A little while back, while browsing through the Brit Newspapers (so you don’t have to), I saw mention of one Shilpa Shetty, who was in trouble for some reason a few years ago, but now is no longer — never mind the details, they are completely irrelevant and eminently forgettable.
However, Miss Shetty certainly isn’t:
Not being au courant with the goings-on in Hollywood let alone Bollywood, I have no idea who she is or what she’s done, but she’s definitely worth a look.
From Longtime Reader Chaz (who had obviously taken his Grumpy Pill earlier), I got this response to yesterday’s post about driving around Italy with a gorgeous actress by your side:
As the son of an actress and a barrister, born to the stage, I have to tell you that the very idea of being obliged to drive an actress, any actress, the length of a country, any country, in a car, any car, is for me a much less than appealing prospect.
Damn it all, man, most of your cars don’t even have a back seat for her to back-seat-drive from.
Were I blackmailed or otherwise coerced into doing this I would select the fastest car and get the whole wretched business over as quickly as possible. Whichever actress came with the car could jolly well keep schtum or ride the rest of the way in the trunk (note effortless use of correct US terminology).
My choice (definitely assuming your stipulation of ‘no breakdowns’) would be the Alvis Stalwart.
And ideally no passengers. One of my recurrent nightmares used to be that of being confined for a fortnight to a compartment on the Trans-Siberian Railway with the late Archbishop Desmond Tutu. As the poor fellow is no longer with us perhaps this one will now subside.
It had me howling with laughter all the way through.
Especially at the vision of Chaz trying to maneuver the Stalwart through some of those teeny Italian village streets…
I understand the problems associated with actresses (having been once married to one) and the exasperating experience of highly-strung, unreliable old cars (former Fiat driver), but none of that compares to the absolute joy of piloting either of them at full speed, so to speak. In other words, it would be well worth the hassle.
All that said, I nearly wimped out with my choice because, as y’all know, it’s an unbelievably difficult choice: which gorgeous car? which gorgeous woman? It’s a conjoint analysis with so many factors…
…but Gina Lollobrigida and the Austin-Healey combine throbbing sexuality with throbbing automotive power, so #3 ends up being my ultimate choice.
Next Sunday’s post will feature a similar set of gut-wrenching choices.
Mr. Bean has created a stir:
Rowan Atkinson has reportedly finally moved into his ‘space age petrol station’ mansion after a decade-long planning row with neighbours. The Blackadder star, 67, initially bought the 1930s quaint English home – known as Handsmooth House – and its 16 acres of land for £2.6million in 2006.
He shocked locals in the charming seventh century village of Ipsden in Oxfordshire when he knocked it down and installed a modern 8,000 sq. ft. glass and steel mansion designed by top U.S. architect Richard Meier in its place.
Oy. From this:
…to this:
Now I’ll grant you that House #1 needed a lot of restoration. And I’ll also grant you that House #2 is located where nobody can see it (at least from the road).
But seriously?
I note, by the way, that he has ample space to park his supercar collection:
Small wonder that it took him ten years to get permission to build this dropping of visual excrement. It should have taken longer.
Paula Deen
Lorraine Bracco
Naomi Wolf
…that would be Francesca Eastwood, Clinty’s daughter:
Same girl, different life stages.
…to America’s Sweetheart:
