Uncle Manifester

On, Ward.

I wish someone would put a light bulb in his mouth...

Bless your heart, OP

R2 but that would make him the Literal Li ght and ain't nobody need to hear more about that nonsense than we already do.

Hee hee hee

Aunt Fester has stated her boundaries! Too bad she doesn’t recognize the fact that SHE is “visual pollution” for everyone else:

“Just my periodic post to say I delete gifs when I notice them - nothing personal but I don’t like the visual pollution. Just my taste and my page. It’s a pet peeve . Thanks”

R6 oh life is so tough for her...

"And right on cue - some will post gifs because - well, whatever it is that causes them to do it when told I don't like them .. there are always brats on playgrounds ... i've put up with them all my sissy life lol .. I look at Facebook as a plinth but too often it is alas a playground where we all still act out our childhood selves - mine - an akimbo little sissy tired of this shit ... lol"

R7: Oh, how he wishes his were a more sophisticated group of followers.

But it's Facebook. And his flock are not famous and bold-faced names but sad sacks and lonely hearts and Wal-Mart shoppers. How he wishes they were more generous with contributions in the form of $/£/€ and more tight fisted with the cheesy gifs and emojis, but such is his lot.

I have absolutely no idea what this thread is about, but holy fuck, R2 made me laugh.

She doesn't think about her VF days much...so today must be a rarity when she republishes a piece on her shitstack of a Barbra Streisand cover feature she did in 1991.

R10. Yes I remember it well. He licks her snatch and kvells about her “process” editing the sound for THE PRINCE OF TIDES. A horrible, unwatchable, film.

All I remember from THE PRINCE OF TIDES was several long, lingering shots of Barbra’s bare legs as she’s conducting a therapy session with Nick Nolte.

Small town my navel. Sat on the sofa with a young man with tea for two not too tiddily. Bespoke to him of my salad days, when I was green in teeth. Ah! Those long ago days writing for Vanity Fair and Interview and such. Dear Barbra! Dear Carrie! Dear Jody! Dear Deirdre! Dear Deer! (Guns & Antlers, Feb '84). But they're dead to me now, all of them dead to me, especially Carrie, who is dead to everybody, not counting the CGI mavens at Lucasfilm, holy shit was that creepy. I explained my disdain to the young main of all those faded, shaded, bladed, braided beauties and my duty to toot the flute for REWRITE LATER. It has been years since I thought of the identity that consumed me for decades, i.e., someone who could tell some bridge-and-tunnel types to go back to wherever they came from, secure in knowledge that I could parry any rejoinder with "I can't go back to where I cam from, I'm an orphan and furthermore the Razorback Gardens Trailer Park burned down in '98."

Another outstanding contribution R13.

I hope you actually get paid IRL for your writing, it is wonderful!

R13 writes ten times better and more coherently than Bav

He has smashed his own record with the sentence that begins "She still longs for that..." ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY FIVE WORDS!! Including one "fucking" and one "limned."

PUMP THE BRAKES, Fester!!

No appearances of her new favorite word “atop”?

R13 REWRITE LATER 🤣🤣🤣

Certainly she doesn't mean "a top" as in she's "a top"?

[quote] The dubious dawdles of a perambulating pill grim.

She's defintely a pill, as well as grim--that mouth! Those (few) teeth! Bleh...🤮

All those snaps of Uncle striking the same pose, at whatever event he's attending--I can't imagine asking complete strangers to take my photo every fucking day!

And why are the innocent photo-takers (always nameless, always anonymous) never give a photo credit by Aunt Fester?

Is he registered to vote in Mississippi? I doubt he gives enough of a fuck to bother, but he’ll whine about the results.

Our erstwhile grim pillager was at the theatuh with “a friend”! Ned, you in danger gurl.

His post about living in England has made him think less and less about the US is a major eyeroll! Enough to make you cry Uncle!

Uncle fister?

Except, R26, that this messy meth head is more fistee than fister. A sloppy addict with a busted hole.

His hole is more busted than Esther Rolle.

Damn, damn, DAMN!! R28

That’s just inaccurate and unfair!

I keep a journal that I write in every day, which probably makes me more of legitimate writer than Bav. But I bring this up because I was just proofreading my last couple of entries in my journal and I realized that I used the word, "atop."

I have no excuse. I'm done. Sorry for being such a dumbass.

Did you also use "limn" and "imbue", R30? And do you capitalise "the Light"?

She's now seeing messages in the rainbows. Make it stop

You can’t make this shit up.

That's another catch phrase he's trying to make happen, r33.

[quote]"You can make this up. Well, you can, but I don't"

...but he does.

will our intrepid reporter get that prize selfie with Mandy?

stay tuned....

Will Mandy get the prized breath waft of putrid shit from her mouth?

Also he's now found a new cafe to leach WiFi in order to do some 'hours of work'.

Ok Janice Soprano.

Every day there's at least one post which calls for

"I'll take things that didn't happen for 500 Alex"

He’s such a degenerate LIAR, his rampant IV meth use has left him unable to tell fact from fantasy. The lecherous, liver spotted, leering….the VF re-treads from the 90’s, the grifting of tickets with ZERO shame….all point to a person with a loose grasp on reality. He’s gearing up for some major fuckery, I can just feel it.

Hey Mandy how about we go to a nice restaurant where you can buy me dinner? What do you get? Why a selfie with ME and my hundreds and thousands of loyal FB followers.

Paging Ted Rogers....! He's out with Martin Sherman and his credit card again! After he "took him" to Mandy Patinkin's opening night!

Sammy the Barista's facial expression speaks volumes...

R41 ha I picked up on that too.

"Who is this bald old cunt?"

"I like to spend time here and work" i.e. I buy a coffee and hog a table in the café to use its free WiFi.

God he is fucking insufferable.

R41 I came here to say this also! She looks like she’s holding her breath, due to his rancid odour, with the perfect “Really, Queen??” look on her face.

That 10 year old Robyn Alice photo!

Hand right over his crotch. It's hard to find a photo of him where he is not pointing at or otherwise featuring his crotch.

These jeans are made for walking and that's just what they'll do. One of these days these (filthy) jeans are gonna walk all over YOU

Uncle is selfie-absorbed...

For someone whose every waking (and dreaming, I’ll wager) moment is so relentlessly solipsistic and “introspective” he sure doesn’t see his messhy self with ANY clarity. .

The self examining must be through those filthy filmy grifted glasses. (Alliteration! Onward!!)

Uncle Selfie-Absorbed is Uncle Selfie-Deluded.

Ted is back and hating again. He's definitely a DLer

She has a new selfie with a hot young guy with BDF and Sissy looks like a gremlin elf. How tall IS she?

DO NOT READ HIS PIECE ON MANDY PATINKIN. It will ruin your weekend, it’s so poorly written. This jackass shouldn’t be allowed to write SHIT!!

The only way he succeeded in writing for VF etc. was by Tina and Graydon editing the shit out of his pieces. In fact the only mention TB makes of him in her autobiography is a throw away line that she was up til 4am one night editing a piece of his. That is the only mention he gets in the autobiography of someone he says he 'adores' and waxes lyrical about how much they got along.

She fucking hated his guts.

Can someone post the Mandy Patinkin interview if they have it? I’d love to get really high and then read it.

May I ask what this thread is about?

R53 - No, you may not.

Now take three Giant Steps.

No, you may not, R53.

The pompus Patinkin piece deploys his special words, of course, that prove he is A Writer:

"he is a person who has always *limned* his prodigious talents with purpose....He was already *imbued* with the star presence..."

Another use of imbue in the MP interview. Also note - I went to Juilliard and you gave me hope. Failing to mention that he dropped/got kicked out after one year.

QUESTION ONE

You went to Juilliard’s Drama Division. So did I. I was Group 8. You were Group 5, I believe. I moved to New York in August of 1975 to start school there. I remember you from the production of Hamlet over at Lincoln Center next door a few months after I began classes. I will never forget you as Fortinbras. When I read your credits that night to figure out who you were, I first discovered you had attended Juilliard. And I distinctly remember thinking, “Fuck. There’s hope. I just found some hope. There’s hope here in this guy.” You imbued me with hope, Mandy. So first I want to thank you for that. I have always wanted to thank you and now 48 years later I can. What in your life gives you hope?

Is this about that Andy person y'all are always ripping to shreds?

R58. No and if you don't know what or who this thread is about then run along.

Lots of "I's" in Question 1!

There are clues enough in this thread for you to figure it out..

Stick around, r53, and you'll figure it out soon enough. Posters here are not being coy - there are reasons that we can't explain for why we have to be cryptic.

When a thread topic isn’t clear to me, I leave it be.

But enough about me, let's talk about you.... what do you think of me?

Bav baked a pah and generously gifted spa couple of slices to “a friend” he visited for lunch before bestowing some on the cleaning lady (who deserves a raise for having to endure the fetid stench).

Who does that? Take the whole cake you methed out freak.

As with his physical appearance, the rotted mouth, the bizarre women's frocks, the scummy jeans rolled up halfway to Jesus, and a perennial look that teeters back and forth between bored to death and lecherous freak sizing everyone up, no doubt the crumbled crumbs of cat pah are his way of pressing the faces of the more decent half of the world into his steaming pile of shit.

R64. Once again, someone beat me to it! BRING THE WHOLE CAKE YOU DENSE CUNT! Also, let’s not forget, he was kicked out of Juilliard, and also “cut from the heard” around the same time….so his aggressive rimming of a fat bedingleberried arsehole took center stage!! He knew he had little to no talent for the stage. Don’t believe me? WATCH “FLOOZIES”!!

R65 I love u

His latest post..."It's been a week of great press seats".

😡😡🤬

How does he qualify as press?

R68 And Ted responded!

He presses his own jeans…with the heat of his farts.

Ted is gonna get a double dosing of blessings for his heart

R69 He occasionally posts about his theater experiences on FB, for example there was that time a fat whore had the nerve to sit next to him and he wrote a 500 word sputtering treatise about it.

"It's been a great week for pilfering free press seats..."

In the “great week for press seats” photo, he’s wearing the ripped jeans that happened the *first* time he fell…they look super crusty and they need a good scrubbo.

R75 And “atop” the filth-encrusted jeans he’s wearing a used, cinched-waist raincoat from the Missy Petite’s section at JC Penny, circa 1994. Pure class, our Bav.

Also, thank you for saying “ scrubbo.” It’s been far too long.

[quote]Ted is gonna get a double dosing of blessings for his heart.

Ted's funny, but too on the nose, r72. The post that r70 posted has been deleted without any comment at all. Almost nobody saw it.

Kudos for busting him on his own page, though. I wish I had made an account to call him out for thinking Jupiter was Venus, since he built a whole story around it that was based on Venus being the morning star, aka Lucifer, the fallen angel, and how the christians had co-opted that - or something like that.

It would have taken the legs right out from under him to correct him on that. Kinda like the guy who clued him in on "fitful sleep". I missed an opportunity. He had the wrong planet entirely.

A subtler approach would be more devious, reach more people, and have a longer life. Thanks for capturing that beautiful moment, though, r72, and Ted Rogers, for your blunt as fuck approach.

Has Shessie blocked you yet?

Ted Rogers is clearly on DL and these threads.

Ted Rogers, I love you. Keep doing God's work.

Oh Ted. Thank you.

[quote]The only way he succeeded in writing for VF etc. was by Tina and Graydon editing the shit out of his pieces. In fact the only mention TB makes of him in her autobiography is a throw away line that she was up til 4am one night editing a piece of his

Tell me about it!

The cunt is back shouting bravi at the curtain call. He also is back to see Nicole Scherzinger for the third time in Sunset Boulevard 'got a 39 quid seat'. No doubt we will get a bravo at that too. His description of SB is a doozie.

"Small-town London. Back for my third visit @sunsetblvdmusical . Yes, I like this @jamielloydco production that much thanks to the bravura talents of @nicolescherzinger and @jamielloyd and @realtomfrancis @youngthacko . I will write more soon at SES/SUMS IT UP at Substack about how deeply transgressive this production is as it so incongruously reveres the source material embedded within it. It celebrates it yet takes pointed moments to slag it off then careens back on its course - a camera as its steering wheel along with the soul stirring orchestrations - to drive its main points home: musicals are ready for their closeups , new stars are born within old vehicles, an auteur is in our midst."

Sum’ up for sure. Up ur ass😵‍💫

"... a camera as its steering wheel along with the soul stirring orchestrations - to drive its main points home: musicals are ready for their closeups , new stars are born within old vehicles, an auteur is in our midst."

Hack alert on aisle five!

"I will write more soon at SES/SUMS IT UP at Substack about how deeply transgressive this production is as it so incongruously reveres the source material embedded within it."

This is one of the shittiest sentences I have ever read.

I could forgive him anything save his lack of talent.

How the FUCK did he get a job at Conde Nast.

Were they all so fucked up on toot and JD that they actually thought he had talent?

R84 I honestly think it's because the dumbasses he's praising are so high on their own supply they believe him and think he's some sort of literary genius for recognizing their talent. I mean, at this point it's not really getting him anything but free tickets and interviews to confused talent who are promoting their latest project. I can only think Mandy Patinkin doesn't have a publicist because who would steer him towards this ridiculous, sputtering hack?

The way this faux intellect tries to wistfully weave the west end wisdom into the incessant idiotic insta posts 😩

R85, I'm more surprised at the editors and publishers in question.

I think any given star will, in good faith, answer questions from an interviewer assigned to the brief.

There are no editors r87 he doesn’t have a job, assignment anything…shitstack is it blazing the trail from the detritus of “sessums magazine”

R87 But he doesn’t have any editors or publishers at this point. Unless you count a one-off article in he wrote recently for Appalachian Mountain Women Monthly or whatever the hell that thing was that nobody read and he was likely paid $15 for. (Sorry, covert that to “quid,” please.)

R88 and R89, I'm more bemused by his Vanity Fair and Interview days.

The quid thing is really getting on my tits. You are not fucking British, Madonna. Also nobody in England says '39 quid'. Quid is reserved for a rounded up figure '40 quid' or '85 quid' NOBODY says '39 quid'. What next? He starts saying Cor Blimey?

Also his post about putting up the posters of the Israeli hostages. How brave and worthy of you. Fucking cueball Thunderbirds looking Dickhead.

The cunt has also started using ‘mate’ FFS Dick Van Dyke.

I caught a typo

..... I told her we could have talked ABOUT MYSELF for another couple of hours but I had to get to the Royal Opera House....

Joanna is a smart lady—who is showing inexplicably bad judgment in association with this grifting twat. Although she is also friendly with that other grifter, James Grissom, so maybe she has blind spots…

To try to answer the question from R84 about how he got work at the top magazine publishing company of its day... Conde Nast was full of people who weren't super talented, but were seen as being "in." If you were young and pretty and your parents had a house in Quogue, you were a perfect hire. What mattered was being seen as a person who was in with the right crowd, and since our hero had been "cut from the herd" he had contacts and connections. It does seem like he has a talent for befriending the right people, and keeping in with them. No one cared about his writing. Subeditors would fix up the text. He was also unusual looking -- and in a good way, he look fine in those days -- and clearly had an abundance of confidence and swagger. THat was all that was needed. He was given a golden ticket to a great career with a huge salary and endless expenses (in those days Conde people could expense almost anything) and like a twit he didn't buy himself a SoHo loft but squandered it all, and then the drugs finished his career off.

Since he had a cameo in the original Tales of the City it’s intriguing that he seems to have been drummed out of Armistead Maupin’s circle. No dropping in for tea in London.

