#george and johnny italian

[alightinthelantern]

Movies on Youtube:

Brief Encounter (1945, David Lean)

Opening Night (1977, John Cassavetes)

Close Up (1990, Abbas Kiarostami)

Taste of Cherry (1997, Abbas Kiarostami)

The Song of Sparrows (2008,  Majid Majidi)

Russian Ark (2002, Alexander Sokurov)

Dreams (1990, Akira Kurosawa)

Dersu Uzala (1975, Akira Kurosawa)

The Idiot (1951, Akira Kurosawa)

Drunken Angel (1948, Akira Kurosawa)

Tokyo Story (1953, Yasujirō Ozu)

Early Summer (1951, Yasujirō Ozu)

Late Spring (1949, Yasujirō Ozu)

The Flavor of Green Tea over Rice (1952, Yasujirō Ozu)

Good Morning (1959, Yasujirō Ozu)

An Autumn Afternoon (1962, Yasujirō Ozu)

Sword for Hire (1952, Inagaki Hiroshi)

Rebecca (1940, Alfred Hitchcock)

Thunderbolt (1929, Josef von Sternberg)

Larceny (1948, George Sherman)

Among the Living (1941, Stuart Heisler)

Andrei Rublev (1966, Andrei Tarkovsky)

Mirror (1975, Andrei Tarkovsky)

Solaris (1972, Andrei Tarkovsky)

Ivan’s Childhood (1962, Andrei Tarkovsky)

Aguirre, the Wrath of God (1972, Werner Herzog)

Fitzcarraldo (1982, Werner Herzog)

Medea (1969, Pier Paolo Pasolini)

Medea (filmed stageplay)

Is It Easy To Be Young? (1986, Juris Podnieks)

We'll Live Till Monday (1968, Stanislav Rostotsky)

Ordinary Fascism (aka Triumph Over Violence) (1965, Mikhail Romm)

Battleship Potemkin (1925, Sergei Eisenstein)

The Third Man (1949, Carol Reed)

Johnny Come Lately (1943, William K. Howard)

Mister 880 (1950, Edmund Goulding)

Beethoven’s Eroica (2003, Simon Cellan Jones)

Katyn (2007, Andrzej Wajda)

Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events (2004, Brad Silberling)

Mean Girls (2004, Mark Waters)

The Neverending Story (1984, Wolfgang Petersen)

The NeverEnding Story II: The Next Chapter (1990, George T. Miller)

The Thief and the Cobbler (Richard Williams)

Osmosis Jones (2001, myriad directors)

Megamind (2010, Tom McGrath)

Ghost in the Shell (1995, Mamoru Oshii)

Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence (2004, Mamoru Oshii)

Steamboy (2004, Katsuhiro Otomo)

Badlands (1973), Terrence Malick

Wargames (1983, John Badham)

By the White Sea (2022, Aleksandr Zachinyayev)

White Moss (2014, Vladimir Tumayev)

The Theme (1979, Gleb Panfilov)

The Duchess (2008, Saul Dibb)

Bed and Sofa (1927, Abram Room)

Fate of a Man (1959, Sergei Bondarchuk)

Ballad of a Soldier (1959, Grigory Chukhray)

Uncle Vanya (1970, Andrey Konchalovskiy)

An Unfinished Piece for Mechanical Piano (1977, Nikita Mikhalkov)

Family Relations (1981, Nikita Mikhalkov)

The Seagull (1970, Yuli Karasik)

My Tender and Affectionate Beast (1978, Emil Loteanu)

Dreams (1993, Karen Shakhnazarov & Alexander Borodyansky)

The Vanished Empire (2008, Karen Shakhnazarov)

Winter Evening in Gagra (1985, Karen Shakhnazarov)

Day of the Full Moon (1998, Karen Shakhnazarov)

Zero Town (1989, Karen Shakhnazarov)

The Girls (1961, Boris Bednyj)

The Diamond Arm (1969, Leonid Gaidai)

Operation Y and Shurik's Other Adventures (1965, Leonid Gaidai)

Ivan Vasilievich Changes Profession (1973, Leonid Gaidai)

Unbelievable Adventures of Italians in Russia (1974, Eldar Ryazanov & Franco Prosperi)

Office Romance (1977, Eldar Ryazanov)

Carnival Night (1956, Eldar Ryazanov)

Hussar Ballad (1962, Eldar Ryazanov)

Kin-dza-dza! (1986, Georgiy Daneliya)

The Most Charming and Attractive (1985, Gerald Bezhanov)

Autumn (1974, Andrei Smirnov)

War and Peace: Part 1 (1966, Sergei Bondarchuk)

War and Peace: Part 2 (1966, Sergei Bondarchuk)

War and Peace: Part 3 (1967, Sergei Bondarchuk)

War and Peace: Part 4 (1967, Sergei Bondarchuk)

The Red Tent (first half) (1969, Mikhail Kalatozov)

The Red Tent (second half) (1969, Mikhail Kalatozov)

Sherlock Holmes: The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939, Sidney Lanfield)

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (1939, Alfred L. Werker)

Sherlock Holmes and the Voice of Terror (1942, John Rawlins)

Sherlock Holmes and the Secret Weapon (1943, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes in Washington (1943, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes Faces Death (1943, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: The Spider Woman (1944, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: The Scarlet Claw (1944, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: The Pearl of Death (1944, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: The House of Fear (1945, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: The Woman in Green (1945, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: Pursuit to Algiers (1945, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: Terror by Night (1946, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: Dressed to Kill (1946, Roy William Neill)

If any of the links don’t work, try looking up the film in this playlist: link

[satansapostle6]

Love The Sinner | Dexter Morgan

Dexter Morgan, a vigilante serial killer hiding in plain sight, loses sleep for the first time in his life when he’s met with the very last thing he expected: a kindred spirit.

Warnings: Violence. Mature language and themes. Sexual content.

Part One.

Part Two. Innocent Until Proven Sexy.

Johnny Bertelli, in the many long months of my murder trial, became my favorite fucking person. The jury thankfully didn’t really see it that way, but we were running circles around the prosecutors. Our claim was naturally self defense, and I have to admit, it was a fucking good one. Story goes, I entered George Randall’s house to confront him, for causing my daughter’s suicide. I got angry, and things got heated, with neighbors to attest to the fact that we were both yelling. George got angry, and attacked me. And I defended myself. The story’s so good, even I believe it.

Technically, I did come to return George’s dishes to him, and he did get pretty heated with me when we argued, so really, we weren’t telling too many lies here. As far as George’s various embellishments, this case was pretty clean. I would say the only challenge Johnny and I faced in court was spinning my obvious lack of remorse when I was arrested. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Johnny take on a real challenge. It really is funny to watch this giant Italian guy pacing about the court during his addresses to the court while he’s built like Luca Brasi.

At the moment, I’m sitting up on the stand beside the judge, while the entire courtroom scrutinizes my every move and micro expression. There are about fifty pairs of eyes on me, but right now, I only care about one. A pair of sharp green eyes, that I still recognize from when I couldn’t work that goddamn phone. But I quickly snapped out of it, bringing my attention back to Johnny, and the trial. Somehow, this felt less interesting.

“So. Nicole, I know you’ve been through a lot in the past year or so, so forgive me,” my lawyer began, evoking sympathy from the court, “But did you have any intention of murdering George Randall when you knocked on his door?”

I took a moment, almost chewing on the question as I reluctantly relished its bitter taste.

“No.”

One thing good lawyers tell you: never answer more than the question you’re being asked. Even if you think it makes you sound better.

“Now, Nicole… I’m sorry that we have to go through this… Frankly, hurtful line of questioning. If you need to, just focus on me, alright? For now, this is between us. Not the court.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

Johnny nodded kindly. God, we were fucking good at this. I was so close to nominating us both for Academy Awards.

“Can you tell me what you were thinking, as you knocked on George’s door?”

I thought for a moment, calling back to our preparations for this trial.

“I… I was naturally angry, and disgusted, when I read my daughter’s suicide note, stating that George Randall had…”

I did genuinely choke on the word.

“Raped… my daughter,” I told Johnny. “I was appalled, but… More than anything, I wanted answers.”

Johnny looks at me curiously. “‘Answers’?”

I cleared my throat. “I… I just couldn’t understand how someone, a human being, could be capable of that sort of evil. I mean, to rape a child? To cause a twelve year-old girl, my little girl, to take her own life? What kind of monster does that?”

Johnny nods, agreeing with me. “Yes. It’s unthinkable. That’s what it is, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, unthinkable, and unspeakable… But unfortunately, my client, Nicole, does not have the luxury of being able to ignore what this man did… Because this man’s evil claimed two lives; not only the life of twelve year-old Isabella Carvalho, but Nicole Carvalho’s as well, if the prosecution prevails,” he says harshly. “That is the truth; if the prosecution succeeds in wrongfully convicting Nicole Carvalho of murder, she will receive a prison sentence, or God forbid, the death penalty, for defending herself against the man who attacked her, the very same man who raped and drove her daughter to suicide at only twelve years old.”

