Niagara

I watched Niagara last night, which, strangely, I'd never seen. Among other things, it made me pleased that I was not around in 1953. It certainly seems as though it was a very tiresome time to be anyone's wife.

It did raise some interesting questions though.

1. How did Marilyn Monroe wear that much glossy lipstick in bed without getting it on the sheets?





















2. How did 1953 fashions make women look so fantastic while making men look so extremely silly?

3. Why is wearing a rented raincoat and galoshes and being hit in the face with waterfall spray romantic?


But mostly, 4. How are we to believe that this lovely, good natured, sensible woman

(Sadly, I can't figure out how to get the full picture to show up, but if you click on it, you may gaze upon her whole face.)



would ever be married to this dull-witted, big toothed, braying oaf? (Here is a little montage courtesy of AndiBGoode of his idiotic mug. Look at him closely and Imagine him talking too loud, telling his wife to stick her tits out, chortling with his boss, or getting all excited about the Shredded Wheat company where he works. Because he is good at all those things.)