I fell down in Hyde Park with a friend who'd had a hip operation, and neither of us could get up again. People must have thought we were a couple of drunks rolling around and walked on by.
I only worked on Men of Honor for three weeks, but I walked away with so much. Because Bob is the kind of actor who gives you the opportunity to really go there. And we really had to go there. I mean, we were both playing drunks.
When cars honk and hoot and drunks squeeze out of car windows and scream, you can be sure that football is in the air.
Things got so bad that when I went shopping for a house, some people would refuse to open the door if they saw it was me standing there. And drunks would always want to challenge me.
My folks were drunks, and I had a rough childhood - really rough - in fact, rougher than I thought about.
My forte is playing drunks down the ages. When my agent rings me about a role, I don't ask what the part is, but what century it's in.
God watches over drunks and third baseman.
If the Internet, ubiquitous as it now is, proves too dangerous in the hands of the psychologically fragile, perhaps access to it ought to be restricted. We ban drunks from driving because they're a danger to others. Isn't it time we did the same to trolls?
We were playing, not for the drunks, but for the musicians, because it was more intellectually challenging. We needed somewhere to put our energy to show that we were growing, and as we started to achieve this, people came to hear us musically.
I knew how it was with drunks. They ran out of generosity, even for themselves.
