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AUDREY TOTTER AND THE EYEBALLS OF FIRE
The many glares of Audrey Totter, as catalogued by James Lileks.
UPDATE. Paco:
She was one farm-fresh, U.S.D.A. fancy grade tomato, the kind of girl that you’d never take home to Mom because you knew that one look at her would make Dad reach for the brilliantine and start wearing shoes in the house.
I’m going to find a mirror and practice until I can go Full Strength. I mean, how handy would that be?
Posted by tabitharuth on 2006 10 04 at 11:56 AM • permalinkAudrey Totter (my perceptions)
Photo 1. Immediately after saying, William, it’s not what you have, but how you use it.
*Photo 2. Looking at her monitor thinking, OK, who are those assholes (furiously writing down names) and saying to herself, Jesus H. Christ, where’s my bat.
Photo 3. The wife of Governor James McGreevy look. You’re leaving me, for WHO?
*Photo 4. That fucking idiot typed that AND during the Christmas Holidays?!
Photo 5. You want to do WHAT with that thing, not in this lifetime, pal, zip up!
Asterisks indicate possible, Andrea looks…:).
Yes, “interesting misfire” is a good description of the film version of The Lady in the Lake. What a pity nobody made a straight-forward, gimmick-free movie based on this Raymond Chandler novel. It has some great gumshoe patter; I think this is the novel in which Philip Marlowe described one character as having “eyes the color of a drink of water.”
Audrey was always a little too bug-eyed for my taste, but a lotta feminine pulchritude otherwise. In fact . . . She was one farm-fresh, U.S.D.A. fancy grade tomato, the kind of girl that you’d never take home to Mom because you knew that one look at her would make Dad reach for the brilliantine and start wearing shoes in the house. In that white negligee and bathrobe, she looked like an angel, but not the good sort - Lucifer’s moll, maybe. I flicked my fedora back a little to get a better view, pulled a chair over, positioned it back to front and sat down.
“Going to bed, baby, or heading to the kitchen for a glass of warm milk?”
“I couldn’t sleep, Mr. Paco. I saw a copy of Antony Lowenstein’s new book on the coffee table earlier and I came down to get it, thought it would cure my insomnia.”
“Oh, it’ll do that, baby, it surely will, but you’ve got to be careful about going into a coma. Incidentally, care to explain why you had to break into James Lileks’ house to find a book?”
“I did no such thing. I’m here at his invitation.”
“Mm-hm.” I fished a cigarette out of my shirt pocket. “Got a light?”
The doxy reached in her pocket, drew out a matchbook and tossed it to me. I studied it closely. Just what I thought.
“So, when was the last time you were at the Henry grady Hotel?”
Her face colored, and her baby-blues glared at me like she was trying to read the name of my haberdasher through my hat.
“You broke in to steal Lileks’ famous matchbook collection . It’s worth a fortune on the black market. No, don’t bother, honey. Retie the knot in your belt and let’s go.”
I think that last picture would turn a man to stone faster than Medusa’s gaze.
Do you suppose that was the look Hillary gave Bill after the Blue Dress Episode??
Posted by Tex Lovera on 2006 10 04 at 01:24 PM • permalinkI wouldn’t call that a glare; she looks more like she’s in shock. Glares require narrowed eyes and a tight-lipped phony smile.
Paco, you are a genius.
Posted by Sonetka's Mom on 2006 10 04 at 04:42 PM • permalinkPaco’s dad has shoes? Being part of this demographic means I am officially upwardly mobile.
Posted by Margos Maid on 2006 10 04 at 06:20 PM • permalinkMM, paco never claimed his dad owned shoes, he only said he’d wear them.
It always infuriated paco’s mom, finding the stiletto heels snapped off.
Posted by Steve Skubinna on 2006 10 04 at 07:27 PM • permalinkWomen can’t glare worth a damn these days. Well, not anorexic Western women. A glare don’t mean squat if you know a hard slap or flung ashtray isn’t likely to follow it.
Now Mexican dames, Italian broads, some Spanish dolls, THEY can still throw a sizzlin’ glare…
Posted by richard mcenroe on 2006 10 04 at 07:51 PM • permalinkDid you see the mounds in that bathrobe?! Who’s looking at her freakin’ eyes?
Come to Beavis, baby!
Posted by Spectre765 on 2006 10 04 at 08:14 PM • permalinkThat last picture of Totter is how I picture Andrea when she discovers that the italics have been left open.
Actually, it’s the look I just got when I saw that ti-o-dee-oh-deeyo person playing Google-whacking games again. (Putting his screen name at the top of his comments.) This person has been banned. Get your own blog if you want search engines to track you.
Posted by Andrea Harris, Administrator on 2006 10 04 at 09:52 PM • permalink#7- I reckon that Amelie made senate question time seem like watching the entire French airforce vertical stall into a petrochemical plant, which was being inspected by a UN commitee made up from representatives from Nth Korea, Syria, Iran and Sudan.
What a pretentious, boring, pointless, self-indulgent load of wank- I’m suprised it wasn’t funded by the AFC, having been written, produced and directed by some Balmain bead-twiddler.
The only Frog movies worth watching have Jean Reno in them, usually with a shitload of Peugeots being turned into the 3rd rate scrap from whence they came.
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I prefer Audrey Tautou myself.