Johnny nods solemnly, looking at me gratefully before turning to the court.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I believe that this is a crucial factor in this case; George Randall may be dead today, but the fact remains, he was neither murdered, nor a victim. He raped a twelve year-old girl.”

A harsh wave of silence washes over the court, as most hold their breath.

“He raped a twelve year old-girl, driving her to the irreversible act of suicide at the young age of twelve, not even a teenager yet, and when that girl’s mother knocked on her door, he couldn’t handle it, and lashed out at her!”

The jury seemed just as disturbed as they should’ve been at this. I sat quietly on the stand, not having to say a word. Johnny was working the court. Together, we were such good liars, I think we even believed ourselves, on some level. As Johnny continued his argument, highlighting me as the victim in our perfect narrative, I looked around the room with a deep sadness in my eyes. I really was thinking about my daughter. I felt like I was living in some dystopian world, a world where my daughter was dead, and I had become a murderer.

Everything around me felt so distant and surreal, but then, I looked into his eyes. The man I had hardly noticed before, because he looked like every man. It was him, watching my trial, next to another man he’d come with, a short bald man. I couldn’t believe my eyes, but it really was him, the man who had helped me with the phone at Miami Metro all those months ago. It was him, I was sure of it, sitting there lost in the crowd watching the proceedings of my court case with his eyes darting back and forth like at a basketball game. I looked right into his cold green eyes, and suddenly, reality hit me again.

I was no longer lost in my melancholic fantasy. I was brought back to real life, in all its delicious violence and passion. I didn’t believe in God, but this man had the presence of an angel. Not, like, a cartoonish cherub with tiny wings and a halo, but a real, biblically accurate angel. I looked into his cold, icy eyes that seemed to watch me with an almost inhuman precision, and I felt so strange. This feeling was like nothing I’d ever experienced before with any other stranger. I looked into his eyes, felt his austere gaze on me, and I could’ve sworn it was like all the blood drained from my body.

I looked into this man’s eyes, and I felt more things in that one millisecond than I’d ever felt in my life. This man looked to me like an angel. Not because he was so soft and comforting, but because I could’ve sworn I looked into his hawklike eyes and heard a voice tell me ‘do not be afraid’. It felt just as surreal as a human in the bible encountering a real angel, in all its terrifying glory. In that moment, I had no idea what came over me, but when our eyes met, I looked at him for a moment, no longer lying, or playing a character. I looked at him from across the room, electrified, and for a split second, I smiled. I don’t know why, I couldn’t help it.

I risked my entire court case just to look at this strange man across the room, and I just smiled, with no remorse or concern for anything but my own appetites. What was even stranger was that he looked at me, saw my flirtatious smile, and returned it, for so short of a time that afterwards, I couldn’t even be sure if it was real.

*****

After today, I left the court room with Johnny in tears. Real tears. Not many of them, but enough to warrant sunglasses. I was still emotional about Isabella, given that she was practically murdered, and it just so happened that it came out from time to time in public. After walking out of the courthouse with Johnny, with his hand on my back as we ran past the journalists trying to get interviews and photos, I wiped away the last of my tears, brushing mascara clumps off of my fingers.

“You did good, kiddo,” Johnny promises me.

I just smile, nodding. I love this man, because he talks to me like we’re on The Sopranos. I hurry down the street with him in my Jimmy Choos, rushing to our cars just as I accidentally bump into a man on the street.

“Oh, sorry—!” the man exclaims, as his companion turns.

I suddenly stop as, right there on the street, the man from Miami Metro and his bald friend stand right in front of us. Johnny is somewhat confused by my lingering, but waits with me. The bald man looks at me like he’s seen a ghost, staring at me like he’s starstruck. Fuck, I think, he must recognize me. I thought he was about to panic, or act like I have something contagious, given about half of society currently sees me as a murderer, but he seems to have a completely different reaction.

“O-Oh my God!” the little bald man exclaims, as the other man just smiles at me uncomfortably. “You’re—You’re—”

He seems incapable of finishing the sentence.

“Nicole Carvalho,” I finish the sentence for him.

“…Miami MILF!” he exclaims, before I can finish. “Murderer I’d Like to Fuck!”

I frowned, not really expecting that as Johnny chivalrously comes to my defense.

“Hey, pal…” my lawyer begins, before I cut him off.

“Johnny, it’s alright,” I turned to him, not threatened by this man.

The bald Japanese man scrambles before just handing me his coffee cup. “Do you think you could sign this?!”

As far as strange interactions after I became a household name, this honestly wasn’t the worst.

“You… want me to sign this?” I question, needing confirmation as he hands me the mostly empty coffee cup.

He nods. “Yeah!”

But before this can go any further, the man from Miami Metro intervenes, taking the coffee cup from me as an act of courtesy.

“Okay, Masuka,” he says responsibly, “I don’t think we need to do that—”

I take the cup back, smiling as I fish for a pen in my purse. “It’s alright,” I promise them, deciding to just sign the cup, “I’ve always wanted to give an autograph, albeit, under different circumstances… What’s your name?”

The bald man practically jumps for joy as I sign the cup. “Vince. It’s Vince.”

Honestly, his morbid fascination with me was somewhat… well… fascinating. I was probably a murderer, or at the very least definitely a killer, but he didn’t seem to care, because I looked good in a pencil skirt. God, the halo effect is real.

“Okay, great, I’ll make this out to Vince:”

“Thank you!” Vince says far too enthusiastically.

I nod. “Mm-hmm.”

The man from Miami Metro just stands there, awkwardly, frowning sympathetically as I sign and give back the paper cup.

“Here you go,” I say charismatically, “Just… Promise not to lift it for prints, okay?”

This makes even the sandy-haired guy from the police station chuckle, before Johnny chimes in, with perfect comedic timing.

“She’s kidding, of course,” Johnny says quickly, smiling, “You wouldn’t find much if you did.”

I smile as I seem to have made the bald man, Masuka’s, day.

“Thank you,” the sandy-haired guy says sheepishly, “And sorry…”

“Not a problem,” I offer, “At least I get to feel like a celebrity for… two seconds.”

“Oh, come on,” Vince Masuka says, “I’m sure guys ask you for autographs all the time.”

I smile awkwardly. “Surprisingly, no.”

“Really?” he thinks. “Huh. Well, they should, because… All due respect… You’re a dime piece.”

I smile. “Well, that just brightens up my day….”

He laughs a laugh that I can only describe as Beavis and Butthead-esque.

“Alright, well… Thank you for your time,” the Miami Metro guy thanks me politely and apologetically. “Vince… let’s leave the nice woman alone,” he prompted, seeming desperate to get away.

But why? Why was this man who had been watching me for days suddenly so keen on getting away? He must’ve wanted some semblance of distance from me… To watch me in the shadows, without me knowing he’s there. He was trying to get away, but I didn’t let him. I just couldn’t. He was like a fly stuck in my trap.

“I’m sorry, what was your name?” I ask him.

Forget the cat, curiosity was killing me.

“Uh, Dexter,” he says in a friendly manner, shaking my hand.

“Dexter,” I smile, as if trying it out.

Of course it had to be something like that. I considered that maybe he’d given me a fake name, but given that he had a friend with him, I supposed it probably wasn’t.

“Well, Vince, Dexter, it was nice meeting you,” I wave as I walk away with Johnny.

Vince looks at me like a lost puppy, waving hopelessly as I walk away. Dexter, on the other hand, gives me a tiny wave before the friendly smile on his face disappears, revealing a colder, smarter mind beneath the surface, if only for a second. I had no idea who this man was, or why he was really so interested in my case. Logic told me he could’ve been just as pervy of a fanboy as his friend, but something told me it certainly wasn’t that. I didn’t know what his fascination was with me, but I knew it was something dark. There was something just so present, and unnerving, in the way he looked at me, even just as he waved goodbye to me on the street.

I just couldn’t quite place it, and it was killing me. I racked my brain, but still, I couldn’t think of just one instance where somebody looked at me the exact same way this Dexter character did. It was strange. However, there was one memory of someone in particular that wasn’t exact, but a close match. The closest thing to the look I saw in Dexter’s eyes was the look in George Randall’s eyes, right before he died, somewhere between the tenth and eleventh stab wound.

-

Part Three.

[tavolgisvist]

The first night [in Paris, 1964], John and Paul stayed in their suite, listening to records and reading fan mail. George, who had been signed for £100 a day by the Daily Express to write of his experiences in Paris, went to a night club in the Place Pigalle. His column was dictated to Derek Taylor, an Express reporter given to Italianate suits and talking out of the side of his mouth. <…> Back in the City of Light, John and Paul slept till three o’clock in the afternoon. That much everybody is agreed on. From then on the stories differ. According to George in the Daily Express: We stopped the traffic on the Champs-Élysées today, or rather hordes of girls did, clamouring for autographs. John, Paul, and I had gone for a mid-afternoon stroll in the gentle sunshine when we were spotted. Beautiful girls ran from gown shops waving paper and pens. French cabbies cursed and waved their fists as we were engulfed. Next we tried to sit at a kerb-side café for a drink, but it was impossible. We ran for a taxi, a crowd followed, and a new traffic jam started. The gendarmerie dragged people off the bonnet of the taxi and we escaped to our hotel. Is Beatlemania starting off here? There are signs. However, Vincent Mulchrone, the award-winning veteran reporter for the Daily Mail, wrote: If Paris and the Beatles are going to have an affair, it is getting off to a slow start. You can’t blame Paris. She was warm and inviting this morning. The Beatles were warm, but only because they were asleep, and stayed that way until three o’clock in the afternoon. Admittedly, George Harrison was astir early, but John Lennon and Paul McCartney slumbered on until frantic photographers forced them at lens point into the Champs-Élysées. <…> At one point, a young man dressed as the French singer Johnny Hallyday came on stage and was carried off by Mal Evans, a hulking giant of a man who transports the Beatles’ amplifiers and drums.

