The Times of Bill Cunningham Dailymotion 
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country=USA
Audience Score=42 Votes
brief=A new feature film documentary about legendary NYTimes photographer Bill Cunningham
Genre=Documentary
2018
Mark Bozek
East Coast men are always so classy, especially those that live in Manhattan. Bill. Bill. Bill. Chill. He's using the asian sightseeing tourist stereotype deliberately as a disguise, what a genius xD. Oh no. i'm sad to learn this. The times of bill cunningham watch online show. The times of bill cunningham watch online series.The times of bill cunningham watch online episodes. Hi guys! Here's my compilation of the models from Cycle 2. This time it was a bit harder since a number of them have gotten married and have used their husband's last name. Also, there is a 40k character limit that I didn't know about (sue me lol), so I can no longer include the links to the pictures. Most of the girls' portfolio mentioned below is available on Name: Anna Bradfield, née Capilli Placed: 12th Age: 38 First Call Outs: 0 Bottom 2: 1 Twitter Followers: N/A Instagram Followers: 1306 (@annamariecapilli) Anna Bradfield on IMDB ANTM CYCLE 2 Anna appeared on the show as a plus-sized model on America’s Next Top Model, Cycle 2, and was one of the 12 girls chosen to compete in the finals. During her brief stay in the show, her fellow Top Model finalist, Xiomara Frans, gave Anna the pet name “Momma” because of her maternal nature toward the girls. Anna was the first to be eliminated from the show after she refused to do the first photo shoot with Nigel Barker. The challenge was to pose as “Eve, ” therefore requiring the girls to strip down. The girls would be posing alongside a male model (who is supposed to play “Adam”), whom would be naked as well. Even though each girl would be painted from head to toe, Anna felt that only her husband has the right to see her with no clothes, thus, she refused to do the nude photo shoot. POST-TOP MODEL After Cycle 2, Anna has done print work for Erin London, Forshe Boutique, Robin Callender, Anthony R. Lloyd, The Cotrice Collection, Lila couture bridal gowns, La Bella Vie Boutique, Nicci Hou Afrique Collection, Ruffs & Cuffs, Belk, Salon Next, Bernhardt Huntington Collection Catalogue, Aveva Activewear, and has been featured on She has appeared in spreads for in the Spring 2011 issue of Hopelessly Romantic Magazine, Runway Magazine, the Oct/Nov 2011 issue of Oz Magazine, the March 2012 issue of Jezebel Magazine, and has appeared in ads for Fevour cosmetics, Goldilox Hair House, Bashinski Fine Gems & Jewelry, Cadieux Interiors: The Salon Collection, and Body Design Personal Training. She is currently raising 2 boys. Aside from modeling, she is currently practicing as a registered dental hygienist. She was allegedly also featured in a few Tyler Perry films, but I’ve yet to come across any proof of these. Name: Bethany Jacobs, née Harrison Placed: 11th Age: 36 (Going 37 this Nov 20th) First Call Outs: 0 Bottom 2: 1 Twitter Followers: N/A Instagram Followers: N/A Bethany Harrison on IMDB ANTM CYCLE 2 On Cycle 2, she was the most well-endowed model out of the ten girls, but her heavy chest was not the reason why Bethany was the second to go home from the show. Her photos were strong, but her performance in front of the camera didn’t impress the judges as the competition progressed. The judges felt that Bethany lacked the versatility that all models need in order to succeed in the fashion industry. Furthermore, she was criticized for not being able to look ‘high fashion’ enough in her photos. POST-TOP MODEL After the show, Bethany has remained relatively mum. She was featured in Totally Texas Calendar, but that seems to be the end of her modeling career. Her facebook says that she was the former Event Director the Good Company Armadillo Palace in Houston, Texas from 2007 until 2016. The ANTM Cycle 2 wikipedia states that she was married, however, I believe that the relationship the page is referring MAY have ended. There are photos on her facebook which show that that she was recently married to Chris Jacob in 2016, and by the time this is posted, she must’ve given birth to their first child together (her facebook lists her as 7 months and 1 week pregnant as of September 2017). EDIT: Bethany has given birth to twin girls. Name: Heather McClure, née Blumberg Placed: 10th Age: 32 First Call Outs: 0 Bottom 2: 1 Twitter Followers: 3 (@BlumbergHeather) ← Not totally sure if this twitter is hers (and just abandoned) Instagram Followers: 186 (@_heather24) Heather Blumberg on IMDB ANTM CYCLE 2 When Heather became a finalist on America’s Next Top Model, Cycle 2, she was known for her upbeat personality and perky behavior. Even though she had such a likeable personality, Heather had a hard time becoming friends with the other girls and often felt like an outcast. Even though Heather maintained strong performance, she became the third contestant to be eliminated from the show. The judges really felt Heather looked too much like a teenager to have a professional career in the industry. POST-TOP MODEL And I thought Bethany was off the grid. Heather was even more difficult to find on social media. It seems that she has abandoned modeling and is working as a full time Nurse. Since the show, she has gotten married