Posts Tagged ‘smoking’

It happens

November 20, 2009

Whistling past the graveyard: it is a Thing.

Happens all the time.

PSA: It’s Friday; do what feels right!

Hot Man Bein’ Hot of the Day: Vincent Cassel

November 19, 2009

It has been way too long since we saw a hot man bein’ hot of the day around here. Vincent Cassel, take it away!

Brilliant oddball Vincent Cassel is married to a personal heroine, Monica Bellucci — ten years in August. Impressive! He is a director, actor, writer and musician. Generally he plays maniacs and bad guys (I love crazy).

He has said of his being typecast in tough guy parts, “It’s all right. I like playing baddies.” The first role in which I ever saw him was as Gilles de Rais in Luc Besson’s 1999 film The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc, which for my Catholic, action-movie-loving, Milla-Jovovich-adoring money is one of the best freakin’ movies evah.

Some fun Vincent and Monica facts from the imdb:

  • Both have been the Master of Ceremonies at the Cannes film festival: Vincent in 2006, Monica in 2003.
  • For professional reasons, Vincent lives mostly in Paris while Monica Bellucci lives mostly in London. Despite this, they have appeared in the following films together: Sheitan (2006), Agents secrets (2004), Irréversible (2002), Le pacte des loups (2001), Méditerranées (1999), Le plaisir (et ses petits tracas) (1998), Compromis (1998), Dobermann (1997), Come mi vuoi (1997) and L’appartement (1996).
  • Some of Vincent’s english-language credits from which you might recognize him include Elizabeth, Ocean’s Twelve, Ocean’s Thirteen, Eastern Promises, and the forthcoming Darren Aronofsky picture Black Swan, which will also star Natalie Portman, Mila Kunis, Winona Ryder, and Barbara Hershey (freaking awesome).

    A musician among his other many talents, Vincent performed the song “Step Da Step Krugom” in Eastern Promises. He also appeared as the voice of Monsieur Hood and sang the gay, snappy little Merry Men number in Shrek — you know, the scene in the wood where Princess Fiona kicks their asses all Matrix style.

    Final shot featuring bonus heat from one Mister Viggo Mortensen (of course) from the set of Eastern Promises:

    Daily Batman: Welcome to Bat Country — Pop. 2

    November 14, 2009

    “Fear and Loathing” sketched by artist Jay E. Fife at the Pittsburgh Comicon.

    That‘s what I’m talking about. You know? It’s like this guy is in my head. Wild.

    NSFW November: Joni Mattis, Miss November 1960

    November 13, 2009

    The lovely and talented Joan E. Mattis, aka Joni Mattis, Playboy’s Miss November 1960, is noteworthy in the history of the magazine for several things.

    First, she was Hugh Hefner’s lover for awhile and also worked for the company for a long time (not so unusual). Not so usually, second, she refused to bare it all for her shoot. You can see from the pictures that, though she was technically nude, she kept specific ladyparts covered by a strategically placed sheet.

    During her Playboy photo session, Mattis refused to disrobe, making her (according to her) the least popular Playmate in the history of the magazine. She only received one letter in response to her pictorial, and it was from a clergyman who suggested that she find another line of work. ( the wiki)

    From the magazine’s official site:

    For nearly four decades, until her untimely death in 1999, another sweetheart of the period, November 1960 Playmate Joni Mattis, was frequently at Hef’s side.

    “Our romantic relationship didn’t last very long,” Hef says, “but the friendship did.” Joni was a talent coordinator for his first TV show, Playboy’s Penthouse, an early Playboy Club Bunny, Hef’s West Coast Secretary and, finally, Social Secretary at Mansion West.

    With her dark hair and luminous eyes, Joni looked like a porcelain doll, but she had spunk. On one occasion, she not-so-accidentally nudged a potential rival for Hef’s affections, fully clothed in a crepe cocktail dress, into the Chicago Mansion’s swimming pool. The dress immediately shrank. (“Hef’s Special Ladies: Joni Mattis.”

