“The Best Wife” Any Intelligent Man Could Dream of Or Desire, Or Even Wish For. And Then Fuk It All Up–I Can Certainly Relate.
And Y’all Know I Am A Sucker For A Good-Lookin’ Broad With Brains…
Martha was the best of ALL The Rest
Martha on Ernest:
“He was about as useful as a stuffed squirrel.”
Cred for Vid: Biographics
Martha and Hem:
“She was here,” I want to shout. “And she was extraordinary.”
–Hem
QUIT DRINKING ALCOHOL –
Easily Said.
Impossibly Done
One of The Most Eye Opening Motivational Videos Ever
Credit: MotivationHub
***
My day as an Active alcoholic | Withdrawals | Alcohol damages your body
Street Cred: 1Sober2Another
***
Damn Waste–That He Blew His Head Off With A Shotgun! Why, Oh Why? Why Did He Rob Us–Of All The Words Which Still Remained In His Head? Why!?? Asshole!”
ERNEST HEMINGWAY EXPLAINED:
Yeah, In My Humble Way, I Can Too Much Relate.
And, Sorry About The Rather Longish Commercial, But It Would Be Un-Gracious Of Me To ‘Edit’ It Out–
So I Won’t
Cred-For-Vid: Sisyphus 55
Sisyphus 55
***
A Guide To Alcoholism & Addiction
Damn Waste–That He Blew His Head Off With A Shotgun–Good I Don’t Have A Shotgun. For I May Have Been ‘Tempted’ ‘Lured’ Into Doing ‘The Right Thing’–And Going Out With Honor
Just Like Hem
Bonnie Tyler – She Needs A HeroI
Thought I could Fill That Role When I was
(X2–Always Gotta Get THAT In)
Attending Navy SEAL Training
Ever’One Needs a Hero/Role Model to ‘Model’ One’s Life By.
Hemingway Will Always Be “My Go-To Guy–
Always, Until That Day I Die
A Guide To Alcoholism & Addiction
***
“The way into understanding him is through the relationships with women in his life.”
— Lynn Novick
“I can’t imagine how toxic it must have been to have been around him.”
–-Ken Burns.
“I can easily imagine it.”
—Lance Marcom
“All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.”
–Hem
“I could only care about people a very few at a time.”
–-Hem
“Wherever he was. Whatever he was doing. Alcohol fueled everything.”
–Ken Burns.
“I have drunk since I was fifteen and few things have given me more pleasure.”
–Hem
I Whole-Heatedly Concur Ernest–Yep I Do
–Lance Marcom
***
She shot very well this good, this rich bitch, this kindly caretaker and destroyer of his talent. Nonsense. He had destroyed his talent himself. Why should he blame this woman because she kept him well? He had destroyed his talent by not using it, by betrayals of himself and what he believed in, by drinking so much that he blunted the edge of his perceptions, by laziness, by sloth, and by snobbery, by pride and by prejudice, by hook and by crook.
What was this? A catalogue of old books? What was his talent anyway? It was a talent all right but instead of using it, he had traded on it. It was never what he had done, but always what he could do. And he had chosen to make his living with something else instead of a pen or a pencil.
It was strange, too, wasn’t it, that when he fell in love with another woman, that woman should always have more money than the last one? But when he no longer was in love, when he was only lying, as to this woman, now, who had the most money of all, who had all the money there was, who had had a husband and children, who had taken lovers and been dissatisfied with them, and who loved him dearly as a writer, as a man, as a companion and as a proud possession; it was strange that when he did not love her at all and was lying, that he should be able to give her more for her money than when he had really loved.
–“The Snows of Kilimanjaro”
***
It was now about three o‟clock in the morning and Francis Macomber,
who had been asleep a little while after he had stopped thinking about
the lion, wakened and then slept again, woke suddenly, frightened in a
dream of the bloody-headed lion standing over him, and listening while
his heart pounded, he realized that his wife was not in the other cot in
the tent. He lay awake with the knowledge of two hours.
At the end of that time his wife came into the tent, lifted her mosquito
bar and crawled cozily into bed.
“Where have you been?” Macomber asked in the darkness.
“Hello,” she said. “Are you awake?”
“Where have you been?”
“I just went out to get a breath of air.”
“You did, like hell.”
“What do you want me to say, darling?”
“Where have you been?”
“Out to get a breath of air.”
“That‟s a new name for it. You are a bitch.”
“Well, you‟re coward.”
“All right,” he said. “What of it?”
–“The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber“
****
“I would rather have one honest enemy than most of the friends I have known.”
–Hem
Internet Will NOT Allow Me to Down-Load/ Steal This! Grrrrr!!! Nor Even ‘Credit it! Fuk U Internet! Trust Me Kids; I WILL Find ‘A Work-Around–I ALWAYS dO!