R95, thanks - that does provide context.

Damn, I could have been a VF writer in the late 90s.

That sentence that R84 quoted MAKES MY TEETH HURT.

Shouting brava at the curtain calls. Nobody does that in London...mate.

" I got a 16 quid ticket to sit in row BB seat #1 in the slips house... "

STFU you liver-lipped weasel!

Any bets on who picked up the lunch tab w/ Joanna Gleason? He's spending so much "quid" on theater and ballet tickets....!!!

He’s a chunk of old, frosted, dogshit.

His writing reveals his truncated education. It is doubtful he ever experienced a composition class.

[quote] His writing reveals his truncated education. It is doubtful he ever experienced a composition class.

But he must be a regular on thesaurus dot com. When I read his dispatches and note his repeated use of $5 words, I'm reminded of that line from "The Princess Bride:" "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."

oddly timely - almost discomfiting!

Someone should tell him that there's a perfectly good word for the female equivalent of a landlord. It is, unsurprisingly, "landlady."

Poor Ms. Noble - her washing machine is going to be choked with scum from those jeans and whatever other detritus he stuffs in there!

This after he used her oven and kitchen equipment to make a disgusting cat hair pah.

I don’t think Bav’s encrusted jeans will be troubling the washing machine any time soon. Though he might use it to SCRUBBO his filthy drawers 🤢

106 landlord is perfectly acceptable for any gender…it lost any specificity a long time ago in American English.

And seriously what is with this “quid” thing, I don’t ever recall seeing that word written anywhere. It’s normally reserved for speech. I’ve rarely seen it written, even in a novel. What’s wrong with “£16” ???

In his feeble attempts to appear so veddy veddy British, in his Sunset Blvd. post, I think he used 'slag' when he meant to use 'slough.'

"...how deeply transgressive this production is as it so incongruously reveres the source material embedded within it."

Why would revering the source material be incongruous? It would be more unusual if the production appeared to critique the original, no?

How is such a production - one apparently respectful to the original film/stage version - transgressive? Is it because the original work was transgressive and still is?

"Embedded" is both incorrect (strictly speaking, a physical object is embedded) and a hilarious example of what I call "Heather Chandler's suicide note" writing.

This is only 17 words, mind.

“First car at church” - that actually makes sense to me.

R110 cos he's a Lundunah now init muckah? He finks it's pukka to get some of dem press tickets. Cor Blimey he even cadged a seat at the Ballet during the interval.

I hope he goes to one of those pie and mash shops.

"fack off you yank poofter cun'

R109, if you're going to start using "quid" like a local, then you should also use other bits of the language:

Landlady noun ​(British English) a woman who owns or manages a pub or a guest house compare landlord, proprietor

He just tosses those words in like bacon bits into a salad!

Let’s face it folks, he’s fucking stupid. I’ve been saying it for years, now I’m SO GLAD people are finally realizing it. In NY, he was roundly mocked for his EXTREME haughtiness, and, as is usually the case, it masked a host of insecurities. When the Vulcan death grip of addiction took hold, he couldn’t really continue his charade. BUT, like any other useless cunt, he doubled down on the entitlement and snobbery. This is why we are here. So, he can take his chicken fried hustle, and shove it squarely up his stretched out sphincter.

This so called "pilgrimage" is an unsustainable lifestyle. I often wonder how he handles his money (what little there is of it). I assume Doctor Brother is possibly his Social Security payee, and puts funds on some type of American Express type account...? I can't believe he would qualify for any type of credit card. And how are the meager pickings he gets from his "assignments" paid?

In other words, where do his QUIDS come from??!!

R118 I believe he's said he does not have a credit card.

R118 I also think he has dimwit friends in high places just giving him money. We don't talk enough about how fucking weird this was, for example.

Not surprising - but how, then, does he pay for his airline tickets, or his Air Bnb rentals?

I'm thinking Doctor Brother handles the big expenses like airline tickets and rent remotely, and gives him some type of allowance to live on. I don't think he has any "friends" who are giving him any significant money.

Any compensation he might receive for his "writing" that was issued via check can be signed over to Doctor Brother to deposit into an account back in Mississippi....?

Ted R is on a tear. The r is for relentless

No previous political experience is no longer a disqualification for a career in politics

Maloney lost that election - in a district that Biden won by 10 points -

And you can bet there isn't a nickel of that $30K left - and that NOTHING went to the IRS either -

[quote]Ted R is on a tear.

I'm not seeing that, r122. What thread is it in?

A cautionary tale of grift and arrogance

MESSHY!!!

FESTIVUS is dead. It's now FESTERVUS! Long live FESTERVUS!!

Messyssippi

A FESTERVUS for the REST URV US!

R121, I don't think there is much money you be handled.

Uncle Fester says he receives Social Security. He says that he cashed in what was left of his art and a few bits of unexceptional Mid Century Modern furniture. His stuff was mediocre at best, a few relics from the Warhol Factory days seem to have been the cream of the crop, low 4-digits, tops, There was nothing big or rare or especially valuable, and it's hard to imagine there is anything left from that.

If I have the timing of events correctly, his tax troubles popped up in London on his first trip there after skedaddling from Hudson. (The many long expensive mobile calls he had to make back to the States.) I assumed these tax obligations may have stemmed from the Sean Patrick Maloney job. It's not as though hr had many other streams of significant revenue.

His regular peripatetic lodgings are dirt cheap, at least the ones in London and Paris; the London place is about £900 a month at full regular rate. He notes this is less than half the what he was paying (from somewhere) for his Hudson Faux Loft. We know he doesn't splurge on food, or theatre tickets if there are press seats to be had for free. He walks everywhere to save a couple pounds on the tube or bus.

Your point about who is paying for the many flights is a good one. I'd guess he did at the start and then played the little wounded bird act and got his brother to cover some of the complex network of flights post tumble: Paris-NYC-Santa Fe-San Francisco-NYC-Mississippi-Asheville-NYC-Provincetown-NYC-London --something like that.

Not sure what those 11 or so one-way trips cost but it could have been a fair chunk of money. Money it's difficult to imagine that he has. If he just made a simple annual trip the the U.S., he could maybe manage, but all those bookings between small town airports add up...

His pensioner income could probably cover his meager spending in Europe, More so if he had any talent for looking for cheap travel but surely he's terrible at that It's all the flying across the pond and the puddle jumping in the U.S. that put his budget in peril. Probably the brother springs for the Mississippi leg (then the Asheville leg to be rid of him), and some more legs of the U.S. tour. I'll be surprised if he is as generous in 2024.

I think the clue here is the money Sean Patrick gave him. He knows people with more money than sense. You can say you don't think people are handing him vast sums of money, when if fact they did. The Sean Patrick grift was a year ago, not ancient history.

As for the airline tickets, he's likely paying by debit card. And he's going long distances, so he's racking up miles. I think it's also likely people are gifting him miles. (And don't tell me people don't do this. I do it every year. Just not to Bav.) He's got his social security going into a checking account, along with his Substack subscription money. And don't underestimate how many of the fraus want to throw money at him for no reason, so he probably has more subscribers than we might imagine, and they are mostly not reading his shit, they just pity him.

The biggest grift he's pulling off now, and he's "playing in our faces" as the kids say, is the press tickets. He should not be getting them. He is not a theater critic, or any sort of employed, legitimate journalist. He just posts a lot of crap on social media. If he lost the press tickets, his whole house of cards would crumble. Bye bye pilgrim-flaneur-culture-vulture. At that point he's just the homeless and toothless narcissistic cunt we know him to be, wandering around shoving fistfuls of cat hair pah at young baristas.

What was Maloney thinking?? It's insane to have damaged his political standing just to throw some money to his husband's old pal. .Though it does point up something that we underestimate – Uncle does have a talent for friendship. I keep thinking that press officers will eventually tire of his constant begging for seats, but so far he's getting away with it. Surely, though, the flood of free tickets will slow to a trickle. Then it will just be more and more reports of how "I got a partial view seat in row Q of the Upper Circle for five quid and two shillings, but at the interval moved to an empty aisle seat in the stalls. Meet my new friend Petunia, who looked alarmed when I first sat next to her but when I told her about my shoulder she said that she was broke a bone in her foot. Everything connects. Next week we are going to meet up at Patisserie Valerie. She took a photograph of me in the foyer. Onward."

Not that he seemed ever to have been a man of substance, but he's such a miserable and rather horrifying character now. I suspect a lot of his luncheons with "old friends" (and new agents) are probably cut short by his host rushing off to some pressing engagement, and throwing some money his way.

"How is your hotel? Hostal then? You know I had the guest bedroom made into my office and, well, it's completely unfit to be seen, let alone used as a guest room." Lunch + excuse why Uncle Fester can't be hosted + $1000 go away money (or a stack of Pret a Manger or AirBnB gift cards or a Visa gift card = Obligation resolved resolved until the next time the host doesn't manage to get trapped into another lunch or dinner.

Imagine that Mississippi poor mouth, meth mush mouth, whining away for a whole meal about his sad scrapings at the bottom of life. No doubt more than a few bolt and quick put some cash (or equivalent) donation in his pocket so that their names stay in good grace and he doesn't try to embarrass them too much.

[quote]We know he doesn't splurge on food

Actually, he does, r131. He may not be dining in the finest of restaurants, but his daily visits to Cho Alins when he was in NYC, and his buying a prepared chicken every weekend....these are completely unnecessary expenses.

He could very easily go shopping and prepare meals at "home" - but then he can't inflict himself on others and be seen.

His numbers are way, way down. He’s become too long in wayward tooth- even for the fraus.

Time to reconsider that senior living situation he left!

It isn't that he's "long in the wayward tooth", r136. It's got nothing to do with his age.

It's to do with that fact that he has nothing to offer, and people are starting to realize that.

He is a fool to deliberately live away from a family that welcomes him into their homes. As we age, that is the only connection that matters. Not the memories of photo-ops with celebrities who never call or write.

You can bet after that ignominious taxpayer-funded grift Maloney allowed on his watch, immediately before he lost his Congressional seat, neither he nor his husband would want anything more to do with Aunt Fester. That's her problem--boasting like an idiot on social media about the fake "job" she was given, and then have it be splashed all over news outlets, bit her right in the ass. She's sooo fuckng stupid--just a lifetime of moronic decisions, and all with that toxic attitude. Cunt.

[quote]As we age, [family] is the only connection that matters. Not the memories of photo-ops with celebrities who never call or write.

That all depends on one's family. Indeed, his seem decent enough to host him and probably look after some of his affairs and perhaps offer some help -- under conditions we don't know. (The brother was burned before when he decided against paying for a second round of recovery therapy, by Uncle F berating him for what might have been a difficult yet sound decision.(

The sister who lives in a camper has it all together compared to Uncle F. She's carved out a way of living small that works for her, it seems. And of the world went upside down she and the girlfriend wouldn't be the first lesbians to occupy a rich physician brother's guest house in the Deep South.

Uncle F. is a different story. He was "cut from the herd," he spent his whole life being the escaped sissy from Mississippi. He can't go "home" again. And so he's made a circuit of London-Paris-NYC and probably in the not too distant future London-Paris-Mississippi - if he can manage not to cause scandal with any young men of the town and to not embarrass his hosts. Too much.

He won't be able to afford 11 stop U.S. legs of his American Tours for too long. I suspect this last was a practice run toward summering in Mississippi.

I think, R139, that his problem (for once) was NOT boasting about something. If he had gone public about how he was writing something for Maloney's office, or doing some other work, it would have seemed more aboveboard. Instead, his only mentions of Maloney and his husband Florke on Facebook were about social events they did together. $40,000 is a lot of money to be given for seemingly doing nothing at all.

R141, in that link above it mentioned Sessums boasting on Facebook about working for Maloney, all the while leaving a trail of his travels with no discernible actual work being done for Maloney, all discovered by that reporter. I suppose he could have at least done the bare minimum and written a few things, but since he didn't really have an actual job to do (nothing that was defined, anyway), the good deed Maloney thought he was doing for his huband's "old friend" really backfired. I like Maloney but that was a really bad look for him. Fester may have helped in Maloney losing his seat.

R141 has a really good understanding of the situation, I think. I was the DL-er who was in the same train as Uncle F this summer - though I was doubted and lambasted for saying so. I also knew him back in the days of ACT-UP,, where as others have said, he was slumming.

His brother will likely continue to host him in his shed from time to time. Brookhaven is a small nowhere town (sometimes the train doesn't even stop there), but his brother has carved out a decent life there. It isn't a place where Uncle F can deign to live.

The sister mostly lives in a camper, but also owns a home.

I thought his sister sold the camper?

She sold one, r144. She and her wife owned two.

They also have a house....somewhere, that they mostly rent out.

R142, the article says he boasted of *knowing* Maloney and Florke, which he did. He never mentioned he was working for him. My point is that if he'd said "had a lovely dinner with M & F, as I'm hard at work on Project X for his office," it would have seemed more legit. You're right that it is a bad look for Maloney. It's incomprehensible that he was be so idiotic.

No disrespect, R132, but you don't have to be Suze Orman to know that a DEBIT card withdraws money immediately from an existing account!! (which he does not have). And the Social Security Administration is not in the habit of mailing checks to various addresses all over the world, so I think it's fairly obvious that they are going to Doctor Brother's address and that he is very likely the payee, which gives him the ability to access the money and dole it out accordingly.

And speaking of Doctor Brother, I am not so sure that he is "welcomed" into their home (which was absolutely lovely, btw) I got a distinct chill that came right through the computer screen during that visit. Doctor and Mrs Brother took off on an "anniversary trip" while he was there, leaving him to (ostensibly) dog sit, and he made a few very veiled references about feeling "welcomed" and "wanted" and that kind of shit.

I believe the $30K from Maloney is long, LONG gone, and as soon as the IRS got wind of it, they landed on him like flies on shit. There was an investigation into Maloney's campaign spending, and yes, this folly resulted in his losing an election that should have been a slam dunk. And for all we know, this IRS mishap may very well have screwed up the deal for the senior living spot in Hudson, resulting in his speedy exit and sudden decision to become a "pilgrim." And once again, you don't need to be Suze Orman to know that the IRS has VERY long arms, and NEVER forgets a debt - AND they compound their interest very severely, which is why is $45K debt is more than the $30K he got from Maloney! I'd love to see his 2022 tax return - not to mention Doctor Brother's reaction to this latest financial boondoggle.

Airline tickets are going nowhere but UP, and while I'm not sure what the going rate is from London to Tangiers is, but it's a pretty good bet that airfare eats up most of his income, which is ridiculous when you think about it. And I agree that his following is really dropping off - including his Substack - and I don't think anyone is "gifting" him with miles or cash - after the broken shoulder in Paris, once or twice there were one or two suggestions for a go fund me, which were met with crickets....

The jig is going to be up eventually, and I think sooner rather than later. If he was smart (which he isn't) he would drop all the pretense, find himself a little cottage rental somewhere in Mississippi, and attempt to create a persona like Harper Lee or Flannery O'Connor. OK, maybe a once a year theater trip up to NYC, but that's it. Instead he continues to traipse around London, going to the ballet, annoying baristas, and blabbing about "the light where there is no light." It would be pathetic if he wasn't so INSUFFERABLE.

But R121, the cost of being a lecherous nuisance is free

Joke aside, agreed.

Uncle Fester's scheme might be sustainable if he were frugal with his limited resources. If he could somehow stay in London for 6 months (and at under £900/month, why not) then Paris for 3 months then to some little cottage that Doctor Brother Man rescues and restores in Mississippi (to keep him somewhat at arm's length for 3 months), I wouldn't begrudge him. I don't even begrudge him the gall of asking for press seats; clearly they are given away without the least scrutiny, and the fault lies there.

