Posts Tagged 'music'

HISTORY, CIVICS, AND PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY PART 1

HISTORY, CIVICS, AND PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY PART 2

HISTORY, CIVICS, AND PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY PART 3

DIGITAL-AGE DECADENCE

Queen’s “We Are The Champions” was the graduation theme song for the class of 1984 at Murphy High School, in Mobile, Alabama.  It was probably the graduation theme song for numerous classes before that, since it was released in 1977.  I was among six commencement speakers chosen by the senior and junior classes for the ceremony–at which the Murphy High School chorus sang the song, accompanied by the Murphy High School band.

“We Are The Champions” is not even one of my favorite Queen songs, let alone my favorite songs, in general.  The lyrics are simpler than those of my favorite Queen songs–and the music is not nearly as complex.  Yet note the passionate singing of Freddie Mercury–and the unforgettable instrumentation of the band, particularly the electric-guitar artistry.  And note the raw, wild, real, personal, sincere, human interaction between the band and the audience.

Yes, this is the kind of music that was played at graduation ceremonies and sporting events before the Digital Age.

 

 

 

 

No, this is not a commercial–this is the kind of music that is played at graduation ceremonies and sporting events in this Digital Age.  There is no band–all of the music is digitally programmed, and electronically produced.  And the lyrics are not just simple–they’re totally simplistic, and indescribably trite.  The singing isn’t passionate at all–it’s completely contrived.  And there is no interaction with an audience because the only audience is an unseen collective of smartphone addicts–none of whom are even interacting with each other.

This is Digital-Age decadence.

ON MY 51st BIRTHDAY

The sun is the same, in a relative way

But I’m older

Shorter of breath

And one year closer to death.

This is the bad news.

The sun is the same, in a relative way

But I’m older

Shorter of breath

And one year closer to death.

This is the good news.

 

(song lyrics credit: Roger Waters)

EASY ON THE EYES #25

Bettie PageCassandra Peterson 1Cassandra Peterson 2Cassandra Peterson 3Cassandra Peterson 4Cassandra Peterson 5Cassandra Peterson 6Cassandra Peterson 7Cassandra Peterson 8Cassandra Peterson 9Cassandra Peterson 10Cassandra Peterson 11Cassandra Peterson 12Cassandra Peterson 13Cassandra Peterson 14Cassandra Peterson 15Cassandra Peterson 16Cassandra Peterson 17Cassandra Peterson 18Cassandra Peterson 19Cassandra Peterson 20Cassandra Peterson 21Cassandra Peterson 22Cassandra Peterson 23Cassandra Peterson 24Cassandra Peterson 25Cassandra Peterson 26Cassandra Peterson 27Donna Reed 1Donna Reed 2Donna Reed 3Donna Reed 4Donna Reed 5Donna Reed 6Donna Reed 7Donna Reed 8Donna Reed 9Donna Reed 10Elizabeth Taylor 1Elizabeth Taylor 2identity unknownJean SimmonsPiper Laurie 1Piper Laurie 2Ronee BlakleyThora Birch 1Thora Birch 2Thora Birch 3

FIRST WILL AND TESTAMENT

It’s a horrible way to die.

Yeah, well I didn’t ask to die this way.

What way?

Slowly, agonizingly–from a combination of psychiatric drugs whose effects my body can no longer tolerate (because there are no safer drugs available) and fast food saturated with a deadly amount of fat and salt (because I can no longer afford healthier food).

Ironic–you are in far more danger writing a sober post, your head tight, your calves tight, your eyeballs rolling around with some kind of dyskinesia and/or sodium poisoning than writing a drunken post, your body and mind totally relaxed under the influence of alcohol, your blood pressure lowered to a safe level.

Yeah, well I can’t afford a large, healthy dinner to absorb a large, healthy amount of alcohol.  And I can’t obtain medical marijuana to replace these far more dangerous psychiatric drugs, because it’s not legal yet.  And I can’t simply stop these deadly psychiatric drugs with nothing safer to replace them.  I can’t even replace these deadly psychiatric drugs with a moderate amount of alcohol daily, because there’s alcoholism in my family history, and there’s no Mediterranean component to my Old World ancestry.

