OK.
Since yesterday was Halloween, I'll
read you a Halloween poem about a friend of ours who
kind of tricked us into dressing up for Halloween,
and I've only seen him once in the last--
must be 30, 40 years.
"Davy."
"One day, Davy whispered the way he had never before,
something he wanted to show me in his Aunt's bedroom
where he took out her big, black brassiere.
Hollywood came-- I'm sorry, Halloween came."
[LAUGHTER]
OK, Hollywood-- Halloween came.
[LAUGHTER]
What the hell, I'm obsessed with Hollywood.
[LAUGHTER]
Is there an agent out there?
How about feelings of a contract there?
OK, then behave yourselves.
[LAUGHTER]
Now listen to this.
This is serious stuff.
This is poetry.
Callense la boca.
[LAUGHTER]
"Davy."
I'm going to read it again until I get it right.
[LAUGHTER]
And after that I'm going to read it another time.
"One day, Davy whispered the way he had never before,
something he wanted to show me in his Aunt's bedroom
where he took out her big, black brassiere.
Halloween came and the neighborhood boys
tripped and stumbled down streets, alleys,
and our mother's old dresses, wearing
lipstick, rouge, cursing.
His idea."
Yeah, not too-- people were not happy about that.