Humor

The Corona Chronology: Day 32

After the eye-opening exposé that had aired at Bonnywood Manor the previous night, concerning corncobs and lonely Saturday nights, it was difficult for actress Joan Crawford and director David Lean to keep a straight face whilst handing out the statuette for Best Supporting Actor. But they were professionals, and they kept it together until the live broadcast cut to commercial.

[Minutes later, backstage.]

Joan: “I nearly wet myself!”

David: “And there I was, holding a metallic dildo.”

Joan: “And that one microphone that looked like a bottle of lube? I’m sure Bette Davis put that there.”

David: “Are you serious?”

Joan: “Of course I am. That wretch has been dried out since 1935. She has crates of the stuff.”

David, laughing on the inside, because he’s British: “Oh my. No wonder she has such bumpy nights.”

Joan: “And that’s why you have to fasten your seatbelts with her. Otherwise you’ll fall in and never be seen again.”

David: “I love the smell of movie trivia in the morning.”

Joan: “That’s assuming you can get the trivia to spend the night with you.”

David: “Having a few lonely Saturday nights yourself, are you?”

Joan: “That’s a bit direct. But yes. The box office hasn’t been selling as many tickets lately.”

David: “Trust me, dear, I understand your pain. In fact, I was wondering…”

Joan: “If I’m available for your next movie?”

David: “Well, not quite that. Those vats of lubricant that Bette has piled up. Do you happen to know the distributor?”

Joan: “Oh? Oh! Honey, I didn’t know you lubricated that way.”

David: “It’s not something I talk about lightly. But I feel a special bond with you. And it’s not just our mutual eyebrows and the way you look manly from certain angles. If you’ll excuse my bluntness.”

Joan: “No worries. I get that all the time. Some people in this business actually think I’m a drag queen. Can you imagine?”

David: “I don’t think imagination has anything to do with it. But still, the lubricant liaison?”

Joan: “Right. Well, since we’re sharing, I have several crates myself. 1935 was a dry year for lots of people.”

David: “You mean the Great Depression?”

Joan: “No, I mean the Great Desiccation. Once the dewiness of youth turns its back on you, you learn to stockpile. And you start collecting personal items for lonely Saturday nights.”

David: “Fascinating. So you also… take advantage of intriguing inventory options in the Prop Department?”

Joan: “Face it, girl. Our first rodeo was a long time ago. We have to plan ahead for that transition from rodeo queen to rodeo clown. That’s why I snagged one of the extra statuettes they keep on hand in case somebody counted wrong. Mildred isn’t the only one getting pierced tonight.”

David: “You are amazing.”

Joan: “I know. So, does this mean I get to be in your next movie? I’ll bring the lubricant.”

David: “I’ll have to get back to you on that. After I’ve sampled the contents of your dusty crates.”

Joan: “That’s what my first four husbands said.”

 

A Couple of Notes: One, excuse the ribald aspect of this post if you are faint of heart. My muse spoke, I listened. Two, I have no idea what David Lean did or did not do once the sun set. But I do know he spent over a year filming “Lawrence of Arabia” on location, in multiple over-heated locales involving a cast of mostly men, including Peter O’Toole and his blue, blue eyes. I’ll let you do the math from there…

 

26 replies »

  1. Apparently Lean liked the ladies, very much liked the ladies, to the tune of a handful of wives. But in those long lingering Lawrence spins and whirls in diaphanous robes there seems a touch of ‘Priscilla, Queen of the Desert’ going on. Or off?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You’ve explained something that puzzled me about “Joan” (John to ‘her’ friends) for a long while. I thought I spied a bit of Adam’s Apple bob, bob, bobbin’ its way around her throat. Also, what’s with that humongous ‘diamond’ heart on her chest? That’s gotta be the biggest Zircon I’ve ever seen!! Is ‘she’ sure she didn’t already get pierced more than Mildred ever dreamt of? That thing looks sharp!

    Liked by 1 person

    • I refuse to rule out the possibility that Joan was a John. Not that women can’t be strong, far from it, but Joan John dripped unregulated testosterone from every pore. And that bauble on her neck? Yeah, that’s a testicle tribute, for certain…

      Like

  3. Always let the muse speak. ALWAYS. Otherwise she’ll skip town to find someone who listens.

    As for Peter O’Toole and his blue, blue eyes, many is the heart he snagged of both genders. He has a universal appeal. 😍

    Liked by 1 person

    • Agreed, in that The Muse is fickle. You either seize the moment, or she flies away to a timeshare in Boca Raton…

      And Peter? Well, most reports indicate that he was rather an untrustworthy scoundrel. But those eyes…

      Liked by 1 person

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