    Fun fact: she was a pocket rocket. 5’2″ and 85 lbs at the time of the shoot, when she was — oh, ho! Looky there. The Playboy stats sheet says, “Unfortunately, this data sheet was incomplete.” No age, ambitions, turn-ons … nothing but the pictures and the raw numbers of her measurements. The total woman of mystery. I guess it was between her and Hef, a couple of crazy Chicago kids in love and running a tasteful skin empire.

    Joan died of cancer September 4, 1999. She was only 61.

    NSFW November: Cara Zavaleta, Miss November 2004

    November 10, 2009

    Elizabeth: you pick a year, I’ll do that one today
    the Cappy: hmmmmmmmmmm
    Elizabeth: any ol’ year, I got ’em all.
    the Cappy: 2004
    Elizabeth: GREAT CHOICE!

    My friendoh the Cappy-bappy is in Baghdad waiting for a plane to Germany, so let’s all help him pass the time, shall we? From MTV’s Road Rules and the Real World and some permutations therein* to the pages of Playboy, super-cutie-patootie Cara Zavaleta is your Miss November 2004!

    *I have never seen any of those shows.

    The set dressing and conceptual design of most of the November shoots from the early 2000’s were completely lacking in any type of ingenuity. It’s like, the creative types were fired and they just brought in photoshoppers. “Just airbrush her beyond recognition and the background doesn’t matter.” Newsflash: it matters. Also, just because you have an airbrush feature in your photo editing software does not obligate you to use it. Authenticity matters!

    And so does a model who is smiling and playing a fun character. Every lady has a little girl inside her that wants to play dress up! Harkening back to the pinup style really helps a model get in to it, it seems. Playboy hit it out of the park for me with this one. This spread is a standout in the shoots from the early 2000’s and it is absolutely adorable.

    I have no clue who photographed the adorable oldtimey saloon scenes, but I know exactly who did the Women’s Air Core uniform bookworm-type ones:

    Rob Schneider! Super-cool! I’d be grinning if I was her, too! Because this was a much more recent shoot than some of the others I’ve been featuring, there are like truckloads of pictures of this in varying degrees of resolution around the internet, so many that I could not possibly do them all justice, so I’ll wind things down with a classic composition that has all the best fetishistic elements of the shoot. Masculine attire, knee socks (argyle!), book, cigar. Out. of. the. park. Well done!

    NSFW November: Betty Blue, Miss November 1956

    November 9, 2009

    The lovely and talented Betty Blue, Playboy’s Miss November 1956, has legs that don’t take coffee breaks but lungs that do stop for a smoke or two.

    Centerfold photographed by Hal Sims.

    This is the only other photo from the shoot. It’s clear from the paint-splattered sleeve that the hand offering the match in both photographs is the artist’s; also, in this shot, you can see more of the charcoal sketch of her on the easel behind her. As Mark Tomlinson has pointed out, the explicit male presence in this photo set makes them slightly uninviting, and it’s one of the last where a man makes an appearance in the picture, rather than being implicit in the photograph’s composition.

    I remember when I modeled for an art class, there was always a point where the professor called for the students to turn their easels to the centers, and I, or we, if I was working with another model, got to wrap our sheets around us and shuffle around seeing the drawings. There was this one deaf guy who consistently drew me like a mix between Xena and a ballerina. He was really generous about increasing breast size and upping my level of arm tone. Long story short, that’s how I know the sign for “thank you!”

    RIP. She was a good soul, it seems.

    Interestingly, Betty is one of the few Playmates who is a permanent resident of the Playboy family. In accordance with her wishes and at the concession of Hef, who always invited her and her husband, AVN-award-winning producer Harold Lime, to events and parties, her ashes were scattered at the grounds of the Playboy mansion in a private ceremony following her death from heart failure in 2000.

