I sortof can’t help but wonder what the guy on the left is thinking. His head (comfortably? lovingly?) nestled against Jim Henson’s armpit (Henson’s a fellow UMD alum, btw) and his arm raised in an Ernie-esque victorious salute reminiscent only of Churchill or Jim Morrison.
Reach for the stars, my dear corduroy-pants-wearing friend. Reach for the stars.
(Via the always-entertaining Kirsten )
My good friend Shamil and I were talking the other day and, as is oft to happen, our conversation started shifted from deep things that intellectual men speak of (um, North Korea? Why everyone likes True Blood?) to movies from our childhoods. Now, I’ve known Shamil since 9th grade and our still-running joke is to turn every conversation to us quoting Jurassic Park. (I may have exaggerated when I said “intellectual” or “men”.) Today was a shift and we spoke of the Three Amigos. I loved this movie (and totally just queued it up on Netflix).
Also, El Guapo’s accented English always reminded me of my uncles.
But seriously, True Blood?
Comments (2):
I never realized that Ernie’s hands were people hands but Bert’s hands were wired hands. Huh.
It is a bizarre picture. The things we do for art!
I know, right? I wonder what their resumes looked like.
* 1972-1976 Ernie’s right hand.