Research shows that smell, touch and taste are strong evokers of nostalgia. Marcel Proust’s cookie broke in 1913 and it caused him to write seven ridiculously long and unreadable volumes.
As a young boy, I went to camp with Jeffrey Epstein. I want to disclose that the Jeffrey Epstein I went to camp with, befriended, and shared a bunk bed with was not the same Jeffrey Epstein who committed suicide over this past weekend.
Thank you British films and British actresses. Thank you Lily James and Felicity Jones and Kate Winslet and Emma Watson and Keira Knightley and you too, Audrey Hepburn (born in Belgium, but British to me).
Here’s my burning question for Theresa May: Where are your balls? You’re an outgoing Prime Minister with absolutely nothing to lose and absolutely everything to gain, including your dignity. And you do nothing!
Nobody wants to go on record about this, but I’m fed up and I’m taking a stand. There’s a pattern of British bands coming here, stealing our blues, taking our women, and criticizing America in their lyrics.
We are in a UK comedy drought. We know your political system has fallen to shit. So has ours. Neither situation is funny. Where are the stories on politicians defending Muslim women’s rights and in the same breath calling them letter boxes? That’s funny stuff!