Even if there were a woman in my life who could cook the healthiest, yet tastiest food for me, calm me with her body, nourish me rather than drain me, complement me rather than control me, accommodate me rather than dominate me, I could safely write such a sober post as this one.  But there isn’t–there never has been, and there probably never will be.

So let me die writing, since I am to die alone.

I was in the second or third grade.  It was about the time I’d started this trend of chasing the girls around the playground to kiss them.  Other boys had caught on–and we had to stay in, during recess one day.  This put a stop to that.

Then another boy came up with a different way to catch girls–impressing them with daring.  Other boys caught on, other boys including me.  There was a very high slide in the playground.  And this boy, instead of sliding down, decided to jump off the back of the slide.  The ground was dirt and grass–but there was a square of strong support bars midway down.  This boy jumped, and he was okay. Others followed, and they were okay.  Then I jumped.  Maybe it was because I was taller than the other boys, maybe not–but I didn’t fall straight down on my feet like the others.  I tumbled into the square of support bars.  Remembering, it seems like I was suspended in midair–or moving in slow-motion.  There was no pain.  But my arms hit the bars, my legs hit the bars, and my head hit the bars. Yet I got to my feet–and the very girls I’d tried to impress checked on me, making sure I was alright (the other boys had split).  And I was alright–no fracture, not even a bruise.

Not long after, neighborhood kids got the idea to play a game in Robby’s pool.  I think it was called chicken fighting.  The smaller, lighter boys would get on the shoulders of the larger, heavier boys in the shallow end of the pool–then try to push each other into the water.  Of course it was far more dangerous for the larger, heavier boys.  Smaller, lighter Jeff sat on my shoulders, and his opponent pushed him into the water.  And I was trapped, of course.  All I could do was hold my breath, as I waited for Jeff to get off my shoulders.  This was different than the incident with the slide–I was aware of this, I was aware that I was about to drown.

This is probably another reason the wreck of the Sunset Limited affected me more seriously than the 9/11 catastrophe–those who died in that wreck probably died in a much more horrible way.  Those who jumped from the Twin Towers were likely the only 9/11 victims who suffered as much terror as the victims of the Sunset Limited wreck.

Imagine this–you’re on a train going over a bayou bridge in the dark.  And your rail car crashes into the bayou.  If you’re lucky, the crash will knock you out–so you won’t know what hit you.  If you’re not, you will be desperately trying to find a way out of that car before it fills up with water–along with countless other screaming passengers.  It’s totally dark–there are no lights over that bayou.  So not only are you unable to find a way out of the car, you don’t even know which way is up.

But Jeff managed to get off my shoulders–just in time.

The last time was a suicide attempt.  It was the only suicide attempt–because I lived and learned how nearly impossible it was to kill oneself.  Prozac is bad stuff–the worst.  It didn’t make me want to commit suicide–it made me delusional so that I thought God wanted me to commit suicide.  There I was on the floor dying. I was at peace, with the sensation of floating in deep space, yet breathing, stars surrounding me.  And something literally possessed my body–made me get up, and dial 911.  At first I thought that something was the Devil.  Then I thought it was God.  But in time, I realized it was my primal brain–that bit of tissue that contains the one bit of emotion every animal has–the fear of death.

Nothing more, nothing less.

I despise money–perhaps more than anything else.

Money is not something I want to have–only something I have to have.

Money has absolutely no value–ever.

And money is completely useless–until it is spent for products and services that have value.

Even when money is saved, it is only saved to be spent at a later time.

Even when money is invested, it is only invested to acquire more money that is still completely useless until it is spent.

Even when money is given away, it is only given away to be spent by someone other than oneself.

Money has absolutely no value–ever.

And money is completely useless–until it is spent for products and services that have value.

Why wouldn’t I despise money?  Why wouldn’t anyone despise money?

If I have money, it has no value–and it is completely useless until it is spent for products and services that have value.

But if I don’t have money, I cannot acquire products and services that have value–products which include food, services which include disposal of food remains.

This is the worst time in American history to be poor.

In the past, the poor in the United States could get help from their families and communities.

But there is no more family in the United States.

And there is no more community.

I’m obsessed with obtaining money–those without money always are.

“Here come the rich man in his big, long limousine.  Here come the poor man, Lord, he got to have his green.”

A couple weeks ago, there was a homeless woman with a dog.