If he spent 3 months doing the Camino in Spain then hopped to London for 6 then back to pick up El Camino where he left off, that's all perfectly legal in terms of visa laws. But penury and simplicity doesn't suit him; he has to have ceremonies and customs and velveteen riding helmets and crusty Prada trainers from which his feet, fat with the, are bursting (but don't tell him, because he thinks they look kicky and has rolled his pant legs up toward the lower thigh, the better to show off the look.). He has to make repeated trips to Oxford buying tickets (mark your calendars) for some "important" play that he simply must see 3 times to fathom its nuances yet never writes about beyond some FB gibberish. When there are no press seats he has to buy them (only 39 quid! - or the equivalent the better if a week's worth of half priced past-expiry spinach plops, maybe with a bit of blue cheese for an extra tang of grizzlyness.

I don't think everyone over 60 should go live their family and prepare to die, never going anyplace, never doing anything. I don't begrudge his wanderings or to what country or what family member his Social Security check is deposited. It is, though, apparent the "spiritual" aspect of his journey and his need to show off and jet about (with little advance planning it seems) will catch up to him right quick as they might say in Mississippi.

That and the pomposity along the way are the show. A man leading a humble life in Section 8 housing in Hudson? Snooze. But a man masquerading as press, masquerading as having friends, masquerading as worldly traveller? That's a show

*feet, fat with age

The show he puts on is repetitive and tedious.

R148 You nailed it. You're a true and learned Bavologist.

Well said, R148.

Yet again, a photo of a London street in which there is quite a lot of light, enough to cast fairly strong shadows, accompanied by the same portentious, pretentious refrain: "There is Light even when there is no light."

BITCH, the SUN IS OUT. WTF do you mean, "no light"? What the fuck kind of light do you need? Do you need to fall face-first into an old-fashioned Klieg light? Do you want to stare at a blowtorch till your retinas burn to a crispy black crumble? Are you waiting for a nuclear bomb flash?

R153 Agreed. The "light" posts make him sound positively demented.

Why is he so in awe of there being light during the day when the sun is out?

R153 Yes, that's what R153 just said.

*meant for R155

Wanna try that again, r156?

Let's keep our snarking to the Bav, shall we?

Photographic evidence of the last time the jeans were washed. Though they may have just grown legs and walked off him. From the Hudson 'loft' days

🤦‍♂️

The Light

She got lost again last night. It really is very difficult to get lost in London, especially around where he was going.

Dumb fuck.

If our Mr. Magoo would chisel clean that greasy, nacreous layer of permacum and spinach plops splatter from his eyeglass, what a world would be revealed.

Sadly, it would reveal, too, the folly of "the light."

A blog - or book - about being an elderly gay man with few resources and a checkered past would actually be something I would read and might be helpful to many people.

He's determined not to write it.

I get it - it's scary. But confronting his situation head-on might be something to could also alleviate it.

"that could"

So much bad writing to unpack this morning. In a post about her London life, there are a number of tortured sentences. I give you:

"I do miss my art and my midcentury furniture - I will confess that. But most of all I miss my aesthetic and walking back into its embrace knowing that that was my home: placement and art and the choices of objects I had made and how I lived spatially. Now the placement and spatial aspect is how I have placed myself spatially within the wider world. My lived-in-the-moment life is my newer aesthetic - spareness is my new spatiality."

"All mornings are mournings for me in some deep and abiding way."

"As for living each day with loss - each morning being a mourning - I think I am learning anew about that in my in-the-moment life for each lived moment is then lost because one is living the next one. I shed my life of owning so I could own this: loss is not sorrow but living because I lose each moment on my way to living in the next one. There is a steady stillness in that ever onward present moment. I have come to believe in simultaneous time and not the concept of its being linear. Indeed, reality is just the concept needed to rationalize the realm where humans hover. And if we are lucky other sentient creature-like beings hover alongside us - humans, dogs, cats, our other selves - as we artfully navigate our spatial aspects in this realm we call the world, a whirl of hope and grief and shedding and love and looking and longing and for but a moment (which is all the moments) taking one lifetime breath before another realm is breached and we learn that breathing is overrated and we become the emotion that others feel. We are the moment in which others live."

There is also a despicable justification of ridding himself of the cats, which he says he wouldn't have done if the dogs were still alive.

Help us, Ted Rodgers. You are our only hope.

That made me nauseous trying to parse during reading. He is an absolutely terrible writer.

Finn & Matty, Archie & Teddy. Will no one think of me?

Holy fucking hell. What brain rot is this?

And he thinks he is brilliant with words.

R167 - That “philosophical” ramble sound like something a freshman liberal arts major would mutter while sitting on a dorm room floor at 2am during their first experience with shrooms.

He’s going to be playing Beatles albums backwards next. 🥱

More awful writing. It looks like he is trying to make aLight a thing.

"Small-town London. This morning as I turned out my garden gate to start the day in the glorious Light, I spotted a parrot or parakeet soar by my and aLight in the tree I was about to pass. I said hello aloud to the bird and the Light and the aLighting. I crossed the street to take a photo of the bird but it began to soar again with a bit of the tree’s offering on its beak. A lovely start to the day."

Ffs Bav, stfu!!!

Spare a thought for the person sitting next to him at the Royal Opera House:

"...Reece Clarke in Don Quixote. When he danced this scene last Saturday afternoon I actually moaned in visceral appreciation."

[QUOTE] “I actually moaned in visceral appreciation."

Just threw up in my mouth.

He just used the word “artful” three times in a single post.

His aesthetic 🤣

Piles of tatty old magazines, a mattress with filthy, crumpled bedding on a floor, some well-worn cliched furniture and the REEK of cat piss

Also, posting pic of the dead dog in an effort to tug at the frauen heartstrings…

A dead dog he allowed to perish in agony cos he wouldn’t pay the few quid to have it humanely euthanised

...or cremate the poor thing after it did die!

Every morning I am mourning...I bet he thought that sounded really really clever.

I'm just surprised he didn't do a sashay into the Eagle last night when he was lost in Vauxhall.

Has he just discovered homophones in the last week or so? Or is he sinking into a dementia-accelerated second childhood?

I’m reading Olivia Manning’s Balkan trilogy and our boy seems a Prince Yakimov to the letter.

R176, "artful" is one of his special words, along with "limn," "imbue", "grace" and "spinach".

R180, it's amazing how he bleats on about being lonely and sexless, and yet never seems to venture near the Eagle, or Comptons, or any other gay place where he might meet someone. He'd rather spend his time in cafes and theatre foyers, gawking at 20somethings, and then complain that he is a tragic lonely person.

R183 I think it's a genuine fear he'd end up using again

Hey grandma, No one gives a hot hairy shit that you found Sam Waterston attractive back in the day. You’re fucking gross. R184, agree. But how pathetic of an addict must you be that you can’t fathom any human contact without drugs? Now, I’ve had my share of partying, and I’m no Angel…but I’m also “of a certain age” and realized my days of the glittering disco ball are a mere memory. I’m younger than the bav, so it really stymies me when I see old men looking to “pnp”. Am I judging? Yeah, probably. Does that make me different than a lot of people? NO. I can’t stand old queens like him. He is where he is for a reason…and he’s had more opportunities than many. He’s a piece of shit. ps: I’m very proud of my restraint in using caps. See? I can grow and change.

R185 LOL!

So, according to that pic he posted of Sam Waterston, his type is…Ned.

This thread is already grey but the responses have refrained from naming names excluding the haughty British editor

Not grey for me, R188. There was one slip at least, I think.

The artful restaurant check dodger!

He's really sucking up hard to Justin Vivian Bond these days, and getting no response. And I don't mean just reposting their takes on the middle east, but over on Instagram, Bav is desperately mentioning JVB regarding performances, etc., and trying to get a response.

If you know anyone from Hudson, You know everyone is on to his shit, which makes this extra pathetic.

Wow. His "magazine" account on Instagram is getting 10, 12 likes a post. Occasionally a super popular post soars into the low 30-likes.

Why bother?

I suppose he relies on his eponymous "magazine" that's only IG selfies for those press tickets.or maybe, for "name of media organization," he just says "At-large!" and does a "how can they possibly not recognize me?" eye roll.

Oh oh...mention of him being cut from the herd by Henry Geldzahler

"Small-town London. I spent the rainy afternoon inside the National Portrait Gallery soaking up the David Hockney exhibition. Made three circuits looking and longing. My first trip to London in the 1970s was sitting next to David on Freddie Laker’s airline and my then boyfriend Tor Seidler and Henry Geldzahler who sat on the row behind us. Spent a lot of time on that trip hanging with David. He and Henry were the first ones to cut me out of the herd. I even have a drawing David did and gave me on that trip next to my bed here in London now 40 years later. I loved this show. I love David. I love that time in my life. I love this one. Everything connects...etc."

[quote] Small-town London. I spent the rainy afternoon inside the National Portrait Gallery soaking up the David Hockney exhibition. Made three circuits looking and longing.

Of course, R193. Under normal circumstances a trail of gold sovereigns couldn't lure this our Culture Vulture into a London or Paris museum. But tempt him with some boldface name of 20th Century fame that he can use a launchpad to talk (yet) more about himself and his specialness, and he's drawn right to it like a pig to a pile of shit.

..wouldn't you love to hear David Hockney's recollections of our pilgrim?

Hey, David! If you're on this thread... help us out here.

I, for one, am grateful for the Bav's insight on the Israel-Hamas conflict. I'm never really sure what to think till I read his latest repost of some article from one of the usual places, along with some faux-compassionate prose. And that goes double for his posts about Trump. it's so hard to know what to think of 45 till you read Bav/Sums it up. I'm glad we have him to bestow his wisdom on the affairs of the age.

His David Hockney museum outfit is ugly. How many black women’s too-tight button-ups and pullovers does he have?

OG Bav is leaving some comments that are really doozies over on FB.

She surely is, r198.

Also, the latest shessie-stack regarding his pets?

The absolute balls of this guy, wanting to be petted for his "grief" for his dearly departed pets.

Just when I thought I couldn't despise him more.

3 circuits of looking and longing at the National Portrait Gallery.... Is that code for cruising the men's room?

If anyone can post screenshots of OG Bav's FB comments it would be much appreciated!

He posted a pic of himself looking like a midget standing next to C. Love. From seven years ago.

Funny, he leaves out the aggressive rimming sessions of Geldzahler’s gelatinous ass, and then drinking his clumpy, fetid, ejaculate. There’s no such thing as a free lunch, and when you’re a “young Nureyev”, the world is your oyster…. SO OPEN WIDE FOR CHUNKY, BITCH!!!

damn, I was doing so well….🤪

He’s just another turd cut from the herd.

He looks demented here

You're really not, r203.

You're grosser than he ever was.

Please stop .

"Yesterday, my friend Ed Gavagan in his moving, deeply sweet and wise and heartbreakingly eloquent eulogy for his wife Sekeena at her funeral which I watched on its live stream on youtube spoke of their path once she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. She asked him what was the path forward for them and he told her that there was none, that they would make the path by walking it and then leave that path behind for others to find because they had made it. My loss of two dogs is nothing like the loss of a man for his wife and the mother of his child even though Archie died of multiple cancers and Teddy of kidney failure and I did witness their slow deaths and cared for them in bodily ways as well as spiritual and emotional ones. Nothing alike and yet so much the same."

Yes, your loss of two pets is indeed nothing like the loss of a wife and mother. Therefore, please do not draw a comparison right after telling us there is no comparison. because otherwise "Sorry, Ed, heard you lost an old dog too" is my takeaway.

R207 - Wow. Even for a supremely deluded narcissist Bav hit a disgusting new low with that one.

Perhaps his mourning friend will get wind of this post and give that messy old fool the ass kicking he desires.

R208, is was a "Jaw? Meet Floor!" moment for me, and I've been following his misadventures on DL for several years by now.

I mean...how do you write that, read it after you wrote it and then hit "publish" (or whatever)?

Is he really that dense?

Messhy as ever.

Unbelievable.

R209...don't you know that every morning is a mourning for our Bav. Not only has he been comparing his grief for a pair of dogs to a man's wife and mother of his children dying of cancer...his whole Shitstack 'column' this week is just a repost of what he already wrote on Facebook on Monday! No new content or writing that you couldn't have accessed on Facebook for free...and people are paying him for this shit?

I really think his experience cut from the herd (aka whoring himself) to Henry and David in his salad days makes him think he can do the same to Ned.

Ned honey this washed up has been cannot do anything for your 'acting' career. Sure he might have a few selfies with famous people but to know him is to loathe him. Keep well away from his punched lasagne and fetid mouth.

Small town my colon. I have just discovered homophones, which, for this homo who loves using phones, is truly a wonderous thing. Phones can sometimes remind me of the bones of old relationships that pipped until I slipped and tripped. Bones are something dogs like to eat, and once I had two dogs, who died, and part of me died with them (mostly the part that buys dog food). My friend Ed? His wife is dead. She had cancer in her head. and on her astrological chart, rising just behind Pluto, also the name of a famous dog, who would be dead too if he was a real dog as opposed to an animated character. Which brings us to the overriding question of Prufrock's Love Song: what the hell is Goofy?

R206. How dare you. Go fuck yourself

If they're ever doing a remake of Nosferatu...

No make up required. Finally he will get to put those Juilliard acting skills to use (see Floozies)!

Well-done, r214!

Hey, I said please, r215. Don't get yer drawers in a twist or you'll have to scrubbo them. This thread ain't about you, Pilgrim

:)

Yikes, r216! So much for sleeping tonight.

"Death breath better bitter."

From the pets article.

Oh honey.

This is not the bit of e.e. cummings wordplay you think it is.

It sounds more like a snappy 1930s radio spot for some kind of mouthwash with gasoline in it.

And of course at the end of the diatribe comparing the death of his dog to his friend grieving for his dead wife he reminds for the 767,854th time that he lost both his parents as a kid.

He's 67. He has had 60 years to move on from that...I bet Dr Brother and Whacky Sister don't mention their childhood bereavements every 5 minutes. Of course it's a convenient excuse for the whole 'meth episode' of his life.

R217. Ok. I can’t stay mad. It’s just not in me! I’m a lover not a fighter and I suppose sometimes I get carried away. ‘Tis the holidays and all…SPINACH PLOPS FOR EVERYONE!!!

Gawd bless our hearts, every one, r220.

First round of plops at Cho Alins is on me.

It seems like time for a rendition of Floozies…

Please don't.

Hot Diggity Damn.

BwahHahaha!

That's actually cool. I just didn't want to see his face in a preview.

R213 I agree completely, and the thing he's missing is that Henry and David had influence and money. He's a hobo with a few dozen Facebook followers who are basically nobodies on the edge of dementia. I'm honestly surprised he hasn't blocked OG Bav at this point, because her posts are teetering on offensive. He has to be embarrassed by the quality (or lack thereof) of his followers on social media.

Even the quality of his haters here on DL has tanked, with people like R206 continually whining about what he feels we should be able to discuss here.

Go post somewhere else, you sputtering, hysterical scold!

I don't think I will.

R224 LOL!

R227 Okay then at the very least stop WW your own posts over and over. We can see that Priscilla.

[quote]It is the first time I've conflated my social media platform posts with the column. I made an exception for Archie and Teddy. Forgive me - since so much of the posts and the column is about forgiveness.

I do not think it is the first time. Doesn't he do this all of the time?

