A stocky young man (a big little boy he more accurately seemed to me) came out of the bushes. “I crashed this party,” he said. “Fuck everyone!”
So it was that I first encountered Dennis Hopper...
...I was glad to run into him at a cafe in Taos, New Mexico, where he sported a ten-gallon hat and a five-year-old named Henry, child of his latest (then fourth) marriage.
“Say hello to my old friend Gwen,” he said to Henry.
“Why?” said Henry.
“Because I asked you to,” said Dennis.
“Fuck you,” Henry said.
-"Remembering Dennis Hopper", Gwen DavisCharmed by the profanity of the child, only after having read a conversation between Hopper, Brook Hayward, and Marin Hopper.
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