400,000 page visits! Must be doing something right.
11/30/08
11/29/08
A Comment about Comments
Your comments, even brief rants, are okay. Links to porn sites are not. Comments that try to get me to somehow like Jean Harlow are futile. Corrections to photo captions and names are appreciated. If you know that I've misidentified a starlet, let me know. Please. But don't tell me who they aren't, if you can't provide the correct name of who they really are. Don't send links to commercial sites, if you can help it. If you really, really like, say, Julie Andrews or Joan Bennett, go out and create your own Julie Andrews or Joan Bennett sites. Yelling at me isn't going to do any of us any good. Comments from "Anonymous" are all right, but I usually just delete the long, contentious ones. Life is too short to argue with Mister Anonymous. If a comment contains a link to a profile or a blog, I usually check these out beforehand and eliminate those that I find offensive or hateful or overly commercial or whatever. I screen comments, of course. I've seen other blogs with unscreened comments, and the number of truly disturbed individuals out there is astounding sometimes. The world is full of crazy people. If you don't see a starlet you like, make your own blog. I don't "do requests," but I appreciate "suggestions." And, remember, if you don't see what you like here or don't like what you see, you can always click elsewhere. The Internet is like television that way, you can always just turn it off and go read a good book. Starlet Showcase is what it is. And you can take it or leave it, right? And, whatever you do, don't send me any phone numbers or pictures of your "friend" in her birthday suit.
Creamy Liz
Thought I'd post some creamy photos of Elizabeth
Taylor before, ya know, she got, uh...well, before she
married, ummm, somewhere after A Date With Judy
(1948) and before BUtterfield 8 (1960), before she
cheated on whatshisname and gained a few pounds
and became that sort of public Human Train Wreck
and that whole diva icon thing, which is the only
thing that a lot of people remember. And she had
pretty violet eyes, which you can see in a bazillion
color photographs here.
Squeeze Play
I ran across this picture from the delightful
Vintage Photos site, which got me looking
through some folders for pictures of starlets
in corsets. Wikipedia has way more information
about corsets than you'll probably ever need.
11/28/08
Twisted Sisters
Turner Classic Movies, the best darn channel on American television, was showing a biography of Joan Crawford this morning. There was a clip of Mildred Pierce (1945), and Ann Blyth was playing Joan Crawford's spoiled, unruly, snot-bag daughter, Veda. Her lips quivered. Her mouth pouted. Her chin jutted. I was reminded of a story about John Ford directing John Wayne in one of his early pictures. Ford stopped the take and yelled at John Wayne, saying, "You're acting with your chin." Or words to that effect. What he wanted from Wayne was an expressive face, not just a twitching chin. Anyway, in Mildred Pierce, young actress Ann Blyth was acting with her pouty lips. And that reminded me a lot of Joey Heatherton, who very often acted with her pouty mouth and sometimes her hips. So I ventured out on the World Wide Spider Web and found a pile of photos of Ann Blyth and Joey Heatherton and their funny, pouty mouths. And I glued some of them together, you know, for scientific comparison. And it turned out freaking spooky.
Or maybe it's just their beady little eyes and
sour little mouths. (Or maybe it's just me.)
Visiting Farbror Sid
I was looking around for a Joey Heatherton photo
when I stumbled across the Farbror Sid (Uncle Sid)
site in Swedish. He's got 50s, 60s, 70s, and 80s retro
girls, retro ads, retro cars, retro fashions, and, well,
what's not to like? I snagged a few of his pictures for
this post. Most of his are in full, screaming color.
I was so impressed that I added his site to my links
list. Check him out.
11/27/08
Silly White Eyes #8
According to Wikipedia, Thanksgiving in the
United States is "related to the deliverance of
the English settlers by Native Americans after
the brutal winter at Plymouth, Massachusetts."
We have parades, eat too much, and watch
football games. And the next day we all go
shopping. It can get pretty intense.
11/26/08
11/25/08
11/24/08
11/23/08
4,000 Pictures Later. . .
