Words Fail Me (An Occasional Series): Post-Paris Beatles Edition

I'm still running on vacation time here, folks, so indulge me once again. In any case, this is definitely good for a mordant chuckle or two.

The Fabs, at a certain age.



Hey -- it could have come to this in real life.

Although the really dark fantasy I used to have was Jim Morrison if he hadn't croaked in that Parisian bathtub. Can you imagine that poor SOB, fat and fifty, still trying to pour himself into those leather pants and do those Nijinsky leaps onstage?

In any case, serious postings (or as serious as they ever are) resume on Monday.

[h/t Andy "Folk Rock" Pasternack]

[Shameless Blogwhore: My they-pay-me-for-it Cinema Listomania is now up over at Box Office, as usual. Theme: Best or worst movies about American politics. If you could spare a moment to go over there and drop a comment, I'd be forever in your debt.]