The latest post from Small Town Bedlam.

"Small-town London. Friday Light. Make a wish. Not knowing the word was acknowledging me as I acknowledged the Light was the wish - acknowledging, being acknowledged, the Light, living in the moment of the wish that whooshes by …"

"Small town London. I farted. It whooshed by into the light. I made a wish. Sure enough, it came true - the sun came up in the east."

R232, someties there's light even when there's light or even when there's no light.

If you put a match to your farts - THERE IS LIGHT!!

That candid shot of Uncle shows that his Instagram "light" seems to have failed him!

He sounds fucking deranged talking about “light” all the time.

Omg his “tribute” to Lauren Hutton (another wingnut, but loveable) is really all about HIM, as usual. HE wrote some shitass play, wanted her to read it, and she wasn’t interested. HE would mope around some bagel shop, spying on her and her friends. HE saw her on South Beach one “dusk” when he wanted to get railed up the ass, but ran into her again.!! Thank you R226, I certainly tried to take the high road with the scolding, but I’m glad someone else isn’t that thrilled with it. I think my keen observations are spot on, and the finger wagging by R227 comes off as shrill and profoundly feminine. PLEASE STOP. There, I said please also.

Never stop R237 !

R237 You're the best!

I don't even know where to start with that Lauren Hutton post, so I'll start here:

"This was before I was even at Andy Warhol's Interview as Executive Editor or at Vanity Fair where I framed the kind of fame she had but always found a way of handing back to us framers. "

This is your weekly reminder that Bav worked at Andy Warhol's Interview as Executive Editor and also at Vanity Fair.

Again with fucking up with shows. He double-booked, and had to waste yet another ticket.

Also, what's with the repeated photos in front of the dresses?

R241 He uses "quid" six times in that post, and threw in a bonus "pence."

Also: "But it did make me realize that sometimes my cultural engagement is a kind of addiction and can feel like bingeing the way I could on meth at the depths of my using."

I'm actually glad he had this insight, because watching him run from one performance to the next really feels like he's mainlining the shit.

^^Always remember Bav - wherever you go, there you are.

“Running away from thine problems maketh not a ‘pilgrimage’” —The Light

Why. Can’t. This. Twat. Use. iCal. Or. Google. Maps.

#loser

Ooh I just found £30 in my wallet mixed in with some € from a recent trip and Heathrow overnight layover. Alas I arrived too late for the “theatah” and arose too early for the Light.

From atop Notting Hill I sensed a shushing solemn shadow creeping into my direct line of The Light. When I looked for its source, I saw that it was Pan, my flat mate. I had never seen Pan outside of our shared flat and was beginning to think that perhaps he was a ghost who was confined, shackled in spirit, to the flat, perhaps by a suicide or a drug overdose that befell years earlier in his room.

Pan did not notice me so I took a selfie, pretending to capture the Light of a statue in a nearby park of what I think may have been Carson McCullers, but really intending (which is intentional and sensuous-onal in its limning state) to capture Pan himself in an unguarded petering of Pan alone on the avenue.

Onward.

R247 at this point I don't know if that is one of his actual posts or not.

It’s fake, but I’ll take that as a compliment, R248. My first attempt!

Thank you for sharing -R240 “This was ….. where I framed the kind of fame she had but always found a way of handing back to us framers. " Bav’s musings make me think of a bad rendition of “The Windmills of Your Mind.” “Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel As the images unwind, like the circles that you find In the windmills of your mind!” The Windmills of the Windbag’s Mind”

LMAO

This is like watching Grey Gardens play out in real time. If Little Edie were 50% less talented and 75% less attractive, she’d be a shoe-in for Bav. The alopecia, the squalor, the cats, the delusions of being a bon vivant, the nostalgia for a fame that never actually existed.

He’s only a few quid away from having to subsist on Fancy Feast plops.

I like how OG Bav respond to the Lauren Hutton post with a detailed reminiscence of her parents fucking. And before our resident prude loses her fucking mind, please note I have daintily cropped out OG Bav's name.

"Plus, I hate wasting a pence within the budget with which I live such a life now."

NOBODY in England would say this. You'd say "wasting a penny". He has no ear for language whatsoever.

[quote] NOBODY in England would say this.

Ah, but the flyover fraus who compose the bulk of his social media audience think they do speak like that -- and that's the audience to whom he's playing. Dropping a pence here, a quid there and he's thisclose to being thought of as being as English as Henry Higgins himself, Guv'nor. At least in his meth-addled mind. He's looking for topics which will garner more SM engagement -- the recent flood of pet posts (the fraus love the doggies) as well as him doubling down on "curating" current event posts. He's reverted to a greatest-hits mode, throwing up previously-popular topics to see what might stick. The culture vulture selfies aren't doing it, as most of his throng don't know of the nuances of ballet or opera and can't bring anything to his perceived on-line salon. Dead pets, dead parents and broken body parts are the big sellers, even though we could write those posts ourselves, as they've fallen into Mad Libs territory.

His response to Laura Hutton's quite accurate assessment of Bourbon street in New Orleans today.

[quote]Calm down, Miss Hutton. Calm down. And listen to that sultriest of siren calls: New Orleans residents reeling off the reasons why “the weather don’t matter and the neighbors don’t mind.”

What a twat

*Lauren* Hutton

“Meet Eloise from Djibouti, AFRICA. Eloise and I met (cosmically, if you will — or won’t) at Madame Tussaud’s this afternoon. I had decided to pop in after a burger and spinach lunch to visit my favorite new likeness there, Lady Gaga with whomest I’ve recently traded “likes” on Instagram photos. I felt like Lady and I had developed a connection and I needed to ferret out a facsimile of her form here since she is currently across the pond and not bodily present, corporeally.

As I was frozen in awe, looking at Lady’s figure, verklempt at the verisimilitude, Eloise (an AFRICAN woman tourist) came up to me and began to touch my face and then was stunned when I moved to look at her to ask her to take a photo of me and Lady for posterity. She thought that I was one of the wax figures! I told her that I was famous enough in several circles and once entertained an invitation to have my own likeness installed there. However, there is only one of me (some would say, thank god!) and that the world, a world weary and wanderlusting after a post-pandemic, post-Gazareali-amas massacre, should be satisfied with he/him.

I asked her if I could post this photo and she said what I’m assuming is the word “yes” in Afrikaans.”

R258 - Five stars. Hits all the right notes.

Eloise from Djibouti.

I thought of my own booty. And how it resembles a punched lasagne.

The punched lasagna is like scrubbo me draws. It gets me every time.

I love how this twat inserts himself whenever anyone comments about their time in London. “So glad you enjoyed it here in the little town/my home base. “

BITCH, PLEASE.

R262 Thank you. His "home base" is Backswamp, Mississippi and he carries all of the racist/sexist shit that comes with it.

"Ooh.. Let me post a picture of a young black woman. This proves I'm not racist!"

After two days of sucking up to Lauren Hutton on his socials and Shitstack, he let the mask slip. As R256 pointed out, the culmination of all his addled reminiscences about LH were that he fucking hates her and is telling her to "Calm down," not once, but twice, for all to see. Because she didn't read his rambling self-indulgent play, or answer the psychotic letter he sent her when she was hospitalized.

I honestly think he's in a constant fit of burning rage because everyone he interacted with back in the 90s is well-situated and affluent, and living their best lives, and he's homeless, toothless, scamming press tickets, and looking for Airbnb's that don't cost too many "quids."

I'm not sure of the time frame of the quote I posted in r256, r263.

He's pulling so many articles from so many places from so many times, and not always attributing them.

I do wonder if he has permission for all of them, especially the photos.

R264 I thought it was particularly creepy that he said he decided not to post nudes he'd found of LH's early photoshoot. You're right that he rarely attributes photos he posts on Substack, and I think it's a safe bet he doesn't have permission to post any of them.

Bav Bingo!

First column, L. to R.: "The Light"; small town someplace that is not a small town; dead or abandoned pet; quids and pences; "Onward".

Second column, L to R.: snippy response to critical comment on social media; picture of famous diva/beautiful actor he met once for twenty minutes in 1992; disgusting food; picture of self with past social/professional acquaintance with the latter looking oddly pained; bullshit homonyms

Third column, L. to R.: Gordian Knot syntax; Heather Chandler's Box of 50-Cent Words; Bav's caved-in-looking little goblin grin; leering reference to attractive young man; "pilgrimage"

Fourth column, L. to R.: reference to sprained/broken/ruptured/prolapsed body part; incorrect use of 50-Cent Word; "paying it forward"; "Meet (unsuspecting random pedestrian)"; reminder that he used to work at Interview or some other media operation

Fifth column, L. to R.: Substack plug; press tickets minus him providing any press; cringe-inducing innuendo; birthday greetings to celebrity who could not care less; orphanhood.

This might also make a drinking game.

R266 I love you / I honestly love you.

And it reminded me in some deep way - call it a disturbing beauty - of the young people … slaughtered in a darker ritualized frenzy of hatred by Hamas.

Couldn’t bear to copy the whole unhinged diatribe but what utter fuckery. Imbuing his thoughts on a dance performance with a massacre.

[quote]Keep sewing the seeds of love.

Oh, DEAR!

Like we will NEVER sew our threadbare clothing.

Who's Jake? Whoever he is....he in danger gurl.

Jake is hot.

"Happy birthday to Jodie Foster, who fosters her talent the way some people foster children. No wait, Martha Plimpton, keep mixing up my lesbians. Jodie is the one who looks like she works in private security. Martha is the one who looks like she could fix your car by looking at it mean. Speaking of which, does anyone know a cheap mechanic. I crashed an Army/Navy game the other day and think I blew a SEAL. Onward."

Jake is the new Ned.

I'm so sick of his "journalistic antennae" and how he now wants to give election advice to Biden and report on the Gaza/Israel crisis. He rattles on about how he can keep two ideas in his head at once, like anyone in that part of the world is going care.

I would encourage him to go to Gaza as he cares so much.

Smalltown Gaza. Got caught leering at a young Palestinian man and now everything connects...except my head and shoulders.

Why the fuck is Billy Crudup giving him an interview?

So easy for Uncle to get on his soapbox and preach to the choir... empty gestures.

R274 it’s like he fancies himself a head of state who is expected to comment on political situations along with the birthdays and deaths of notable individuals.

[quote]Patterns are the patter of a little feet we cannot stop hearing. They are the echoes of echoes. Their chamber is a life. The chamber door when found and opened: a finally sublime silence. Death? I don't know. Death: the great Don't Know. Once in the kind of meeting I attended for a dozen years - one based on surrendering to stepped-up systems and patterns and iterations of ourselves - we were talking about God and a young man sitting to my right raised his hand and said, "God is everything I don't know." I liked that. I like how infinite that sounded to me in my dumbfounded wander through all this, my dumbfounded wonder.

He was clearly high on SOMETHING last night 🤣

Jake, you in danger gurl. Unless you’re a hooker of course.

R279, I honestly thought you had written that as a parody post. Wow - he is an AWFUL writer. Just horrific. Does he think that’s deep?

I decided to just let it stand on its own without comment, r281.

I didn't know what to say about it. This doesn't seem like just stupidity and a bad writing. There's something seriously wrong with him.

I doubt he's using, because he doesn't have the money. This almost sounds like some kind of brain damage.

Forgive the extraneous "a" in r282.

Uncle seems to be aping latter day drug-addled Tennessee Williams with his constant repetitions... I, too, don't think he's got the dough for drugs... maybe his druggie past has hastened some form of dementia?

He is off to the races today with that ridiculous diatribe - which, btw, I do not think actually occurred on a "walk with a friend along the canals of Little Venice..." He labored over this drivel alone in his little room, congratulating himself all the while on his command of language...!!

The holidays are coming, so we should see more cracks appearing in the armor soon...!

I knew someone who went untreated too long for syphilis who spoke/wrote this way, r284.

His Biden birthday post is a confusing mess. He starts out pointing out his age-related challenges, then swerves to this:

[quote]I know everyone ages differently - and the 77-year-old fascist is not only a sociopath but an increasingly confused and addled one - but to ignore the should-we-take-away-his-car-keys aspect of all this is rather addled itself.

[quote]And if a woman had had as much work as he's had done - not counting his hair enhancements - we'd be rolling our eyes at her. But men get away with this too like so much else comparatively.

Obviously, he was talking about Trump - who doesn't really appear to have had any work to as far as I can tell, but a few of his followers seem to have thought he was talking about Biden. Two of them chastised him, calling him mean-spirited, and those posts were swiftedly removed.

A fine one to talk about being addled...

“I came across” = I haunt the Stage Door for selfies

It’s so hysterical to me that he no longer trolls Malin & Goetz for free samples and annoying selfies. Wonder what actually happened?? That whole chapter was really cringe. NO ONE CARES ABOUT THE SALESGIRL WHO WAS NICE TO YOU. They are there to make money, not fuck around with a weird old man in filthy clothes. READ THE ROOM, CUNT.

“ When. she asked if I lived in London and I told her my narrative of having let go of almost all of my possessions in order to live this pilgrim's life - how I keep finding new ways of letting go and shedding and even today realized I live so much in the moment right now that I shed each previous moment and even shed anticipation for the next, that I no longer believe I manifested this life I am now living because I only manifest now am and is, that's it. "So thank you for being the is to my am right now," I said and we laughed and she actually turned and grabbed me by the shoulders and told me how much she wants to do what I am doing and has been thinking so much about it. That her body was vibrating and she was getting chills at the connection to what I was telling her.”

Oh brother.

Sounds like her Eve's Rib went off.

The post about The Color Purple ends. And then following the last period, he gratuitously added “@oprah”.

I find this funny for some reason.

Why, R279, sounds like he's hearing the magical song of the Dinkey-bird!

In an ocean, 'way out yonder,

(As all sapient people know)

Is the land of Wonder-Wander,

Whither children love to go;

It's their playing, romping, swinging,

That give great joy to me

While the Dinkey-Bird goes singing

In the amfalula tree!

"...I live so much in the moment right now that I shed each previous moment and even shed anticipation for the next..." Which is why he constantly references his brushes with celebrity greatness of two decades ago...

Maybe by "shed anticipation" he means anticipating living in his brother's shed?

Ha ha R295. Lmao.

[quote]When. she asked if I lived in London and I told her my narrative of having let go of almost all of my possessions in order to live this pilgrim's life - how I keep finding new ways of letting go and shedding and even today realized I live so much in the moment right now that I shed each previous moment and even shed anticipation for the next, that I no longer believe I manifested this life I am now living because I only manifest now am and is, that's it.

What the holy fuck is he going on about? Judging from the Hudson 'loft,' he had no more possessions than could be folded up and stuck in a closet. Here are two images, one of his 'Hudson 'loft' in 2022, the other of his Soho apartmemt in 2007.

From his repeated descriptions of great sacrifice of earthly possessions, you might think he was a fucking Wildenstein or a Guggenheim at least, putting it up at auction and heading off to the nunnery for the chaste life.

He has no more accumulation of prized possessions than many 40-something gay men with middling jobs not involving boldface names and not with large salaries and expense accounts. A few bits and bobs of midcentury whatever and some small artworks. And good for him, enjoy what you enjoy, but the endless whining about his great sacrifice of Art and Design. Just because he worked in San Francisco for 10 minutes doesn't make him Ann or Gordon Getty.

Does he really ramble on about his wanderings and nomad life and broken shoulder and the light to everyone he meets? Good grief. He's that person you desperately try to avoid at a cocktail party because he's such a bloviator.

