#stolen from Facebook

[captain-price-unofficially]

Ouuuughhhhhh

Holy shit.

[moniquill]

[saberamane]

[flight-to-mars]

[khajiithaswitchywares]

[hyenabeanz]

[thatonegaytrekfan]

[invisiblebard]

In the clothes’ defense, I would also go into the big sock

[anderswasrightt]

[narcolepticgnome]

[darth-jess]

I still played with Barbies, but I had one that was Padmé and one that was Anakin, and all the other ones were other Star Wars characters.

[captain-price-unofficially]

[worldwaronehat]

[kinsey3furry300]

*looks at camera*

[flight-to-mars]

James Whale and Boris Karloff taking a smoke break during production of Frankenstein (1931).

[victusinveritas]

Hollywood's quirkiest friendship blossomed between Groucho Marx and Alice Cooper, an unlikely pair who met during a Frank Sinatra birthday bash while performing "Lydia the Tattooed Lady." Their bond solidified in Beverly Hills, where Groucho’s insomnia led to midnight rendezvous with Cooper.

Cooper recalls the late-night hangouts with a grin:

“He had a chair next to his bed with a six-pack of Budweiser, and we’d sit and watch old movies. After about two films, I’d glance over and find him in his beret, cigar in hand, fast asleep. I'd put out his cigar, turn off the lights, and head home. The next night, same routine: ‘Hey Coop, can’t sleep, come on over.’”

Groucho wasn’t just a late-night buddy; he was a showbiz icon who’d bring his friends—like George Burns, Jack Benny, and Mae West—to Cooper’s concerts. Imagine ballet dancers dressed as skeletons spotting Fred Astaire in the wings!

It was Groucho who dubbed Alice’s horror-comedy performances “vaudeville,” a label Cooper embraced wholeheartedly.

“Before that, people called it ‘shock rock’ or ‘glam rock,’” Cooper said. “When Groucho called it ‘vaudeville,’ I thought, ‘Exactly! That’s it!’”