So George Clooney and I are having a few beers, and we start talking Wall Street, Bear Stearns and all the rest . . . The next thing I know, I’m faced, he whips out a tape recorder, and being pretty soused, I just go off for 45 minutes. You can read most of it in this month’s mag right online.
Good stuff (be forewarned of the R-rated language). Clooney always gets me saying stuff that’s a bit embarrassing.
Oh, well, such is life. What’s a few F-bombs between friends?
Don’t Fear the Bear
Esquire, March 20, 2008, 7:45 AM