    Music Moment: The Runaways, “Cherry Bomb”

    November 7, 2009

    “Hello, Daddy, hello, Mom … ”

    The Runaways — Cherry Bomb

    PSA: A full-length movie about these original riot grrls is in the works — almost done, even. Did You Know? And as a very special segment of this PSA: All grown’z up Dakota Fanning and that frowny chick from Twilight are both in it. Kristen Stewart plays Joan fuckin’ Jett and little Miss Fanning plays Cherie Currie.

    Oh, my god, Joan Jett still looks so fucking amazingly perfect that I actually said, “Holy shit!” out loud, fervently, when I saw this picture. I would totally be standing by the record machine for you, Joanie! Call me!

    Not only that, but from both the on- and offset pictures I’ve seen, they sure do a lot of canoodling. And the rumor is that they’ve got some makeout scenes, at least one, according to the NY Daily News. That’s good, not just for ticket sales, but in terms of a movie actually being faithful to the real life events it claims to depict.

    Ladies do end up together from time to time. It happens! If you don’t believe me, slip some Valium and vodka in to the punch at the next PTA meeting. You find out p.d.q. who the down gals are.

    So, all in all, I’m giving this musicians’ biopic, a genre of which I usually am queasy and wary, an unprecedented fatty-boom-batty green light, sight unseen. Hell, yes! I actually can’t wait!

    Advice: Asia Argento, quelle surprise, NSFW umpteenth edition

    October 13, 2009

    “People think I’m a cliché. The dark lady, the bitch from Hell. All they can see is that I’m naked.” — Asia Argento

    Like so many of my favorite quotes from Ms. A, I find a solid corner on the veracity of this complaint …. problematic. (I hate what I am about to say, but…if you are troubled by the fact that all people can see is your nudity, perhaps a quick robe might help?) But where it helps me is, it forces me to analyze whether I, too, set myself up for whatever stereotypification, dislike, or victimization I receive: is it easier to seek the familiar even if what is familiar is ostracism? I still haven’t told my “why-I-must-throttle-back-on-woman-judging” story, it’s really good and speaks beautifully to this point. At this stage, with thinking of it so much yet still not setting thoughts down, I must be avoiding it on purpose. Sorry. I’ll get there.

    “I always saw myself as really ugly. My father even told me I was ugly because I would shave my head and look like a boy. It was strange for me to have to research femininity, but I found out these tricks for getting attention that I didn’t know before. It was a kind of revenge, I guess, on all the kids who said I was ugly at school.” –Asia Argento

    Bar none best and most unflinchingly honest moment from her thinly veiled autobiography and directorial debut, Scarlet Diva: shaving her pits in the bathroom while puffing a dangler. I love this woman, crazy talk and flawed logic and all, maybe even more because of it, in fact.

    Don’t sweat it: Ghostbusters edition

    October 12, 2009

    I’m sweating stuff today. I shouldn’t. Why worry, right?

    Dr Ray Stantz: You know, it just occurred to me that we really haven’t had a successful test of this equipment.
    Dr. Egon Spengler: I blame myself.
    Dr. Peter Venkman: So do I.
    Dr Ray Stantz: Well, no sense in worrying about it now.
    Dr. Peter Venkman: Why worry? Each one of us is carrying an unlicensed nuclear accelerator on his back.

    As usual, Venkman knows what’s up. My favorite part of this little elevator riding scene has almost always been the “No Smoking” sign which, of all people, Ray deliberately ignores.

    State of my state, or, what condition my condition is in

    October 8, 2009

    T-minus: one and a half days to Paolo and Miss D’s wedding. Squeeeee…..!

