Aggravation (144) Anxiety (94) April Fool (1) Bitchiness (65) Bobby (86) BP (7) Burning in Hell (36) Bush (66) Calme au Blanc (13) Catholic Church (33) Charlotte Cushman (11) Cobalt Blue (26) Confusion (11) Crime (22) Daily Life (145) Dangling Conversations (48) Deep Thoughts (51) Depravity (29) Depression (47) Divertissement (15) Embarrassing Moments (17) Family (44) Friends (110) Frozen (15) Fun (60) Gay (67) Gertrude Stein and a Companion (19) Glass Menagerie (34) Good Things (73) Government (58) Gustav (16) Hate (20) Holidays (36) Hope (38) Hugging the Shoulder (6) Humid City (9) Humor (158) Hurricanes (3) Internets (8) Jesus (5) Justice (6) Katrina (119) Latrine (15) Life in the Quarter (353) Louisiana (12) Mardi Gras (86) Mark Rylance (1) Movie Stars (36) Music (22) Nagin (20) New Orleans (126) News (28) Nighthawks (29) NOLA Partee (1) Obits (12) Our-Leaders-in-Their-Wisdom (111) Outlaw City (126) Personal (406) Photography (532) Pity Post (11) Politics (79) R I P (12) Religion (20) Retirement (11) Righteous Shit (24) Sadness (37) Saints (19) Search-Engine Crap (20) Sex (34) Sick Humor (61) Silly Stuff (152) Southern Decadence (22) Striking Words (23) Stupid Shit (217) Take Me Out (41) Tattoos (18) Tennessee Williams (65) The End (1) The Human Comedy (15) Theatre (510) Thinking Blogger Award (1) Thrill Me (37) Treme (7) Valhalla (42) War (28) Weekly Photo Challenge (41) Weird Shit (9)
Monday, February 29, 2016
Nevertheless, I do have a few observations about the state of the art of the motion picture arts and sciences as illustrated by last night’s sticky love fest.
First of all, Eddie Redmayne is far and away the most beautiful woman in Hollywood. Suck it up, Charlize. Tempus fugit. You’re pushing forty-one. Here’s your walker, dear.
Bless his heart, Leonardo DiCaprio finally got the Oscar for that movie he made about Gilbert Grape. ‘Bout time. Not that I intend to see his current flick. There’s nothing more boring than watching an actor suffer for his art instead of acting for it.
Which brings me to Spotlight, the movie that won best picture, and the only movie I actually saw—suffered through—like, Saturday night. I wasn’t too impressed, and that’s going some cause I’ve always had a thing for Ruffalo. The movie made one thing clear, though. You don’t ever want to act with children, pets, or Stanley Tucci. They’re all gonna steal whatever scene they’re in. Tucci did it to Streep in that movie about Julia Child. What chance did any of those guys or that girl stand in this flick? Jeez, the Stan-man never even stooped to look anyone in the eye. They were not worthy.
And, finally, I kind of feel sorry for the girl that won the Best Actress award. We’re never going to see her again. Hey, at least, the kid in her movie is gonna get to grow up!
That’s about it for me. Like I said, I didn’t catch the whole show. I hope you had a pleasant night.
Sunday, January 17, 2016
We really need to start thinking of starting this baby up around Thanksgiving. There are even some who think we should look at Labor Day.
The harvest story is pretty much the same for all the other growers down here. There’s talk beginning to swell that we should get together to ask the governor to declare a state of emergency and to petition the Feds for assistance from FEMA.
Me, I’m not too sure about bringing that outfit into the picture. I still remember how not so helpful they were after “Kat” and “Rita.”
But a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do. You ladies, too.
Otherwise how’re we going to feed the little ones if this industry dries up?