(Love Me Do. The Beatles Progress by Michael Braun, 1963/1995)

Part (I), (II), (III), (IV), (V), (VI), (VII), (VIII)

[next-autopsy]

A/N: Well, hi there! Here it is, read and enjoy. I love hearing from you so please drop a comment if you like.

Based on the actors portrayal/hbo show and written with no disrespect to the real life veterans. Also all images found on Pinterest.

TW: Swearing, vomiting... i think that's it?

Made of Glass

Chapter twelve: Is this Comfort?

If Bernadette Coldwell never vomited again, she would die a happy woman. 

The second Easy started running with bellies full of the Italian adjacent meal, the gagging and heaving began. Not long into the three miles up and several men couldn't hold it back any longer and emptied the contents of their stomachs. 

The sight of the men hurling and smell of their partially digested food festering in the Georgian heat is what got Birdie tossing her cookies down the front of her white shirt. 

She didn't even stop to wipe her face, she could feel another bout of spew rising up her chest, so why bother? 

The most degrading thing about it was having to stand outside the men's showers, covered in her own throw up, and wait for Johnny to be done cleaning himself so she could do the same. 

Birdie sat on the floor, leaning against the building. Her clean clothes and towel were wrapped up in her arms as she questioned why she enlisted and how she got to this point in her life. 

That's how Martin found her, contemplating her existence and sulking about the way they had spent the afternoon. She got up wordlessly and dragged herself to the women's showers. He followed her and stood guard outside so she could rid herself of the brutal stench. 

Not many actually ate the food served to them at dinner, most picked at it but with all the achy tummies and sore throats, the food was wasted. 

“Why do I feel hungover?” Birdie mumbled, voice croaky and weak. She had her head resting on Toye’s shoulder, who looped an arm around her torso to help prop her up. 

“Hey, how old are you, Birdie?” George questioned, pushing the food around on his plate. 

“19.” She responded, she had her eyes closed, the sick feeling hadn’t quite left her system. 

“So... how do you know what a hangover feels like?” Luz grinned, watching as the girl's eyes flashed wide, and she sat up a little straighter. Her mouth opened and gaped like a fish, but no explanation came out. 

Toye laughed at her reaction and unwrapped his limb from around her, teasingly patted her thigh. She’d been called out for underage drink and oddly enough her first instinct was to look over at the three Sergeants who had been babysitting her to see if they had heard.  

Lipton, Martin and Bull continued their own conversation blissfully unaware, and Birdie felt weirdly relieved. 

As the mess hall vacated, Johnny took his place at Birdie's side, ready to walk her to her barracks. Martin opened his mouth with the intention of checking on the girl, but he was interrupted. 

“Hey- woah! You look like shit.” It was the male Coldwell, jumping out from around the corner and making Birdie flinch. 

“Oh, hush your mouth. I've had a helluva day.” Her voice was scratchy and tired. She didn't really want to deal with her high energy brother, but she was happy to see him, nonetheless. 

“Wanna tell me about it?” He offered, eyes flicking to Martin, who stood back watching the siblings with much interest. Johnny understood his silent implication; asking him to leave the family members alone and so did Birdie, so she spoke up, mediating between the two virtual strangers. 

“James'll walk me back, you're free to go.” Her lips were curved into a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes, she was feeling the effects of the day. Johnny didn't argue, he trusted Birdie's own flesh and blood to look after her and his own bed was calling to him. He double checked with her, just to be sure, and when she nodded, he set off. 

“So... Tough day, huh?” James shot his sister a side glance, watching as she sighed and allowed her shoulder to sag. He wrapped his arm around her and took lead in their stroll, letting her put her weight on him. 

They wandered in the direction of Birdie's barracks, linked at their arms. Bernadette vented to her brother, they had always been best friends and shared everything. Most people confused them as twins since the age gap between them was so small. 

Birdie had no tears left, her exhaustion had drained them out of her, so when she told him all the details of the dark events, she kept a straight face. James had frozen in place, paying attention to his baby sister. Their arms unhooked and Birdie took a step away from James, she still felt the guilt and wanted space to speak without his hands on her. 

James was shocked to learn his sister had almost been attacked and it only solidified his idea. He wanted her to pack up and leave, go back home and live her life the right way. He told her she shouldn't have come to Camp Toccoa and tried to reason that she could have easily been in Harriet's place. He was worried for her and the last thing he wanted was to see his little sister in a hospital bed... or worse. 

Each word stoked the growing fire in Birdie's heart, she was equal parts hurt and pissed off. She let his words hang in the stale air, the tension between the siblings was palpable. Bernadette brewed, listening to him go on about her giving up and how much safer she would be at home. 

“I wrote Ma and Pa and-” 

“You what?” She couldn't hold it back anymore, that was the last straw. She had heard enough of his doubts and could not bear to stand there and listen to him yap any longer. 

“I expected that from every other man here... but not you.” Birdie shook her head, disappointed and frustrated, “You are meant to be on my side....” She put more distance between them, stepping back. James softened at the look he gave her, broken and uncertain. His intention wasn't to upset her, he wanted her to at least consider the option of bowing out gracefully. 

“Birdie...” He reached out his hand to comfort her, but she stepped back further. The distrust she felt for him was visible in her stance and he saw it clearly. 

“Don't....” Bernadette spat, turning her back to him and walking away, leaving him solo on the dirt path where they once stood together, arm in arm. 

The building that housed the women's toilets came into Birdie’s view and she ducked into it, needed to splash some water in her face. The moment she was alone with four walls encompassing her, she broke down. Her brothers' words had cut her deep and the tears were back, flowing freely once again. 

Birdie took a moment to focus on drawing breath but was interrupted by heavy footsteps outside. She halted all movements, keeping quiet to listen and see if the person was coming or going. 

They stopped just outside the entry door, Birdie's stomach dropped. It was dark outside, and no one knew she was here, she had sent Johnny away and left her sibling and now she was alone. 

Well not completely alone, an unknown being was standing right outside, waiting for her. 

“Is someone out there?” Bernadette called out the door, her voice was still wavering from the spilt tears and now her anxiety was rising, adding fear to her already wobbly tone.   

“It’s Joe…. Uh Liebgott.”  

“Oh…?” The concern was replaced with confusion, why was he here? 

She stepped out into the dark night air and immediately spotted the man. His shoulder leaned against the side of the building, and he had a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth. 

“Where’s your shadow?” He asked her, the smoke twirled upwards and dispersed into nothing.  

“Oh I- I gave him the night off…” It was her awkward attempt at humour. Liebgott was the last person she was expected to see, especially now with tear stains on her cheeks and the red puffy eyes that accompanied them.  

“I know Johnny wouldn’t’ve left you so easy.” Liebgott wasn’t being mean or snarky, he could see she was upset, and it threw him off.  

“Yeah, I was… I was with my brother…” Birdie watched as he smoothly slid out his pack of smokes like it was a practiced movement, he held it out towards her.  

“Ah the infamous brother, heard about that.” He paused, his eyes followed Birdie's hands, her slim fingers tugged a single cigarette out and brought it to her lips.  

“So what? He left you out here?” Lieb switched the cartoon for a lighter. Flicking it open, Joe eyed the woman in front of him, she leaned her head down until the flames tickled the end of her cigarette. Inhaling to aid the lighting process, she looked up at him through her lashes, to let him know he could pocket his lighter once more.  

“Ye-No, I left him…. We- We had a fight…” The smoke was exhaled in tandem of the words.  

“Oh….” Liebgott wasn’t sure what to say at this point, was he supposed to comfort her? “Uh...Did- I mean…. Did you want to, like, talk? About it?” He felt like smacking his palm to his forehead.  

“I don’t know… not really….”  

Silence.  

“What-” Birdie began to speak at the same time Joe opened his mouth and uttered: “Are you-”  

“You go first.” Joe had spoken so quickly he wasn’t sure if she heard him. Again, he wanted to hit his head on something, cringing internally. Why was he being so weird, and why couldn’t he stop it?  

“What am I doing here, Liebgott?” Her words were whispered, she sounded so unsure of herself.  

Quiet. What was he meant to do in this situation?  

“He told me to go home. That I don’t belong here.  And I’m starting to wonder… if he’s right…” She explained further, her words trailed off and her stare glazed over.  

Birdie inhaled the smoke far into her lungs, she wasn’t expecting Joe to respond. She doubted he even cared. She would finish her cigarette and head off to her barracks and pretend this never happened.  