and now goes by Heather McClure. Her husband, Jeff McClure, is a realtor in California. They have no children yet, however, they own a yorkshire who goes by the name Princess Fiona. Not much is known about Heather post- Top Model, though her last instagram update shows that she has had lash extensions. Name: Jenascia Carter, née Chakos Placed: 9th Age: 35 First Call Outs: 0 Bottom 2: 2 Twitter Followers: 1304 (@Jenascia) Instagram Followers: 1617 (@jenas1a) Jenascia Chakos on IMDB ANTM CYCLE 2 Standing 5 feet, 7 inches, Jenascia was the shortest among the 12 Finalists in America’s Next Top Model, Cycle 2. For the first photo, Jenascia arrived three hours late because the other models did not wake her up when it was time to leave. She felt betrayed by all of them, especially by fellow Top Model finalist, April, whom she had helped the day before. She was not eliminated for being tardy, but was cut out off the show on the fourth week after failing to compensate for her lack of height. POST-TOP MODEL After the show, Jenascia returned to her job at Hooters and gave birth to a child in 2007. She has appeared in a few Seattle calendars and taken some test shots. She appeared in the Feb 2009 issue of DList Magazine. In January of 2010, Jenascia appeared as a contestant on Wheel of Fortune, where she won just under $50, 000. In 2013, she was featured as a stylist in a BTS video of DList magazine shoot starring Cycle 23 winner, India Gants. In the same year, she also modeled for the Spring 2013 collection of the Rich Kids Brand. Nowadays, she works as an esthetician in SET, a Seattle based Waxing Salon, where she is known as The Vagine Queen of Seattle. She has also worked as a Fashion Director for DList Magazine from 2009 up until 2013. She married her boyfriend, Evan Lee Carter, in July 2017. She is also raising her child, TJ, from a previous relationship. She also has a cat named Tiiva and a dog named Bernice. Name: Xiomara Cuber, née Frans Placed: 8th Age: 39 First Call Outs: 0 Bottom 2: 2 Twitter Followers: 209 (@xiomiofficial) Instagram Followers: N/A Xiomara Frans on IMDB ANTM CYCLE 2 As a finalist for America’s Next Top Model Cycle 2, Xiomara showed a lot of potential during the first few challenges in the show, but come the fifth week, was eliminated when her photos from the underwater photo shoot failed to impress the judges. Her walk was also criticized, having done so with her eyes unconventionally “bugging out. ” Despite not being able to captivate the judges for a long time, her great personality and kindness won the hearts of the other girls in the finals. POST-TOP MODEL After her stint on ANTM, Xiomara (who goes by the name Xiomi these days) signed with New York’s Boss Model Management and has modeled for the likes of Carmen Marc Valvo, Terani Couture, and has also appeared in the New York Post Latino Issue, the 5th issue of TDInk Magazine, Lucier Magazine, as well as grace the cover and pages in the May/Jun 2016 issue of STS Luxury Style Magazine. She has appeared in the 2017 horror film Terrifier and will appear in the film Rounded in 2018. She chose to put a pause on her modeling career to focus on school. After obtaining her degree, the New Jersey native is currently pursuing her Masters’ Degree as a Nurse Practitioner and also works alongside her husband, Dr. Shain Cuber, one of NY/NJ’s busiest plastic surgeons. Xiomi has worked as an aesthetic and dermatologic nurse, and it was then that she realized that she wanted to concentrate on coaching women in order to achieve their best self from the inside out. She has a website, which focus on beauty, health, lifestyle, and wellness. “The website is based around me giving advice to women about different things. It incorporates both my clinical and beauty expertise; so you get the health tips and resources, as well as beauty tips, because I have the qualifications, ” says Xiomara, “For me, it is important to be authentic because there are some others that claim to be health and beauty experts, but don’t really have the credentials. I’d like to be a resource for these women that wouldn’t go online and search for evidence based research articles, or have the time to read books on health, nutrition, beauty and wellness. ” Name: Catie Anderson Placed: 7th Age: 32 First Call Outs: 1 Bottom 2: 2 Twitter Followers: N/A Instagram Followers: N/A Catie Anderson on IMDB ANTM CYCLE 2 As a finalist for America’s Next Top Model Cycle 2, many people thought that Catie would become the second winner of the show, but she ended up being the sixth contestant eliminated because she failed to produce a good black and white photograph. In addition, her emotional instability served as a hindrance to her growth. POST-TOP MODEL Catie is another one of those girls who have kept a relatively low online profile since the show ended in 2004. After appearing on the show, Catie has gone on to walk the runway in fashion shows like Alan Del Rosario (2007), Louis Verdad (2004), and California Market Center’s Direction (Spring 2005), L. A. Bikini Show (2005), Yves Castaldi (2008), Alan Del Rosario’s Bow and Arrow (Fall 2008). She has graced the p
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One of a kind! RIP Bill. Sorry Bob nob. How could she not tell he was gay? His mannerisms say it all. Love this guy. great very consumate. 
