the hood. I could hear him speaking in that inimitable Bob Dylan voice, but could not see him. At one point he started playing a little children’s keyboard and sang an old gospel song. I can’t think of a more searingly surreal moment in my life!
Eventually, after a few hours, Bob leaves, still with the hood round his face. As we sat there digesting the experience there was a knock on the door. I answered and there is Dylan standing there now with his hood off. He says, “I’ve got no gas in my truck. Could someone come with me to a gas station?” Given the attention of fans, he wouldn’t fill his own tank.
Hoping to finally speak to him, I say: “Well, I’ll go.” So I get in this battered old Dodge truck with Bob Dylan driving down Ventura Boulevard. This was in Encino which is out in the Los Angeles suburbs. We drive in silence past gas station after gas station and I am saying: “Bob, that’s a gas station… there’s another gas station…” But he’s not stopping. “No,” he says. “I know this one on Laurel and Ventura…”
We eventually pull into this gas station, and now it’s about one in the morning. He gives me his credit card (I didn’t check if it said Robert Zimmerman), I swipe it at the pump, fill up the gas, and, as I am about to get back in the truck, he says: “No man, I gotta go, I got to go.” He pulls the door shut on me and then drives off down the road, leaving me on my own on the forecourt.
I hadn’t a cent in my pocket. Nothing. I had to ring my host call collect – this was before mobiles – and get him to pick me up. I even had to ask the gas station cashier where I was, because I’d never been to LA before.
I’ve worked with Bob since, but I’ve never mentioned that strange night to him.
Seamus McGarvey
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Alright I’m going to bed. If Bobby is dead I’m going to be so sad.
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