The Facebook Page of David Lynch

                             
                
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David Lynch

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(Note: This is a parody. This is not actually written by David Lynch or it would be weirder.  Probably way weirder.)

Hi!  I'm famed director David Lynch and this is my Facebook page.  I'm glad you decided to stop by and spend some time.  Contrary to what you might think, I'm just a regular guy like all the rest of you.  I mow my lawn on a Saturday, take the kids to the mall on a Sunday, and subvert all that's human and decent in the world the rest of the week. Come join me.

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I do love me my cat videos, but it's so hard to find good ones anymore. Here's one that I'm sure will warm your heart and leave you with a smile.  It's a video of a little kitty being swallowed whole by a snake with a surprisingly huge unhingeable jaw. Enjoy, Facebook Friends!    

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Nothing is more fun than looking at posts of the breakfast, lunch, and dinners of my Facebook Friends.  Anywho, here's the lunch I was privileged to enjoy this afternoon --- honey baked ham, swiss cheese, selected vermin, and ammonium nitrate, all cooked to perfection. I had two helpings and then puked my guts out.  Woo-hoo! 

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BTW,  I've loved puke ever since my days living in Philadelphia, no comparison intended. Here's a quick pic below. Wanna see more? A Comprehensive Retrospective of David Lynch Vomit, 1974-2003 is just a click away on my website ... 

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If there's one American entertainer I truly adore, it's the Polish Prince himself, Mr. Bobby Vinton!  I've been privileged to catch the ageless Mr. Vinton's act a number of time in beautiful Branson Missouri.  Here he is beltin' out the ever lovely "Blue Velvet," the song that has made him an American favorite with folks of all ages. Afterwards Frank Booth and I went backstage and the three of us engaged in a wide variety of sadomasochistic acts.

                                                               Bobby Vinton - Blue Velvet.mp4

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WOOT! I'm delighted to share with you the news that I have been tapped to direct my very first Rom Com entitled "When Larvae Met Sally." Not to tip off too much here, but get this:  it's New Year's Eve and Larvae realizes for the first time he loves Sally, but she's leaving on a plane to England to marry the Elephant Man. Can Larvae slither after her in time? I'm melting hearts here!

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Here's a lovely shot of Isabella Rossellini at a fun picnic the two of us went on together during the filming of Blue Velvet.  What a beautiful afternoon! We went to a nearby park where we ate sandwiches and drank ice tea, nuzzled together on a blanket, and smeared fresh blood all over each other to see if we could attract savage man-eating bears. No such luck. Phooey!

     

                        

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To her, I'm just "the Hubs."  I call her the "bi-i-i-t-c-h."  Know why? Frankly I've been married so many times I don't remember my wife's actual name!  Here the bi-i-i-t-c-h" and I are posing with BFFs Russell Brand and some random guy. Following the taking of this picture I performed an emergency frontal lobotomy on Russell and afterwards he seemed much more normal, and way funnier.

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 You may want to take this Buzzfeed quiz, especially if your life is so impoverished you have no earthly better thing to do which is likely since you're sitting in the house on a nice day like this huddled over my Facebook page. Which David Lynch character are you?

a) Frank Booth (even I hope not)

b) Some character or other from Dune, nobody's seen it anyway

c) Henry Spencer (but only his hair)

d) The Elephant Man

e) Actress Laura Elena Herring's prodigious left boob

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Here I am with fave gal pals Betty Elms, Rita, Diane Selwyn, and Camilla Rhodes.  Now if you're wondering why there are only two women in the picture and four names in the post, you need to watch Mulholland Drive another half dozen times or so.  Maybe even more. If you still don't get it, don't worry. There's always Adam Sandler movies.

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Did you know that just like Agent Cooper, I give myself a present every day of two cups of good, hot, back coffee?  I even have my own special blend, possessed of just a hint of a secret ingredient which provides it with a distinctive richness, aroma, and flavor. Delicious! You can order by clicking below.  Drink up, my Facebook Friends!

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Of Mammaries and the Movies, or My Take on Tits

At no point in the classic Hitchcock film “Northwest by Northwest” do we witness star Gary Grant’s bare butt writhing and thrusting on top of a naked Eva Marie Saint as he caresses her undulating breasts.

That's because “North by Northwest” was made in the 1950's, before people began having sex.

Or at least began having sex in the movies.

What the audience sees instead is the train they’re traveling on roar into a tunnel, the sight of which impelled me to beg my parents for years to take me on train trips that included lots of tunnels.

  

Back in the 50's and early 60’s, the epitome of celluloid sex was a profile shot of the rapidly maturing Mouseketeer Annette Funicello turning sideways or a glimpse of Barbara Eden's navel on a day the “I Dream of Jeanie” makeup man ran out of putty.

Nowadays I know every square inch of Anne Hathaway's anatomy almost as well as does the Jewish guy she married!  

It was 1968 when naked boobs first came to neighborhood movie screens. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw what looked like eyes when a hot young blonde nonchalantly peeled off her top in the movie “Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush.”

I raced home and threw my entire collection of National Geographics in the trash.

Boobs thereupon began bouncing abundantly anywhere and everywhere on the silver screen.

Nowadays everything goes in the movies including any sense of propriety.  It's a rare film that doesn't feature Mark Ruffalo hammering Julianne Moore, Natalie Portman switching teams with Mila Kunis, or Paul Reubens responding in kind in the audience.

But these days except when either the film - or my mood - truly calls for sex, I’d just as soon watch “Frozen.”

No, I'm not suggesting we return to the days of Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint acting like saints until the rapid approach of a well-timed tunnel. There were layers of reality and story-telling lost due to the sensitivities of the times. But there was also something discrete and respectful that’s missing today that helped make many of the older films classics.

It has never been my burning passion to turn on Turner Classic Movies and see Ethel Barrymore or Margaret Hamilton frolicking nude on a beach. The great screwball comedies starring the likes of Gary Grant and Katherine Hepburn are better without the alternate connotations of “screw” and “ball.”

And as for classics like “Casablanca?” 

"Did you leave me for Lazlo because he had a bigger penis?"

"No, Rick, I left you because Victor Lazlo is my husband.  Because he’s a great man and a great leader of our cause. And he has a bigger penis."

Nah, gimme my film classics straight - unabridged, crotch-less, boob-free and with a minimum of writhing.

I'm glad I got to see Isabella Rossellini's tits in “Blue Velvet.”

But I'm even gladder I never got to see her mom's.  

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