It’s all a show with Jennifer Lopez and Alex Rodriguez


Months ago I told you that the JRoids fed the flour sports writers. I tell you Alex and Jenny he couldn’t get the Mets.

I told you that neither the bread nor the men who had approached had said uh-uh. Like when you conned the media saying you won an Oscar for last year’s strip film? LA teachers had told me “in their dreams.”

The couple sells newspapers. Make a good copy. Titles behind, were Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. The pairings make a good impression. First they meet, then dates, then hide, then denial, then ecstasy, then an engagement, then a marriage, then a divorce. The people of this couple stayed at home. Only that it is not good to convince the public.

Apart from. Jenny from the Bronx is a sworn Yankee fan. Check the clips. They wore Yankee hats, NYY striped hats. Once she took my Yankee ring from my hand, put it on her soybean, took photos, flashed it around, promised me the picture and – despite repeated requests – didn’t I never sent it. Don’t give a damn about this other team. For her, a Met is an opera. His idea was celebrated in the stadium seats. Flavor Flav and The Boogie Wit From Hoodie that are on the home plate really help the team.

Remembering being asked to take reinforcement drugs, Rodriguez replied, “Who, me? Not me.” What’s better for an all-American sports owner than for a player to join their team?

Meanwhile, she needs him because of his multiple habit of men. He needs her to stay on the news. So they took it back. They will reinforce a co-latin shtick. Or buy more houses to sell for income. Listen, I’m definitely not alone in knowing that there’s more to tell. Hold on.

NYFF goes to the outer borough

The public can now purchase tickets for Lincoln Center’s 58th New York Film Festival, which takes place from Thursday to October 11. One more week than before. No screening at home. They are in the drive of the Bronx, Queens and Brooklyn. All press interviews conducted on the computer. No appearance in person. No red carpets.

It’s 25 movies. The opening night is Amazon’s sensual “Rock Lovers”. An anthology of decades of illuminating films about the community of London Antiquity. Steve McQueen is bold in a bold way. An intoxicating 1980s set is a house party one night. Reggae, liberated bodies in biiiig movement. OK?

Central plant is Searchlight’s “Nomadland,” which hits theaters this fall. Frances McDormand plays an older widow traveling with the bottom of the American West. A year in the life of a stoic, stubborn lady, forever in a now-defunct company city, she leaves in an old van in search of seasonal work.

Closing night of Sony Pictures Classics’ world premiere of “French Exit”. Michelle Pfeiffer plays an imperious society whose wealth has gone kaput then escapes from New York with a cruise ship, moves to Paris with her son Malcolm (Lucas Hedges), plus her cat who, although expressed by Tracy Letts , does not stage Michelle.

In addition 22 more movies.

You will have to keep in Hamps

The Hamptons International Film Festival. From the 8th to the 14th of October. The slate includes “A Night in Miami,” a conversation with Leslie Odom Jr., plus documentaries. Same drive-in affair. The only hang-up is if you need John, you have to step back, turn right, make a left at the Montauk sign and a quick three miles down the road in front of a fallen pine tree is a gas station.

The book is “4” him

Boy, 3 years old, spies on a dog. Overheating. Sparkling wine. Wandering, lost. Checking her identity, the father finds owner James Frey, who has rushed to reclaim Priscilla. He had snatched it from his leash. Frey once had a TV spank when Oprah discovered she had fabricated her best-selling “memoir” “A Million Little Pieces.”

Now, 10 years later, this son doesn’t like to read. Frey, whom no one has adored before, is hot with a best seller that she co-wrote under a pseudonym, “I Am Number 4.” Dad This Slotnick phones happiness. In gratitude, Frey sends a collection of his works. The sci-fi books fascinate Noah, now 13, who today can’t stop reading.

Only in New York, children, only in New York.

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