I'm a fan of Bill Cunningham because of his integrity and life values. Thank you for sharing.Content Unavailable Sorry, this video is not currently available. (2011) ? 1 hr 24 min NR Documentary A profile of the noted and extraordinarily cheerful veteran New York City fashion photographer. DIRECTOR Richard Press STARRING Catherine Deneuve Anna Wintour Iris Apfel Mike Wallace COMPANY Careers News Press Inquiries SUPPORT Contact Support Help Center Supported Devices Activate Your Device PARTNERS Advertise With Us Partnerships Content Submission GET THE APPS iOS Android Roku Amazon Fire LEGAL Terms of Use Privacy Policy Do Not Sell My Personal Information Copyright © 2020 Tubi, Inc. Tubi is a registered trademark of Tubi, Inc. All rights reserved. Device ID: 05b170a7-4250-41e9-a519-968cc41c2773 Made with in San Francisco.
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Nasty your step sister really... Tuesday Afternoon in Balrahan. They’re hanging on his every word again, the fucker. He’s some boyo. Owes me a couple of hundred of course, but look, I won’t go askin’. Not in front of the rest of them. He’s good for it. I also know by the look of him he had one or two last night and it wasn’t here. But I’ll say nothin’. You need lads like him around the place. Full of life, full of stories, keeps the place ticking over. His high stool seems higher than theirs. Huge hands waving, gesturing, engaging them all. They love him. Plenty don’t. The thing about Devlin Mahon is, he doesn’t give a shite what any man in this town has to say about him, and shure isn’t he right too? I must’ve heard this one twenty times at this stage. Argentina. 1984. Work trip. Mahon’s just married. Lands himself a spot on some game show. Talks himself into it of course. Talks himself into a ride with the co-hostess too. She’s a big deal seemingly. Married to some soccer player or other. Anyway they’re caught on camera. Pictures all over some rag the next day. In Argen-fuckin-tina of all places. Tells them how he had to pull strings to make sure the word didn’t cross the sea. Bla, bla, bla. And then… ‘I waited to tell that one for fourteen years, until she saw sense and ran off. ’ Takes a long, indulgent gulp. Glass down hard. ‘Fuck all she can do about it now. ’ Roars of approval. Back slaps, attempted handshakes. The new ones love it. Those who’ve already heard it shake their heads and nod approvingly. The craft of the story. How true it is, I don’t know, but I wouldn’t put it past him. Anyway, why let the truth in the way of a good story? ‘An’ how’s that young one from The Jazz getting’ on Mahon? Lookin’ well when I seen ‘er th’other day, she was. Grand bit of stuff. ’ The Snert lets it hang there. Leans back. No response. Dead right. Mahon’s too cute, the hoor. Should’ve been a politician. Came close by all accounts. Certainly has the tools. Handsome looking man, big presence about him. And Lord knows he’s crooked as an S-hook. Mahon sips his pint. His apostles won’t acknowledge The Snert. ‘I says I seen ‘er down The Jazz the other day. ’ ‘Didn’t know you were a man for the skinny lattes Snert? ’ Giggles. One-nil Mahon on the counter-attack. ‘Heard she was goin’ at young Podgie Lavin? He’s a fair talent on the drums. ’ Nothin’. Mahon doesn’t say a word. Looks forward at the screen. Sniffles. A quick scratch at the side of his mouth. Back to the paper. Pushes it forward to get a better study of it. Back to the screen. ‘Martin, in your own good time, my very good friend, may I have a score each way on the nag Nina’s on in the 2:05? Billy Reilly counts his coppers. It’s now or never. The day’s drinkin’ depends on it. ‘Eh, one thirty each way for me there too please, Murt. ’ ‘Five win for me there Murt’ Four more loyal followers come in with their bets. Snert doesn’t budge. ‘Anyone doin’ a line with your little one anyway, Mahon? ’ Little. Bad form Snert, ya sneery little bollox. ‘…and while you’re fulfilling your duties please Martin, I’ll have a celebratory round in advance for my fellow revellers. Guinness all round if I’m not mistaken? ’ They thank him. ‘Oh. Young Brian here…. ’ That’s The Snert he’s talking about. ‘Young Brian will get his own. Making it in plenty he is, it being signing on day and so on. ‘ He raises his glass. ‘To you and yours Brian. The queue didn’t look too bad this morning? Pity about the rain I suppose. ’ That powerful grin. Ear to ear. Two-nil Mahon. The others sneer. The irony of their laughter lost on them. ‘Fiver on the favourite. ’ No please or thanks. Lacks class, you see. There’s been plenty said about Mahon over the years. Some true, some false. The way of this kind of place I suppose. It’s often when he’s goin’ well. Ah, he’s a boyo in fairness. I’m not telling you anything he wouldn’t tell you himself. When the wife ran away that time, it was no real surprise. Ah, they went for it far too young. Convenience, lust, money. He’ll say so himself. She was some bit of stuff. She wasn’t simple either. She storms in here one morning