So back in the 1980s me and The Hoag go down to New York City for some secret mission and while down there we decide to go see Rodney Dangerfield perform at a little place around 61st street called Dangerfield's. Rodney owned this little restaurant/club thingy and we thought it would be cool.
It was this small club that maybe sat 100 people, tiny little tables to eat on, and steaks to die for.
But there was one hitch....for some reason Rodney didn't feel like performing on this particular night and up came Larry Storch (Cpl. Agarn on the old F-Troop show)....now I don't know about you, but seeing Larry Storch instead of Rodney just wasn't gonna cut it. But we had no choice. Luckily the steaks were good. Steaks are always good when things are going bad.
And then it happened. Half way through Agarns set, guess who sat next to us? Yup. Rodney.
And he's got a gorgeous babe at his side. Bottle of hooch on the table. Chain smoking cigarettes. Eating beef. Makin' comments left and right. You know...being Rodney.
At this point we're pretty much not listening to Larry Storch anymore. And then Rodney does something I thought odd. He lights up a joint. Marijuana. Ol' Mary Jane. Reefer. Wacky Weed. And then hands it to Hoag. And Hoag starts sharing a joint with Rodney (At that point in time Hoag doesn't smoke pot)....and then hands it to me. Well I don't smoke pot either, but certainly don't want to disrespect Rodney Dangerfield so I take a pretend 'hit' or two and pass it back to Rodney. The whole while Rodney is in character. Shifting his weight around. Eyes bugging out. Looking at chicks.
And then Hoag asks him if he has any cocaine...
And that my friends is my non-funny Rodney Dangerfield story.
Moral of the story:
Don't ever pay to see Larry Storch unless Rodney Dangerfield smokes dope with you.
Monday, August 21, 2006
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11 comments:
ANYTHING involving Rodney Dangerfield is funny.
Too bad you didn't have puppy meds to offer him.
What was the secret mission? You can tell us, we promise to keep it hush-hush.
Anyone else notice how many of NoOprah's posts revolve around food? I'm surprised he ain't 400 lbs.
Coupla things:
1) I'm guessing the secret mission involved a switch-blade comb
2) Why would you pretend to take a hit when you could be hanging out with celebrities like a rock star...rock stars don't pretend to take hits! Either bogart the whole j-bar, or say you gotta pass because you just got outta rehab! Big missed op, in my eys, NoOprah.
3) So, did he offer you any coke? Tougher to pretend to do that stuff, eh? (never had it, never will)
No coke, Radio.
Is steak an acceptable lunch food motheragawd?
Only if served with sacramental wine.
Someone break Anunomess out of the convent, STAT!
The hot chicks sure do dig the bug eyes.
Pass the pot?
All because you had to look at craigslist, motheragawd. ::sigh::
Hang your head, please.
That would be a SACRED prickle Motheragawd.
You're right cake-this place is infested with Heathens.
NoOprah must've left the door open again...I keep telling him, if he wants to keep the Heathens out, he has to close and latch the door properly.
If only he weren't so retarded...
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