Somewhere in all this chaos, I uploaded my 4,000th
absolutely free sexy starlet photograph. I hope that
you're keeping count, because I don't have the time.
fotografiert freies reizvolles starlet 4000 hier
4000 ελεύθερες προκλητικές φωτογραφίες στάρλετ εδώ
4000自由でセクシーな若手はここに撮影する
свободная сексуальная звёздочка 4000 фотографирует здесь
4000 자유로운 섹시한 starlet는 여기에서 사진을 찍는다
la actriz joven atractiva libre 4000 fotografía aquí
4000自由的性感的小明星拍摄得这里
la starlette 4000 libre photographie ici
Passion Dance
I've been listening to jazz great McCoy Tyner's
Passion Dance, but I can't seem to find a video
of it online, so here's Austin Peralta playing it.
He's excellent.
Passion Dance
A little history of McCoy Tyner
And a little Miles Davis just for grins.
Miles Davis Quintet - So What
Uploaded by Delta_Mike
11/22/08
Sullivan's Bathrobe
If you've ever watched the 1941 Preston
Sturges movie Sullivan's Travels, you know
that one of the best things in it is Sullivan's
bathrobe.
Coffee & the Future of Mankind
So I got home late from work last night, right? And I slept about seven hours, which is enough for me. And I wake up, and the freaking heating element on my coffeemaker is hosed. And I realize that I could boil some water on the stove and pour it through a filter filled with coffee, which would get me that first hot cup. But that would only put off the inevitable trip to the store to buy a new coffeemaker. And it's Saturday, which means that the stores will be jammed with humanity, and on Saturdays it's definitely true that hell is other people. So I throw on jeans, jacket, hat, and boots and drive to the store. The parking lot is packed. The aisles are crowded with shoppers making their weekly shopping trips. Me, I made my weekly grocery trip on Thursday, so I'm not there for much. I just need this one emergency coffeemaker thing, and I'm outta there!
I get the cheap model with the On-Off switch. There are programmable ones, fancy ones with timers, and coffeemakers with "stronger" and "weaker" settings, like I don't know how to measure my own friggin' coffee to get the taste I want, right? There are cute little 5-cup coffeemakers that might fill my giant mugs twice. I'd get one of those, but I'd spend all my friggin' time friggin' brewing friggin' coffee. And I don't want to spend my Saturday brewing new miniature pots of coffee. I want to spend my day drinking the sh!t and chain smoking and treasure hunting starlet photographs on the Internet. So I just need the cheap P.O.S. model with the On-Off switch. Sure, it'll break in 14 months. Sure, it's disposable crap technology. Yup. I know that. I burn through coffeemakers like I used to burn through VHS players. Twelve or 14 months, and they're toast. I don't get them repaired. I don't b!tch about it. I don't mourn the landfills and the green Earth. I just want my morning coffee. Call me insensitive. Go ahead.
So I get home with my cheap sh!t coffeemaker, and I rip open the box. Throw out the Styrofoam inserts, the instructions, the coupons, and the plastic wrap. (This is just murder on the rain forests and our children's future world, I know. But they'll have robot coffee or caffeine injections then. They'll be building their highrise apartments out of our bones and cigarette butts some day. Let 'em get their own freaking coffee!) And I run one cycle of clean water through the thing to wash the Indonesian or Mexican or Arkansas factory germs out of the internal pipes. And then I load it up with the real stuff and go to town making that first real cup. And, of course, it's a beaut! Hammerhead brain-slam breakfast-bleed coffee. Yesss!
And finally, I'm lit up right.
Uh-huh.
11/21/08
11/20/08
And So It Begins. Again.
It snowed the other day. You know how much I hate winter here in the Rust Belt. Someone at work was talking about growing up in Colorado, and how it snows while the sun is shining. I've been to Colorado. They've got weird weather, where it's sunny at 9 AM, rainy at 11, sunshiny at noon, snowy at 2, and sunny again by 4 PM. Their TV meteorologists are either right all the time or wrong all the time. Here in the Rust Belt, the forecast should be cold, damp, and gray for the next four months with very rare glimpses of the sun. It makes me miss Southern California, where one can roar (or crawl) down the San Bernardino freeway and look up at Mount Baldy and see the snow at a distance. That's like watching winter on television. You don't get the slush on your boots. You don't have to even wear a coat, long underwear, and boots. You can pad around in your flip-flops and shorts all day. Your car's battery isn't strained beyond its limits every time you crank over the engine. There isn't that 15-minute warm-up time for your automobile in January. It isn't like here. Winter can be rough here. It isn't pretty at all. "Why don't you just leave?" you ask. I will. I will. Just give me a few more years until I can retire. Then I'll be watching winter on TV somewhere else. Somewhere warmer.
