After yesterday’s post featuring Emma Mackey, here’s an even better caterpillar-to-butterfly series, this time about mousy erotic-artist-clarinettist Lily, played by Tanya Reynolds. Here’s Lily:
…and here’s Tanya:
Yikes.
More of the Sex Ed totties will follow as more are revealed, so to speak.
I’ve been watching the outstanding Brit TV show Sex Education — which, after a shaky start in the first episode-and-a-half, has turned into must-watch stuff for me. (I’m currently just into Season 2 of 3.)
But this isn’t a review of the show. Rather, I want to focus on [sic] a couple of the totties who star in the show.
Here’s Maeve, played by Franco-Brit actress Emma Mackey, as she appears in the show (as the school slut):
You can see that she’s pretty, but of course the character hides her true beauty:
Looks like a combination of Françoise Hardy and Brigitte Bardot, n’est-ce pas?
And then there’s tomorrow’s vision…
From Over the Pond, a Touring Car race at the Goodwood Revival (what I done missed this year sob sob) that features practically every Le Mans-winning driver of the past two decades, some former F1 drivers, NASCAR’s Jimmy Johnson, and Rowan Atkinson: all driving cars what I loves (okay, the Ford Galaxies not so much).
Next year, I promise… I’ll sell some guns if I have to — just watch me.
Via Insty, here’s another piece about how today’s movies suck, from a sound perspective. (The article is only listed as “Updated Sep 22, 2022”, so it may actually be a rewrite — and a lot of it seems familiar.)
I was going to comment on it in a post, but a lot of what I planned to write seemed awfully familiar to me. And somewhere in my broken memory, I remembered that I’d already done just that, in Mumbles In The Darkness earlier in June of this year.
So that’s my comment.
Which leads me to a tangential thought. In looking to see whether I had written on the topic earlier, I used the “Search” function on this very web site, to the right of the page, just under the header.
All I did was type “movie” in the search bar, and a veritable timeline of my writings on the topic followed.
And I found myself wasting spending the next hour or so re-reading some of my old posts, and apart from anything else, I was amazed at how little my opinions have changed (not too surprising, considering the writer, but still).
Here’s a thought. If ever you’re horribly bored with life, are sick of playing on the Internet but couldn’t be bothered to get out of your chair, type in a random topic (e.g. “rifle”, “travel”, “Colt” or “socialist” and so on), and go back in time to see what I’ve written on the topic.
As journeys go, it’s cheaper than driving or going to the range (!!!!!!). As to how much you might enjoy it, I make no comment.
Ron Spomer reminds us that in the end, shooting is just plain fun.
I have sufficient .22 ammo supplies on hand to support such a shooting activity for about the next ten years.
And let me tell you that if I had a place like his, with .22 spinner targets and such scattered all over the countryside, you’d never get me away from there.
I mean, never.
I see with sadness that veteran Brit actor David Warner has gone to join the Choir Invisibule, and the screen has lost one of its better character actors in consequence.
My favorite of his roles is in the (apparently-forgotten) time-travel piece, Time After Time, in which he played Jack The Ripper to Malcolm McDowell’s H.G. Wells (storyline here).
What I loved about this movie was that when H.G Wells (the good guy) is transported from his comfortable Victorian life forward to modern-day San Francisco, he finds it incredibly difficult to cope. Not so for the Ripper (Warner), who finds that evil transcends culture and, for that matter, time as well — and among San Francisco’s prostitute population, he has an even greater choice of victims than in 19th-century London. And Warner is beyond-words excellent in the role.
R.I.P.