R298 made me realize the glaringly obvious fact that he doesn’t seem to ever get invited anywhere. No parties, no dinners, except maybe a 1-1 lunch grift or a dinner, pre-free-theater tickets.

Now she’s bragging about Simon Halls having sent her direct links to the entire “Fellow Travelers” series and now she’s finished it all before everyone else has.

Cue staged photo ops with Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey.

The couchless bitch!

R301 she had a leather three seater thing which looked like the most uncomfortable piece of furniture ever made....but it's art/aesthetic etc.

At least in his Soho apartment he had a bedframe and didn't sleep on the floor like a junkie.

R295, the bedroom looks all right. Some classic pieces.

The "loft" just looks...sad. Everything looks laid out like stamps in an album, or items at an estate sale. You need a unifying scheme and diagonals to make a place like that work. And leaning art against the wall is for your first year out of college with four roommates.

Her possessions are, indeed, meager and nothing is distinctive in any way. That three-seater thing really does look uncomfortable--like something in a doctor's waiting room. Considering the money she made in her heyday, that truly is a humble little collection and nothing worth moaning the loss over. What a pathetic, drug-addled cunt.

The money! Her hehday?!

R305, she was a big celebrity journalist at Vanity Fair 87 years ago, DON'TCHA KNOW?!

LMFAO!!!

How much money did she conceivably get back in her “salad days”? Did she really snort/inject all of it?

What a fucking loser.

And now she's down to one meal a day, pestering baristas, accosting total strangers at theaters for conversation and selfies, and posting convoluted diatribes on various topics on his Facebook page. To an increasingly dwindling audience...

No job, no prospects, no partner (and no hope of ever getting one), limited funds, thrift shop rags, grifted tickets, limited family contact, a tendency to expound on tales of past glory and relationships (see MacGraw, Ali), not one real living, breathing friend other than his Facebook archives, and increasing reliance on the kindness of strangers...tramping around London on foot, getting lost, babbling about "the Light..."

None of which stops her from insisting that this boatload of failure is a "pilgrimage" and not the remains of a tattered and pitiful life, replete with pretense, bravado, and very bad writing - and signifying NOTHING. It's very sad -

[quote]How much money did she conceivably get back in her “salad days”? Did she really snort/inject all of it?

I doubt he ever made that much. Probably he had a salary mid-5-figures to rock bottom 6 figures. Not a paltry sum and less so at the time, but not a huge salary. Editors' titles are a bit like titles at a bank: everyone who isn't a teller (or works in the editorial mail room) is a vice-president of something.

The high-flying part of his income was more likely a mostly unchallenged expense account: every meal; every cup of coffee; every pile of clothes sent to the dry cleaners; every taxi; every drink (that he didn't cajole from someone else); every liquor order from Johnson's, every article of clothing, every stack of books from Rizzoli...

She has been a mooch and a grifter all her life. It's ALL she knows.

In a comment about The Color Purple:

[quote]Yeah .. it stakes out a voice you have to adjust your visual ear to hearing as well as the stirring score.

...your visual ear?

R311 he must’ve learned that in the 5 days he was at Julliard.

Our Manny Fester must keep moving frantically all the time or she will die. There's no rest for her. She must document everything, wander aimlessly, grift, bloviate, post. Like the Flying Dutchman, she is a ghost ship that sails the seas forever but can never drop anchor or reach a port.

The day will come -- perhaps soon -- when our grim pill grim will have to stop. She will have to stay in one place, just stay still, at least for a while. Maybe because of illness or injury; maybe because the grifts are failing or the money runs out.

On that day, there will be no more selfies with stiffly smiling strangers to show her fans how many friends she has and how everything cunt-necks. There will be no more photos of random vistas accompanied by panegyrics about "The Light."

That day will be the destruction of the illusion of movement. This is why she had to flee the French hospital where she was getting good care and hop on a succession of planes for an expensive and counterproductive jaunt across the US. Sitting still for a week would have destroyed her fragile psychic house of cards.

If she ever has to stop literally running around, if she ever has an expanse of time looking at 4 walls and a ceiling, she will no longer be able to protect herself from the truth: She has squandered every bit of good fortune she ever had, and she is left to live out her barren last years with no future and nothing -- and no one -- but her worst enemy: Herself.

Bravo R313! Bravo!!

The grim pillage is Grey Gardens set in the Winchester Mystery House. Endless delusion about a long gone, misrepresented past surrounded by the ceaseless, useless hammering of pointless pathetic activity in a vain attempt to drown out reality.

[quote ]I do worry about the hostages being killed in the massive bombing being done by Israel. Nobody ever seems to talk about that.

No, no one ever does - except absolutely everyone, everywhere..

Sorry, fucked that up. Unbelievable that he thinks he's the only one talking about this.

[quote]I do worry about the hostages being killed in the massive bombing being done by Israel. Nobody ever seems to talk about that.

No, no one ever does - except absolutely everyone, everywhere..

Of course she does, R316. What a fucking asshole.

"Took my friend Steve to the Substack party tonight." ALL TOGETHER NOW:

STEVE!!! YOU IN DANGER, GURL!!!

Now he’s posing with Andrew Sullivan. LOL!

It's the Rainbow Tour for Bav!

R313, to draw something of an unflattering parallel, I used to work in art and publishing. I hit a wall (catastrophic injury; loss of my job and then my apartment due to same) and retired to the country (went crawling back to the family farm).

It was the best thing that ever happened to me. And while I did have some great experiences and met some fascinating people, I'm quite content working on my writing, seeing the friends who still enjoy my limited company, tending my little property and feeding my cat.

Maybe the final crisis will be the thing that gives him some peace. Just realizing "I don't have to be this person or deal with these other people any more" can be a life-changing thing.

One caveat - I am fortunate to be in a very liberal, quiet and beautiful community about an hour away from NYC by train. I don't know if I'd be so happy in Mississippi, although I am aware there are beautiful places there too.

Your caveat was his nightmare: an hour away from NYC by train.

She is just completely out of control tonight, even for her. She is now proclaiming that she manifested a role tonight in “Sunset Blvd” and “conflated” her way into appearing in the show via a video of a live sidewalk scene. It’s bizarre.

She also seems to spoil parts of the show unnecessarily. I’m going to be in London for Christmas and had been considering seeing this production and I really don’t appreciate her describing - in detail - the coup de théâtre (which is what she called it).

Andrew Sullivan looks very much the “bamboozled into a photo” with Bav.

"Manifested a role" = knowing the timing of the show well-enough to know when to "happen to be in the neighborhood" in time for the live sidewalk scene.

Nothing happens organically in Bav's World. It's all calculated and contrived.

How many times has "All About Bav" seen this show?

He said himself that he has seen this show three times. He knew where to be and when to get on the screen. How can he express such surprise?

He deliberately inserted himself into the show. That's really screwed up.

I wonder if others will start doing it?

OT, but has anyone seen this production? Is it any good?

Curious how a UK director would reinterpret a quintessentially American story and location.

I hope this cunt drops dead!

R238, that's harsh.

I'd much rather Steve Bannon, Roger Stone and Donald Trump Jr. drop dead.

A classic OG Bav comment on his latest food post in which he whines about being down to one meal a day:

"Being from a medical family myself and working in hospital in surgery as well as you have a brother, nieces and nephews who are medically educated, I just hate to think of you skimping on truly proper nourishment that your brain as wells as your body needs substantial foods in order to function properly. Of course you must know this but I wonder about your slim pickens of only eating one good or full meal per day when you only do those good for very little but calories, croissants, some jam maybe and a coffee in the mornings and maybe oatmeal ? with very little intake of natural vitamin C and other important proteins, minerals and nutrients I am not sure I feel you are getting enough of as you barter your food prices and limit your intake because you are afraid to gain too much weight as much as you walk...sorry when my own mothering instinct kicks in. Errrr...sat-nam + wu wei."

She met Milky Loads Sullivan at her Shitstack party

She is back to “taking people” to see movies and shows. The latest is a post of her taking a person she refers to as a “friend” to see The Color Purple.

I really think this is part of the whole pretend act. Pretend you have friends. Pretend that you have purchased a ticket for them. Snap a picture with said “friend” in front of the poster for the show.

That is the press output she believes justifies the grifter ticket. That and perhaps a passing mention of it in her Shitstack.

The only surprise here is that Oprah’s Instagram handle was not tagged.

Two of the most repellant Provincetown residents to ever draw breath. Oh I forgot, Roy Cohn went there a lot lol

I’m friends with Milky Loads’s ex-husband Aaron (who is lovely and a great actor). Those two were not together as a couple in any sense of the word for a long time prior to the announcement of their divorce this past May.

Milky looks like he would rather be bottoming for a gargoyle than to be in that picture with Bav.

How do Milky and Bav have a conversation since they're both completely self centered narcissists extraordinaire?

And both bald as cue balls. The Refracted Light from all that baldness...

I feel sorry for OG Bav...her loneliness comes through in her comments, and he never does so much as throw her a "thank you" bone...

And we all know he isn't limiting himself to one meal a day to keep his weight down - it's because he's BROKE!! As in DOESN'T HAVE TWO PENCE TO RUB TOGETHER! As in BUSTED, FLAT BROKE!!!!

Much as he likes to think it...Pret ain't cheap. He could actually buy the same stuff in a supermarket and meal prep for a lot cheaper and just cart around a protein plop in a lunch box. But of course there's no Iris or Joan or Jimmy or Julia from Dayton Ohio to bother or maybe a Maybelline from Mississippi (Shut Yo Mouth) to share the narrative with and grab a selfie for Facebook while they just long for a coffee and piece of cake during their day tour around London.

Bav should send him some Carnation Instant Breakfast to be mixed with the rich whole white milk.

Or maybe not…

He could get a lot of daily protein if he started eating other men’s cum.

R334 he’s been there, done that! 👽

I missed that announcement. Was it in the Sunday Styles section? Has there been an essay in the Modern Love column?

Anyone know if the press tickets are tax deductible or treated as a benefit in kind? Would love to make that IRS bill get even higher.

She's the keynote speaker at her bonkers landlady's elderly awards show tomorrow night. Quite the come down from the Vanity Fair Oscar Party.

Will Pan also be in attendance?

Uncle would rather eat out once a day and see and be seen than eat more by eating in... And yeah, that "paying it forward" also does not extend to his FB Fraus...

Tomorrow must be lonely. Purposely alone on Thanksgiving and away from family that helped and welcomed him this year.

[quote]Much as he likes to think it...Pret ain't cheap. He could actually buy the same stuff in a supermarket and meal prep for a lot cheaper and just cart around a protein plop in a lunch box.

The landlady wrote an article about her AirBnB business as an important supplement to her income that funds a couple winter months away in Spain in year. She describes her pricing (about £30/night), and why she avoids long-term tenants preferring the comings and goings who don't start to feel the place is theirs. With the cheap cost, she feels more at ease offering no real kitchen privileges of note.

Uncle Manifester has already tested a couple of her precepts at least: viewing the space more his than, in theory, she likes, and making himself perhaps a little too "at home" redecorating, pah-making in her kitchen and lounging about outside his cell. I was surprised her kooky veneer didn't crack when she came home to find her refrigerator a lab for mold cultures and food gone bad. I thought she might revert to a more hardline version of her rules and say no more to long-term guests. Probably she grins and bears it, taking solace in not having to wash sheets and towels and greet and bid goodbye to a parade of guests.

Give it time. though, Uncle Manifester will fuck up his situation like he did with last year's Paris "atelier," but with some fireworks in London.

IIRC, he is not welcome back to the ”garret” in Paris. He was stalking a cleaning woman and also commenting on the bowel movements of the woman with whom he shared a wall.

Right, R349. He mistakenly thought a return creep of an AirBnB guest had more value than a faithful maid.

Could somebody run this through the Bav-to-English translator for me? Because I think he is crediting his abandoned cats for having a hand (or paw) in the ceasefire:

"Thank, Goddess - specifically Bastet to whom I whispered "thank you" this morning when I read the headlines about the short ceasefire or pause or whatever the diplomatic terminology is and the imminent release of hostages. I was puzzled why that channeled through me even though I do send up thoughts to her in my daily prayers and acknowledgments and mediations but those are about Finn and Matty and their new companion John and the thanks I have that they have a quiet home with him and that I was the earlier conduit to bring them together. And then it dawned on me: Bastet is not only the cat goddess but the Egyptian one. I began to consider, once that dawned on me, that perhaps she and her compatriots actually had a hand in this."

The Ancient Goddess of Bastet could give a tin fuck for the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, sorry.

She's too busy pushing small objects off tables.

R351. Smalltown Bellevue.

The wheels are bound to come off the benevolent tenant/batshit landlady arrangement. I’ve noticed in a few recent posts Bav muses about how he’s settling in to living “most of the year” in London. I suspect she may have felt compassionate regarding the shoulder TRAUMA and allowed him to return this winter … time will tell.

Methinks I have found the source of the press tickets.

This frau is one of his avid followers.

God help all those people at the Old People's Awards tonight. They will be told every detail of the grim pill age. The letting go of almost everything I own, the Smalltown London/Paris/NYC/Hudson, the two dogs that died and the two cats abandoned, the light, Ganesha and Bastet, things that limn and imbue, being a 'tough old coot'....etc etc ad nauseum

And the Blessed Broken Shoulder r356

Everything cunt necks!

In his posts about the missing posters for Israelis, I've noticed he generally only posts the hot ones.

Who invited him to T-Day dinner?

Since he embraces his London-ness so, I don't understand why he is posting about Thanksgiving at all.

I have it on good authority (from Anubis, who is *such* a gossip) that the She-God Bastet does know about our pilgrim, but only because She has heard all about him from Finn and Matty. And let's just say that that Parisian tumble was no accident. A ethereal tabby cat on the subway stairs was their conduit to justice.

“I am your we” 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

He resurrects an Emma Thompson/Tom Cruise story from the "Tales of Former Glory" vault.

Emma sent him a bottle of "champaign" to make up for his missing Thanksgiving in the USA.

R363. Jesus Christ he’s SO fucking stupid!!

Odd that Tom and Emma don't seem to have him on their to-do list anymore.

"I am thankful for being in London today so I can ignore the redefined narrative of white folks genocidally stealing the land that belonged to Native Americans and reconfigured the theft into neighborliness and the sharing of bounty. "

-Our Favorite Little Pilgrim

Shut the FUCK UP!!!

--the Native Americans

She resurrects that Emma Thompson/Tom Cruise story EVERY Thanksgiving.

She's in her favourite cashmere black turtle neck for her keynote moment at the Old People's awards.

"So I started off at Juilliard, then after I was cut from the herd I became executive editor at Andy Warhol's Interview and worked in The Factory. Then I was editor at large for Vanity Fair, I met this celeb and that celeb and wrote terrible articles that were resurrected by the editorial skills of Graydon and Tina into something somewhat comprehensible. Speaking of Tina, I then became a meth addict for about 13 years. Wrote two books, one completely self pitying but Oprah loved it and another where I cashed in on the confidences of certain celebrities and described how high I would get (Oprah didn't love that one). I got a job editing a magazine that no one read in San Francisco and I ran it into the ground. Had a few dogs, they died but funnily enough one left me an inheritance in the form of money people donated to his GoFundMe two days before he passed. You've heard of people leaving everything to their dog..well my higher power told me the dog left everything to me. I moved to upstate New York where I scraped by doing nothing but had a nice salary from an old congressman gay pal of mine. Spent my days leering in coffee shops and hanging out with some weirdo in her atelier. Got two cats. Made some cakes coated with their fur. Abandoned them along with all my worldly possessions and....Now I have no home, no job, no teeth and no prospects. My name is Kevin Sesshums and this is my Masterclass."