of August of 1998 if I’m not mistaken. As tall as himself. Sunglasses and heels. Lipstick. In fucking Balrahan, on a Wednesday morning. ‘Where is that alcoholic, waste of space, cheating bastard husband of mine? ’ I keep my head down of course. Never as focused on cleaning a glass. ‘Sorry who? ‘Devlin fucking Mahon. You know well who. ’ ‘Jaysus he hasn’t been in here this long time. ’ I knew well where he was. Saw him hopping into a car outside the pub the night before. Nice little blonde one driving of course. She caught him out a couple of days later and on her way she went. He hasn’t seen sight nor sign of her since and I doubt he’s lost a lot of sleep over it. It’s the young one I’d be feeling sorry for. Young Gemma. A grand girl. Never got the looks of the mother God love ‘er. Sort of heavy set. But very bright seemingly. Always seemed a bit odd. Bit different than the other young ones around this place. I suppose not having the mother around will do that to ya. Aye, the bould Mahon’s always had a weakness for the fairer sex. Likes a sup, but never goes too far. Ah, he knows the boys will be here of a Tuesday. Extended lunch he’ll call it. Bit of craic. Darts occasionally. Few horses. A pint or two. Shure what harm? Personally I wouldn’t trust a man who doesn’t take a sup. And anyway, isn’t the young one reared and well able to look after herself. More power to him. ‘G’wan Nina ya daisy. ’ ‘Get up t’fuck’ ‘Get up on him. ’ The last few furlongs. Mahon’s as cool as ya like. Snert’s fella is long gone. Pulled up way back. He’s sitting there with a sour puss on him. Looks like he’s been suckin’ lemons all day the little bollox. G’wan Nina. G’wan t’fuck…g’wan…. Yeeeeeeowwww’ The sweet taste of victory. Adulation. The little joys. Take that one Snert, ya little bollox. Mahon turns now. He throws a two euro coin onto Snert’s lap. ‘Here’s two quid for a latte, Brian. ’ Sneers and cheers. And more orders. There won’t be a whole lot done in Mahon and Cunningham solicitors this Tuesday afternoon. Martin Kirwan’s is the place to be. Jackpot. ‘Getting married Katelyn, is the most foolish thing a person can do. I mean think about it. How can you promise your entire future to another person? How can you promise that? How can you know who you’ll be or how you’ll feel in ten, twenty, thirty years? Life is transient. Why can we not just accept that we are close to a person in the present and that’s just how it is? Why make ties, bonds, contracts, you cannot be sure to keep? And who are the victims Katelynn? The likes of you and I. Why? Because it’s expected that it’s the norm that our parents, who are married, should stay together. So we feel weird when they don’t. Rejected. If my idiot father and bitch mother didn’t get married, maybe they’d have simply accepted that they both wanted to fuck other people and had at the very least an amicable relationship, you know? Then maybe I wouldn’t have been the disconnected, fuck-up teenager I was. ’ I stop there. I know I’m ranting again. Katelynn’s heard this all before. All she did was tell me some poor girl she works with is getting married. ‘Do ya never feel lonely, Gem? ’ ‘The only thing people get right about me Katelynn, is that I’m independent. I’m happy on my own. I live my life. I enjoy my life. Why do I need to live someone else’s too? ’ ‘But you haven’t had a ride in what, two years? ’ Subtle as a sledgehammer is my Katelynn. But she’s almost accurate. I haven’t been intimate with a man in one year and eleven months. Not a huge deal, but there it is. We differ in this respect. Katelynn needs it. Well, not it as such, but she needs to be held, to be hugged, to be close to someone. Her life seems to be a series of unfortunate semi-relationships. Yet she seems to pity me? I allow her that. I used to hate my mother for leaving me. As I’ve matured, this hatred has weakened to a mere dislike. I understand why she left and feel she was another victim of the society’s ridiculous obsession with the institution of marriage. I dislike however, how she left a nine year old little girl on her own, with a man who though loving, caring and wonderful in his own weird way, has always had his ‘weaknesses’. Drink, horses, women and I suspect, on occasion, heavier stuff too. He’s a man of vices. A man of extremes. He loves me. I know it. But I’ve always taken care of myself. And often him too. I understand him now. I understand her. I understand the unhappiness they must have felt and I accept it. But it showed me the futility of marriage. The sheer pointlessness of it. It made me question relationships. I don’t fall easily. For men, for friends. I don’t have many men and I don’t have many friends. I choose carefully. Katelynn, for all her flaws, is a friend. Our friendship arose out of similar circumstance. She was in the class below me in primary school. She used to cry on the bus. A tiny little thing. In those days, a year between kids seemed like a lifetime. I saw myself as the wiser little girl. I was in third class. She told me what happened with her parents one day. I pitied her. Not long after, I was in the same boat. We became friends. I enjoy these moments with her. They’ve become less frequent. We’re getting older, working more often. We move in different circles sometimes, I guess. She’s got her own scene. Nowadays I see her Instagrammed face (turned at a convenient angle, glasses, paleskin contrasting with lipstick, moody pout) more days than I see her real face. I prefer her real face. That one obvious dimple, the upward curvature of her
