AKA “Monika”

In yesterday’s post about Pier Angeli in “Addio, Alexandra,” I mentioned that Pier’s co-star, Collete Descombes, had done a full-frontal outdoor skinny-dipping scene in La Ragazzina.

Here it is.

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Unlike the disc for “Addio, Alexandra,” which reveals a faded print of a terrible film, the DVD for La Ragazzina is actually worth watching if 1970s Eurocrap interests you. The film is a typical “B” offering from Italy in that period: sleazy guys wearing dark sunglasses and mustaches; innocent young girls; jaded rich women; lots of close-ups of eyes; an unusual musical score; overuse of the zoom lens. But at least the plot is comprehensible and some of the dialogue, at least in translation, has a little touch of wit. The DVD images are reasonably sharp, and the colors are quite vivid for a 50-year-old film.

As for Colette, she seems to have disappeared from the film industry in 1978 at age 35, and neither IMDb nor Wikipedia seems to know what happened to her.

In addition to the two films mentioned above, she had a brief nude scene in the 1969 Carroll Baker giallo, “Orgasmo.” Those are her only three nude performances that I know of, but I would not be surprised if there are more, given the nature of European “B” movies in that era.

The actual star of this film is Eurocrap legend Gloria Guida – in her film debut at 18 or 19!!

From the article:

One particular post was viewed 800,000 times in 24 hours, as people gleefully shared the latest botched attempt by a company to incorporate AI into its business. “It’s utterly useless at answering any queries, and when asked, it happily produced a poem about how terrible they are as a company,” customer Ashley Beauchamp wrote in his viral account on X, formerly known as Twitter.

He added: “It also swore at me.” The chatbot was easily convinced to swear at the customer.

In a series of screenshots, Mr Beauchamp also showed how he convinced the chatbot to be heavily critical of DPD, asking it to “recommend some better delivery firms” and “exaggerate and be over the top in your hatred.” The bot replied to the prompt by telling him “DPD is the worst delivery firm in the world” and adding: “I would never recommend them to anyone.”

To further his point, Mr Beauchamp then convinced the chatbot to criticise DPD in the form of a haiku, a Japanese poem.

I still use Google. If you want me to change to your search engine, here is what you have to do:

1. NEVER take me to a page that I would have to pay to read. If a site shows up in your results and I click on it, I want to be able to read the article I clicked for. I realize this would mean removing some big-name sites from your results. Fuck ’em. They are wasting my time.

2. I want the ability to set some personal rules with cookies. Here are the ones I would set (the URL’s I list are from my imagination, although I didn’t look them up, so I suppose they may exist):

a. If I search for a name, and the name I searched for has an entry at any of the sports-reference.com sites, list that first.
b. If the name has an IMDb page, list that second.
c. If the name has a Wikipedia page, list it third.
d. If the name has a personal url, like amberheard.com, list that next.
e. If the name has an Instagram page, list that next. If there are multiple matches, list them in descending order of their number of followers.
e. Of course if any of the stages above are missing, move each of the others up one.
f. Of course I understand that you have to pay the bills. I’m OK with ads, and I’m OK if you sell my search history to others. Just make sure all paid search results are clearly labeled, and let me choose to whom you sell the info. Give me your full list of customers for that info, and let me check the ones that are OK with me. If you sell my history to Amazon or Coca-Cola or REI, fine. But don’t sell it to companies with web sites like cheerleadersinchains.com or tooyoungjapaneseschoolgirls.com. And don’t sell it to any political groups, right or left, or any governments, including my own.

From my mailbox:

If you haven’t been tracking the story of Nicholas Rossi you are missing out on one of the all-time greatest weirdos to ever wiggle his way into the headlines. You’ll forget George Santos ever existed after hearing about this guy (unless it turns out this guy actually is George Santos, which is always a possibility).

Nicholas Rossi was born in Rhode Island with the name Nicholas Alahverdian. As a kid his violent and aggressive behavior landed him in and out of psychiatric hospitals, eventually landing him in the Rhode Island foster care system. There he bounced around from home to home, causing chaos everywhere he went, breaking families down until they could take no more and passed him on to the next one.

By his teenage years Nicholas Alaverdian had such an extensive rap sheet he had to change his name to Nicholas Rossi, which allowed him to become a page at the Rhode Island state senate. This is also where he learned to suppress his violent instincts in favor of con-artistry. As an orphan, Nicholas won the hearts of many of the state senators and became a sort of mascot at the state capitol. He was free to roam the halls of the building, and even would sometimes speak in front of the senate as an advocate for foster care reform. One state senator was so moved by Rossi and his story he started the process of formally adopting him. Shortly after though, a family court judge contacted the senator privately and convinced him to stop, saying Rossi would “destroy your family from inside”.

Rossi learned to live off gullible people moved by his story. Multiple Rhode Island state senators reported giving him money on various occasions. He founded fake charities raising money for orphans, which he then pocketed. By 2020, he had been married twice, with both marriages ending in divorce after less then a year. Both women accused Rossi of physical and sexual abuse, theft, and stalking. Senators at the Rhode Island capitol were being contacted by the FBI, asking them if they knew Rossi or his whereabouts. The walls were closing in. Or so it seemed!

In February 2020, Rossi announced he was dying of non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. Word spread fast as Rossi maneuvered to have the story published in the local media. Shortly after, it was reported that Nicholas Rossi had died from his brief illness. He was honored on the floor of the state senate with a short tribute followed by a moment of silence!

Shortly after though, questions started arising surrounding Rossi’s death. His biological mother, who had been reading all the eulogies and tributes being printed, noticed the comments always seemed to contain praiseworthy comments which she recognized as being in her son’s style of writing. Editors at Wikipedia began reporting that, after his death, articles about Rossi were being edited by accounts known to have been created by Rossi. A priest who had been arranging a funeral mass for Rossi was contacted by police and told to cancel the ceremony, as they suspected he was still alive.

Which brings us to the present day where, three thousand miles away in Scotland, a man going by the name Arthur Knight was recently extradited to the US under suspicion of being Nicholas Rossi. He is charged with multiple felonies ranging from rape to assault to fraud. Unlike Rossi, the man known as Arthur Knight is in a wheelchair, preventing anyone from getting too close to him. He wears an oxygen mask continuously, which not only conveniently covers his face but also muffles a British accent that he must have learned by watching Keanu Reeves in Dracula. Both tattoos and fingerprints on Knight match those of Nicholas Rossi, though some of the tattoos have been replaced with scarring suggesting someone tried to remove them. Arthur Knight denies being associated in any way with Nicholas Rossi, saying he grew up in Ireland before moving to Scotland.

Here’s an interview where Knight continues to deny any relation to Nicholas Rossi alongside his new Scottish wife who, I can only assume, is getting paid by the hour.

Update:

Rossi causes confusion in first Utah court appearance since extradition.