11/19/08
Faster Pussycat
No, we won't shut up
We're just babblin' on and on
Babylon and babblin' on and on
Pussy pussy pussy pussy pussycat
Shut up!
Pussy pussy pussy pussy pussycat
Shut up!
Babylon - Faster Pussycat
11/18/08
Scooter Cuties
It's Transportation Tuesday! I'm gonna file
this one under Cars and hope that nobody
notices.
11/17/08
11/16/08
Hip Shake
Okay, even I have to admit that occasionally
this one has her moments, as in this hip-shaking
clip from Dance, Fools, Dance (1931). I don't
mind her in Lon Chaney movies either.
Violence, Death, & Jackie Bisset
There's a sh!tload of Jacqueline Bisset here.
"Do you let anything reach you? I mean, really reach
you? Or are you so used to it by now that nothing really
touches you? You're living in a sewer, Frank, day after
day. With you, living with violence is a way of life, living
with violence and death."
- Jacqueline Bisset as Cathy in Bullitt (1968)
Whoa! She even looks good in a hat.
(I filed this post under Raccoons for a reason.)
11/15/08
11/14/08
Pam Grier, Sex Machine, etc.
If you're in the mood for some really
funky Sly Stone music and you have
13 minutes to spare, then listen to these:
Sex Machine Part 1
Sex Machine Part 2
. . .or you can just look at Pam Grier.
What. Ever.
11/13/08
11/12/08
Slaughterhouse Travel & Leisure
Okay, so those of you who have been doing your homework might remember me mentioning that an alarm had gone off in the Human Resources Department where I work, because I had not had any training in a long time, and they hunted up something to send me to, so that my personnel file would reflect that I'd had plenty of training. And, after all of the complex arrangements were arranged, they sent me off. And that's where I've been for a couple of days. (In the meantime, the posts here have been percolating right along, because I set them up beforehand, so that you, dear reader, would get your daily dose of starlet insight.)
Right.
So the training was the usual misspelled PowerPoint slides, long rows of white-linen-covered hotel conference tables with pitchers of ice water, intense youths intent on learning and intently discussing the training conference's intense course material, and instructors who frequently failed in their attempts at humor. There were "networking lunches." I didn't network very well. I am not really a networker. I probably didn't network adequately even when I was younger and more enthusiastic. Networking is simply not my strong point. I think I prefer to work without a net. They gave me a name badge. I wore a suit. I sat at one of the "networking lunches" between two females who were not as old as the tie I was wearing. Literally. Like the old joke: I've got ties older than that girl you're dating. People talked about the training. They adored the trainers. They ignored the misspelled PowerPoint slides. The hotel stay was painless and almost trouble-free. I killed a small centipede in the shower and had a heck of a time with the television remote, but everything else was relatively un-annoying. And I was not snarky around all those fresh faces who really, actually wanted to attend this training thing. I was on my best behavior. Really. I went without Turner Classic Movies for a couple days, but I had a good book and The History Channel for down times. I got to watch History Channel programs about Kafka, America's railroad tycoons, and the Battle of Gettyburg. I saw short documentaries about how eggs are produced, how plastic bottles are manufactured, and how Fokker airplanes were made.
