For the past couple of weeks I've been suffering from bouts of vertigo. It's been murder, but even more disappointing has been the fact that Kim Novak hasn't appeared.
I confess, every morning I descend the thirty nine steps to my rear window, part the torn curtain and, spellbound, look longingly for her. I search south by southeast as well as north by northwest. Even on my way to work I search the faces of strangers on a train hoping that I will find the young and innocent visage of Ms. Novak. If she is aboard, the lady vanishes before I can espy her.
Without a shadow of a doubt, I'm at the end of my rope. In fact, I'm in a bit of a frenzy. I even have my suspicion that her absence might be a family plot. Who, I wonder, can be the saboteur?
Jeez, I sound like some kind of a psycho, don't I? I'm telling you, man, this obsession is strictly for the birds.
Please help out the National Film Preservation Foundation.
5 comments:
I love it. This is Norm's contribution to what he calls the "Hitchcockathon". Oh, Norm.
Succinct and delightful....
Thenk yew. I'm notorious for being the wrong man for the job(stage fright and all that) but after sixteen tries, number 17 turned out to be lucky.
Norm, I toast you with a glass of champagne! But you do realize that it's all downhill from here?
I have no choice but to believe what you say is true since you are the man who knows too much
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