R368 "Brava!"

R368. I just screamed

Leering at young Italian teenage boys in Covent Garden.

Messhy as ever.

“I ushed to be shumbody!”

I used to be a total CUNT

[quote]Hey, all you Manhattan folks who hated on de Blasio so much when he was mayor - something I could never quite understand even when explained to me, the utter contempt for him even though he was elected twice by wide margins, 73% and 66% - you missing him yet?

What the fuck is he on about? Just because the current Mayor has proven unsuitable, we are supposed to miss DeBlasio?

R374 Thank you. And since she doesn't pay taxes, I'm not sure why she gets a say in city/state/federal government.

For someone who has so many opinions about politics, where is he registered to vote?

ChamPAIN.

His hot takes on De Blasio are as scintillating and well-informed as his hot takes on Israel/Palestine, Trump's legal cases, and the Ukraine war. I'm sure he's the first source most of us turn to when we need penetrating insights on the news of the day.

Against my better judgment, I read the text of his "keynote speech" to the elders.

It was every bit as appalling as I thought it would be. Their heads must have been spinning.

Appalling and repetitive, r379.

How many times has he posted that JL story in the past week or so?

R365 Tom Cruise famously sends out this white chocolate coconut cake every Christmas. I guess the Bav is off the list. Oh I forgot, to get a cake, you have to have an address. I wonder if he EVER got one? Maybe during his VF days? Who knows? I do know this. He’s an elderly queen wif no teef.

The keynote speech had some of the greatest hits. Dead parents, sissy this sissy that, meth addict, HIV+, pilgrimage, Lauren Hutton (a bit obsessive?), Andy Warhol, Interview magazine, Vanity Fair, manifesting life in London, selling all possessions.

Finishing with:

"I only manifest two things now: am and is. Today is Thanksgiving back in America. Tonight - this very moment, this one, this one, this one - I am thankful for your being the is in my am. That is what old age is to me now. It is not about continuing to contemplate the past nor is it about worrying that I don’t have enough time to focus really on the future. It is just that: am and is. It is the youngest I have ever felt because it is the youngest I have ever been. Each moment I am born anew, each breath a new beginning.

Begin anew. "

🥴🥴🥴

“This one” x 3….😂😂😂😂

DRAMATIC MUCH??? 🤮

And he drops two F bombs Nice...

The fact that he thinks this roiling regurgitation of words meant something is just proof of how out to lunch he is.

And I assure you that if you asked Lauren Hutton who Bav is, she would have absolutely no idea.

Instead of that long-winded, clichéd screed, he should have just sung “Floozies.”’

Whenever you post “Floozies”, I roar. I’m not a performer…but if I was, and this resurfaced, I’d pay to have it scrubbo’d from the internet!! It’s SO CRINGE. I’m CERTAINLY not like the finger wagging queen who writes “PLEASE DONT”. Ugh. The telling people what to do….😂😂😂

R386 He was just odd-looking as fuck.

Was?!

Is Jake the new Ned?

" It is not about continuing to contemplate the past" --- isn't this what he does every waking hour??

Also, on Facebook: "Lauren Hutton turns 80 today. I once hung with her a bit back in my younger days. Even sent her an early play of mine called Blue Suede Gospel in case she might be interested in doing a reading of it."

But to the Old Folks: "“Even sent her an early play of mine called Cadillacs in the Sky in case she might be interested in doing a reading of it."

I will say that he has quite an ear for dialogue, as he freely uses it when sharing (conjuring up) what the adoring throngs constantly say to him. Everyone he encounters and pesters for a photo always has something to tell him that is profound and "connects." I am astonished at how he meets such articulate strangers as he skulks around the small town... *cough*

PS: RUN JAKE RUN

[quote]Small-town London. Moon. Blue Light. Venus. My walk home in Kilburn last night after getting off the tube and stopping at my garden gate to say good night and thank you for escorting be [sic] home.

It's STILL Jupiter, not Venus, you twit (Ted Rogers, will you enlighten him, please?).

[quote]I’m CERTAINLY not like the finger wagging queen who writes “PLEASE DONT”. Ugh. The telling people what to do….

Aw, honey...I asked politely, was rebuffed, read the room and got over it. No big deal.

YOU, r387, ARE A TRUE master, capable of out-grossing the Bav.

Don't be a CUNT like that finger-wagging queen...

...who has a different finger for you now.

Since you love it so much, here is Floozies for you again so you can "roar" to your heart's content.

:)

R393 I don't know what you're on about but WW for posting Floozies again. It makes my heart sing.

Yes R393, you must really have NOT gotten over it. So shrill and fem. I’m really embarassed for you. Let’s stay on topic, shall we?

[quote]Small-town London. The moon was impatient today as I walked along the Southbank toward the Tate Modern.

...and now the moon is impatient with him, after walking him home last night. O, fickle moon!

[quote]Let’s stay on topic, shall we?

I am, darlin'. You were the one who brought me up at r387. I dropped the subject, but you brought it up again. Your last 2 posts have been about me, and not about our Bav at all. At least I'm commenting on him. You could try that, too...

...but no worries. I am punching and deleting you after this. Nothing more tiresome than 2 queens going at it. This is about Bav, not about you or me.

I looked at the Instagram account and she is looking like a third wheel in the recent images

R397 I looked at the Instagram account and I think she should buy a hat. Or another English riding helmet.

WTF is with that photo, r398? When I first saw it, I thought it was a kissy face. Now I'm sure it is.

Has he completely lost his mind?

No kidding, r397. Photos with people who don't want to be in a photo, photos of him with utterly random people. Photos he's coerced someone to take of him.

So many photos.

[quote]Swans and a swanning moon on my walk along the Thames tonight.

More moonery!

R399, remember that time in small-town Hudson where the moon turned into a penis?

R399 His British name is Lord Cueball McLiverspot of Moonington on Plop.

R396. That was very Dramatic. And Feminine. And Shrill. Bye Bitch.

He's got a Grandma Jake?

R330 Bav is right. If he keeps waiting like that he won’t last long. At his age he needs nutrition and good amounts of fat and protein in his diet which you can’t receive from Pret A Manger salmon pots and coffee alone.

Stop bickering among yourselves! We have ONE common enemy here....!!

R404 Agreed and he’s stuffing his anemic-looking ass with croissants and jam for breakfast, which OG Bav points out and laments. But as we’ve learned, he doesn’t have full kitchen privileges so he can’t make overnight oatmeal or boil an egg. He can just hunker down in his hutch and pray to the Egyptian cat gods that he gets a whiff of Pan’s poop from down the hall.

FYI, I just WWed my own post R406 because I think it’s THAT GOOD.

R406 it was rather hysterical

Thank you R408 Let’s stroll down the lane hand-in-hand and get an ice cream cone then laugh our heads off over Sesshie like god intended. 🤝🍦

He got a freebie ticket with a gift bag to the National Theatre... and rewarded the theatre by writing not a word about the show, but a self-aggrandizing tale in which he graciously gives away the stuffed mouse and poster he got two deserving urchins. The children doubtless felt "seen".

It is a classic Sess-post as it includes a totally unnecessary mention of him going to the toilet as well as four uses of the word "narrative."

("...he got to two," I mean)

R410 no good deed goes unpublished

Ha ha, R410.

Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at my own post, I meant to say, "Ha ha, R412". That is a very true quip with our grim pillager.

When will he acknowledge that his true narrative is having a messhy pusshy?

He has added "conjure" to his List of Favorite Repeating Words. Too bad he never conjured any INCOME!

And every time he writes "I love this little town" it makes my eyebrow twitch.

I wonder if he snoozes through these shows he attends.....

when there is no video of the curtain call......I can almost imagine the usher having to wake him up and ask him to leave.

[quote]Small-town London. Blonde stranger taking in El Anatsui’s Act I and Act II of Behind the Red Moon installation and a Black stranger taking in the “behind” of Act III

....accompanied by a picture of a stranger's behind.

[quote]I wonder if he snoozes through these shows he attends.....when there is no video of the curtain call......I can almost imagine the usher having to wake him up and ask him to leave.

I can't conjure that, r417. He isn't really there to see, it's to be seen - and to be seen asleep wouldn't do.

You're right, r416 - "conjure" has been in his repertoire for awhile.

In Things That Never Happened News:

[quote]I met this lovely lady after the Advantage of Age Awards the other night. “I can’t believe you name-dropped Richard Wright in your speech,” she told me. “You are the only person I have ever met who has done that.

In Things That DEFINITELY Never Happened News:

[quote]When I was a teenager” she said, “I made a book report in front of my class on his Native Son and it got me kicked out. I had chills when you mentioned him and the way you did it.” I smiled. “Of course you made a report on him and that book I talked about ,” I said. “Everything connects.”

...and boy, is he sucking up to his landlady by pushing this group:

[quote].. Advantages of Age group - Baby Boomers & Beyond... Advantages of Age

It must gall him...as all of his "tough old coot"-ness cosplays must gall him...but it's one of the few venues of grift that he has left to him, so use it he must.

"In Things That Never Happened" News could be a regular feature. He "conjures" up bonkers connective scenarios every damn day.

Small Town Myopia. I was walking wittily windily Winchester way when Winifred Whackaloon (pictured) whammed me on the wazoo and said "that speech you gave last night - you quoted Lou Reed!" I smiled and told her that I had actually quoted Rex Reed. She looked stunned and then said "Yes, Rex Reed! That's the one I meant!" I told her that I once attended a party with Rex in his fabulous apartment in the Dakota with one and a half other guests (we took turns standing in the hallway, that place was a fucking shoebox). She said that she had once been arrested for attempting to burn down the Royal snowman. Some men in white coats were creeping up behind her so I bid her a fond adieu and ducked into a coal cellar just in case. I don't really think Kathleen Turner is out to get me, but why tempt fate?

Question for DL: is Brandad Ickson the female Bav?

Assuming Brendad lost her condo, they're both essentially homeless, so in that sense, "Yes."

In "Things That Probably*Did* Happen" news:

[quote]Two of the many people who came up to tell me how much my keynote speech had meant to them in at the Advantage of Age Awards last week at Hoxton Hall. I think I 'm getting their names correct. That's gorgeous Ruth with the garland in her hair. She teared up telling me or maybe she just had something in her lovely eyes. And I think the woman with the fur nest in which the bird is perched is named Susie or Suzy. We talked about how we have similar details in our narratives and I was deeply moved by how she felt connected to what I had talked about. The Dionysian and the Dignified is how I thought of these two women who were two sides of what a real British dame means to me. I adored them. Advantages of Age group - Baby Boomers & Beyond Advantages of Age

How the "mighty" Bav has fallen, reduced to keeping company with a bunch of sweet, horny old bats, and flogging his landlady's blog for oldsters on his FB page.

I bless those little old ladies' hearts in the truest, original southern sense, not in the mean way Bav always uses it.

Let your freak flags fly, ladies!

Cherchez la femme!

Uncle gets as many people coming up to him with teary testimonials as Donald Trump! PS, yet another humblebrag about his "framing fame" via Vanity Fair covers, bring up Dolly and Cher, who were in the news over the weekend.

R425 But he never looks back … it’s always onward 🙄

In more "Things That Probably*Did* Happen" news, because it exposes him as a paranoid, malevolent, horrible person:

[quote]this lovely gentleman, Viv, came up to speak to me to tell me what it had meant to him. [snip] And then he told me that it reminded him of a book and an author that were the last two comparisons to which and to whom I was expecting him to mention in regards to me because the writer has proven to be, shall we say, deeply problematic in my life. I'll leave it at that because I have never commented on the writer publicly and will not start now.

Then why mention it, Bav?

[quote]I actually felt my knees buckling a bit when he mentioned the person. At first I thought he was a plant and was gaslighting me. Maybe he was. LOL. But I choose to believe he was sincere. Talk about everything connecting tough [sic]. When I told my landlord and friend Suzanne about it - she knows about the problematic narrative with this writer - she too felt her knees buckling and said that was one of the strangest heightened coincidences that I'd told her about. "That is deeply weird," she said, shaking her head in astonished amazement after gasping and clutching at her chest.

Ever'one's knees are buckling, y'all, complete with head-shaking and chest-clutching. Oh, and "deeply" has joined "conjure" and its cognates, for those keeping score.

[quote] Then we took this selfie and I showed him the odd blue spots of Light christening our heads. "What is that?" he asked. "Lucifer," I said. And then it was his turn to feel his knees buckle and wonder if I were gaslighting him.

What an absolute piece of shit thing to do to some poor self-admitted "church-going" guy, invoking Lucifer. All because Bav got paranoid that he was a "plant" - if he chose to believe Viv was sincere, as he claimed to, why gaslight him at all?

Petty and shitty: a new low, even for him.

Does anyone think for ONE SECOND that the landlady "gasped" and "clutched her chest?"

And who's the writer? Someone on here knows!! Spill!

What an absolute psycho.

Certainly not David Sedaris....?

R429 could it be James Grissom?

Also - he says he has a cover story coming up and to stay tuned. Cover story for whom? Appalachia Monthly?

Deluded

Him going into the lobby of the St Martins Hotel to take pictures for that other insufferable David Roman is so strange.

James Grissom is a good guess. They've crossed paths before, when Grissom moderated some panel he was on back in 2016 at the Woodstock Writers Festival. So they have Hudson in common....?

Maybe they got into a slapfest over ogling baristas!

[quote]I actually felt my knees buckling a bit when he mentioned the person. [bold]At first I thought he was a plant and was gaslighting me.[/bold] Maybe he was. LOL. But I choose to believe he was sincere. [See R427]

Crazier than a shithouse rat.

R433 I think he and Grissom had a falling out.

I've had a very strong hunch that James Grissom posts on these threads, so maybe he can enlighten us.

Mr. Grissom?

The landlady is having a dinner party and Cinderella (as he likes to refer to himself) isn’t invited. Appears she may need a break as well ..

I thought that little passive aggressive bit (Bav clearly pissed at not being invited after all he has done to promote batshit landlady) was VERY telling.

Perhaps we will see him learn the line between landlady and lodger.

In "Things That Definitely Happened" News:

[quote]My landlord and friend Suzanne is having a dinner party tonight and I didn’t want to be in the way or be shut up in my room hearing the muffled merriment upstairs.

That little post is likely to bite him in the ass, r437 and r438. He's biting the hand that feeds him, all to cadge a little sympathy from his sycophants. Not smart, little sissy.

One said that "I would feel uncomfortable not inviting someone staying in my home."

Bav's a barely-paying tenant, not a guest.

Jesus, he's such a creeper. If you don't want to hear the "muffled merriment," put in your goddam earbuds.

It's honestly telling how often he recounts hearing things through the walls -- his female neighbor's farts, for fuck's sake! -- and "overhearing" conversations, etc.

I've said it before: The word salad; the "connections" between completely random things; the listening through the walls; the [italic]idées fixes[/italic] about "light" and "manifestations" and such; and now, the suspicion that some random stranger is a "plant" who is "gaslighting" him... it all points to a burgeoning schizoid break with reality.

Our Bav is not well.

I would LOVE to hear the details about the deeply problematic narrative of the mysterious writer.

R440, so what did he do? Prance along to Pret for a spinach plop?

Miss Grissom is no fan of Bav and actually proposed a TV series based on Bav and his cat hair pah making. I messaged him about it and this is what I got back. Grissom clearly loathes him.

