I'm scraped out. I'm... that car we sent to Mars, flipped upside down so the sun can't reach my solar panels. I've always been able to flip myself back over eventually but...I ran out of times. This is how I am now. And it's not okay with you. Nor should it be.
Jimmy
Okay. Well...I suppose it's good that this happened now, instead of like... ten years down the line.
They always want money, or you have jury duty, or your grandma sent you a check for your birthday, and then you feel guilty that you never call her, and then you can't get out of bed for a month. Anyway... mail. Does that count for your stupid-ass...? Ugh, sorry.
JJustina
It's all right, I'm a professional. You can say anything you want in here.
Well, your asinine notes started a thought process of actual, usable fixes. I had to cut the scene in the cockpit of the plane where Joachim Kirschner masturbates during his bombing run on London, but the section is still highly erotic.
DDorothy
Did you take out the thing with Roger spanking his nephew?
Jimmy
What, you let Dorothy read it?!
DDorothy
I thought the sample chapters were great...
Jimmy
Thank you. It's so nice to hear from fans.
DDorothy
...just potentially very alienating to women.
Jimmy
This is literature, okay? It shall sing its own song, uncaring if sensibilities are too delicate. Anyway, it feels like we keep forgetting the proposal's in already. It's done.
DDorothy
Okay. Just so many descriptions of semen on stockings.
Jimmy
Stockings are a sign both of the deprivation of the Second World War and how much the repressed Kitty's slutty little legs wanted semen on them! What is alienating about that?
Jimmy God, no, woman! There's too much to do, now that the starting gun on the Grand Prix has sounded, the instant that I take my foot off the proverbial gas to celebrate, shall materialize five other writers in my side mirror just ready to pass me on the Autobahn that is the publishing industry... to clumsily mix European race car metaphors. As a veteran writer girlfriend now, you know that the work is never-ending.
[seeing Jimmy burying his face in his hand] Let all the sadness out. [Jimmy turns around with a big smile on his face] Whoa! I thought you were crying!
Jimmy
No. It's amazing. I was smelling the jacket that Dad left and it smelled exactly like him. Just cigarettes, ale, beans, occupational failure. And in a rush, that feeling that we'd been searching for all day just came flying out. And, Gretchen, it wasn't sadness. It was happiness. I'm free. I am finally free! And I'm finally unstuck creatively. I found, all right, the perfect metaphor for the heft of Kitty's adolescent bottom. I'll tell you later. It's...it's too sexy.
Do you want to go binge-watch that six-part series on the Susan Smith case?
Jimmy
Yeah. Just a sec. Now that my parental nightmare is finally over, I'm gonna get rid of everything that smacks of Ronny Overly. May he rest in relative peace for someone of his arterial calcification.
It is not just a bar. It is a secret bar with a hidden entrance. A magical land full of beautiful people, and strong beverages, and retro decor, called a speakeasy.
And I think we both deserve to have a little fun after all that. Also, there's a bar in L.A. I can't get into. That is unacceptable.
Jimmy
Well, accept it, 'cause I'm not going on a scavenger hunt to find a speakeasy. Easily the worst development in bar culture since Internet jukeboxes and big ice cubes.
Your sisters want me to follow up with you. Apparently, you blocked their numbers, and they want me to tell you: A, you're to have the funeral; B, to make sure to scatter his ashes; and C, don't fall into any shit.
Jimmy
Ah! Well, tell them: A, we're already having a service tomorrow; B, I will scatter his ashes, into the toilet; and, C, you're grossly obese, brush your teeth, and you're a whore, in descending chronological birth order.
[reading eulogy] "Ronny Overly was not only my coworker. He was my hero. He cherished his family, especially his son, Jimmy. I remember when I came out to visit Jimmy. Oh, bloody hell. This was supposed to be in the third person. Oh, well. Ha, ha. It's me, Ronny. I wrote this in pen, so I might as well keep going. I just realized Freddie has to read whatever I say. My name is Freddie, and I'm a..." I'm not reading that. Skipping forward. "Anyway, I did my best to love him, but he rejected me. I sent him presents, I visited, I Facebook-requested him. Anyway, I forgive him. Please scatter my ashes at the home of actor Tony Shalhoub, whose movie Big Night you and I attended together. What's that, Fi? Your sister just told me he's a Paki. Shit. Anyway, after the movie, you turned to me and said: 'That's what I want to do, Daddy. I want to tell stories.' And I said: 'You can do anything you want, son.' And so, you became a writer. I did that. Anyway, I hope you ditch that depressed girl. And I hope Fi is wrong about Tony Shalhoub. Looking at his last name now, it does look suspicious. Shal-houb. Cheers."
Jimmy
Excuse me! Excuse me. We are not done. First of all, he is a liar! I begged him to take me to Big Night so that we could bond, but instead, he went to D3: The Mighty Ducks, and I watched Big Night alone. Then his movie was shorter, he forgot that I was with him, so he left without me. For him to claim that he was rejected after 18 years of constant rejection on his part is crazy!
These pot activists leech off of people with legitimate problems in order to further their agenda, which is just getting high! Why did you make me do this?!
Hey! If I quit every time my mother pushed me to do something hard, I wouldn't have... I-I... Okay, well, I guess I did quit eventually to start doing drugs and having unprotected sex with college boys. But the point...
[as Edgar leaves] I was only trying to fill your...
Jimmy
[entering] Look what I made! I went to Kinko's. Talked to some undergrads making a 'zine. It's a lovely place. Anyway, turns out I've been living my entire life in opposition to my father. And now that he's dead, I have no idea who I really am. Am I even a writer? Who knows? Maybe I'm meant to be a master carpenter/tree-house architect/singer-songwriter. Anyways, although my zoo animals are likely dead or escaped, I'd like to thank you for taking that router and forcing me to explore the world. Okay. I'm gonna go into the backyard and test some branches for load-bearing capacity.
So I'm just supposed to wait around until you think I'm worthy of being your girlfriend? That's bullshit, dude. Just tell me one of the things on your list.
Last night, you said that I would never be successful. Well, I stayed up all night and wrote 35 amazing pages just to spite you. So, ha! Consider yourself thoroughly spited. Ha!
No, Jimmy! It's your turn to take back the mega-harsh thing you said to me. And then, voila, everything goes back to Normal Town, et cetera, et cetera... a little makeup boneage. Maybe some titty massages for Jimmy.
You have dropped eight iPhones in the last year, one into a vat of ranch at Souplantation. Child-rearing requires skill. It's not the same as binge-watching a season of Exemplify.
You're the Worst · 56 quotes
Jimmy
