In a 1971 “false memoir” called “Wolf,” written while Harrison was convalescing from a fall off a cliff, he suggested curing heartbreak by broiling a two- to three-pound porterhouse, eating it with your hands, followed by a hot bath in which you consume the best bourbon you can buy until the bottle is empty. Then sleep for a day. Ladies and gentlemen, this works.
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Insanely, Harrison wrote the screenplay for Wolf, the shit movie with Nicholson as a werewolf, which has nothing to do with the book Wolf.
posted by Divine_Wino at 9:55 AM on March 28, 2008