“Fuck that.” Joe sounded angry? Upset? Maybe a little annoyed? 

“What?” She had heard him; it was just an instant response.  

“Your brother sounds like an asshole.”  

“Excuse me?!” Birdie's brows rose as high as they could. Normally she would defend her brother with everything she had, she decided to let this one slide, maybe Lieb would explain himself and maybe it would make sense.  

“I just mean- if he said that to you… instead of like, I don’t know, supporting you.”  

Stunned silence. 

He had hit the nail on the head. Bernadette had found herself thinking that exact thought: her own brother should’ve been supporting her. Lieb was right.  

Now she knows she is losing her mind, Lieb was right?! What is happening?  

“He’s wrong, ya know? You shouldn’t go home. You deserve to be here, just like everyone else- MORE than everyone else. You’re a tough gal.”  

More stunned silence.  

“Look it’s not my place to say but; don’t go home. You’d regret it.” Joe finished off his cigarette and dropped it to the patch of dirt they stood on, smushing the ember with his boot.  

“Why-…. Why are you being so nice to me? I- I thought…. you hated me?” Birdie was floored. Was this the same Liebgott she knew? The same one who made bitchy comments every time she walked in the room? The same guy who rolled his eyes every time she breathed?  

“I don’t hate you, Coldwell.” His voice was surprisingly gentle.  

“Really? Coulda fooled me.” Birdie snubbed out her own cigarette the same way he did, her eyes stayed glued to the crumpled butt she’d flattened into the ground.  

“I don’t….” Joe whispered. She heard him, but now both people couldn’t look each other in the eye so she pretended she hadn’t. Lieb stared off where mount Currahee would be seen in the daytime, he squinted his eyes imagining he could see it and slowly the outline came into view. Maybe his brain was just connecting the dots, he knew it was there, he knew what it looked like.  

Birdie examined the hard dirt beneath her boots. It had patches of grass dotted in that eventually connected and widened into a field. The brown earth was the most interesting thing she’d seen in her life, and she found herself mesmerized by the pattern of jagged cracks that flowed through. Her eyes followed one line in particular until it was lost under the layer of vegetation.  

Liebgott cleared his throat, gaining her attention.  

“I’ll- Uh… You shouldn’t be out here without a chaperone, ya know?” Joe was rubbing the back of his neck; he didn’t quite have the right words.  

“Walk me?” She prompted, but she didn’t wait for his answer. She just started walking, knowing she would hear his footsteps behind her. 

A/N: Okay well, in case you hadn't realised by now, this story is in fact; a Liebgott/Birdie rivals or slight enemies to lovers!! Surprise! And maybe the slow burn isn't as slow as I thought lol

~ next-autopsy ~

Chapter thirteen

[barnabycornellius]

INTRO

salut to the frontal lobes of tumblr Im barnaby slang for barnabycornellius and barnaby corn - I personally customize immaculate theories and rich food combos for only the living peeps of the world

I’m fluent in rus/eng and actively working on my français - also pls chat w me if you know yiddish or portuguese

I build hypoallergenic hydroelectrical dog dams for a living

interests:

general: music, typology, cool math that’s not bum, french surrealism era poetry, journaling, wokespawning, running, skiing, astrophysics and generating plasma, breeds of tea, yiddish, communicating with cats, psychology, domekeeper(the game), telegram, and bitcoin fishing

my music: Im in orchestra&jazz band and I love playing piano, cello, and upright+electric bass. I want to learn classical guitar and baritone sax

non classsical music: cocteau twins, henry mancini, gerry mulligan, wham, kool&the gang, casiopea, rus hi-fi, johnny marr, the art of noise, piero piccioni, lelio luttazzi, the sha la das, cortex, hiroshi, george michael, electronic, duran duran, roland dyens, bill evans, the doors..

classical absolute favs: debussy, ravel, chopin, scriabin

if you like the idea of cool jazz and old italian soundtracks + ethereal wave you should tots check out my spotty playlists https://open.spotify.com/user/ibns7as0tadijsmfg88313zkh?si=QIrawBh8Rxe2G_PcslSrYA

shows/movies: house m.d., that one movie with bjork (dancer in the dark), lawrence of arabia, idk give me recs

typology: attitudinal psyche is bomb🔥🔥and I can help type people in most systems except for the solar system one bc there’s lit like one source on that

I mainly specialize in wolf rank system typing though

[denimbex1986]

'Johnny Flynn was murdered within a week of stepping onto the set of Ripley.

The British actor plays Dickie Greenleaf in the eight-episode Netflix adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s 1955 novel The Talented Mr. Ripley and while he knew the character would meet an untimely demise in the story, he wasn’t prepared for it to be within days of meeting Andrew Scott, who plays the title character.

“I was just getting to know Andrew and there he is bludgeoning me and cradling my dead body,” Flynn tells Rolling Stone. “It was a good icebreaker. So basically I got to die in the first week and then I could get on with the living bits.”

Flynn initially auditioned to play Dickie—a role made famous onscreen by Jude Law in Anthony Minghella’s 1999 film—prior the the Covid pandemic. He devised an elaborate way to shoot audition tapes in his kitchen, reading all of the parts himself rather than asking someone else for help. Creator Steven Zaillian cast Flynn while he was in the midst of doing press for Autumn de Wilde’s whimsical take on Emma — and the actor still seems perplexed by how he ended up in Italy pretending to die on a boat. “I don’t know why he cast me,” Flynn says, slightly laughing.

While Ripley exists in the shadow of the acclaimed 1999 film, the Netflix series as created, written, and directed by Zaillian, has a different approach to the story. Flynn recalls being initially concerned about the love for the film when he met with Zaillian, especially having not read the novel at the time, but was quickly put at ease.

“It’s a very different tone to the film,” Flynn says. “Which is great because it’s its own thing. In film adaptations they usually have to conflate things and create extra characters to tell part of the story that don’t work unless you have a whole novel to do so. [In the film], they wanted the characters to live together for a lot longer, which made them more interesting. But the brilliance of the book is that Dickie gets killed quite early on and then the jeopardy is that Tom is being tracked and you don’t know if he’s going to be found out. Steve wanted to do something that was true to that aspect of the book in terms of the structure of the story.”

The series, filmed on location around Italy, including in Atrani, Rome, and Capri, and in New York City, was shot entirely in film noir-style black and white. It’s intended to pay homage to the cinema of the novel’s time period, a visual choice that also sets it apart from prior onscreen versions.

“If you think about the film, it’s in the summer and everything’s in bright colors,” Flynn says. “Steve wanted us to be the only people on the beach when Tom meets Dickie and Marge.”

This specificity meant that Flynn and Scott, as well as Dakota Fanning, who plays Marge, were called into rehearse scenes sometimes several months before the actual filming would take place. At first, Flynn and Scott tapped into their theater backgrounds and used the rehearsals as an opportunity to explore their characters and to try new things in the scenes. Zaillian quickly put a stop to that.

“He was like, ‘What are you doing?’” Flynn says. “The rehearsal was literally just to figure out where he was going to put the camera. We realized quite quickly that it was not for us. He knew what he wanted to do [and] he was just trying to make a final decision about which angle to shoot from. Steve had it all in his head. And that’s what makes him great. He has the whole universe of the story in his mind before he starts doing anything else and talking to people about it.”

It was a new way of working for Flynn, who deftly balances a career in theater, film and TV, and music. Before Ripley he played George Knightley in Emma and David Bowie in Stardust, an off-kilter biopic about Bowie’s first U.S. tour in 1971. He has an extensive resume on London’s West End, including productions of Jerusalem, True West, Richard III, and Twelfth Night, as does Scott. (Flynn also recently concluded a lengthy stint as Richard Burton in Sam Mendes’ The Motive and the Cue at the Noël Coward Theatre.)

“Steve knew what he wanted, but also he trusted us,” Flynn says. “The piece is framed by the writing and the way it’s shot, and that’s the storytelling device—not a generated performance. So I think the process wouldn’t have suited a lot of actors, who might have to really feel like they’re burning up and creating something new in that moment. But I realized that I could just trust the words and be in the scene and let it be without pushing too hard.”

He adds, “That need to be crazy and spontaneous and do something new and fresh is there on sets, and most projects that I’m a part of, you see actors desperately trying to come up with something new and fresh. What I learned from this is that you can take the pressure off yourself and do something interesting and very nuanced to give the camera a chance to pick up something really deep from within your soul and the subtlety of what you’re saying if you believe the words. And there’s no better actor for that than Andrew.”

The relationship between Dickie and Tom, which is complex and fraught with an undercurrent of sexual tension, and Flynn and Scott wanted to ensure there was a “sensitivity” between the characters, just as a sensitivity existed between the two actors. Flynn describes a softness to himself and Scott—“It’s odd to be talking about myself like this,” he notes—that could be translated onscreen.