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The Times of Bill Cunningham - by Thompson Krista,
March 26, 2020
3.9/ 5stars
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The times of bill cunningham watch online without.Jotunfall ? Part 1 This story is a sequel to The Horrors Awakened, and will be enhanced by reading that first. When news first came of the initial arcology in Wyoming, I was just as excited as those around me. Having followed the entrepreneur rocket barons of the early 21st century with wistful envy, I envisioned fantasies where the mysterious people behind these wondrous mountain-sized complexes would chance upon me in a diner and see something special in me. They would, of course invite me to take part in the latest way that technology magnates would make the world better for everyone. While, it seemed, the rest of the world treated the mystery of the growing number of arcologies, and the unknown people behind them, the same way that Charlie treated the mystery of Wonka’s chocolate factory, I began to grow disillusioned. Nation states clamored to be the next to host these mystery fortresses and capitalize on the new streams of advancement pouring forth from them. I, along with a very small number of surly anonymous online compatriots screamed warnings, in all caps, to the world. The organization sitting atop these new man-made Mounts Olympus had taken control of the governments of the world without a shot fired, a cry of protest, or so much as a name. My grand plans of rebellion and subterfuge slowly bled away over the next dozen years as the crush of reality pressed in upon me. Humanity loved its new masters and viewed dissent the same way a tolerant parent smiled with embarrassment at their toddler’s grocery store tantrum. I, never having had to try as hard as his peers in things academic chafed at a succession of jobs banal and menial because I refused to work for any of the ubiquitous companies suckling at this organizations teat. When I learned my parents had contracted Shumaker’s disease, a recent and poorly understood neurodegenerative disease, I fell into a major depressive funk. My parents’ sharp decline into dementia left me only one possible recourse and I faced the first major moral dilemma of my life. Did I love my parents enough to sacrifice myself for a cure? The only available method of curing Shumaker’s was via treatments available in health plans granted to those who worked for feeder companies for the arcologies. If I didn’t want my parents to be comatose, and then dead within the next year I would have to put away my ideals and loathing for the new overlords of the earth and help them broaden their empire. With a heavy heart, I walked into the employment office outside of the arcology in central Utah, and submitted my application to be placed in any job that came with immediate benefits. “Great! We have a placement for you, ” the toady behind the desk beamed at me. “You have just one placement? ” I asked, surprised as hundreds of thousands of people were employed working for feeders in Sanpete and Utah counties alone. “Just one, my boy” the drone confirmed, radiant smile still beaming on his face. “And, ” he added with the tone of old Bob Barker about to introduce another prize, “this one is in R, and, D! You’ll get to be working with cutting edge stuff! Human enhancement, it appears. My, my ? I am just green with envy! ” “What do you mean ‘human enhancement’? ” I cautiously queried. “This gig is really sweet. You’ll be outfitted with a brain-net interface as part of early trials! Now, don’t forget about the non-disclosure agreement you signed as part of your application ? we wouldn’t want arc-sec coming down on you, would we? ” I grimaced as he adopted the rapid-fire surprised tone my mom took on as she read the details of vacations she’d never be available to afford, “Oh! 