And, speaking of airplanes, I drifted through two of America's modern airports, herded up tunnels and down corridors, penned up in holding gates, packed into concourses, shuttled hither and yon, searched shoeless, hustled and rushed, and buckled into a tiny seat for a thrill ride in a wide-bodied jet jam-packed with other faceless cattle. I can imagine that steers don't really mind the "humane" hammer-gun that awaits them at the door to the slaughterhouse. For some reason, the airlines charge a flat fee of $15, if you want to have baggage. Who wants to travel anywhere without a suitcase??? And they want another $154, if you want room for your legs. I went through O'Hare Airport, one of its 80 million annual passengers, but I've been through O'Hare lots of times; it's like an old friend. The other airport was somewhat "under construction," has no "You Are Here" maps on the wall to let you orient yourself, and is built in modules that you reach via shuttles. Me, I like a map, and I don't mind walking. Anyway, I'm glad I speak and read English. I'm glad I didn't bring a lot of huge carry-on items. I'm glad I wasn't traveling with a crying baby. I'm glad I didn't bring a coughing 6-year-old boy with me. I'm glad I wasn't accompanied by a sullen teenage daughter. I'm glad I wasn't under-dressed or over-packed. I'm glad I wasn't on vacation. I'm glad I wasn't in a hurry. I'm glad I wasn't late. My life, my career, my future, and my hopes did not depend on me struggling through these airports on time. I just drifted. The airline people were pretty friendly. The security people were not unkind. The men and women at the news stands and restaurants were basically sleepwalkers. I am not sure what the airlines are thinking when they assign women with Asian accents to make routine boarding announcements. That would be like sending me to a Thailand airport with a phrasebook and a microphone. C'mon, already.
Anyway, there are a gazillion people in this world. And they all have their own problems or "issues." And, when flying, it is best to be really quiet and cooperative and try to take up the least amount of space possible. By clever use of nicotine patches, I managed to make it through the last two days and come out alive, emerging from the slaughterhouse somehow unslaughtered. And I'm home again. But they left my suitcase in Chicago. The nice lady at the baggage counter was very apologetic. I told her not to worry. I told her it was much better than if they had delivered my suitcase and left me in Chicago. Me, I was home. I didn't care. And the folks in my company's Human Resources Department will probably leave me alone for six more years. And, by then, I'll be GONE!
11/11/08
11/10/08
Luise Rainer 2 - The Rest of Her
(I'm not sure exactly what Luise Rainer and
Robert Young are doing in this picture, but
it seems to be working.)
11/9/08
11/8/08
Pia Zadora, Starlet
I see that the Pia Zadora film Butterfly (1982)
has been released on DVD. I'm not going to slam
the lady or make fun of her movies. As starlets
go, she has an interesting "starlet story." (And
she has great hair, no matter what color it
happens to be.) Learn more about her HERE.
A Roman Holiday
This is actress Ruth Roman, who spiced up
Champion (1949), Dallas (1950), Strangers
on a Train (1951), The Far Country (1954),
and The Killing Kind (1973). She and her son
survived the 1956 sinking of the Andrea Doria.
11/7/08
11/6/08
Scary Teenagers
They said all teenagers scare
The living sh!t out of me
They could care less
As long as someone'll bleed
So darken your clothes
Or strike a violent pose
Maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me
The boys and girls in the clique
The awful names that they stick
You're never gonna fit in much, kid
But if you're troubled and hurt
What you got under your shirt
Will make them pay for the things that they did
Teenagers - My Chemical Romance
11/5/08
11/4/08
11/3/08
Hey! Don't Forget To VOTE!
If you live in the United States, don't forget
to vote tomorrow. If you live in North Korea,
don't you wish you could?
선거에는 1 후보자 이상 있다.
11/2/08
Before They Were Magical
Before Elizabeth Montgomery became Samantha or
Barbara Eden became Jeannie, they both appeared in
1963 episodes of the television show Burke's Law. The
show is simply stuffed with sexy Sixties starlets.
Actually, these two were already rather magical.
11/1/08
Halloween Hangover
Everybody had a good time.
Everybody let their hair down.
Everybody pulled their socks up.
Everybody put a wig on. Oh yeah.
Maybe you're nursing a hangover today.
Or picking pumpkin seeds out of your hair.
Or dealing with kids on a sugar rush.
Or ya didn't go home with the zombie
what brung ya. Or maybe you got just
a little bit too uninhibited. Ah well.
There's always next year.
Snake Women
You can hear Ray Wylie Hubbard's song Snake Farm
HERE. (Like many of us, Ray Wylie
Hubbard is a lot smarter than he looks.)
Salma Hayek in From Dusk Till Dawn (1996).
Again NSFW. (I like the dance better once
she loses the snake, but that's just me.)
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