„Floating to shore... riding a low moon... on a slow cloud.“

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Context: I would like to do Shakespeare's only unknown piece, That's the Way I Lick It... It's a bleak night my Lord. Look! The moon like a testicle hangs low in the sky. This bodes not well.... Anon, post-haste, let's get a larger crowd in here. Free Cocaine! There's no luck. Does anyone have drugs to ease my pain? My Kingdom for a Quaalude! … It is the end! I must go, for I cannot come here, and yet, it has been brief, 'tis over, and the lights do turn bright. <!-- You aren't going to help me are you? Performance at the L.A. Improv (1977)

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