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I didn’t sleep at all that night, some crazy mesh helmet of wires and electrodes ostensibly monitoring my brain activity, perched atop my skull as I stared blankly at the ceiling. I entertained fantasies of bringing down ‘the org’, as I’d taken to calling them, via escapades so gratuitous that Michael Bay of previous decades would blush in embarrassment. And then a nurse came in, adjusted a knob on a contraption interfacing with my IV, and gave me a very professional nurse smile as consciousness faded out. I came to immediately… a full seven days later. I was surrounded by several techs, furious typing away at keyboards, eyes intent on the screens floating in front of them. “Another success! ” the most portly of them squealed, as he made eye contact with me, “Arus bio-tech’s stock is going to sky rocket! Our options are going to make us rich! ” His voice calmed somewhat, as he asked me “How ya’ feelin’ there sport? Got any headaches? Odd colors in your vision? Pop-up ads? ” and he started snickering as his tech pals joined in. “Do you seriously work for a company named after a planet from Voltron? ” The laughing subsided pretty quickly. “Not many people are in to vintage stuff like that. I respect that you get the reference, but don’t respect your tone. I’m tempted to just walk on out of here to let you figure this out yourself. But, as the knights of Voltron defended the innocent regardless of personal feelings, so will I. Dustin, my man… you’ve got some sweet hardware in your head. This stuff’s so advanced those without it are going to be like Neanderthals within a couple of years. ” Another tech cheerfully piped in, “Or Cro-Magnons.. Denesovians? Point is, you’re advanced, and everyone else is going to be…. Not. ” The rotund leader shot his boisterous tech an annoyed glance, and turned back to me “In a few hours when the pain meds wear off, you’re going to have a headache of biblical proportions. Like a spike of hot lead boring through your skull. Your first assignment for your new job is to turn off the pain. I can’t tell you how to do that, I can only tell you that you can do that. Good luck buddy, ” he chortled as he and his techs filtered out of my circle room. I lay back and spent several hours contemplating how rash this decision had been, when out of nowhere I came to know pain. Many people might think they understand what pain is, but they don’t… not really. I lived in pain, my world was pain. I breathed, ate, and drank pain. My eyes shot pain lasers, and pain gently blew across my skin as the air conditioning cycled on. I knew I would lose my mind as seconds stretched into hours, into days, and into eons. I was the god of pain for all eternity, and knew that I had been forsaken. Until finally, I realized that as the god of pain, I held dominion over it, and I commanded it into silence. I couldn’t have been more surprised than when it listened, and I fell into blackness once again. “Holy shit! Seven seconds! ” I heard as a groggily opened my eyes. “Dude, dude, duuuuude! ” the chubby tech from before cackled, “You must be some sort of virtuoso ? the Mozart of this implant. You figured out how to shut it down after seven seconds! A record! Let’s get this man a gold medal. ” He stared at me, beaming condescending happiness. Only second seconds, I wondered. It was an eternity to me… in every conceivable way, it had stretched out so long that I couldn’t comprehend how I’d maintained any level of sanity. “I have to be honest with you, all-star, some of the guy’s we’ve wired up have lost their minds when the implant boots up. But you did just fine. Glad we’re gonna get paid on this one instead of taking another sanction. Placement really hooked us up with you. ” I glared at him as he reached into a messenger bag and pulled out a binder filled with paper. “This is like your employee manual. You’re going to stay in the compound here, and you’re going to do what you’re told. Relax, relax… don’t look so miffed. You’ll have daily tasks to complete, but for the most part, you get to surf the net, watch vids, and game all you want ? so long as you do it all via the implant. No more meat-space devices. You’re a digital boy now! Now, just like Pinocchio, you’re going to have to be honest through everything as we move along, or you’re not going to like the consequences. Every morning and night, you’ll plug in to the terminals upstairs via the plug the base of your neck. Oh calm down, buddy ? you agreed to all of this when you signed the employment contract. Before you open your mouth, yes, your medical plan has kicked in ? they told me about your parents, and treatment has already been scheduled. You’re part of the feed-lot now tiger! We take care of our own, even if they’re surly little shits. ” I watched his fat ass sauntered out of the room again, having unceremoniously dropped the binder on my knees. I was going to beat the crap out of him once I got the chance. I was going to wipe that smug smile off his face. Over the next months, my job wasn’t hard, but the lack of real work felt monotonous. I was given tasks like “distractedly fill out this cross-word puzzle, while watching a documentary about how traditional salt-water taffy is made. You must watch the documentary and comprehend all of its major points, but finish the crossword correctly before it is o