    Don’t imagine much sleep happening for anyone; I know I had trouble even last night. Miss D and I were comparing nightmares when we went to pick up her gown in SJ. I dreamt that she’d forgotten to buy a veil (totally impossible because I have seen her in it several times now, I even hung it up and put it in the chemical-odored garment bag that David’s had the gall to charge her for after she dropped umpteen dollars in their store). The place where the wedding is being held, Vintage Gardens, had in my dream a loaner veil. But it was stained along the bottom where it had been drug through the dyed frosting of a cake.

    Miss D was trying to make a brave go of it, saying, “Whatev’,” and, “It’ll be okay. No one will notice,” but it was totally noticeable and she had tears in her eyes. So I volunteered to nip over to the bridal store and pick up another veil real quick. Of all things, Miss D’s middle sister who is incredibly sweet and easygoing got in a fight with me about how ridiculous this idea was, and that there was no time because it was time to take pictures. This was all very vivid and I woke going, “Why is ‘Nina being so mean to me today?” then realized it had been a dream. Miss D’s observation when I related this dream to her was that we were the last two people she would predict would be in a fight, least of all over that; if nothing else, we would be verbally wrestling over who should be the martyr and go get the veil.

    Paolo’s brother Scotty kept popping on and off the yahoo! chat last night; I assume this means he flew safely out of Quatar and was either back in Vegas already somehow or was on a bad internet cafe connection in London. Either way, super-pumped to see him and meet his wife and son! Tempus sure fugits.

    Thanks to the masochism paper, I can afford to buy kidlet a really cute, fancy new dress for the wedding (she was a little put-out by the prospect of wearing her Easter dress from this Spring or combining the occasion with a dress which would cross-multiply into Thanksgiving and Christmas, which were the old options before the urgent paper dropped in my lap). I’m hoping to talk Miss D in to joining us: I remember those last few days before the wedding, and the total insanity. This is the last day before the chaos will truly descend, I suspect, and she needs a couple strong drinks and an appetizer from a chain restaurant to fortify her. Plus, we like to relieve stress by yelling at people in parking lots. We’re kind of incredible at it, not gonna lie.

    Then I got a hair appointment at 5, which will make it three times this year that I have entered a salon. Look at me, I’m practically a woman! Totally not as nerve-wracking as I used to think. And if I get a little distraught, I will take my cue from the patron saint of you-know-whos and simply grab a smoke, which is also nature’s appetite suppressant. Thanks, Audrey Hepburn. You always know what’s best.

    Music Moment: Leave your troubles — outside!

    October 7, 2009

    Advice: Leave your troubles — outside!

    Today has been kind of a big poo sandwich as it ends up. But Joel Grey and the gorgeous opening to the film version of Cabaret (love that 70’s composition aesthetic) can always make it better. My VCR is not working and I did not even bring this, one of my oldest and dearest and firstest of film purchases, with me to California on my sojourn from Oregon, but thank god for the youtube, jes?

    So. Life is disappointing? Forget it. In here? Life is beautiful. The girls are beautiful. Even the orchestra … is beautiful!

    Oh, man. So much better. (“Each and every one: a wirgin. Wh.. what? You don’t believe me? Well, do not take my word for it. Go ahead — ask Helga!”)

    I think Cabaret and Fraulein Sally Bowles et al may just have to become a Thing around here. “Divine decadence!” Totally turns one’s frown upside down.

    Gal pals: they are a Thing

    October 1, 2009

    I adore my guy friends, but I vowed recently to work harder on my special female friendships, and so far I am really loving it. And I recently had a very shocking experience that brought painfully home to me how much I need to work on this issue of judging women based on their appearances. I will get to that in a moment. Really knocked me out. Let me get to it in a proper order. This may take a few posts strung out over several days because I got a lot of dogs in the fire these next few days, stanimal. (Totally pointless Frisky Dingo reference.)

    First things first!, my breasts wanted to let you know that there is a girl named Panda Eraser and she makes things all crafty style and has a blog, and that is kind of a big deal, mmkay?