Was Ernest Hemingway a Misogynist? | PBS
https://www.britannica.com/biography/Edna-OBrien
****
Naw! Impossible! For You See, I Don’t Own A TV,
And Even If I Did, I Would Never Watch It.
“I’m gonna blow this damn candle out.
I don’t want nobody comin’ over to my table;
I got nothin’ to talk to anybody about.”
***
Oh Screw It! I’m an Alcoholic.
At Least I know what I am
and who I am.
And who I am Not
But I Yam What I Yam:
I’m Popeye The Drunken Sailor-Man.
Who Among You,
Could’ve Seen That One Coming?
Hahaha!
HOLLYWOOD! Up-Dated!! Re-Visit This One Y’all. It is fucking Awesome! The Vids! The Vids! The Vids! Ignore My Prose! Watch the Videos!
“The way into understanding him is through the relationships with women in his life.”
— Lynn Novick
“I can’t imagine how toxic it must have been to have been around him.”
–-Ken Burns.
“I can easily imagine it.”
—Lance Marcom
“All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.”
–Hem
“I could only care about people a very few at a time.”
–-Hem
“Wherever he was. Whatever he was doing. Alcohol fueled everything.”
–Ken Burns.
“I have drunk since I was fifteen and few things have given me more pleasure.”
–Hem
***
She shot very well this good, this rich bitch, this kindly caretaker and destroyer of his talent. Nonsense. He had destroyed his talent himself. Why should he blame this woman because she kept him well? He had destroyed his talent by not using it, by betrayals of himself and what he believed in, by drinking so much that he blunted the edge of his perceptions, by laziness, by sloth, and by snobbery, by pride and by prejudice, by hook and by crook.
What was this? A catalogue of old books? What was his talent anyway? It was a talent all right but instead of using it, he had traded on it. It was never what he had done, but always what he could do. And he had chosen to make his living with something else instead of a pen or a pencil.
It was strange, too, wasn’t it, that when he fell in love with another woman, that woman should always have more money than the last one? But when he no longer was in love, when he was only lying, as to this woman, now, who had the most money of all, who had all the money there was, who had had a husband and children, who had taken lovers and been dissatisfied with them, and who loved him dearly as a writer, as a man, as a companion and as a proud possession; it was strange that when he did not love her at all and was lying, that he should be able to give her more for her money than when he had really loved.
–“The Snows of Kilimanjaro”
***
It was now about three o‟clock in the morning and Francis Macomber,
who had been asleep a little while after he had stopped thinking about
the lion, wakened and then slept again, woke suddenly, frightened in a
dream of the bloody-headed lion standing over him, and listening while
his heart pounded, he realized that his wife was not in the other cot in
the tent. He lay awake with the knowledge of two hours.
At the end of that time his wife came into the tent, lifted her mosquito
bar and crawled cozily into bed.
“Where have you been?” Macomber asked in the darkness.
“Hello,” she said. “Are you awake?”
“Where have you been?”
“I just went out to get a breath of air.”
“You did, like hell.”
“What do you want me to say, darling?”
“Where have you been?”
“Out to get a breath of air.”
“That‟s a new name for it. You are a bitch.”
“Well, you‟re coward.”
“All right,” he said. “What of it?”
–“The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber“
****
“I would rather have one honest enemy than most of the friends I have known.”
–Hem
https://www.pbs.org/kenburns/hemingway/women-and-gender
****
I ADORE MADONNA!
(And I Ain’t Even Gay!)
“Woolworth Rhinestone Diamond Earrings
And a Sideways Glance”
Greatest lyric in the History of lyrics
“The way into understanding him is through the relationships with women in his life.”
— Lynn Novick
“I can’t imagine how toxic it must have been to have been around him.”
–-Ken Burns.
“I can easily imagine it.”
—Lance Marcom
“All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.”
–Hem
“I could only care about people a very few at a time.”
–-Hem
“Wherever he was. Whatever he was doing. Alcohol fueled everything.”
–Ken Burns.
“I have been drunk since I was fifteen and few things have given me more pleasure.”
–Hem
***
She shot very well this good, this rich bitch, this kindly caretaker and destroyer of his talent. Nonsense. He had destroyed his talent himself. Why should he blame this woman because she kept him well? He had destroyed his talent by not using it, by betrayals of himself and what he believed in, by drinking so much that he blunted the edge of his perceptions, by laziness, by sloth, and by snobbery, by pride and by prejudice, by hook and by crook.
What was this? A catalogue of old books? What was his talent anyway? It was a talent all right but instead of using it, he had traded on it. It was never what he had done, but always what he could do. And he had chosen to make his living with something else instead of a pen or a pencil.