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Nasty your step sister really... Tuesday Afternoon in Balrahan. They’re hanging on his every word again, the fucker. He’s some boyo. Owes me a couple of hundred of course, but look, I won’t go askin’. Not in front of the rest of them. He’s good for it. I also know by the look of him he had one or two last night and it wasn’t here. But I’ll say nothin’. You need lads like him around the place. Full of life, full of stories, keeps the place ticking over. His high stool seems higher than theirs. Huge hands waving, gesturing, engaging them all. They love him. Plenty don’t. The thing about Devlin Mahon is, he doesn’t give a shite what any man in this town has to say about him, and shure isn’t he right too? I must’ve heard this one twenty times at this stage. Argentina. 1984. Work trip. Mahon’s just married. Lands himself a spot on some game show. Talks himself into it of course. Talks himself into a ride with the co-hostess too. She’s a big deal seemingly. Married to some soccer player or other. Anyway they’re caught on camera. Pictures all over some rag the next day. In Argen-fuckin-tina of all places. Tells them how he had to pull strings to make sure the word didn’t cross the sea. Bla, bla, bla. And then… ‘I waited to tell that one for fourteen years, until she saw sense and ran off. ’ Takes a long, indulgent gulp. Glass down hard. ‘Fuck all she can do about it now. ’ Roars of approval. Back slaps, attempted handshakes. The new ones love it. Those who’ve already heard it shake their heads and nod approvingly. The craft of the story. How true it is, I don’t know, but I wouldn’t put it past him. Anyway, why let the truth in the way of a good story? ‘An’ how’s that young one from The Jazz getting’ on Mahon? Lookin’ well when I seen ‘er th’other day, she was. Grand bit of stuff. ’ The Snert lets it hang there. Leans back. No response. Dead right. Mahon’s too cute, the hoor. Should’ve been a politician. Came close by all accounts. Certainly has the tools. Handsome looking man, big presence about him. And Lord knows he’s crooked as an S-hook. Mahon sips his pint. His apostles won’t acknowledge The Snert. ‘I says I seen ‘er down The Jazz the other day. ’ ‘Didn’t know you were a man for the skinny lattes Snert? ’ Giggles. One-nil Mahon on the counter-attack. ‘Heard she was goin’ at young Podgie Lavin? He’s a fair talent on the drums. ’ Nothin’. Mahon doesn’t say a word. Looks forward at the screen. Sniffles. A quick scratch at the side of his mouth. Back to the paper. Pushes it forward to get a better study of it. Back to the screen. ‘Martin, in your own good time, my very good friend, may I have a score each way on the nag Nina’s on in the 2:05? Billy Reilly counts his coppers. It’s now or never. The day’s drinkin’ depends on it. ‘Eh, one thirty each way for me there too please, Murt. ’ ‘Five win for me there Murt’ Four more loyal followers come in with their bets. Snert doesn’t budge. ‘Anyone doin’ a line with your little one anyway, Mahon? ’ Little. Bad form Snert, ya sneery little bollox. ‘…and while you’re fulfilling your duties please Martin, I’ll have a celebratory round in advance for my fellow revellers. Guinness all round if I’m not mistaken? ’ They thank him. ‘Oh. Young Brian here…. ’ That’s The Snert he’s talking about. ‘Young Brian will get his own. Making it in plenty he is, it being signing on day and so on. ‘ He raises his glass. ‘To you and yours Brian. The queue didn’t look too bad this morning? Pity about the rain I suppose. ’ That powerful grin. Ear to ear. Two-nil Mahon. The others sneer. The irony of their laughter lost on them. ‘Fiver on the favourite. ’ No please or thanks. Lacks class, you see. There’s been plenty said about Mahon over the years. Some true, some false. The way of this kind of place I suppose. It’s often when he’s goin’ well. Ah, he’s a boyo in fairness. I’m not telling you anything he wouldn’t tell you himself. When the wife ran away that time, it was no real surprise. Ah, they went for it far too young. Convenience, lust, money. He’ll say so himself. She was some bit of stuff. She wasn’t simple either. She storms in here one morning of August of 1998 if I’m not mistaken. As tall as himself. Sunglasses and heels. Lipstick. In fucking Balrahan, on a Wednesday morning. ‘Where is that alcoholic, waste of space, cheating bastard husband of mine? ’ I keep my head down of course. Never as focused on cleaning a glass. ‘Sorry who? ‘Devlin fucking Mahon. You know well who. ’ ‘Jaysus he hasn’t been in here this long time. ’ I knew well where he was. Saw him hopping into a car outside the pub the night before. Nice little blonde one driving of course. She caught him out a couple of days later and on her way she went. He hasn’t seen sight nor sign of her since and I doubt he’s lost a lot of sleep over it. It’s the young one I’d be feeling sorry for. Young Gemma. A grand girl. Never got the looks of the mother God love ‘er. Sort of heavy set. But very bright seemingly. Always seemed a bit odd. Bit different than the other young ones around this place. I suppose not having the mother around will do that to ya. Aye, the bould Mahon’s always had a