    That night was an adventure, eh, madame? By the way. Be Nice or Else. (This is legitimately one of the slogans at the not-to-be-named cosmetology school through which Panda Eraser is slogging with admirable style and elan despite their attempts to drag her down; e.g. ‘Whoa, how do you make purple? Mix red and blue? Are you serious?’ and a poster which said ‘Your Amazing’. Don’t let the turkeys grind you down, Virgo Vixen — with god, Guinness, and Ekitty as your copilot, you will triumph.)

    The morning after I took that picture, Miss D and I had a hotty boom botty date to pick out the flowers for her and Paolo’s wedding (t minus: TEN DAYS eeeek). I was reading a Lally Weymouth article in Newsweek before she pulled up, and, as I climbed in the car, after a hug and greeting, my opening salvo was, “Man, I was reading this interview with Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, and they asked him how could he deny the Holocaust. I have to say, his answers were really surprising.”

    Aren’t I just the socially smoothest? Like, “Hello and oh, I’m very excited to be part of picking the flowers for the happiest day of your and Paolo’s lives, and we just got over worrying about P’s mom’s recovery from freaking double masectomy possibly conflicting with the wedding day (surgery was postponed), and we’re taking care of thousands of details this week for this important step in the path of your life’s journey together but, hey, can I take a moment of your time to talk about Iranian holocaust deniers? That’s cool, right?” Like, way to stomp on the beautiful shiny optimism of the morning, Elizabeth.

    Thank god she is a woman of intellect as well as heart. Not missing a beat, Miss D said, “What did he say? I’m curious.” We agreed we’d only heard ignorant American perspectives on Holocaust denial, but nothing from a Middle Eastern politician. Because that is all normal ladies’ behavior of a Wednesday morning on your way to get wedding flowers. Actually, he did have interesting responses, interesting in the sense of I-had-not-heard-of-that, but it is the same old anti-Semitism you can find in any country with jerks in it which is to say humans in it (total bullshit). Obviously he has a unique perspective because of Iran’s relationship with Palestine and he was positioning himself very diplomatically based on that, but he was saying disgraceful and inexcusable things about Israel, Judaism, and the behavior of Jews in Germany during WWII, to my mind, but that is neither here nor there. (Read the interview online here at the Newsweek website.)

    Anyway, having discussed international politics and effectively hammered that shit out, we turned our attention back to the domestic front and went and got the flower situation all nailed down, is the point. Although at first we are pretty sure they thought we were marrying each other, and while watching them stammer to be PC and glance back and forth between us constantly was fun, I eventually clarified, “She is the bride. I’m just a friend who’s helping.” When I told Christo this, he suggested we should have kept them going and tried to muscle a discount from their obvious discomfort. Central Valley’s nearly benignly generic homophobia = just peaches and cream.

    Shoot, I need to go for right now. Got to smog my car. I’ll schedule this to post for later and hopefully I’ll be able to turn right back around and finish up. I have more to say, it involves big hair and blondes and me being a terrible reverse discriminator who needs to step down off my aren’t-I-so-cool-for-not-being-cool high horse before the altitude makes me ill in the Bad Way.

    Just another Monocle Monday

    September 28, 2009

    It’s Monocle Monday, because why not? Monocles: they are a Thing.

    Robert Downey, Jr., check out his debut studio album.

    Jeremy Irons has opinions about the Seven Deadly Sins.

    Conrad Veidt was once Cesare — he came, he saw, he conquered Expressionist film.

    Of course, it is not always so black and white in this world…

    Madwoman and fashionista to the stars, Pat Field is often not much my style, but I must always commend distinctiveness.

    Happy Monocle Monday!

    Hot Man Bein’ Hot of the day: James Dean, Pussy Magnet edition

    September 25, 2009

    James Dean being all handsome and fly with a couple kitty cats, and scope those specs no less! Heat.

    “Only the gentle are ever really strong.” –James Dean

    His cat’s name was Marcus. It was a present from Elizabeth Taylor.