Thanks, r443. I was looking for that. I remember the discussion, but I think I only saw it here.

Aunt Esther: (entering garret) Bav have you seen my copy of "Follies of God" somewhere in this dump?

Bav Sanford: (falls to knees, clutching chest) Oh no! Lizbeth I'm coming' to ya! This here might be the big one!!

(scene)

Grissom has 28 followers on goodreads while our Bav only has 21! Clearly this is the root of their squabble.

Grissom v. Sessums: Battle of the Network Pieces Of Shit!

We have our answer. We have our answer.

Now if we only had those CLIPS!!!

Must be Grissom. They are similar in that one writes nonsense about The Light and My Narrative and how Everything Connects, and the other writes nonsense and attributes it to people he never met.

Both try to write things that aspire to be printed up and framed and hung on a middle-aged lady's wall.

Manifester and Grissom also have a need to "connect" with those far more famous than themselves...

Isn't Grissom just as big a piece of shit? the one who was climbing up Tennessee William's posthumous tailpipe and making up bullshit quotes from Helen Hayes and Lauren Bacall and Judy Garland or whoever?

He's certainly as nutty as Manifester but is he a grifting mooch like our beloved "Uncle?"

Whatever one thinks of James Grissom, he can write coherently.

By contrast, study the second sentence below from the Manifester. I dare anyone to make sense of it.

"My iPhone just reminded me that I took this photo of Mark Rylance and me a year ago today. Lots has happened since this moment - or has happened at the same time once I arrived to complete all the other things that have been happening at the same time at this bit of the one lone moment of my lived life during this hum of the human part of my existence. Mark understands such a hum at the heart of it all."

R453 It's the kind of word salad you hear from street schizophrenics.

R453, he's just a few violent scenes and a set a tits away from a Dario Argento film script.

He’s “manifesting” connections with random theatergoers sitting near him again. This couple seems legitimately accomplished so he’s already scheming ways to insert himself into their lives.

Grisshy? Sesshie. Sesshie? Grisshy.

Grisshlie!

They just need to fuck and get over it. Surely Tennessee Williams had a double-ended dildo they could share.

R456 He’s confusing British faux-humility about their authentic literary credentials (they love showing off to Americans) and the faux-bonhomie (“do let’s keep in touch!”) of social lubrication with sincerity.

R460, the man is American, although I suppose his wife is British.

"There was an instant rapport and we laughed and talked about theatre and my pilgrim's life and broken shoulder. "

No surprise there then.

I do wonder how he starts these conversations... "Excuse me is this seat taken?" "No, it's free." "Oh, thank you, I broke my shoulder and am on a pilgrimage because my parents died."

Then he quickly classifies them as herd people ("A nice lady, I didn't catch her name") or cut-from-the-herd people in which case he gives their full resume, tries to arrange a future meet-up and tells them how he exists just outside the frame of fame.

[quote]I remembered I had not looked up to converse with the moon on my walk home from the tube station, or at least to search for it in the firmament that ain’t so firm. And it was the full Beaver moon balancing itself between the horns of Taurus.

Wonder where he picked up the balanced "between the horns of Taurus" tidbit? Sounds like something he picked up from the Farmers Almanac, or worse yet, some new-age website. A few days ago he thought Jupiter was Venus - for the second time in as many weeks. Now he knows about the horns of Taurus?

[quote]at that exact second the clouds swept aside and we said our hellos and good nights in these few seconds it emerged then disappeared. I actually gasped when it occurred at the exact moment I looked up. I even felt tears in my eyes. Then I went inside and started to post on Instagram

More gasping and tears - no clutching of the chest this time, nor yet knee-buckling. His brief dalliance with the moon was so touching and spiritual that he....rushed inside to post on Instagram.

He wants so badly to be a deep thinker, but they don't come shallower than our Sessh.

On that note....but no. Don't even get me started on Bav slavering over Ned as a vaping Romeo. Someone else can field that one.

R462 spot in! And that deep dive he did publishing the couple’s resumes on his FB comments in his own post. Fucking creepy. He did all that before the curtain even rose I bet.

You know he [italic]will[/italic] attempt to keep in touch with the successful couple, who have everything the Bav likes in his "friendships" -- money, connections, and two residences, which means one is vacant at any given time and can accommodate a grim pill grim.

Imagine the eye rolls and "let the call go to voicemail, dear"s the unlucky couple will be exchanging in the near future, when they realize that their life story was researched by the Bav and splashed across his Face book page.

Ned the vaping Romeo 🤣🤣🤣 he’s a FLOOZIE in the making!

Must be ready for his ferret-faced name in lights he’s been anointed by Bav, who knows these things because it’s “his day job”. Er… your day job is perving on baristas and ekeing out Pret pots while grifting free tickets.

[quote]I have to admit when I looked at the CNN story about the holiday decorations at the White House chosen by Jill Biden, my eye did linger on the photographer on the left in this photo and thought: yep, decorative. Did Jill choose him too?

Now he's perving on a random photographer who is just trying to do his job.

He has it and IT and "it"!

Video recording the finale of a show (as he just did with Crazy For You) is disrespectful and trashy. It also means he's not applauding as he should be.

R468, Uncle Manifester and Cousin Has-IT.

"Everybody, this is Ted and Annette Fleming! Ted has a small carpet cleaning business in receivership; Annette's drawing a salary from a deferred bonus from two years ago. They got 15 thousand left on the house at 8 percent, so they're OK! So does anybody wanna play Parcheesi?"

If he says “You can’t make this shit up” one more fucking time in a post, I’m going to fly to London and stalk him at Pret, throwing a water balloon full of piss and cum at him and telling him it came from James Grissom.

R472. HYSTERICAL!! These are the types of posts the public craves!!

He is nauseating.

NAUSEATING!!!!!!!!

R64, the thought of sharing personal or even professional information of a close friend - let alone a complete stranger - on social media is so alien to me I wonder if he's actually profoundly autistic.

"Meet so and so! I bumped into them while we were shopping for soup greens! Here's their LinkedIn page, mailing address and OnlyFans!"

EXITING THE THEATER:

Mrs. Temple: You didn't give that crazy poofter our phone number, did you? Professor Temple: Certainly not! I couldn't believe how he went on and on about his broken shoulder! Cripes! Mrs. Temple: And what was all that piffle about him being a pilgrim? Professor Temple: He appears to be down on his luck, all right... Mrs. Temple: And he smelled something terrible! (shudders) Professor Temple: Don't worry, love - if he tries to contact us, I'll block him - TAXI!

Wasn’t the broken shoulder thing almost, like, eight months ago at this point?

If I fell down the subway stairs I certainly wouldn't be telling people about it nearly one year later.

Well the parents croaked 5 decades ago R477 - so in the Bav-overse his shoulder is actually STILL broken.

[quote]If he says “You can’t make this shit up” one more fucking time....

I noticed he dropped off the rest of it - he used to say "You can't make this shit up - well, you can, but I don't".

“Bav-orverse”😂😂😂😂😂😂

Just when you think he can't be ANY CREEPIER, he out creeps himself!! This time, he waylays poor Fergus, the oboe player from the Royal Opera House orchestra, ON THE STREET, and proceeds to tell him how much he loves his playing, has noticed him before, noticed he'd gotten a haircut (!!!) and then moves in for the mandatory selfie. And he looks particularly Festerish with that scarf wound around his neck, along with those hideous glasses!!

Poor Fergus looks decidedly uncomfortable, and I hope he RAN FOR HIS LIFE!!!

Aunt Fester looks like she’s later going to strangle Fergus with her scarf!

I can smell the old coot through that picture, and it ain't pretty. Why can't he just leave people the fuck alone? The neediness and desperation is off the charts with this freak.

[quote]The sound of an oboe is singular - I love its sensual winding woodwind smoothness finding its pathway in the music

Ick.

[quote ]I have looked down into the pit and watched him play when I have noticed it. I even noticed tonight that he’d gotten a haircut. Most of all, I liked having the chance to tell him how talented he is as are his fellow orchestra members. They enrich my life here in London. I am grateful for them. Everything connects …

Yes, everything connects. I mean, what are the odds of running into the oboe player outside the venue after a performance? Especially after you've obviously been stalking him. This is bizarre behavior.

Fergus is probably STILL THROWING UP!

Staring into the pit in the darkness so hard and long that you notice he got a haircut.

I know he gets crushes on men young enough to be his grandsons. What's pitiful is that he thinks he has a chance with any of them. Remember he told Ned's mother he wouldn't make a pass at him, but he'd likely be susceptible if Ned made a pass at him?

Does he remember what it's like to be young? At 25, I would not have even looked at this repellent creep unless he was a billionaire or something. And even then, I'd hesitate.

Part of the conquest (since it's always going to be unrequited lust) is cornering these poor guys and preying on their good natures and pity for him as he overpraises them and fawns on them obsequiously, then gets the souvenir selfie. It's his only way of forging a (very fleeting) connection. Everything connects--for the length of time it takes to force a selfie on someone.

Pathetic.

Everything cunt-necks (but not to the shoulder).

R488. Exactly. That’s his game, and part of his gross out fetish. FORCING young men into an interaction, and MAKING THEM DEAL WITH IT!! I knew a smelly old GRANNY who did the same. It was stomach churning.

Bav probably thought he could coerce poor Fergus into blowing his Oboe back in the Air BnB

Bav certainly knows she's a crusty old alligator and generates no sexual interest. That's the creature she resembles most--a reptile.

R488 "Preying on their good natures." You hit the nail on the head. He does this with everyone he encounters. He's forward, boorish, goes too far, but he does this to people who are very polite, good-natured, or simply have good manners. He knows they'll politely and quietly tolerate him.

DL'ers, a challenge.

If you woke up in his shoes, what would you do?

Does he have any way to throw himself a life-line?

Or are we looking at someone who is genuinely doomed?

For the record, I don't think anyone is genuinely doomed. But damned if I know how I'd get out of this situation.

[quote]Does he have any way to throw himself a life-line?

Lifeline of what? Of a path to finance solvency? Of becoming a halfway decent person? Of delighting in being a lecherous old geezer and exerting maximum discomfort and disgust and sexual innuendo upon any within spitting distance? Of not being a burden to anyone who makes the mistake of trying to help him in some way? Of being an insufferable bore about his inflated past and his specialness? Of stomping over people to use them as a platform to appear a few inches higher in the "herd"? Of learning any practical lesson from his decades long "fall from grace"?

No. He can't/won't do it. The Camino de Santiago is a platform for telling us he once worked for Andy Warhol. His sightings of "the Light" are starbursts from the mega incrustations of permacum and Bleu cheese plop and geezer grease on his Mr. Magoo specs and his iPhone™. His "paying it forward" attempts only to pay it forward to himself. His every act of kindness or generosity is a photo-op planned to make him him look, not to benefit anyone else.

His only claim to fame is having been fired two decades ago by a magazine whose time has long passed. At his peak, he was a mean little turd of a man completely oblivious to anything but his own vapid thoughts and incapable of writing an article about anyone but himself, the ostensible subjects just platforms for him to stand upon to gain a few inches of height in the herd. He has no friends, only people at so safe a distance that they can buy him a pity lunch once a year, or throw some $ to a restaurant tab - the price of being removed from him for until next time. It seems his family have a deeper sense of obligation or maybe a deeper fear of embarrassment, but clearly they are wary and weary of their brother.

His situation isn't on a trajectory of improvement and never will be.

Really, the financial strains are the least of his worries.

Most people don't change until they have to. And some people, like Uncle, still won't. Hence their hitting rock bottom. Despite his proclamations as a humble pilgrim, he wants the life he once had...

r494, if I woke up in his shoes, I hope I'd realize that my sense of "connects" was as permanent or meaningful as a cocktail party conversation and that I was truly alone. And I'd get my ass to wherever my brother or sister lived. They may not want me, but they've proved that they'll have me anyway.

He is someone who likes the noise and the vibrancy of the city, cafes and live performance. He doesn’t have that large of a window to do so whilst still physically able in a place like London. And for the performing arts, on this planet, in English, there is only London and New York and London has New York beat because the culture for the nation is concentrated there. And he’s been run out of New York.

If I were him, at his age and with his health, I would soak it up while I can.

He is lucky to have a brother who tolerates him. Retiring to the country, or worse, the suburbs is his future.

The fucking post where he named everyone from Mississippi who made a name for themselves.

Dickhead.

He’s googling himself. Likely editing wiki pages to include himself.

Insightful and surgically precise R495.

These threads are so much more interesting and entertaining than the Magoo posts that they comment upon. I found the Bav through DL shortly before The Paris Fall, and his IG was usually good for some amusing rubbernecking / but since he left NYC it’s just so much of the same crap over and over - like Fred Flintstone endlessly running past the same Stone Age window and potted house plant.

At first I wondered if he was a bored by his trope repetitions as I was, but people here are right - he’s a self-focused narcissist who in his prime only had a second or third rate mind - and that mind is slipping in a big way. I keep up with the DL threads but rarely check his actual IG. There is no need.

[quote] He’s googling himself. Likely editing wiki pages to include himself.

I suspect this tracks back to meeting that very accomplished couple the other night at the theater. He's trying to create an "impressive" online presence in the event they google him. They should immediately figure out that he's all sound and fury... signifying nothing. Mississippian Faulkner and English Shakespeare. Everything connects in a bat-shit crazy game of connect the dots. Or connect the liver spots when looking at that bald pate of his.

Aunt Fester is getting lost again…

Oh lord, he's at a "queer bar."

Whatever does he mean by being a "Jew queen" - that he has a Jewish man fetish? If so, haven't my people suffered enough?

He’s perving on shop people again. And posting their picture.

He finds these men when they're cornered so he can force his conversation on them. They're not willing participants, they're hostages.

I'm surprised he doesn't drool all over the guy's counter, with his tongue hanging out like a wolf in a Tex Avery cartoon!!!

R505 - is he referencing Barry Diller again?

R422 I don't see Brendad Ickson snuggling up to random pedestrians and theater-goers to involve them in her fantasies of glamour.

And let's face it, she actually had a certain amount of talent and was beautiful.

R509 Barry who fucked him in the toilet at Indochine (allegedly)?

510 and she has teeth albeit loose fitting veneers

He definitely knows how to turn promoting something into self-promotion.

[quote]The moon welcoming back to my garden gate last night after the fuck-the-clouds star that is always there - always here - walked me once more home.

It's not a star. It's not Venus. Right now, he's looking at Jupiter and it is not always there. He's really gone round the bend

Ewww, his picture at a “QUEER BAR” is so creepy. And it looks like he is nursing a big glass of lemonade.

I hate the erasure of the word “gay.” There is an entire discussion about using queer versus gay in the new movie “All of Us Strangers.” He clearly thinks he is young, hip, and woke by constantly calling everything queer.

My teenage nieces who are attached to their phones don't take as many selfies as this guy does.

Just be glad he doesn't call it a "sissy bar", R515. If you've not yet watched him on Albanian television setting gay rights back 20 years in that country you must google it. He doesn't shut up about being a "sissy boy" (though he also manages to use the N-word too).

R517 while donning a weird leather cap and looking like an Albanian cab driver

He has posted ten pictures of himself in the last 10 hours. I actually scrolled through and just counted them.

And she reveals today that she'll be going to Tangiers for two full months, September and October, because she can save so much money on rent!! Some old geezer (one of his "mates") she selfied with is going to Morocco, so of course that was a sign he should book another month!

What kind of theater, ballet and art do they have there??