She held a sign that read, NEED MONEY FOR TAMPONS, DOG FOOD…

I had fifty dollars in my wallet–all I had.

If I gave her this fifty dollars, I thought, would someone in turn give me five hundred dollars?

“Pay it forward” would work like this:

I give her $50–all I have.

Someone gives me $500–all she has.

Someone gives her $5,000–all he has.

Someone gives him $50,000–all she has.

Someone gives her $500,000–all he has.

Someone gives him $5,000,000–all she has.

Someone gives her $50,000,000–all he has.

Someone gives him $500,000,000–all she has.

Someone gives her $5,000,000,000–all he has.

Someone gives him $50,000,000,000–all she has.

I give her $500,000,000,000–all I have.

Someone gives me $5,000,000,000,000–but it’s not all she has.

If only I knew, I thought.

But I didn’t know–so I didn’t give her my fifty dollars.

There’s a $429 bottle of Scotch that’s at least thirty years old–I’ve mentioned it in a previous post.

Ever since I first saw it, I’ve wanted to purchase it–just to see if drinking it would transport me to 1986 or before.

But even the few times I had enough money to purchase it, I didn’t–because I didn’t know it would transport me anywhere anytime.

That eighteen-year-old Scotch I drank at the Shark Fin during that dinner with the Singletons of which I wrote in a drunken post (particularly of the Zionist bastard who embarrassed me in front of my friends–not because I was talking too loudly, but because he disagreed with what I said) that Scotch didn’t transport me back eighteen years.

So why would that $429 bottle of Scotch transport me back thirty years or more?

Because I would drink the entire bottle–not just a glass.

Still, it’s just a fantasy–to my knowledge.  That’s why I don’t sell everything I can to get the money to purchase it.

With sales and sin tax, it would be far more than $429 anyway.

Delaying the inevitable–this is all I’m doing each day, these the worst days of my life.  Having no money has knocked me down–yet circumstances keep kicking me anyway.  Every day, I delay the inevitable–the loss of everything but my life, my freedom, and whatever I can carry on my shoulders.

Yet we all delay the inevitable–all our lives.

From the moment we’re born, we delay the inevitable–which is death.

Even as newborn babies, we choose to nourish ourselves from the breast or the bottle–delaying death.

And though the pursuit of happiness is not our primary purpose in life, most of our time spent toward a greater purpose is constantly interrupted by our desire to delay the inevitable.  Our most basic human needs serve only the purpose of delaying death.

I started this post when I had enough money for fast food.  Now I only have enough money for store-bought food–peanut butter, cheese, bread, cottage cheese, and sliced ham.

This stuff–this cheapest of food–is far more dangerous than any fast food because it has even more salt.  It’s loaded with salt.

Can’t eat the cottage cheese–too much salt.  Can’t eat the sliced ham–too much salt.

Every store-bought food has too much salt because it’s used as a preservative.

The ham was the saltiest of all–I had to put the remainder in the front yard for stray cats.

The more salt a food has, the more it tightens my head and my muscles, makes my eyeballs roll around, and creates sharp pains in my legs–especially in combination with these goddamned psychiatric drugs.

I’ve never suffered such agony in my life–and only because I have no money, and no family or community to give me any support.

IN WORSHIP, I HEAR A BOBCAT HOWLING

Dorothy Dell Goff

http://www.gettyimages.com

EXAMINING OUR HUMAN FRAILTY

Muhammad Ali.

He was a very complex man–generally a forthright, honest man with a touch of artful boastfulness that was both audacious and endearing.

And he was known as much for his political and religious convictions as his genius in the boxing ring.

He was born Cassius Clay, but changed his name after converting to Islam.

Many, if not most Black Muslims in the United States are not true Muslims because they downplay, if not dismiss Muhammad as the Last Prophet (Messenger) of God.

But who am I to question Muhammad Ali’s faith?

For all I know, Muhammad Ali’s Muslim faith was true–that he believed in both parts of the core creed of Islam:  There is but one God, and Muhammad is his Messenger.

And given this, it is interesting that most Christian Americans are so much more familiar with Muhammad Ali than with Muhammad.

Yet I cannot help but think of the disturbing hypocrisy of it all.

Muhammad Ali was both a Black American and a Muslim American.

