A Quote by Elayne Boosler
I have always put my own money into Tails of Joy. For years, every time a dog walked by, my husband would say, 'There goes our beach house.'
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There's a design book I got years ago that had a statue of a dog with a bunch of hats on it, and I just obsessively fell in love with it. For years I searched for that dog. One day I walked into an antique shop in La Jolla and I found a white dog that I could put hats on!
Four years in the White House and two presidential campaigns is an awful long time. In politics, every year in the White House is like dog years, six years off your life.
Any time you demonstrate against segregation and a man has the audacity to put a police dog on you, kill that dog, kill him, I'm telling you, kill that dog. I say it if they put me in jail tomorrow, kill that dog. Then you'll put a stop to it.
Every time I told my cocker spaniel, Taffy, my very first dog, that we were going for a walk, she would launch into a celebratory dance that ended with her racing around the room, always clockwise, and faster and faster, as if her joy could not be possibly contained. Even as a young boy I knew that hardly any creature could express joy so vividly as a dog.
Americans are so stiff when it comes to nudity. For me, I've always walked around the house naked. My husband, in real life, is like, 'Babe, could you just put some clothes on! Keep the mystery alive!'
I was 25 when my first husband walked out of the house and left me with a 10-month-old. And a house payment and a car payment. But suffice it to say I have a lot of love in my life.
We bought a dog, and we financed it - a $1,400 dog. We had no money, so me and my wife had to put our names together with our credit just to finance a dog.
I say 20 words in English. I say money, money, money, and I say hot dog! I say yes, no and I say money, money, money and I say turkey sandwich and I say grape juice.
For me, writing a novel goes on for years, and the solitude goes on, too. It tends to swallow me at times. I know it's a problem when my husband sends the dog in to retrieve me.
Dogs are quick to show their affection. They never pout, they never bear a grudge. They never run away from home when mistreated. They never complain about their food. They never gripe about the way the house is kept. They are chivalrous and courageous, ready to protect their mistress at the risk of their lives. They love children, and no matter how noisy and boisterous they are, the dog loves every minute of it. In fact, a dog is still competition for a husband. Perhaps if we husbands imitated a few of our dog's virtues, life with our family might be more amiable.
I did get tired of hearing that criticism years ago. That is not a compliment. Being labeled a "beach read" is a put-down. So, I did deliberately set out to write a book, Camino Island, that would be very entertaining and compulsively readable and we published it on June 6 in time for summer vacation, hoping that people would buy it and take it to the beach.
Every time the tour guide told a story, he would build it up to the point where he'd say, "And there was Bloody Joe, and his young ghost son walked into the room." He would build it up, and then it was just "the ghost walked into the room." And he would say, "Let's move on," and that would be it. It's like, wait, what happened to the bloody ghost? That's it? We knew he was making some of it up.
The doctor must have put my pacemaker in wrong. Every time my husband kisses me, the garage door goes up.
The dog approached again, cautiously. I found the bologna sandwich, ripped off a chunk, wiped the cheap watery mustard off, then placed it on the sidewalk. The dog walked up to the bit of sandwich, put his nose to it, sniffed, then turned and walked off. This time he didn't look back. He accelerated down the street. No wonder I had been depressed all my life. I wasn't getting proper nourishment.
As far as best comedy show, Richard Prior live. The Long Beach show. That's the apex, that's the pinnacle. That's what everybody's trying to reach for. When he walked on that stage he had the red shirt on in Long Beach and when he walked on that stage to the time he left, he was on fire.
I had Hallowe'en parties every year, as it was my birthday five days before. My parents would actually put prosthetic noses on, and my dad would wear a top-hat and tails, put on a fake curly moustache, and hold a pipe.
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