A Quote by Louis C. K.
I was in a hotel room in Dallas, and I was jerking off so much and so sadly and pathetically, that the phone rang, and I thought it's them, they're complaining. ... "Sir, could you please stop?"
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I've stayed in so many hotel rooms that I'm shocked if, when I stay in a hotel room, the hotel phone isn't on the desk. Then I'm like, "This isn't a real hotel room." If there's not outlets next to the desk, or if they have an iPhone adapter for an iPhone 4, that's when I'm sitting there annoyed. I understand that it's ridiculous, but that's just me spending way too much time in hotels.
It rang and it rand and it rang. I looked at the screen one last time, then at Stuart, and then I reached my arm back and threw the phone as hard as I could (sadly, not that far), and it vanished into the snow. The eight-year-olds, who were truly fascinated with our every move at this point, chased after it. 'Lost it,' I said. 'Whoops.
When guys talk about going to the league in college, they're thinking about flash and bling. But my first taste of the NFL was a relatively small non-guaranteed contract, a crappy room at an extended stay hotel and a sense of panic every time my phone rang because it might be the cut guy.
I was talking to my father via phone from my hotel room when he said "I will call you right back" before he hung up. 10 minutes pass and the phone rings again. I thought it was him but it was a journalist telling me my father had died.
As my good friend Al Capp told me a few years ago, the best thing to do with a confirmed [hotel] reservation slip when you have no room is to spread it out on the sidewalk in front of the hotel and go to sleep on it. You'll either embarrass the hotel into giving you a room or you'll be hauled off to the local jug, where at least you'll have a roof over your head.
It was scary. But it was so liberating. I thought, This is not predetermined - I get to choose. There are some days where I have to choose five times in a day. I had to make a choice when you called and the phone rang, whether I'm going to show up and be me, or whether I'm going to say what I think I'm supposed to say and get off the phone.
I was playing in the juniors at Wimbledon I forgot to turn my mobile phone off. It was lying there in my bag and it rang in the middle of a match, and it was one of my friends from school saying, 'Murray, you're on the telly!' I learnt from that. I now put my phone on silent.
Take off your bedroom slippers, put on your marching shoes. Shake it off. Stop complaining, stop grumbling, stop crying. We are going to press on. We’ve got work to do.
She left me the way people leave a hotel room. A hotel room is a place to be when you are doing something else. Of itself it is of no consequence to one's major scheme. A hotel room is convenient. But its convenience is limited to the time you need it while you are in that particular town on that particular business; you hope it is comfortable, but prefer, rather, that it be anoymous. It is not, after all, where you live.
I'm trying to photosynthesize like a plant. I'm off eating. Although I am making a lot of banana daiquiries in my room in the blender I've got, with lots of powdered vitamins in them. This tour I'm going to get some Afghani hangings and put them in my room, so that my hotel rooms look like mosques.
I'm in hotel rooms most of the time, and it can be hard to find a hotel with a nice gym. It was important for me to have a workout I could do in my room.
As I was whizzing around the United States on yet another demented book tour, getting up at four in the morning to catch planes, doing two cities a day, eating the Pringle food object out of the mini-bar at night as I crawled around on the hotel room floor, too tired even to phone room service, I thought, 'There must be a better way of doing this'.
I'm living on coffee, cigarettes and hospitality food. My bags and things are all over this hotel room in Dallas, but the scene could easily be in London, Paris, New York of LA. My eyes are burning, my knees hurt and I hate to say it, but a certain and vital part of my nether region is beginning to smell like peanut butter. Welcome to life on tour.
(He glared at them while it rang and rang and rang. Grimacing at the delay, Nick glanced toward Kody.) “Do necromancers not have voice mail?” – Nick
I'm so fast that last night I turned off the light switch in my hotel room and was in bed before the room was dark.
Never in my wildest dreams I thought I would work with Dharmendra sir. I remember the first selfie I took with him, I posted on our family WhatsApp group. My father couldn't stop beaming with joy. I could feel it. Everytime I see them proud, it makes everything so worth it.
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