Before the Civil Rights Act was passed, and White Americans began to realize that they had so much more in common with Black Americans than they had previously thought, Black Americans had to really prove themselves–they had to prove to White Americans that they truly were equal, in every way, to White Americans.

Most notably I think of Marian Anderson.  Marian Anderson was a Black American contralto–with an incomparable singing voice.

She was not a civil rights activist at all–she chose a different way of “breaking the color barrier.”  The Daughters of the American Revolution–though quite familiar with Ms. Anderson’s incomparable voice–denied her access to Constitution Hall in Washington, D.C., simply because of her race.  But First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt got word of this–and let Marian Anderson sing in front of the Lincoln Memorial, instead–before thousands of astonished White Americans.

Black Americans–like Marian Anderson–proved themselves in the arts.

And Black Americans–like Cassius Clay–proved themselves in sports.

Yet even among many White Americans today–not necessarily racist, but somewhat bigoted–Blacks are not okay unless they’re sports heroes.

Sometimes this even works in reverse.  Many Black Americans–and some White Americans–truly believed that O.J. Simpson could not have possibly committed murder because he was such an ingenious athlete–and astute sports commentator.

And in the 2008 Presidential Election, as many Black American voters turned out as in the 1960 Presidential Election (Kennedy-Nixon).  And 97% of these Black Americans voted for Barack Obama–simply because of his race.  In fairness, many White Americans voted against Obama, simply because of his race.  But racial bias exists in all races–and we must recognize it within ourselves.

Even for racially bigoted Whites, Cassius Clay was okay because he was a sports hero.

In the same way, even for religiously bigoted Christians, Muhammad Ali was okay because he was a sports hero.

There is bigotry in all human beings–there always has been, and there always will be.

And it is essential that we examine our human frailty, and ask ourselves:

If this person’s race is okay because he is a sports hero–how come others of his race are not okay?

And if this person’s religion is okay because he is a sports hero–how come others of his religion are not okay?

EASY ON THE EYES #24

Queen Elizabeth II (1)Queen Elizabeth II (2)Queen Elizabeth II (3)Aline TowneAlison BrieAmiraAmy AdamsAmy OlsonAnn SheridanAnne ArcherAnne GwynneBarbara StanwyckCarole Landis 1Carole Landis 2Carole Landis 3Carole Landis 4Carole Landis 5Carole Landis 6Carole Landis 7Carole Landis 8Carole Landis 9Carole Landis 10Carole Landis 11Carole Landis 12Carole Landis 13Carole Landis 14Carole Landis 15Carole Landis 16Carole Landis 17Carole Landis 18Carole Landis 19Carole Landis 20Carole Landis 21Carole Landis 22

Carole Landis 1940

Carole Landis 1940

Carole Landis 24

Carole Landis 1939?

Carole Landis 1939?

Carole Landis 26Carole Landis 27Carole Landis 28Carole Landis 29Carole Landis 30Carole Landis 31Carole Landis 32Carole Landis 33Carole Landis 34Carole Landis 35Carole Landis 36Carole Landis 37Carole Landis 38Carole Landis 39Carole Landis 40Carole Landis 41Carole Landis 42Carole Landis 43Carole Landis 44Carole Landis 45Carole Landis 46Carole Landis 47Carole Landis 48Carole Landis 49Carole Landis 50Carole Landis 51Carole Landis 52Chelsea EdgeCyd CharisseDanielle DarrieuxDeborah KerrElena SergeevnaElizabeth BerkleyElizabeth Perkins 1Elizabeth Perkins 2Elizabeth Perkins 3Elizabeth Perkins 4Elizabeth Perkins 5Elizabeth Perkins 6Elizabeth Perkins 7Elizabeth Perkins 8Elizabeth Perkins 9Elizabeth Perkins 10Elizabeth Perkins 11Elizabeth Perkins 12

THE TONIGHT SHOW STARRING JOHNNY CARSON -- Pictured: (l-r) Actress Elizabeth Perkins during an interview with guest host Jay Leno on October 9, 1990 -- (Photo by: Paul Drinkwater/NBC/NBCU Photo Bank)

THE TONIGHT SHOW STARRING JOHNNY CARSON — Pictured: (l-r) Actress Elizabeth Perkins during an interview with guest host Jay Leno on October 9, 1990 — (Photo by: Paul Drinkwater/NBC/NBCU Photo Bank)