weakness for the fairer sex. Likes a sup, but never goes too far. Ah, he knows the boys will be here of a Tuesday. Extended lunch he’ll call it. Bit of craic. Darts occasionally. Few horses. A pint or two. Shure what harm? Personally I wouldn’t trust a man who doesn’t take a sup. And anyway, isn’t the young one reared and well able to look after herself. More power to him. ‘G’wan Nina ya daisy. ’ ‘Get up t’fuck’ ‘Get up on him. ’ The last few furlongs. Mahon’s as cool as ya like. Snert’s fella is long gone. Pulled up way back. He’s sitting there with a sour puss on him. Looks like he’s been suckin’ lemons all day the little bollox. G’wan Nina. G’wan t’fuck…g’wan…. Yeeeeeeowwww’ The sweet taste of victory. Adulation. The little joys. Take that one Snert, ya little bollox. Mahon turns now. He throws a two euro coin onto Snert’s lap. ‘Here’s two quid for a latte, Brian. ’ Sneers and cheers. And more orders. There won’t be a whole lot done in Mahon and Cunningham solicitors this Tuesday afternoon. Martin Kirwan’s is the place to be. Jackpot. ‘Getting married Katelyn, is the most foolish thing a person can do. I mean think about it. How can you promise your entire future to another person? How can you promise that? How can you know who you’ll be or how you’ll feel in ten, twenty, thirty years? Life is transient. Why can we not just accept that we are close to a person in the present and that’s just how it is? Why make ties, bonds, contracts, you cannot be sure to keep? And who are the victims Katelynn? The likes of you and I. Why? Because it’s expected that it’s the norm that our parents, who are married, should stay together. So we feel weird when they don’t. Rejected. If my idiot father and bitch mother didn’t get married, maybe they’d have simply accepted that they both wanted to fuck other people and had at the very least an amicable relationship, you know? Then maybe I wouldn’t have been the disconnected, fuck-up teenager I was. ’ I stop there. I know I’m ranting again. Katelynn’s heard this all before. All she did was tell me some poor girl she works with is getting married. ‘Do ya never feel lonely, Gem? ’ ‘The only thing people get right about me Katelynn, is that I’m independent. I’m happy on my own. I live my life. I enjoy my life. Why do I need to live someone else’s too? ’ ‘But you haven’t had a ride in what, two years? ’ Subtle as a sledgehammer is my Katelynn. But she’s almost accurate. I haven’t been intimate with a man in one year and eleven months. Not a huge deal, but there it is. We differ in this respect. Katelynn needs it. Well, not it as such, but she needs to be held, to be hugged, to be close to someone. Her life seems to be a series of unfortunate semi-relationships. Yet she seems to pity me? I allow her that. I used to hate my mother for leaving me. As I’ve matured, this hatred has weakened to a mere dislike. I understand why she left and feel she was another victim of the society’s ridiculous obsession with the institution of marriage. I dislike however, how she left a nine year old little girl on her own, with a man who though loving, caring and wonderful in his own weird way, has always had his ‘weaknesses’. Drink, horses, women and I suspect, on occasion, heavier stuff too. He’s a man of vices. A man of extremes. He loves me. I know it. But I’ve always taken care of myself. And often him too. I understand him now. I understand her. I understand the unhappiness they must have felt and I accept it. But it showed me the futility of marriage. The sheer pointlessness of it. It made me question relationships. I don’t fall easily. For men, for friends. I don’t have many men and I don’t have many friends. I choose carefully. Katelynn, for all her flaws, is a friend. Our friendship arose out of similar circumstance. She was in the class below me in primary school. She used to cry on the bus. A tiny little thing. In those days, a year between kids seemed like a lifetime. I saw myself as the wiser little girl. I was in third class. She told me what happened with her parents one day. I pitied her. Not long after, I was in the same boat. We became friends. I enjoy these moments with her. They’ve become less frequent. We’re getting older, working more often. We move in different circles sometimes, I guess. She’s got her own scene. Nowadays I see her Instagrammed face (turned at a convenient angle, glasses, paleskin contrasting with lipstick, moody pout) more days than I see her real face. I prefer her real face. That one obvious dimple, the upward curvature of herThe times of bill cunningham watch online movie. I bet most girls from Boston straight out of college is going to watch this film.
- Coauthor: Christy Turlington
- Biography Mom/Wife/Daughter/Yogi, 8 x Marathon Finisher/Founder @everymomcounts, Author, Living Yoga: Creating A Life Practice/Model. I tweet about Global Maternal Health
The Times of Bill Cunningham - by Thompson Krista,
March 26, 2020
3.9/ 5stars
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