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<div style="RIGHT: auto"><VAR style="RIGHT: auto">Since we're all potty mouths today, on a recent TV rewatching of The Big</VAR></div>
<div style="RIGHT: auto"><VAR style="RIGHT: auto">Lebowski, I noticed, as if for the first time, that when the thugs first ambush</VAR></div>
<div style="RIGHT: auto"><VAR style="RIGHT: auto">the Dude in his apartment and plunge him into his own toilet demanding to</VAR></div>
<div style="RIGHT: auto"><VAR style="RIGHT: auto">know "Where's the money, Lebowski?", he, when surfaced & pissed, sez, "i don't</VAR></div>
<div style="RIGHT: auto"><VAR style="RIGHT: auto">know, let me look again" [or close], which, whereever the intellectual Coen Brothers</VAR></div>
<div style="RIGHT: auto"><VAR style="RIGHT: auto">got inspiration for the scene, certainly looks like a possible influence on Lew----besides</VAR></div>
<div style="RIGHT: auto"><VAR style="RIGHT: auto">TRPs own famous toilet scene---who,<VAR id=yui-ie-cursor></VAR> when he looks in the toilet to help solve his mystery</VAR></div>
<div style="RIGHT: auto"><VAR style="RIGHT: auto">sees money..............................</VAR></div>
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<div style="RIGHT: auto"><BR>The toilet scene from Trainspotting (with a very young Ewan McGregor) must have been inspired by Slothrop:<BR><BR>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJrWlHRT-18<BR><BR>Laura<BR>-----Original Message----- <BR>From: David Morris <BR>Sent: Mar 15, 2012 11:13 PM <BR>To: Rich Clavey <BR>Cc: pynchon -l <BR>Subject: Re: Slothrop's Restaurant <BR><BR>This reality is way more gross than Slothrop's. He only ot a dingleberry up his nose and a rhythmic underworld pounding from... Behind? Pass the talcum, Malcolm!<BR><BR>On Thursday, March 15, 2012, Rich Clavey <<A href="mailto:antizoyd@yahoo.com" ymailto="mailto:antizoyd@yahoo.com">antizoyd@yahoo.com</A>> wrote:<BR>> Back at another restaurant where Fred and I used to work, there was a grease trap underneath the dish pit. A deep one. A fucking Jacuzzi of a grease trap. One night I was working and I saw water start to spread across the kitchen floor: backed-up toilet out
in the hallway. Maybe it's a simple plumbing problem, I hoped. But then a turd floats in, then a tampon, then toilet paper, and then I noticed the grease trap steaming up. FUCK. This is 7:30 and the dining room is full.<BR>> The first option, the win-the-lotto option, was jam a coat hanger down the grease trap and see if it's a plastic bag blocking it or something. But it wasn't. And it was now three minutes later and the restaurant wasn't any less packed and there was shit water creeping up, so I did what you do if you want to go around calling yourself a chef: I took my shirt off and my friend and cook Alex held me by my ankles as I descended into the grease trap with the top half of my body.<BR>> My eyes closed, and my mouth closed. It was just muck. Fecal, bilious muck. And I put my hand in the drain and I pulled out who knows what--fucking pasta and flour and a nut of shit. I dug it out and heard a sucking sound of the trap emptying itself
out and Alex pulled me out.<BR>> It was just like being covered in rotting corpse oil. It's in your eyes and your mouth and your ears, and it doesn't come off with just soap. I had to wash down as quick as possible, as best I could, and get back to cooking because the dining room's full and that's my fucking job. You're thinking about how nice your duck is and I'm thinking about the shit that's still down there deep in my ears.<BR>><BR>> From: The Art of Toilet Cleanliness According to Joe Beef/Lucky Peach #3<BR>><BR>><BR>> http://www.macclaveyphotography.com/<BR>><BR><BR><BR></div></div></body></html>