It must be hard being Russell Crowe. After all, most of his time, he isn't Russell Crowe at all, he is:
a) An Australian success story
b) A Hollywood celebrity
c) A person pretending to be someone else (ie, an actor).
Obviously, after his latest little spat with a clerk in a hotel lobby, Russell is finding it all a little bit - difficult. But imagine what it's like for the police interviewing him...
Detective: Mr Crowe, could you state your full name and address, please?
Russell: Russell Maximus Decimus Meridius The Gladiator John Forbes Nash Bud White Hando Sid Jeffrey Wigan Crowe of Sydney, Ancient Rome, Australia, The Arena, Ohio, Los Angeles, Hollywood, The World, The Galaxy, The Universe.
D: Uh - huh. And how do you spell that?
D: Now, er, Russell, I put it to you that on the morning in the question, you took the phone to the front lobby of the hotel and you threw it at the witness...
R: THE GLADIATOR does not have to listen to these accusations! THE GLADIATOR can not be beaten! THE GLADIATOR...
D: Did you or did you not throw the phone?
R: Well, picking up the handset, I proceeded to project it across the room at a mean velocity of 10 metres per second, in a parabolic arc, so that it landed...
D: Mr. Crowe?
R: Er, yes. Yes I did.
Don't blame him, people of the world. He's from Australia. We're descended from convicts, and over here in Australia, crime is not only legal, it's compulsory. At least, I think it is. I don't really know much about history.
Now, where was I again?
Tim, your links stink, you fink!
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