In this still from the film, the director intended to layer the scene with a number of intricate but subtle subtexts about society. (Over-population, climate change, the awkwardness of not realizing you are in a gay bar until you’ve tried flirting with the wrong people, the many cows who gave their lives for the wardrobe.) Sadly, most viewers never made it past the architectural bizarreness of Rita’s coiffure.
Rita: “Stop looking at me like that.”
Beer Bottle: “I’m sorry. I’ve just never seen that much hair in one place. Did they have to lower you in through the skylight?”
Rita: “Not you, you tosser. I mean the bell-end at the laptop over there.”
Beer Bottle, turning to me: “Hey, mate. The White Cliff of Dover is talking to you.”
Me, startled, looking up: “I’m just trying to write a story here. And that works a lot better when the characters don’t talk back.”
Rita: “Yeah? Well, I’m just waitin’ on me fish and chips and I don’t need company. So unless you’re deep fryin’ a piece of cod on that laptop, you can bugger off.”
Randy Travis, faded American country singer, wandering in from the right: “Hey, girl. You seem to have a lot of anger management issues and I l know a little bit about that. Would you like me to warble you a song so you can find Jesus again? It worked for me after they found me nekkid and drunk in a Texas parking lot. Always go to Jesus when the po-po show up and you ain’t got no underwear.”
Rita: “If you say one more word I will cut you. Not that you’ll feel it.”
The twins behind Rita stop flirting and join the train wreck. Twin One: “Sweetie, Drunk Randy is right. That hair is screaming about a life of pain and neglect. You can’t keep your emotions bottled up like the bleach you apparently use every day.” Twin Two: “Let it all out, sister. We’re in this together and there is no judgment until we sober up.”
A single tear suddenly slid down Rita’s left cheek, perhaps signaling an emotional epiphany, perhaps merely escaping Hairmageddon. “Well, it has been a rough ride, and not just for my pillow at night.”
Twin One: “You’re preaching to the choir. Give us the full sermon while I order another round.”
Twin Two: “Just let me know if you need any backing vocals. I’m here to testify.”
Rita: “Okay. Um, it all started when my parents, Paul von Hindenburg and Gustave Eiffel, had a child out of wedlock and…”
Previously published, slight changes made. Yes, I know this one only works if you get the references and you happen to be just as twisted as me…
Categories: Humor
Bonnywood Manor 
Heavy on the hairspray! Its no wonder Rita has that glazed look in her eyes- she can’t close them thanks to the Extra Strong Schwartzkopf overspray. I had to go Google on the pre Hitler chancellor, though Eiffel should have been obvious. Not obvious enough for this dumbkopf/buffoon though.
Is this photo from ‘The Leather Boys?’ The outfits should make obvious, but again, as I say, call me clueless.
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Yep, this is a still from “The Leather Boys”. As such, it was imperative that I throw in a rainbow angle, but there was really no overcoming the overspray, and the spotlight had to remain there…
I highly disagree that you are a buffoon to any degree, but we’ll save that for our future group-therapy sessions, because you know they will eventually transpire. (Therapist: “Let’s discuss your addiction to WordPress.” Both of the patients immediately burst into tears.)
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Yeah… sigh… to paraphrase some forgotten old song ‘You can try to log out, but you can never blogging leave.’
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In addition to the hair, there’s an overload of leather.
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Those poor cows…
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You learn something new every day: I never knew Randy Travis had played the Ace Cafe 🤣
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And really, I don’t think Randy Travis remembers it, either. (He’s truly a mess these days, what with that drunken nakedness, poor thing.) But that’s GOT to be him, right there with his fringed ascot, right?
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Does he remember anything? Looks like him, though…
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Also, the dude in the background squeezing his zit looks a bit Jaggerish too. How far is the Ace Cafe from the Marquee Club?
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I hadn’t seen that!
Nowhere near. Marquee is in Central London, Ace Cafe is just off the North Circular, the outer ring road across north London, about ten miles from the centre. Both iconic in their own way.
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Ah, ta. I’m only familiar with London through songs such as ‘Waterloo Sunset’ ‘Going Underground’ and watching the Wombles. And one night very tight accomodation at Earls Court and Paddington respectively
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It’s a big place! I’ve never actually been to either of them but I used to work near the Ace and drove past many times. It has been reconfigured to be more of an entertainment venue than a cafe nowadays.
Used to work near Paddington too. We moved offices a fair bit!
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Always been a place of wonder and mystery to me.Those swinging sixties images, all thigh high boots and Carnaby Street left a lasting (lusting?) image on an impressionable young growing lad worlds away!
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They were great times though I lived outside London so never really experienced it at its peak. Carnaby Street is just round the corner from where the Marquee was, though the club is now long gone. Those images were part of my teen years too.
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Always having been a big hair girl, I’m thinking that do must have its own SAG card.
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That do probably has its own country.
You’ve always been a big hair gal? I never knew that. [He says with tongue firmly in cheek, scrolling through past photos on your blog and perusing all the acid-washed documentary evidence.] 😉
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Me and my can of Aqua Net are ready for the 80’s to swing back into fashion…
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You never know what’s going to happen when you have conversations with the characters. Especially the narcissistic, melancholy type.
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Agreed. Nothing good can come from imagining that your characters are actually real and can speak to you. Even worse, though? Transcribing those conversations into a blog post and sharing it with the world. I really need to have a chat with my pharmacist… 😉
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I really *did* get distracted by the hair😲
She was obviously way before her time in the coiffure department. A quick look through photos from the 80s will show much of the same love of ozone depleting aresols, combined with chemically altered stylists trying to be “creative”
Maybe she was hoping one of the Leather Boys could help fix that mess so she could get lucky at the Redneck Bar & Gun Shop across town🤷🏼♀️
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When I was teaching back in the 80s, there were a few of the students who spent a lot of time on blond coiffure. Their career goals were to become hairdressers to the stars, country western I guess.
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Angie: Right? One gander at that hairdo and any serious contemplation of the artistry of the film flies out the window. I can’t NOT look at it. But you’re probably right. Rita was likely desperate for some quality man-time and she sought counseling.
Angie and elmediat: I’ve rambled about this before, but it’s a maxim that holds true: If you came of age in Oklahoma in the 70s and early 80s, the one constant in your life was the fact that nearly every vehicle you hopped into would have at least one can of Aqua Net rolling around under the driver’s seat. The gals (and certain select guys) never went ANYWHERE without follicle-height-enhancing products nearby…
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That hairdo looks like it landed on her head after a long trip from a galaxy far, far away.
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And it’s entirely possible that said hairdo is the intergalactic spaceship that she traveled on…
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That sounds like an adventure of Dr. Who – The March Hair of The Madness of Mega-Char.
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Or a lost episode of “Little House on the Prairie” that was wisely shelved before it was aired….
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