“Steve wanted a tenderness that you could believe was interpreted on Tom’s part as something romantic and some kind of soul connection, but it’s a very ambiguous one,” Flynn says. “Andrew and I always said we wanted it to feel like there’s a quiet bond that you understand and that’s not explained too much. Because you’ve got to know why they’re spending that time together. For Dickie, because of where he comes from and the schools he attended, there’s a way to do things. You don’t allow your crush on another boy to actually become anything else in the society he’s part of,” he says. “The fact that Dickie won’t budge on that means there’s only one way forward for Tom. And Tom is like a shark, always moving forward.”

A significant amount of the series’ dialogue occurs in Italian. Thanks to Zaillian’s intense attention to detail, the entire cast learned to speak the language—fluently—before production. Flynn took three to four hours of Italian lessons each week (“I’ve never had anything like it,” he says). The actor did not take painting lessons to prepare for Dickie’s artistic pursuits, which are hilariously depicted in the episodes as poorly-made Picasso knock-offs. The humor of Dickie’s paintings undercut the seriousness of the visual tone, as do many of Scott’s line readings throughout the show.

“The fact that it’s funny is surprising and I loved that,” says Flynn, who remembers him and Scott laughing when they saw the prop paintings. “It’s not billing itself as a comedy. But there’s a dark humor to the books that it reflects. There’s a cruel aspect to her writing that is also very enjoyable.”

Since filming Ripley, Flynn has stayed busy. He played a violent mobster in the 2022 film The Outfit, opposite Mark Rylance, and recently appeared in the 2023 World War II drama One Life, taking on the role of real-life hero Nicholas Winton alongside Anthony Hopkins. Between filming, he’s recorded two albums with collaborator Robert Macfarlane, including last year’s The Moon Also Rises, which marked Flynn’s sixth LP. After a much-needed break, he and Macfarlane will hit the road for a U.K. tour in May.

...But for now, the actor is happy to finally lay Dickie to rest.

“When a film or a TV takes a long time to come out there’s a sense of closure when it finally does,” Flynn says. “Now, my slate is clear and there’s a nice amount of clarity around that. I can’t believe my luck to be pulled in all of these interesting directions and different experiences and different collaborations.”'

[laytonnpcbracket]

ROUND 1 POLL 71 SIDE A

About the NPCs:

Johnny Smiles is a security guard. He has a fondness for chocolate.

Otherwise known as: ユトリノ・ガードナー (Japanese); Jimmy Smiles (German); Johnny Fanfare (Spanish); Thibault Gaus (French); Johnny Smile (Italian)

Silky is a member of the Family. However, he does not enjoy harming civilians.

Otherwise known as: ベモウ (Japanese); Abelin (German); George (Spanish); Charles (French, Italian)

[homeahoy]

The Thing with The French

Warnings:Swearing

A Discovery of Blood- Chapter 2

Their introduction to British men who made up the S.A.S had been an interesting one.  They had been inspected by a man named Paddy Mayne. A man who looked wild, angry, untamable. There was something else, Augustin had smelt it and saw it when Paddy had drawn close to him quoting some T.S Elliot to him, no doubt having heard that Augustin was a poet and philosopher himself. The scent was the unmistakable scent of sadness, the kind that was all consuming. It reeked from every pore of the man, thick and cloying.  Augustin knew then despite the man’s posturing and comment that people had remarked that they were the similar, a remark that made the taller of the two men smirk and think if only you knew, that he wasn’t one to fear, not yet anyway.  Berge and Zirnheld had escaped the comments, instead this Mayne character turned his attention elsewhere. Clearly they had passed some kind of mark, even if they would be held in disregard, and were welcomed in. Not that the trio really needed to be welcomed in, since this was no home. 

Then came the incident with the gun which could have gone one of two ways. Paddy shooting Augustin and the truth coming out as he healed or Augustin turning the Irishman or at least drinking him dry.  The whole thing had drawn Augustin to Paddy, it was a weird sort of attraction. One that drove him crazy just like the words that spilled from the man’s mouth.  Georges had taken great delight in Augustin’s discomfort. Constantly laughing when Augustin took the bait and lost his temper.  Georges was just happy to see that someone had some sort of effect on his countryman, he was pretty sure though that there was something else that caused such reactions, attraction maybe? Andre however had managed to keep his head down, impressing the Englishmen with his prowess when it came to practising the jumps which wasn’t just down to his vampiric abilities but the fact he was one of the few who had actually jumped out of a plane on more than one occasion. 

Their thirst however had started to become a problem, it was harder to hunt for willing victims or familiars in the middle of the desert and their current situation saw that they couldn’t feed from the other men in camp without everyone finding out. This was also a two scenario playout, they would be caught and have to admit what was going on and risk being killed or they fed on someone willing to share their blood with them, making them lethargic and possibly putting them into a situation where others could be killed due to the donor being out of it on duty or a mission. They had come up with a plan which involved them sneaking out to the nearest encampment in the middle of the night, feeding and returning before morning. Something made easier by their superhuman speed. They had almost been caught once by the baby of the SAS Johnny Cooper who had spotted them walking round the back of the camp when he was on duty but the casual remark of them going to the toilet had seen them in the clear.  A jolly as the British liked to call it had seen it all come tumbling out.  It had been an attack on an Italian air field to the west.  Zirnheld had lost control and began to feed, the sight and smell of blood and a hunger that had not been quenched for a couple of weeks driving him on.  Once he had started the other two soon followed, tearing through the other men, ripping out throats, drinking their fill.  It had been the men they had been sent with, in a group that had found them.  Blood dripping from their mouths, their uniforms soaked in blood. The men who were known as Dave Kershaw, Reg Seekings and of course Paddy Mayne had stood there with their mouth’s agape in horror. Taking control Paddy had pulled them from the scene and shouted a warning that their better be a fucking explanation when they got back. The shouting had seen the frenchmen regain control and leave with their group.  Sitting in the truck with sharp eyes trained on them the whole way, they knew they would have to explain.

[brookstonalmanac]

Birthdays 2.18

Beer Birthdays

Henry Weinhard (1830)

Larry Sidor (1950)

Drew Cluley (1965)

Teri Fahrendorf (1971)

Five Favorite Birthdays

Milos Forman; film director (1932)

John Hughes; film director (1950)

Molly Ringwald; actor (1968)

Louis Comfort Tiffany; artist (1848)

Gahan Wilson; cartoonist (1930)

Famous Birthdays

Aholom Aleichem; Russian writer (1859)

Edward Arnold; actor (1890)

Hans Asperger; Austrian pediatrician (1906)

Jean Auel; writer (1936)

Robbie Bachman; rock guitarist (1953)

Andre Breton; surrealist, writer (1896)

Helen Gurley Brown; writer, magazine publisher (1922)

Jacques Cassini; French astronomer (1677)

Bill Cullen; television game show host (1920)

Len Deighton; writer (1929)

Dennis de Young; rock singer (1947)

Matt Dillon; actor (1964)

Dr. Dre; rapper (1965)

Enzo Ferrari; automaker (1898)

George "The Gipper" Gipp; college football coach (1895)

Barbara Hale; actor (1921)

Johnny Hart; cartoonist (1931)

George Kennedy; actor (1925)

Henry Leys; Flemish artist (1815)

Ernst Mach; German scientist (1838)

Mary I Tudor a.k.a. Bloody Mary; 1st queen of England (1404)

Adolphe Menjou; actor (1890)

Toni Morrison; writer (1931)

Juice Newton; pop singer (1952)

Yoko Ono; artist (1933)

Jack Palance; artist (1920)

Boris Pasternak; Russian writer (1890)

George Peabody; businessman, philanthropist (1795)

Swami Ramakrishna; Indian mystic (1836)

Greta Scacchi; actor (1960)

Cybill Shepherd; actor (1949)

Regina Spektor; singer, songwriter (1980)

Wallace Stegner; writer (1909)

Julie Strain; model, actor (1962)

John Travolta; actor (1954)

Alessandro Volta; Italian physicist (1745)

Vanna White; television game show hostess (1957)

Wendell Wilkie; politician (1892)

[arliaeien]

Fate – Victory

“The best miracles are imperceptible to the world.” – Unknown author

Arc 9: A New World

January 19, 1891 “AND THE WINNER IS…” The closing and award ceremony of the Steel Ball Run is about to start.

Arc 10: The World of the Stars and Stripes // #94

Now the closing ceremony of the Steel Ball Run has ended, Gyro and Johnny share some quality time in their hotel suite.

While Gyro starts to shoulder the aftermath of his yesterday's climactic victory, Johnny’s father tries his luck again. ...coaxing his son false promises, or showing true contrition?

Next day after the Steel Ball Run victory, Gyro and Johnny share a sexy night in their hotel suite. After a sexy night, what's best than a sexy morning? Johnny settles old scores and gets ready to have a conversation with his father.

Consequences of Valentine's disappearance unfold. Johnny and George Joestar have a talk.

Arc 11: The Whereabouts of Happiness // #95

Gyro and Johnny have a meeting with Stephen and Lucy.

Lucy opens up to Stephen about her Steel Ball Run experience. Gyro offers Johnny the reassurance he didn't know he needs.

Arc 12: On Crimes and Punishments

Nothing is more powerful than an idea whose time has come. Gyro’s victory has unpredictable aftermaths.

