Claudia Cardinale

Claudia Cardale is like a Chagall painting.  Or the firmament on a crisp, clear night in the mountains around Tin Cup, Colorado.  Or a truckload sale of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer cut to half price when the truck skidded off an icy road in western Kansas.  No words do her justice.

Not that I or any man needs to justify posting a picture of the most beautiful woman from one of the best westerns ever made.  Or needs to make a fool of himself trying to wax poetical about her.

Tonight, when I'm done wasting time here and get my 2k quota of words in on the next Yakima Henry--DEAD MAN'S TRAIL--I'll be watching a movie I picked up at a Redbox this afternoon while out shopping for chicken livers, gizzards, and hearts for Stella and Thor.  (My less than elegant life will never be confused with that of Harold Robbins or Sydney Sheldon.)  Looks like a sure-fire winner--a little horror flick called DONNER PARTY.  I'll post about that tomorrow.

Till then, don't forget to scrub the drool off your keyboard...