Here’s a lass named Wendy Glenn, who joined some Brit soap opera or other as a youngin, and stayed on for decades:
She even inspired some bloke to paint a pic of her:
And I have to say that now, some decades later, she’s still quite toothsome:
Tag: Things of beauty
Art, music, whatever
Now THAT’S An Ally
In contrast to that asshole Commie Xi (see post above), I note that my current political crush EytiePM Giorgia Meloni called DJT to congratulate him on beating off [sic] the Dark Side:
The conversation was “an opportunity to confirm the solid alliance, the strategic partnership and the deep and historic friendship that have always tied Rome and Washington,” she said.
During the phone call we expressed “our willingness to work in close coordination on all major international affairs, with the common goal of promoting stability and security, also in the framework of relations with the European Union,” she added.
The two agreed to “stay in close contact,” Meloni noted, to continue strengthening their “already excellent bilateral relations, founded on shared values and principles.”
“Shared principles” include kicking out illegal migrants and hating on the mainstream Commie media.
Just to remind everyone of whom we speak:
My favorite international political hottie wasn’t finished:
Donald Trump was not the sole recipient of Meloni’s congratulations, which she also extended to billionaire tech entrepreneur Elon Musk, with whom she has had an ongoing rapport.
“In the past few hours I have spoken with my friend Elon Musk,” Meloni wrote on social media Thursday. “I am convinced that his commitment and vision will be an important resource for the United States and Italy, in a spirit of collaboration aimed at addressing future challenges.”
Musk has been an outspoken fan of Italy’s first female prime minister, declaring that she is “even more beautiful on the inside than she is on the outside,” on the occasion of presenting her with the Global Citizen Award on behalf of the Atlantic Council, a progressive American think tank, this past September.
Meloni “has done an incredible job as prime minister of Italy,” leading the country to “record economic growth and employment,” Musk said at the time. “She is also authentic, honest, and sincere, something that cannot always be said of politicians,” Musk declared at the New York meeting.
Okay, so I’m not the only one with a crush on la nostra Giorgia.
Oh To Be In
…England, where, as the poet once wrote, autumn is the “season of mists and mellow fruitfulness” (as seen in the pic below, taken three days ago):
Oh okay: here’s the whole thing:
Missing The Cold
From Reader Joe Donuts (probably a pseudonym):
“Your wallpaper got me pondering as do many of your posts about what used to be Great Britain. I spent most of my 20 plus years in Uncle Sam’s Traveling Air Circus stationed in East Anglia. Miss it terribly and shudder at what it, and the rest of Europe, has become.
“Fall left here last week. The snow has been on the ground since Monday and is here to stay until late April. I’ve woken to single digit temps the last day or two; they’ll have a negative sign soon enough. Call me odd, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Nor would I. Possibly the strangest thing is that as much as I wouldn’t live pretty much anywhere in the North that I used to (Chicago, New Jersey etc.), I do miss the seasons thereof.
I loved the spring: the way that one day it’s brown and ugly after the snow has melted, and a week later the trees are in full bloom and the grass has somehow recovered after being buried in snow for a few months and is now green again; the joy of a warm, occasionally-hot summer when it feels good to be outside and life just seems more worth living after the February-April dreariness; of the fall, where the trees change from uniform green into a kaleidoscope of many colors and the sweaty heat of summer is replaced with cooler temperatures; and finally, that first snowfall, the beauty of the white covering over everything and the incredible hush that falls after the snow has fallen…
I miss it all, terribly.
And yes, I know that raking the leaves is a pain in the ass, that shoveling snow every morning at 6am in sub-freezing temperatures can become tiresome, and that after the snow has more or less melted away in the late winter/early spring that everything looks dirty and ugly.
As the man said: “Show me paradise and I’ll buy us the tickets.”
Wallpaper
This doesn’t count as a post, but I thought I’d share my Fall wallpaper with y’all. I think it’s somewhere in England, but it could equally be somewhere in New England. Whatever. Right-click to embiggen and/or save for yourself.
“Why Fall wallpaper, Kim?”
We had our first cold-ish snap of the season last Wednesday… 49°F when New Wife went off to work. Sure as hell beat the 85°F at the same time during the week before.
Final Song
Brits were polled recently on which song they’d like to hear in their dying moments, and oy vey:
…and all I have to say is: FFS.
- Having Sinatra bellowing his out-of-tune signature song would only hasten my demise by making me roar in rage and pain. Fucking hell, imagine taking that noise with you into eternity.
- Ditto Whitney Houston’s braying version of that lovely Dolly Parton lament. (I might just accept Dolly’s version, though.)
- I love me some Tina Turner, but not Simply The Best.
- Ditto Judy Garland, but not the syrupy Over The Rainbow.
- And being on my deathbed can hardly be called “having fun”, unless Salma Hayek has granted my dying wish.
- I don’t believe in angels, even when sung by Abba.
- Finally a song I could listen to without bellowing in rage. Sing it to me, Satchmo. It would be my 1b). choice.
- I don’t know Beautiful, so no comment.
- Hmmmm a Beatles song… not Hey Jude; shuffling off the mortal coil with “Na na na nana na na” ringing in your ears would be just an unspeakable prospect.
- Okay, I wouldn’t mind a Queen song, just not that one. Depending on my mood, I could do Bohemian Rhapsody (or Fat-Bottomed Girls, so I could leave with a smile on my face).
Actually, the last song I’d like to hear is September Song. And yes, Willie’s version. I can think of no better way to slide into oblivion — and if I could be greedy, his entire Stardust album.