    Finally, a pen and ink drawing which was auctioned two years ago by his museum on good ol’ eBay. Dean drew it for Geraldine Page, his co-star in a Broadway play. I don’t really want to know what those two are doing, but you have to admit it’s a pretty damned good drawing, as bestiality sketches go.

    It happens: “Sometimes” inaugural edition feat. Miss Drew Barrymore in a robe

    September 21, 2009

    It happens: Sometimes, you need a couple of fags to cheer you up.

    Advice: NSFW spoonful of sugar edition

    September 19, 2009

    Breasts are like a spoonful of sugar in that they help the medicine go down, don’t you agree?

    “She could tell me I’m going to die tomorrow and it wouldn’t matter, so long as she told me topless.” — Brody, Mallrats

    “Veronika smoking” by blanchenot on deviantart

    “The thing that makes you exceptional, if you are at all, is inevitably that which must also make you lonely.” –Lorraine Hansberry

    I’m sorry to break this news to you, but if you are different, and by all means please be so!!, your life is going to be harder than that of those dime a dozen nondreamers who come out of the jerk vending machine like a predictable package of m&m’s. Don’t let it get you down. I am trying not to and genuinely hope the same for you.

    It happens: Asia Argento NSFW Edition

    September 14, 2009

    Like she was not already a bombass superfly lady in her own right, she is also director Dario Argento’s daughter. I said goddamn, Asia Argento. You had me at buon giorno. Haters to the left!

    A confession: I feel like this picture represents my attitude toward women up until recently: a lot of masculine posturing, deliberate naughtiness with a subsconscious eye toward alienation, and tightly concealed feminine anxiety (keeping your feelings secret from a woman is virtually impossible, and this is mainly terrifying to me — I feel that the sheer dress represents this vain and futile attempt to conceal my very real girly core, which is just as sensitive and emotional as all-git-out and I shudder to admit makes me as vulnerable as any other chick on the block). But I’ve been on this new quest to strengthen my pre-existing female relationships—I have close female friends without whom I could literally not live, yet I still insist that women don’t get along with me; clearly this is false or else is based on residual hurt from some distant past that I need to just plain get over—and hopefully forge some new ones, too.

    I’m trying to overcome my shyness around women and be less of a geeky tomboy, or at least balance that trait, and to stop pigeonholing 51% of the world’s population as likely to dislike me. I am guilty of reverse discrimination: by assuming a girl is not going to “get” me or like me, I am not only doing my sex a terrible turn, but I am also depriving myself of the opportunity to meet and learn from a new person. So I am working on this.

    Good day, sunshine

    September 13, 2009

    “It’s a dangerous business, going out your front door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.” –Bilbo Baggins, The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring.

    I had a really special, good day yesterday. I took my ruby slips and my red umbrella on a few adventures, highlights of which I am still thinking about and look forward to sharing. I plan to write more soon, but it’s the weekend and that means family time, because I’m oldtimey like that. Off to church now, because I am also oldtimey like that.

    At the bus stop.

    Very magical morning and early afternoon. I’ll explain later. See you soon!

    Unlikely G’s: Extremely NSFW

    September 13, 2009

    Hat Girl is so much flyer than you. What is that like?

    It happens: All apologies

    September 12, 2009

    Audrey Hepburn, I am sorry that I adapted Alfred Hitchcock’s criticism of you yesterday when I called you the patron saint of anorexics. It was totally not okay of me to call you out like that. I don’t know what came over me and I heartily apologize.

    You’re a special spirit, a fellow brunette and fellow guilty smoker, and I’ve always thought you had a certain style, and I’ve always bet you used to tap your collarbone when you were bored in line at the ladies’ just like me, and, well, long story short, I hope that we’re still cool. Sorry again.

    I thought maybe today I will schedule some you-centric ghost posts to try to make it up to you (not that, from what I gather, you were much of a one for kowtowing and attention…but still). Okay?