Jeffrey Wells

Friendo to HE: “If I buy you this shirt, will you wear it in Cannes?”

HE to friendo: “Absolutely! But I’d have to wear the jacket also.”

Seriously…if WB is selling the pink Barbie jacket in a men’s size I’ll snap it up in a second.

There’s absolutely no need or interest in another Magnificent Seven…zero. We’ve already had three — Akira Kurosawa‘s Seven Samurai (“54), John Sturges‘ The Magnificent Seven (’60) and Antoine Fuqua‘s mediocre remake of a remake from 2016. You know what I’d like to see remade? Howard Hawks‘ Red River (’46).

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A young woman who addresses perfect cosmic unity and infinite design, regarded in certain primitive circles as “God”…let me start again. Anyone who addresses the grand altogether as some sort of nice fella or…whatever, as an all-pervasive, all-powerful emotional counselor with a kindly personality and the will to listen to and empathize with the plight of earthly humans…c’mon, man. That’s YA stuff.

In 1964 Alfred Hitchcock regarded this picturesque Baltimore seaport neighborhood as grim and down-at-the-heels. This is where Louise Latham’s Bernice, the emotionally constipated, man-hating mother of Tippi Hedren’s lead character, resided. By today’s standards, of course, it’s a prime location — red-brick row houses, great harbor view, sea air, cool cafes.

Yesterday some Facebook entity representing Joni Mitchell posted an attractive photo of the fabled singer-poet, taken in ‘83. The comments were adoring but shamelessly so — a torrent of rapt, falsetto-voiced religious worship. I tried to point this out, and of course my remarks drew scorn.

“Past Mitchell Capturings,” posted on 7.20.19:.

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Sam Spade to Brigid O’Shaughnessy: “Don’t be silly. You’re taking the fall.”

Ever thus to trans ideologues! Bud Light marketing vp Alissa Heinerscheid has paid the price for her terrible woke folly.

There are many HE commenters who called the Bud Light / Dylan Mulvaney thing a tempest in a teapot. They are now anxiously in search of tall grass. If they were men they would admit their error, but of course they won’t. Three of them are named below — one of them is Pete Miesel.

Here’s the latest Jeff–and–Sasha Substack…have at it.

Once again, the link..

What more is there to learn or say about the poor guy? I can’t imagine what new wrinkles have yet to be considered…seriously. Even when I was a kid I knew Hudson was closeted. I had a surreal dream about him when I was 12 or 13, and I just knew.

In the vicinity of the Colisseum, street peddlers have been selling this Roma Antica map to the tourists for decades. I bought mine (tightly rolled and shrink-wrapped) in ‘07, and for a good 15 years it hung on my dining room wall, mounted and framed.

I am eternally of this ancient city, or so I’ve always believed in my bones (or at least in my dreams). I actually lived there, I’m fairly certain, in one of my past lives. And what a comedown my lives have been ever since.

“So as through a glass, and darkly / the age-long strife I see / Where I’ve written and travelled in many guises, many names / But always me”

Dumbest, funniest MAGA moron fantasy, etc. Straight or satirical…doesn’t matter.