It was strange, too, wasn’t it, that when he fell in love with another woman, that woman should always have more money than the last one? But when he no longer was in love, when he was only lying, as to this woman, now, who had the most money of all, who had all the money there was, who had had a husband and children, who had taken lovers and been dissatisfied with them, and who loved him dearly as a writer, as a man, as a companion and as a proud possession; it was strange that when he did not love her at all and was lying, that he should be able to give her more for her money than when he had really loved.
–“The Snows of Kilimanjaro”
***
It was now about three o‟clock in the morning and Francis Macomber,
who had been asleep a little while after he had stopped thinking about
the lion, wakened and then slept again, woke suddenly, frightened in a
dream of the bloody-headed lion standing over him, and listening while
his heart pounded, he realized that his wife was not in the other cot in
the tent. He lay awake with the knowledge of two hours.
At the end of that time his wife came into the tent, lifted her mosquito
bar and crawled cozily into bed.
“Where have you been?” Macomber asked in the darkness.
“Hello,” she said. “Are you awake?”
“Where have you been?”
“I just went out to get a breath of air.”
“You did, like hell.”
“What do you want me to say, darling?”
“Where have you been?”
“Out to get a breath of air.”
“That‟s a new name for it. You are a bitch.”
“Well, you‟re coward.”
“All right,” he said. “What of it?”
–“The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber“
****
“I would rather have one honest enemy than most of the friends I have known.”
–Hem
Watch this Below!
Dammit! Just Fuckin’ Do it!
Was Ernest Hemingway a Misogynist?
Naw!
He Wern’t
Fuckin’ Sneeze Louise
I am an Idiot/Accident
Goin’ Somewhere to Happen
But I’ve Got Three More Bottles of Whine
So Screw You!
I Love Emmy-Lou
****
This is the BEST Vid in the History of Vid
Greatest Drunks of All Time:
Ernest Hemingway
“Honey, Drinking is War”
Cred for Vid: Jesse Egan
***********
“The way into understanding him is through the relationships with women in his life.”
— Lynn Novick
“I can’t imagine how toxic it must have been to have been around him.”
–-Ken Burns.
“I can easily imagine it.”
—Lance Marcom
“All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.”
–Hem
“I could only care about people a very few at a time.”
–-Hem
“Wherever he was. Whatever he was doing. Alcohol fueled everything.”
–Ken Burns.
“I have drunk since I was fifteen and few things have given me more pleasure.”
–Hem
***
She shot very well this good, this rich bitch, this kindly caretaker and destroyer of his talent. Nonsense. He had destroyed his talent himself. Why should he blame this woman because she kept him well? He had destroyed his talent by not using it, by betrayals of himself and what he believed in, by drinking so much that he blunted the edge of his perceptions, by laziness, by sloth, and by snobbery, by pride and by prejudice, by hook and by crook.
What was this? A catalogue of old books? What was his talent anyway? It was a talent all right but instead of using it, he had traded on it. It was never what he had done, but always what he could do. And he had chosen to make his living with something else instead of a pen or a pencil.
It was strange, too, wasn’t it, that when he fell in love with another woman, that woman should always have more money than the last one? But when he no longer was in love, when he was only lying, as to this woman, now, who had the most money of all, who had all the money there was, who had had a husband and children, who had taken lovers and been dissatisfied with them, and who loved him dearly as a writer, as a man, as a companion and as a proud possession; it was strange that when he did not love her at all and was lying, that he should be able to give her more for her money than when he had really loved.
–“The Snows of Kilimanjaro”
***
It was now about three o‟clock in the morning and Francis Macomber,
who had been asleep a little while after he had stopped thinking about
the lion, wakened and then slept again, woke suddenly, frightened in a
dream of the bloody-headed lion standing over him, and listening while
his heart pounded, he realized that his wife was not in the other cot in
the tent. He lay awake with the knowledge of two hours.
At the end of that time his wife came into the tent, lifted her mosquito
bar and crawled cozily into bed.
“Where have you been?” Macomber asked in the darkness.
“Hello,” she said. “Are you awake?”
“Where have you been?”
“I just went out to get a breath of air.”
“You did, like hell.”
“What do you want me to say, darling?”
“Where have you been?”
“Out to get a breath of air.”
“That‟s a new name for it. You are a bitch.”
“Well, you‟re coward.”
“All right,” he said. “What of it?”
–“The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber“
****
“I would rather have one honest enemy than most of the friends I have known.”
–Hem
Writer Edna O’Brien on Hemingway’s View of Women: PBS:
****
This Show is Over
Say “Goodbye.”
“All the World Is A Stage”
Take A Bow