Okay, not the first time, admittedly. But generally it led to sex. Q called last night, and he went on for an hour, as I nursed my still drunken status. My answering machine picked up most of it. Let me transcribe some of the choice bits:
"... Back in 83, I was getting more pussy than a dumped bag of fish guts... Warren Beaty used to come by to marvel at how many girls would be hanging out at my place. And yeah, I put a lot of the money away, but by the time 87 rolled around I was showing up at Lucas's doorstop saying "I hear you're making Willow." Look, Damon, here's the thing, I love cocaine. I love it. And I've kicked it, but I have a problem, and some times I fly down to eat a whole bunch of crops. I'll freebase it by burning the Cocoa leaves. I get so high, I end up at Antartica freezing my nuts off, or in Australia, hanging with Russell Crowe. I told you I know Russ right, next time he's in town, I'm totally going to introduce you two. You're so fucking talented Damon, I... I turned down some work in Return of the Jedi. Lucas was going to write a sequel to Dragonslayer specifically for me. I fucked it up, man. I was cut out of Reign of Fire, that's how bad it got. I mean, I can still sell houses, but, I mean, God damnit (untilligeble for the next two minutes) and the fucking god damnit cock snorting horse fuckers over at, where was I... God damnit, my cigar fell in my lap. I burned a hole in my fucking robe. This shit is silk. God damnit. Damon, I'm going to have to call you back, is that okay? Okay, I'll talk to you later."