With Kingdom of Naples crumbling and knowing his family is (probably) safe, Gyro focuses his hopes over the reform of the Italian Penal Code.

January 1891 dies and makes way to February. Gyro and Johnny end their business in New York and get ready to hit the road again: going West.

[zooterchet]

Opposed Forces (Espionage Families of Boston)

King's Men (York Spy's Infantry):

1910s:

Lucianos:

Field Operative Name: Salvatore Luciano.

Group Foe: Calvin Coolidge.

Target: The Coolidge Fund.

Leader: Harry S. Truman.

Foes:

Alphonse Capone: Operating speakeasies for the families of politicians and police.

Johnny Torrio: Import of rum from Irish civil service Canada.

Enoch Nixon: Control of Atlantic City casinos for services retailed of beef.

1930s:

Field Operative Name: Raymond Charlebois.

Group Foe: Adolf Hitler.

Group Target: Los Angeles Water Department.

Leader: Chester Nimitz.

Foes:

Douglas MacArthur: Draft of Italians into Marine Corps under police provision of Italian Catechism Blackshirt.

John Okada: Japanese agent of Lutheran hierarchy, spying on Japanese interned to recruit for post-war Japanese Diet United States Marine Corps.

Mao Zedong: Farmer's candidate, for industrialization of Japan's lagers and logging trade, as imbued term in English, to enslave Chinese people under Black Papacy; Russian Mafia.

1960s:

Field Operative Name: Michael Charlebois.

Group Foe: Dwight Eisenhower.

Group Target: German Sheriffs.

Leader: Lee Iakoka.

Foes:

Richard Milhouse Nixon: Incarceration at clause of military penal service, in Vatican Church Mafia.

Charles Manson: Print of writ and writing, at free sum, or else castrated, amputed of toe, and placed in prison on bipolar medication, in Attica, Alcatraz, or San Quentin.

Hunter S. Thompson: Pharmaceuticals as a recreational drug, sold to children through revised DARE program.

1990s:

Field Operative Name: David Charlebois.

Group Foe: George W. Bush.

Group Target: Kraft Cheese.

Leader: The Ayatollah Khameini.

Colin Powell: The purchase and bribe of cruises and gambling stakes, to the parents of police.

Andrew Donson: Calculations of bacon-inhibited diets, through Holocaust History teachers, at infanticide through Sheriff's act of report, of children of police mothers; for print, in Firaxis Games, as roleplayed models.

Uma Thurman: The proliferation of Gerber's Babyfood, a turkey nutrient, as well as turkey pepperoni and turkey clam cakes; to infirm the mind, especially of children, to spawn "Eric Cartman", for South Park Studios; a German Federal Republic Rabbi, holding the Rabbinical, and their victims, the Jews, as the same scruple.

[travelingtheusa]

NORTH CAROLINA

2023 Oct 11 (Wed) – The bedroom slide needed fixing (again) so Paul spent the morning working on that.  We went out for lunch to the Moose Café.  The meatloaf was excellent.  Dropped a card off at the post office for Brenda & Rick.  They left the caravan a few days ago because Brenda’s sister, Marsha, was experiencing shortness of breath and due to visit the cardiologist.  She discovered she was suffering heart failure so they drove home to be with her.  They arrived to find Marsha in the hospital in good spirits.  The medication and treatments were doing her good.  The doctor said there was extensive damage and Marsha needed either a pace maker or catheterization.  During the procedure, her heart stopped.  They revived her but her heart was weak and she died later in the day.  At least Brenda got home in time to say goodbye.  I had the group sign a card and sent it off.  I also sent flowers to Linda.  Johnny & Linda were our tail gunners on the Alaska caravan.  Linda fell and broke her foot/ankle/leg.  It is a serious break and will take weeks to recover.

      We invited Gina & Tony to join us for dinner.  We went back to the Moose Café because our lunch had been so good.  This time, the meal was not as good.  Oh, well.  We spent the time together giving them advice on running a caravan.  They will be leading the Canadian Maritimes next year.  Hopefully, they learned some things from us.  We gave them our travel guide from our trip to the Maritimes in 2016, our Utah caravan in 2019, and the memory book for Canada.

2023 Oct 10 (Tue) – We carpooled to the Biltmore Estate this morning.  We were going to ride with Beth & Marlin but John asked us to be tail gunners for the group so we took our truck.  There was some confusion about where to park.  Once we got parked, we had to take a trolley to the house.  The crowds there were unbelievable.  We immediately were reminded of Disney World during spring vacation.  We all formed up in front of the house but held, waiting for Donna to get back from the parking lot (her husband had to be dropped off; he had a broken back and cannot walk) after dropping her husband off.  After about 30 minutes, we got pictures taken.  While waiting, John asked me to tell a joke.  I told 3.  Paul took the group shot and we all split up to tour the grounds.

      There was the house with 250 rooms and 43 bathrooms.  The fourth floor had 21 rooms for maids.  The size of this place was ridiculous.  George Vanderbilt built the “country estate” as a retreat for his friends and family to get away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.  It sits on 8,000 acres (now a national historical landmark) and has the house, a gardens, a winery, a village with restaurants and shops, a trail ride for horses, and a special display called Italian Renaissance.

      We got on line for the house.  The line wound slowly through 3 floors and the basement.  Everyone was given a hand held device to use for a self-guided tour.  As you came to each room, there was a corresponding number posted that you entered in the audio device.  Then you could hear something about that room.  It took about 45 minutes to go through the whole house; and we never saw the 4th or 5th floors.

      When finished touring the house, we drove to Antler Hill Village & Winery.  There was a long line winding around to get in for a free wine tasting.  We did not do that but did buy 2 wine glasses in the shop.  Then we went into the Village Social Restaurant for lunch.  They were not serving lunch today.  So we went next door to the Bistro, but they wouldn’t open until 4:30 p.m.  We found a small café next to the reception area for the hotel.  There was a small but eclectic menu. 

      After lunch, we stopped in the Christmas shop and bought an ornament.  It was interesting to learn that 1.5 million people visit the Biltmore Estate every year.  The estate is still family owned by the great grandchildren of Vanderbilt. They have certainly turned it into a business.

2023 Oct 9 (Mon – Columbus Day) – We were in group 4 this morning and did not leave until 12:30 p.m.  That is so unusual for us.  We were basically ready by 10 a.m. and just sat around waiting for our turn to leave.  The tail gunner came around with a route change but we decided to take the route we planned on yesterday.  The first 12 miles wound around mountain curves then straightened out and was a 4-lane highway.  Bear Creek RV Park in Asheville, NC, was less than 50 miles.

      There was a bit of a jam-up when we arrived at the campground.  RVs were lined up as they tried to back into their sites and/or unhook their tows.  We finally got backed into our campsite.  An hour later, we were carpooling to town for a trolley tour of Asheville.  There wasn’t a whole lot on the tour that I found interesting. 

      When we got back from the trolley tour, Diane (who rode with us), Joe & Diane, and Carl & Shirley decided to go for dinner.  The trolley driver suggested the Tupelo Honey Southern Kitchen & Bar.  They had no room inside so we sat out on the patio at a picnic table.  The food was good; the margaritas not so much.  It was an 8/10 walk to the restaurant and only 6/10 of a mile back. Over the same route – how was that possible?

2023 Oct 8 (Sun) – We spent the morning working on various things.  At 3 pm, Joe & Dian came over and we discussed the Whiskey & Water caravan we will be running next year. 

       The caravan planned a happy hour and travel meeting at 5 followed by a chicken dinner with us bringing the sides.  I had to cook the potatoes, then bring them in a crockpot to sit for an hour.  As has been on this caravan, the travel meeting was confusing.  Then we had dinner.  After dinner, a storyteller came in and talked about the mountains and Cherokee history.  He was quite the character – white, overgrown hair and beard, with bad teeth, and wearing a medicine bag around his neck.  When he was done, the owner of the campground (a Cherokee) told us of his history, his service in the military, his subsequent treatment for PTSD, and his work on the campground.

2023 Oct 7 (Sat) – We drove to Taylors, SC today to visit with Travis and his family.  We met them at their house, then drove to a nearby park for a picnic.  Noah rode with us (we only had one seat available) while the rest of them stopped to pick up something for lunch.  When we got to the park, there were five bouncy houses with various tables set up around the end of the park.  There was some kind of fund raiser going on.  We bought wrist bands for two boys and Paul (there had to be an adult in the group).  Noah, as it turned out, was not really interested in the bounces and spent most of his time riding around the park on his bicycle.  After playing for a while, we drove to an ice cream parlor for ice creams all around.  Then we left and drove 2 hours back to the campground.  It was a nice visit.  Glad I happened to check the map and found they were within 100 miles of us.

2023 Oct 6 (Fri) – Paul & I drove to Fontana Dam this morning.  It is a beautiful dam at 430 ft tall.  The dam creates Fontana Lake/River.  We parked at the visitor center and walked half-way across the dam.  There is some kind of construction going on but we couldn’t tell for what.  Then we went into the visitor center and learned all about the dam.

