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Oh yeah, there was a point where they said they thought the threat had probably or had possibly been overstated, and then they started to question their sources, and blah, blah, blah. But I don't know how it was resolved, you know? But they were serious about it. And what can you say? I mean, gee, there were a lot of man-hours spent doing that gig, so the least I can say is, "Thank you very much."

 

Russell Crowe

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Marcia: Lovely. Yeah, go the rock chick. Yeah, um, you've been so great through this competition. Um, we've said no, you've come back blah blah blah blah. (sic). You know, um, its great to see you grow Hayley. Uh huh, and step out of that place that's comfortable because that's what being a performer is. Congratulations and a great choice of song.

 

Hayley Jensen

 

I went, and I was rejected immediately — like that. First chance I got to sing, they said "you have a very excellent voice, it's amazing, blah, blah, blah — not what we're looking for." And that was it. And you know, thinking about it later: I don't think it's really for me — you know what I mean? That's all we're going to say about that. Let's move on.

 

Ysabella Brave

 

Everything I ever projected New York to be, it was—even the stinky, ratty, vomity part of it. Everybody has to do the subway. Everybody has to smell the same smells. And people get mad all the time. When people don’t like something, like ‘Get out of my way you blah, blah, blah.’ But [in L.A.] it’s like, ‘How ya doing? Let’s do lunch! I love you!’

 

Jeff Buckley

 

I give up. Game over. The blame game is not over. Try as I may to get this administration to move on and claim ownership for this economy it's still, still blaming the prior administration for this economy. More than a year in still copping out. The mess we inherited, the bailouts we had to figure out, the banks that went bust, not on our watch but their watch, blah, blah, blah.

 

Neil Cavuto

 

This is the real and the only reason for friendship: to provide a mirror so the other person can contemplate his image from the past, which, without the eternal blah-blah of memories between pals, would long ago have disappeared.

 

Milan Kundera