Elizabeth Perkins 14Elizabeth Perkins 15Elizabeth Perkins 16Elizabeth Perkins 17Elizabeth Perkins 18Elizabeth Perkins 19Elizabeth Perkins 20Elizabeth Perkins 21Elizabeth Perkins 22Elizabeth Perkins 23Elizabeth Perkins 24Elizabeth Perkins 25Elizabeth Perkins 26Elizabeth Perkins 27Elizabeth Perkins 28Elizabeth Perkins 29Elizabeth Perkins 30Elizabeth Perkins 31Elizabeth Perkins 32Elizabeth Perkins 33Elizabeth Perkins 34Elizabeth Perkins 35Elizabeth Perkins 36Elizabeth Perkins 37Elizabeth Perkins 38Elizabeth Perkins 39Elizabeth Perkins 40Elizabeth Perkins 41Elizabeth Perkins 42Elizabeth Perkins 43Elizabeth Perkins 44Elizabeth Perkins 45Elizabeth Perkins 46Elizabeth Perkins 47Elizabeth Perkins 48Elizabeth Perkins 49Elizabeth Perkins 50Elizabeth Perkins 51Elizabeth Perkins 52Elizabeth Perkins 53Elizabeth Perkins 54Elizabeth Perkins 55Elizabeth Perkins 56Elizabeth Perkins 57Elizabeth Perkins 58Elizabeth Perkins 59

BATTERY PARK -- NBC Series -- Pictured: Elizabeth Perkins as Captain Madeleine Dunleavy -- NBC Photo: Kevin Foley

BATTERY PARK — NBC Series — Pictured: Elizabeth Perkins as Captain Madeleine Dunleavy — NBC Photo: Kevin Foley

Elizabeth Perkins 61Elizabeth Perkins 62Elizabeth Perkins 63Elizabeth Perkins 64Elizabeth Perkins 65Elizabeth Perkins 66Elizabeth Perkins 67Elizabeth Perkins 68Elizabeth Perkins 69Elizabeth Perkins 70Elizabeth Perkins 71Elizabeth Perkins 72Elizabeth Perkins 73Elizabeth Perkins 74Elizabeth Perkins 75Elizabeth Perkins 76Elizabeth Perkins 77Elizabeth Perkins 78Elizabeth Perkins 79Elizabeth Perkins 80Elizabeth Perkins 81Elizabeth Perkins 82Elizabeth Perkins 83Elizabeth Perkins 84Elizabeth Perkins 85Elizabeth Perkins 86Elizabeth Perkins 87Elizabeth Perkins 88Elizabeth Perkins 89Elizabeth Perkins 90Elizabeth Perkins 91Elizabeth Perkins 92Elizabeth Perkins 93Elizabeth Perkins 94

Elizabeth Perkins as Celia Hodes (season 3) - Photo: Mark Seliger - Photo ID: weeds_gal3-epsingles-111

Elizabeth Perkins as Celia Hodes (season 3) – Photo: Mark Seliger – Photo ID: weeds_gal3-epsingles-111

Elizabeth Perkins 96Elizabeth Perkins 97Elizabeth Perkins 98Elizabeth Perkins 99Elizabeth Perkins 100Elizabeth Perkins 101Elizabeth Taylor 1Elizabeth Taylor 2Elizabeth Taylor 3Elizabeth Taylor 4Elizabeth Taylor 5Elizabeth Taylor 6Elizabeth Taylor 7Elizabeth Taylor 8Elizabeth Taylor 9Elizabeth Taylor 10Elizabeth Taylor 11Elizabeth Taylor 12Elizabeth Taylor 13Elizabeth Taylor 14Elizabeth Taylor 15Elizabeth Taylor 16Elizabeth Taylor 17Elizabeth Taylor 18Elizabeth Taylor 19Elizabeth Taylor 20Elizabeth Taylor 21Elizabeth Taylor 22Elizabeth Taylor 23Elizabeth Taylor 24Elizabeth Taylor 25Elizabeth Taylor 26Gina LollobrigidaGinger Young