      After the dam tour, we drove to the Tail of the Dragon.  This is a section of US126 that has 318 curves in an 11 miles stretch.  It was like riding a roller coaster with lots of turns and curves; some quite steep.  Luckily, I did not get sick.  At the beginning of the Dragon there is a motorcycle resort with a bar (of course), gift shops (always), and a café.  There were tons of motorcycles parked in the resort.  Buildings that had been built for the workers in 1940 have been turned into facilities for guests.  Loads of people were wondering around the place, which spanned the roadway.  People were crossing back and forth across the road.  We did, too.  Parked on one side and walked across to the other for lunch. 

      Following lunch, we extricated ourselves from the tiny parking lot full of cars and bikes, then drove the Dragon.  The tail actually started at a fence line between North Carolina and Tennessee.  The route was in Tennessee.  I never saw so many expensive race cars in all my born days.  There were Porsches, Thunderbirds, Mustangs, Firebirds, etc.  All the thrill seekers were out in full force, racing along the 11-mile stretch of road with its 318 curves.  There were photographers parked at several curves taking pictures of the cars and bikes as they rounded corners and sped to the next one.  We kept pulling over to the side to let them pass us on the 2-lane road.  We not only drove into the Dragon, we drove back again.  There was no other road to take back to the campground.

      We stopped at Ingles Supermarket on the way back to get some groceries.  Sheba was happy to see us.  It was dinner time.  We brought our chairs to happy hour but it started raining shortly thereafter so the socializing was cut short.

2023 Oct 5 (Thu) – Paul and I drove to Great Smoky Mountains National Park.  His back is still hurting him.  He put on a back brace, which seems to make him feel a little better but he’s still sensitive to any movements that cause his back to spasm.  We stopped at the visitor center then walked down the riverwalk trail for about a half mile.  We looked over the river then turned back.  Climbing back into the truck, we drove further into the park.  There were people everywhere!  We drove to Clingman’s Dome but had to turn around because we couldn’t find anywhere to park.  Driving further into the park, we stopped at Smokemont campground to hike a trail there.  We got about a mile into the trail then turned back.  We wanted to see a waterfalls but the map didn’t say anything about a falls.  In addition, we forgot to bring a back pack with water. 

      At 5 p.m. we went out for happy hour.  At 5:30 p.m. the wagon master brought in salad and pizzas.  We went to the rec center and had a meal.  They put mushrooms on every pizza!  Even though I picked it off, the mushrooms still left a taste on the pizza.  Ugh!

2023 Oct 4 (Wed) – The group drove to Bryson City for a ride on the Great Smoky Mountains Railroad.  It was a steam engine pulling many, many cars along a 44 mile track for a 5-hour ride down the track and back.  We were supposed to have an open air car but wound up in a dining car seated at 2 and 4-person tables.  The meal was lack luster and the ride was a long boring and very slow ride down the track and back.  The countryside is covered with kudzu, an invasive species of vine.  We started out joking that it was a kudzu tour but it soon became apparent the vine covers acres and acres of countryside and blanketed trees along the tracks.

      Back in the 1920s, the railroad was looking for something to hold embankments back and stop erosion.  They had been using crushed vehicles piled on one another.  So they imported kudzu from Japan because it has very deep roots (up to 12 feet).  It’s hardiness proved to be a bad thing as the vine went on to cover everything in the area.  Trees, bushes, etc. were covered so thoroughly that the kudzu killed the flora and fauna near it.  So, 30 years later, they decided to bring in the Japanese beetle, a natural predator of kudzu.  Unfortunately, the beetle did not like the North Carolina kudzu version, but they did take to the southern white pine and have decimated the tree.  Now, they are looking at importing the natural predator of the Japanese beetle.  The docent on the train said we would have to come back in 15 to 20 years to see what new damage will be caused by this introduction.

      At happy hour tonight, we played a game of beanbag baseball.  The wagon master got really into the game, claiming people who overstepped the home plate when they threw the bag should be disqualified.  Then he wanted to name our team the Red Barons.  There was no enthusiasm for that.  When our team won, he insisted everyone get up and pose for pictures either forming a “W” for winner or “L” for loser.  It seemed very mean spirited. If we were playing for a championship or for prize money, that might spur us to be blood thirsty competitors. But the game was intended to be just for fun.

2023 Oct 3 (Tue) – We packed up and left Cleveland, GA at 9:30 a.m.  There were initially 2 rigs with us.  The third was staying at a nearby campground because they were too large to fit in this campground.  They caught up with us a little more than half-way here and we pulled into the Happy Holidays RV Campground in Cherokee around 11:45 a.m.  The campground is in the Cherokee Reservation.  Lots of businesses in town have names with Indian leavings – Broken Arrow, Golden Eagle, etc.

      When we arrived at the campground, the Wagon Master, John, met us at the entrance.  The campground staff led us to our campsite in their golf carts.  Unfortunately, they tried to park us in a site that we couldn’t get into.  There was a pole at the edge of the campsite that we couldn’t maneuver around.  After 15 minutes, they found another campsite for us.  Unfortunately, again, the site was not long enough to fit our rig and truck.  Paul had to park way down the other end of the campground.  We’ll have to get someone to give us a ride to go pick the truck up when we want to go somewhere.  Very unhappy.  ☹

      After we got set up, we took our wash to the laundromat in the campground.  When that was done, we brought it back to the camper and put the clothes away.  Paul has a pinched nerve in his back.  He bent over to look under the table yesterday and experienced instant pain.  So, we put him on a TENS machine this afternoon followed by Biofreeze and a heating pad.  We did not go to happy hour and our friends brought us back tacos for dinner.  Hope he’s feeling better tomorrow.

[honeyleesblog]

July 8 ZODIAC

Horoscope and character for those brought into the world on July 8 In spite of their enthusiastic nature, they are thoughtful and compromised in their attitude, making others try not to go against them. Be that as it may, they will stand firm against their foes and conquer hindrances throughout everyday life. Removed individuals, unreasonably delicate: they need compassion and companionship around them. They cautiously select companions that they can feel together later. It ought to be added that they are exceptionally scrupulous and unobtrusively stress over everything connected with their companions. They express a critical protective/maternal nature and are eager to assist youngsters in a difficult situation. They frequently change their place of home and their situation throughout everyday life. In any case, they can't be called conflicting as they by and large do all that they plan. They ably organize activities and execute them. They never start any business without appropriate planning. They are cautious, they are frequently excessively cautious and unsurprising, which is most apparent when they are off-base or in conflict with the law. They are very honorable in conduct, enamored with showing some significance. They ought to endeavor to control their erotic nature and dispose of their defects, like extreme responsiveness and rashness. Marriage could bring them popularity. They are prepared for battles, battles and risks throughout everyday life. In the end they will accomplish triumph and win over their most obviously terrible adversaries. They are fruitful in callings connected with a more extensive crowd, liquid, and by and large water.

