one day, hollywood will cast a reasonable, down-to-earth person to play the joker. just a normal guy with a sensible separation between his identities on and off the screen
“yeah, it’s a fun role. I really get to chew the scenery, which is not the kind of part that I normally do, so I enjoy the change of pace”, he opines, probably while holding a cute dog
remember the white dress i wore all through that film? george came up to me the first day of filming, took one look at the dress and said: “you can’t wear a bra under that dress.”
“ok, i’ll bite,” i said. “why?” and he said: “because… there’s no underwear in space.”
he said it with such conviction. like he had been to space and looked around and he didn’t see any bras or panties anywhere.
he explained. “you go into space and you become weightless. then your body expands but your bra doesn’t, so you get strangled by your own underwear.”
i think that this would make for a fantastic obituary. i tell my younger friends that no matter how i go, i want it reported that i drowned in moonlight, strangled by my own bra.
rest in peace, carrie fisher (october 21st, 1956 - december 27th, 2016)