R520 not a lot of ballet and theatre but LOTS of hot young trade for a few dirhams a night

That cat knows what a grifter he is. Finn and Matty have sent some telepathic vibes its way. Kitty is probably repulsed by the cheese breath too.

That cat looks like it would kill him while he slept if given the opportunity.

Tangiers can be Uncle Manifester's Sebastian moment of...

The Light

Sebastians Venable and Flyte

The grim pill's path

To final corporeal corruption and cannibals!

On ward!

R520 "And she reveals today that she'll be going to Tangiers for two full months, September and October"

Planning nine and ten months in advance? What if the light leads the grim pill down a different path?

Uncle Manifester is nothing if not an optimist...

[QUOTE] What if the light leads the grim pill down a different path?

What is The Light leads her down another flight of stairs?

**if

...follow the bright light, Fester...

It would seem our grim pillager usually spends the whole of October in small town batshit landlady’s place yet next year Tangier beckons…

I am honestly not trying to be morbid, but I got ten bucks sez he absolutely won't be staying in Tangiers next September.

"Samuel West here and told him I was going to fanboy him and take a selfie. He was kind to oblige. He wasn't with his kids at that point or I wouldn't have bothered him. I respect the zone of parenthood with actors - i.e. David Tennant was there too and with his children so I left him alone although I did want to ask him for a ticket to Macbeth at the Donmar."

Here we see him in action -- how he forces people into selfies and then how he shamelessly begs for tickets, though in this case he highlights how he magnanimously held back as Tennant had his kids with him.

Oh, also... learn how to use "i.e." correctly. That's an "e.g."

Everything connects... except my synapses!

I do think there is some neurological/psychiatric thing happening here. The Light shit makes him sound like a schizophrenic off their meds.

Surely there are tickets to Macbeth at the Donmar... for sale? How many quids would that? Or does he measure them in plops these days?

Like many of you, I lost several dear friends to AIDS during the 80s, and it makes me SICK to hear him proselytize about World AIDS Day and why he didn't "do more" at the time, and his long winded rationalization, blaming his poz status on his drug addiction.

He is SICKENING.

I don't understand where the money - not that there's much, whether bucks or quids or Euros or dirhams - is coming from, given that the IRS can garnish your Social Security payments for unpaid Federal tax obligations. They have to leave you something with which to pillage grimly onward, but it ain't much: less than $1200/month. So about $15,000 a year.

He has to have another grift providing an income. How much can the shitstack bring in?

[quote] She has been a mooch and a grifter all her life. It's ALL she knows.

How scandalous! I can't even imagine.

R537, maybe Doctor Brother bit the bullet and paid off the IRS debt for Miss "Luxurious Blowjob"?

"On World AIDS Day, I remembered I had done this cover story for this magazine which chose me back in 2016 as the #1 person living (publicly) with HIV out of 75 people profiled online leading up to this cover."

I'm sorry... what?

He was Mr. HIV 2016. He had the sash and everything.

He takes his stank ASS into the Savoy Hotel lobby and sits there for a half hour to "read" or "people watch" - and then waylays some poor passerby to take his selfie!

R539 I sincerely doubt it. He wouldn't even pay for him to go to rehab the second time and Fester bitched about it in his second book. I think both his siblings are so sick of his shit. As I've said before he is the Janice Soprano of Forest Mississippi.

He posted a picture of the lineup on tonights Graham Norton show (Cher, Julia Roberts, Tom Hanks and Timothée Chalamet). "I did Vanity Fair cover stories on the three eldest". I felt like saying yeah and in the one about Julia Roberts you said she was encouraging girls to be whores by being in Pretty Woman and Cher hates your fucking guts for the cover story you did on her!

As a longtime Bavologist, I can’t help but note that he gets extra batshit around they holidays.

Because of course The Fester would find a way to make a promo still for Graham Norton's show about him. He can't remember what time curtain is for any given show, but he conveniently "realizes" that he framed fame in VF cover stories about three people in the photo.

R545 I saw that promo and immediately thought of Norton turning into Fred Kruger.

When I go to London I stay at St. Martin's Lane. It annoys me no end that this homeless clown barges into these places he would never pay to stay at, and accosts paying guests and grosses them out with his signature stank whilst demanding they take his picture. Same with the Savoy. He pays like two quid a night to stay with Dollar Store Doctor Ruth Elderly Vag Enthusiast, and has the fucking gall to drag his musty, filthy ass into five-star hotels. The hotel security should kick his moth-eaten ass out.

I see nothing wrong with visiting hotels one is not staying in. I'm a lifelong New Yorker and the bars at the Waldorf, the Pierre and the Carlyle are marvelous places to meet people - or simply have a cocktail and observe the crowds. When I visited London I made a point of visiting the bars at the Ritz and similar historic places (admittedly in the company of friends).

That said, I would never think of asking a stranger to take my picture. That does seem bizarre.

R548 Agreed. But he is not visiting bars and spending money. He is not buying a cocktail or even a Diet Coke. He is just wandering into the lobby and making a nuisance of himself. Therein lies the difference.

R549, you are, of course, correct...

I can't imagine simply sitting in a hotel lobby.

He is making the Savoy lobby irredeemably messhy.

They need to Febreeze any olace he sits.

I've solved the mystery of why he doesn't go to more "queer spaces" as he calls them, when he complains about being so lonely. I realised looking at his visit to the Glory that it is all about, yes, herd mentality. In a cultural venue he can believe himself cut from those around him -- maybe he knows a cast member, or interviewed the star, or has some other leg-up. He considers himself part of the elite and in any conversation with anyone can drop enough names to establish his superior status. Ditto when he sits in the lobby of the Savoy or at Dior in Paris for hours on end, he can believe himself a well-connected person at home in that world. But in any London gay bar he doesn't stand out one bit. He's thrust back into the herd that he so long ago left. And he gets no attention and no one cares who he met 25 years ago. It must horrify him.

The post about the young man who's photo he took numerous times and then told him he reminded him of himself as he looked like Nureyev. What an old lech. Creepy as fuck.

Why does he keep “gasping” so much? Not that I believe he actually is.

The most recent tome/post about that young man and Nureyev and objectification and azure light and then his comment about copulating with Nureyev's boyfriend on tapestries outside the frame of fame... I too gasped. But in complete and utter horror. It has to be read to be believed.

That “Nureyev bust post” is proof positive that this cunt is losing it. She’s come undone, folks. This has to be the most pathetic post yet. Sad, sorry, yet downright disturbing. It’s really telling that after all this “bav-ery”, he doesn’t have one friend to hang out with. It’s all these randos! Even his landlady with the golden prune vagina has a dinner party and didn’t invite him. But then again, why associate with a mere lodger? He should have used that snub as the ideal time to sneak into Pan’s room and offer a luxurious blowjob coupled with toothless analingus. THAT’LL SHOW HER!!!

“ i once had sex with Rudy's boyfriend in Rudy's Paris apartment and the place was covered in rugs and tapestries like this - i fucked atop a few of them on Nureyev’s bed .. lord, the life i've lived does amaze me ... but yet again - just outside the frame of fame -“

I would be creeped out at this comment if I were the kid pictured in the post.

Well, I spoke to soon…it looks like the bav MAY HAVE a new friend!! A fellow ballet nut named Yumi… (SO perfect for the narcissist Bav,…”YOU,ME”!!)

I HOPE SHE LIKES SPINACH PLOPS, and long walks in the rain….

Loitering in fancy hotel lobbies... outside the frame of fame indeed!

This “outside the frame of fame” bullshit needs to end. The weird penchant for repeating rhyming phrases is known as “clanging” or “clang association”. Schizophrenics do it. Need an example you can easily examine? Watch “Sybil”…her mother did it frequently, when she wasn’t administering evil enemas!!!!

R536. It’s part of his act. The backhanded “hiv shaming” is an oft-played card in his deck of “go-to” atrocities. He puts himself above others, because *he* became positive during his active drug use…. anal sex? dirty needles? Who knows? The bottom line is, IT DOESN'T MATTER, but he continually shades people in the oiliest, greasiest, most mean-spirited way possible. He “coulda done more”? YOU BET. BUT HE WAS FAR TOO BUSY BEING A MONOLITHIC CUNT. Many of us know this as FACT.

Was a total CUNT during the AIDS epidemic. Everyone in NYC knows that as a fact.

What happened to the three watches, once so lovlngly displayed, along with the James Baldwin book and other assorted items.... Hocked?

and the John Lahr Tennesse Williams bio? maybe he can get around to finishing it in Tangiers?

For someone who has fucking nothing to do most days he sure does take a long time to read shit.

Manifester acting like his VF puff pieces where he injected himself were somehow instrumental in cementing the stars' careers is good for a laugh...

I love that Cher hates his fucking guts.

'Small-town London. I was standing in the queue waiting for our coffees and teas at the cafe at the Royal Opera House today before the afternoon performance of the Royal Ballet's The Dante Project when this young man turned around and I might have actually - eerily - gasped. At first I thought I was seeing my much younger self when I had long hair but then I realized I was seeing the person to whom I was often compared when I looked more like this: Nureyev. "

Eerily gasped, huh? Pass me the bucket.

Honey, nobody ever compared you to Nureyev, but maybe if you type that out enough some of your FB fraus will (pretend to) believe you. At best, you looked like a goofy, special-ed variation of a Monkees reject. (With apologies to the actual Monkees.)

Of all of his pitiful, delusional ramblings, his desperate repeat references to his "resemblance" to Nureyev is one of the most laughable. In your dreams, Magoo. Rudy is rolling around in that glittering sarcophagus of his -- laughing.

I just checked and neither Bav nor the young man look anything like Nureyev.

Or Miss Piggy, for that matter.

Rudy was a beauty. Sesshie’s just a doody.

R571. I am sobbing! She looks like Brian Stelter in an Edith Bunker wig.

Small town trail of dried up cat-hack. I was sitting in the lobby of the Ritz because I am a cracker when I saw a gorgeous young man who reminded me of another gorgeous young man, me, but also of yet another gorgeous young man, to whom I have oft been compared, the dancer Nureyev. Less looks than body odor, although I did fuck his boyfriend on his bed once and then sneaked into the bathroom and stuffed both their toothbrushes up my asshole. So close to fame and yet outside the frame. FRAME! I'm gonna grift forever! Anyway I went up to the gorgeous young man and said "You resemble me and I resemble a dancer you have never heard of." "Cheers mate," he said, which is something we Londoners say when confronted with the inevitably ineffable. Then he punched me in my bald rubbery head.

R573 My laughter awoke my bedmate.

Are these people aware that they'll be splattered all over his social-media pages? Imagine being approached by this random old billiard ball of a meth-mouthed man gasping about how much you resemble him.

Through a deep dive, I was led to the Manifester's piece on Ty Ross (Goldwater), the first cover story for POZ. In what is meant to be a profile, almost all of it ends up being about the author. It's not that he just inserts himself in his story - he IS the story. The last third is a tale from his childhood, and Ty only reappears toward the end when we're informed they ended up having sex. (Great journalistic standards). All of the usual stories are here: Warhol, Interview Magazine, misuse of 'pentimento,' dead parents, Sunset Boulevard... He is also remarkably coarse and insensitive when Ty asks him what the title of the story will be. What is clear is that our hero has been writing the same story, over and over again, for over 30 years.

The Ty Ross piece has so many of the flourishes we've come expect from our Grim Pillager. Not least:

"Look at it as politically correct beefcake,” I continue, stepping into the dressing room’s bathroom to take a piss."

He refers to toilets ALL. THE TIME. It's part of the well-documented gross-out fetish, but when you read his first book you realise why. His earliest sexual awareness was in fetid locker rooms with the teams his dad coached, and then he was sexually assaulted as a boy in a cinema bathroom. But how does he not see it and stop it??

Also, the distinctive pomposity: "...I sing the lines again, this time louder and, if I do say so myself, more luminously."

R577 You nailed it with that pomposity thing. He writes about himself as (he wishes that) an intrigued, fascinated observer would.

His latter day Liz Taylor POZ interview, with her confiding in funny Uncle about James Dean's gayness is more than a bit suspect. Manifester is a fabulist who isn't the least bit fabulous!

The undercurrent of nastiness is remarkable R576. There is a moment where I feel he tries to draw back somewhat respectfully with the former model ravaged by AIDS, but for the most part it's him talking about himself or hitting Ty with "zingers". And they had sex at the end? Isn't that an immediate journalism FAIL? And how did this smirking gnome have half the sex he evidently did?

Ugh, there's even an "Andy" reference (long a personal red flag for me that the one making it is a parasite).

His only feeble talent is to tout himself. At every little opportunity. He can't write. He can't spot talent. He has neither knowledge nor insight by which to critique anything or anyone. His flashes of blue light, his coinkydinky gasp-worthy connex-ions, and his relentless alliteration...that's the scope of his his peak talents are his only peak form talents. His secondary talents are to cause discomfort and disgust (ask the barristas and shop clerks of London or Hudson or any small town he has dirtied.)

He's not an outside the frame framer of fame, he's a grotesquely ugly and nasty man inside and outside. Anything he steals who from others in an attempt to throw a bit of Light onto himself. It doesn't seem that he's ever had a talent beyond that, and at age 67 his delusions, unsmoothed by the passage of time, are only mounting higher.

I read the article and still have no idea why we need to know about Ty Ross. Nothing against him, he actually seemed a lovely man (he is evidently still alive and working as an interior designer). But other than "related to Barry Goldwater", why the story in the first place? Of course that suit Bav, who gets to make the focus of the tale himself, once again.

The biographical episode at the end was cringe-inducing. And I don't believe a word.

I would be very sad to be Ty Ross and to have this written about me, forever on the internet:

“But I don’t have AIDS… not yet,” he quietly tells me and lies down on my bed. I kneel beside him and, as my mother did to me so long ago, reach out and touch a face that needs comforting. “My Little Miss Goldwater,” I can hear her voice; I lie down on the bed beside him. Slowly, hesitantly, I begin to kiss his pout away. We hold one another tightly before we begin to remove each other’s clothes. Naked, our bodies find the ways they must fit. I kiss his neck, his chest, that scar that surrounds our heart."

He's also horribly smug about his negative status (at this time), and there's a quality of pitying and moral superiority in his writing about Ty and the model with AIDS. Of course, Manifester would rewrite history after he seroconverted to become an advocate he never was.

Dear God, R583! I just gagged up my granola bar!!!

R540 Seriously. I read, reread, and reread that. I still don't get it.

Look out. The Bav is baking. Landlady must be away and he snuck in the kitchen. Pan is the lookout.

How amazing that we’ve almost gotten through a whole new Bav thread! Great work, everyone!

where is the new thread?

Yes, please, where? I leave it to the clever geniuses behind such great stealth titles.

The best DL threads on DL!

"I leave it to the clever geniuses behind such great stealth titles."

Leave it to Bavor!

She’s like watching a slow moving car wreck, or a sand spider preying patiently for his next barista/theatergoer victim to prey on.

Bav reminds me of when I was once a young and fabulous twink,, it was always the gay older men like Bav that would create all sorts of deliberate reasons to put themselves directly in my path, often cockblocking me from other twinks!

That one was mine, R591 -- very proud it caught on so well!

May I just take this moment to welcome back DoomLA

Next thread

R594 Thanks. I tried to stay away. It was a heroic, valiant effort. But somehow an odoriferous, oleaginous blue light found me pilgrimming and manifesting my way back to the shitfest.

We love you, DoomLA.

DoomLA, you're a crucial prt of these threads.

Shucks; thaks. United in the warm glow of love founded on mutual, targeted revulsion. One needs to spew!

^ here's that missing "n"