hey, mr. kotter
dear mr. travolta,
putting scientology aside, why are you such a freak? and why do you always have to dance? i understand your connection to saturday night fever and all, but dude, that was like thirty years ago. also, why are you a pilot for quantas airlines? and another thing, please tell your equally crazy wife kelly to stop spoutin' off about your sex life to the public. now, i know that you are part of the mile high club, but it doesn't even count when you do it in your own quantas airplane. i do thoroughly regret ever thinking that you were actually kind of attractive and an okay actor in the movie blow out.
yours truly,
hazeldove
p.s. i hope that you are taking care of your sister, ellen, financially. i haven't really seen her in anything since charles in charge went off the air.
posted by hazeldove at 2:10 PM
2 Comments:
Blow Out is a masterpiece, as is Grease and Carrie. And this is to say nothing of Urban Cowboy, his fine comic stylings on Kotter or that truly moving romance he did with Lily Tomlin, or even his original interpretation of the Boy in the Bubble (Jake, bitch, you got nothing on John). This photograph however reminds me that he also did those talking baby movies, a Get Shorty sequel, and that fucking smoking angel movie.
you sure do know your travolta, walter. actually, i'm also a fan of his early work and have been meaning to see blow out, again. i shouldn't be so hard on him, but people change, man.
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