July 8 ZODIAC 

 On the off chance that your birthday is July 8, your zodiac sign is Disease July 8 - character and character character: committed, respectable, practical, off-kilter, shaky, perky calling: musician, stylist, shoemaker tones: cream, silver, red stone: beryl creature: bison plant: rosemary fortunate numbers: 7,17,39,47,51,57 very fortunate number: 17 Occasions and observances - July 8 Hadrian of Nicomedia Holy person Kilian (640-689, minister), Holy person Colmდ¡n and Holy person Totnano. Holy person Edgar the Pacific Interpretation of Holy person Barbara (saint) Holy person Eugene III Holy person Evodius of Antioch Holy person Procopius of Caesarea St Nick Sunniva Holy person Tybalt of Marly San Quintდ­n (conceivable mistake, since the celebration is October 31) July 8 Big name Birthday. Who was conceived that very day as you? 1900: George Antheil, American piano player and author (d. 1959). 1901: Carmen Martდ­nez Sancho, Spanish mathematician and instructor (f. 1995) 1904: Henri Cartan, French mathematician (f. 2008). 1906: Philip Johnson, American modeler (d. 2005). 1907: George Romney, American money manager (d. 1995). 1908: Louis Jordan, American saxophonist and vocalist (d. 1975). 1908: Nelson Rockefeller, American lawmaker (d. 1979). 1909: Josდ© Santiago Crespo, Spanish cleric (d. 1978). 1913? Alejandra Soler Gilabert, Spanish conservative instructor (d. 2017) 1914: Jyoti Basu, Indian lawmaker (d. 2010). 1914: Billy Eckstine, American jazz vocalist (d. 1993). 1919: Walter Scheel, German lawmaker (d. 2016). 1921: Edgar Morin, French savant and social scientist. 1922: Mariano Medina, Spanish meteorologist (d. 1994). 1923: Manuel Alvar, Spanish philologist (f. 2001). 1923 - Harrison Dillard, American competitor. 1923: Antonio Herrero Losada, Spanish writer (f. 2001). 1924: Johnnie Johnson, American blues performer and musician (d. 2005). 1924: Anton Schwarzkopf, German specialist (d. 2001). 1925: Marco Cდ©, Italian cardinal (d. 2014). 1925: Alina Surmacka Szczesniak, American food science expert of Clean beginning (d. 2016) 1926: Elisabeth Kდ¼bler-Ross, American therapist of Swiss beginning (d. 2004). 1926: Juanito Navarro, Spanish entertainer (d. 2011). 1927: Willy De Clercq, Belgian legislator and MEP (d. 2011). 1928: David Brockhoff, Australian rugby player (d. 2011). 1928: დ?ngel Tulio Zof, Argentine soccer mentor (f. 2014). 1930: Jerry Vale, American vocalist and entertainer (d. 2014). 1932: Franca Raimondi, Italian vocalist (d. 1988). 1934: Raquel Correa, Chilean writer (d. 2012). 1934: Marty Feldman, English author, jokester and entertainer (d. 1982). 1937: Hდ©ctor Noguera, Chilean film, theater and TV entertainer. 1937: Enrique Zapata Ponce, Mexican painter and etcher. 1943: Ricardo Pavoni, Uruguayan soccer player. 1944: Jeffrey Tambor, American entertainer. 1945: Micheline Calmy-Rey, Swiss legislator. 1947: Luis Fernando Figari, Peruvian Catholic layman. 1950: Pedro Miguel Echenique, Spanish researcher. 1951: Anjelica Huston, American entertainer. 1952: Jack Lambert, American football player. 1952: Nacho Martდ­nez, Spanish entertainer (f. 1996). 1953: Eberhard Bosslet, German craftsman living in the Canary Islands. 1956: Jean-Renდ© Bernaudeau, French cyclist. 1956: Carlos Herrera, Spanish writer. 1957: Carlos Cavazo, Mexican-American guitarist. 1958: Kevin Bacon, American entertainer. 1959: Robert Knepper, American entertainer. 1961: Andrew Fletcher, English keyboardist, of the band Depeche Mode. 1962: Joan Osborne, American vocalist. 1966: Suzanne Krull, American entertainer, screenwriter and maker. 1967: Kaho Koda, Japanese voice entertainer. 1968: Michael Weatherly, American entertainer. 1968: Billy Crudup, American entertainer. 1969: George Fisher, American performer, of the band Man-eater Body. 1969: Mariano Roger, Argentine guitarist, of the Babasდ³nicos band. 1970: Beck, American performer. 1970: Seu Jorge, Brazilian performer, writer and entertainer. 1973: Kathleen Robertson, Canadian entertainer. 1974: Zhanna Friske, Russian vocalist and entertainer. 1976: Talal El Karkouri, Moroccan footballer. 1976: David Kennedy, American performer. 1976: Grettell Valdez, Mexican entertainer. 1977: Canco Rodrდ­guez, Spanish entertainer. 1977: Milo Ventimiglia, American entertainer. 1979: Expressway, American rapper. 1980: Robbie Keane, Irish footballer. 1981: Anastasia Myskina, Russian tennis player. 1982: Sophia Shrub, American entertainer. 1982: Hakim Warrick, American b-ball player. 1983: Salustiano Candia, Paraguayan soccer player. 1983: Dani Navarro, Spanish cyclist. 1985: Jamie Cook, American guitarist, of the band Cold Monkeys. 1986: Jaime Garcდ­a, Mexican baseball player. 1988: Miki Roquდ©, Spanish footballer (f. 2012). 1990: Nicolდ¡s Colazo, Argentine footballer. 1990: Kevin Trapp, German footballer. 1991: Jamie Blackley, English entertainer 1992: Heung Min Child, Korean footballer. 1998: Jaden Smith, American entertainer and artist, child of entertainer Will Smith.

[tvguidancecounselor]

TV Guidance Counselor Episode 571: Rob Hill

February 15-21, 1986

This week Ken travels across the Atlantic as he welcomes author and YouTube ninja, the man behind The Bad Movie Bible, Rob Hill.

Ken and Rob discuss Ken's fandom, Rob's YouTube channel, lockdown driven creativity, Murder She Wrote, Rob's thinking around his issue, embracing nostalgia, context and intent, South Park, Michael McIntyre, loving American Culture, traveling to America once as a kid, Punky Brewster, how adult US action shows were children's show in the UK, The TV Times, BBC, M*A*S*H, Dallas, UK soaps vs US Nighttime soaps, how the TV Times had no cigarette ads, TV News revealing too many government secrets, taking digs at your star, Cheers, shows about alcoholics, Mr. T vs George Peppard, 2 Live Crew's Me So Horny, being the king of the UK, Ken always looking on the bright side, Benson, Soap's popularity in the UK, David Rappaport's week, Dave DeCoteau's filmography, TV guest stars, sexing up Buck Rogers, Battlestar Gallactica, US TV movies being theatrical movies in the UK and Europe, really trying to mine the concept of a dead porn star ghost despite it failing again and again, Amazing Stories, Joe Dante, The Last Days of Frank and Jesse James, Robert Guillaume in Phantom of the Opera, Johnny Cash, Charlie Daniels, your wife playing your mother, Operation Kid Brother, Robin Hood, George C. Scott talking about abortion on ABC, Kirk Cameron, Listen to Me, Knight Rider, shows where people are reincarnated as machines or animals, Metal Micky, Airwolf, M.A.N.T.I.S., satellite TV, watching six hours of Dallas a day, After the Fall of New York, Italian B movies, Ceefax, Highway to Heaven, Benny Hill, Blacke's Magic, The Captain American musical, Danger Mouse, All Creatures Great and Small, Chuck Norris, Matt Helm, Way of the Dragon, The Misfits of Science, Baywatch and the incredible, unbelievable nature of David Hassellhoff's autobiography. 

Check out this episode!

[olafsings]

Music History Today: February 23, 2023

February 23, 1685: George Frideric Handel was born in Germany. In 1705, he made his debut as an opera composer with Almira. He produced several operas with the Royal Academy of Music in England before forming the New Royal Academy of Music in 1727. When Italian operas fell out of fashion, he started composing oratorios, including his most famous, Messiah.

The album Handel's Messiah: A Soulful Celebration won the 1992 Grammy for Best Contemporary Soul Gospel Album. Produced by Quincy Jones, featured artists included Patti Austin, Andraé Crouch, Sandra Crouch, Edwin Hawkins, Tramaine Hawkins, Al Jarreau, Chaka Khan, Gladys Knight, Johnny Mathis, Marilyn McCoo, Stephanie Mills, and Jeffrey Osborne.

[latestinbollywood]

Victor Mature Cause Of Death, Parents, Career, Education, Family, Net Worth And More

Victor Mature Cause Of Death:- A leading man in Hollywood throughout the 1940s and 1950s, Victor John Mature was an American theatre, film, and television actor. His most well-known movie performances can be found in One Million B.C., My Darling Clementine, Kiss of Death, Samson and Delilah, and The Robe. Alongside celebrities like Rita Hayworth and Betty Grable, he also made numerous musical appearances.

Victor Mature Cause Of Death

Victor Mature passed away on Wednesday in San Diego County, California. Hebecame famous for his role in movies while wearing a woolly mammoth loincloth. The Motion Picture Almanac stated that he was 86 years old, whereas other encyclopaedias stated that he was 83 or 84. Zollie Volchok, a friend, claimed that he passed away from cancer. In the 1940 film that launched his career as a star, "Tumak," Mr. Mature appeared bare chested and bare-armed while wearing loincloths, togas, and leotards.

victor mature death

Parents

The birthplace of Mature is Louisville, Kentucky. His father was a cutler and knife sharpener from Pinzolo, in the Italian portion of the former County of Tyrol. His name was Marcello Gelindo Maturi, later Marcellus George Mature (now Trentino in Italy, but at that time part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire). His mother, Clara P, was of Swiss descent and was a native of Kentucky. At the age of 11, Marcellus Paul Mature, an older brother, passed away from osteomyelitis in 1918. His lone sibling, Isabelle, was born and passed away in 1906.

victor mature parents

Education

Victor studied at the Spencerian Business School, the Kentucky Military Institute, and St. Xavier High School in Louisville, Kentucky. He temporarily opened a café and sold confectionery before relocating to California. At the Pasadena Community Playhouse, Mature studied acting and performed. He resided in a tent in the backyard of Catherine Lewis' classmate Mrs. Willigan for three years.

victor mature education

Career

One reviewer referred to Mature as "a gorgeous Tarzan type" for the minor role he had in The Housekeeper's Daughter. Then, in One Million B.C., Roach handed Mature his first leading part as a fur-clad caveman. Hedda Hopper described Mature as "a sort of miniature Johnny Weissmuller"; the film received extensive publicity and helped to elevate Mature's fame. Roach then cast him as Captain Caution in a swashbuckling novel set during the War of 1812. Hal Roach, who only produced a few number of films each year, lent out Mature's services to RKO, who utilised him as the leading man in the musical No, No, Nanette starring Anna Neagle and Herbert Wilcox. The studio executives were so delighted with his performance that they purchased an option to assume Hal Roach's portion of Mature's contract, allowing them to utilise his talents for two films annually for three years.

victor mature career

Net Worth

Victor Mature On January 29, 1913, an American actor was born. When he passed away, he was 86 years old. According to sources, Victor Mature's net worth was $1.5 million. INSTAGRAM Read Also: Mufti Abdul Gani Azhari Biography Read the full article