Helen HayesIda Lupinoidentity unknown 1identity unknown 2identity unknown 3identity unknown 4identity unknown 5Jacqueline SchererJane Adams 1Jane Adams 2Jane Adams 3Jane Adams 4Jane Adams 5Jane Adams 6Jane Adams 7Jane Adams 8Jane Adams 9Jane Adams 10Jane Adams 11Jane Adams 12Jane Adams 13Jane Adams 14Jane Adams 15Jane Adams 16Jane Adams 17Jane Adams 18Jane Adams 19Jane Adams 20Jane Adams 21Jane Randolph 1Jane Randolph 2Jane Randolph 3Jane Randolph 4Jane Randolph 5Jane Randolph 6Jane Randolph 7Jane Randolph 8Jane Randolph 9Jane Randolph 10Jane Randolph 11Jane Randolph 12Jane Randolph 13Jane Randolph 14Jane Randolph 15Jane Randolph 16Jane Randolph 17Jane Randolph 18Jane Randolph 19Jane Randolph 20Jane Randolph 21Jane Randolph 22Jane Randolph 23Jane Randolph 24Jane Randolph 25Jane Randolph 26Jane Randolph 27Jane Randolph 28Jane Randolph 29Jane Randolph 30Jane Randolph 31Jane Randolph 32Jane Randolph 33Jane Randolph 34Jane Randolph 35Jane Randolph 36Jane Randolph 37Jane Randolph 38Jane Randolph 39Jane Randolph 40Jane Randolph 41Jane WymanJane RussellJean SimmonsJoan BennettJulie BishopJustynaLana del ReyLenore Aubert 1Lenore Aubert 2Lenore Aubert 3Lenore Aubert 4Lenore Aubert 5Lenore Aubert 6Lenore Aubert 7Lenore Aubert 8Lenore Aubert 9Lenore Aubert 10Lenore Aubert 11Lenore Aubert 12Lenore Aubert 13Lenore Aubert 14Lenore Aubert 15Lenore Aubert 16

Lenore Aubert 17Lenore Aubert 18Lenore Aubert 19Lenore Aubert 20

Vintage portrait of actress Edith Atwater by Clarence Sinclair Bull, 1930's.

Vintage portrait of actress Edith Atwater by Clarence Sinclair Bull, 1930’s.

Loretta YoungMajel Barrett 1Majel Barrett 2

Majel Roddenberry Photo

Majel Roddenberry Photo

Maria Palmer 1Maria Palmer 2Maria Palmer 3Maria Palmer 4Maria Palmer 5Maria Palmer 6Maria Palmer 7Marie Windsor 1Marie Windsor 2Martha VickersMoira Shearer 1Moira Shearer 2Moira Shearer 3Moira Shearer 4Moira Shearer 5Moira Shearer 6Moira Shearer 7Moira Shearer 8Moira Shearer 9Moira Shearer 10

Moira Shearer, dancer and actress *** Local Caption *** Moira Shearer;

Moira Shearer, dancer and actress *** Local Caption *** Moira Shearer;

Moira Shearer 12Moira Shearer 13Moira Shearer 14Moira Shearer 15Moira Shearer 16Moira Shearer 17Moira Shearer 18Moira Shearer 19

by Yousuf Karsh, bromide print, 1954

by Yousuf Karsh, bromide print, 1954

Moira Shearer 21Moira Shearer 22Moira Shearer 23

1948: Scottish ballerina Moira Shearer plays dancer Victoria Page in the classic film 'The Red Shoes', directed by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger for GFD/The Archers. (Photo by Baron/Getty Images)

1948: Scottish ballerina Moira Shearer plays dancer Victoria Page in the classic film ‘The Red Shoes’, directed by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger for GFD/The Archers. (Photo by Baron/Getty Images)

Norma ShearerPeggy Moran (R)Rosalind RussellRosella Towne 1Rosella Towne 2Rosella Towne 3Rosella Towne 4Rosella Towne 5Rosella Towne 6Rosella Towne 7Rosella Towne 8Rosella Towne 9Rosella Towne 10Rosella Towne 11

Mary McDonoughShirley TempleTaylor SwiftTina LouiseVeronica Lake 1Veronica Lake 2Yvonne De Carlo 1Yvonne De Carlo 2Yvonne De Carlo 3

Black and white photo of Yvonne Decarlo, the original Lily Munster, colorized

Black and white photo of Yvonne Decarlo, the original Lily Munster, colorized

Yvonne De Carlo 5


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