Julia Louis Dreyfus did 8 seasons of Seinfeld. She earned roughly $60 000 per episode for seasons 2, 3 and 4 (59 episodes), which makes about $3,5 million. She earned $150 000 per episode for seasons 5, 6, 7, and 8 (92 episodes); which makes about $13,8 million. She earned $600 000 per episode for the final season (24 épisodes), which makes about $14,4 million. That’s about $32 million. Adjusted for inflation, that’s 53 million dollars in 2020. Julia has no ownership stake in the show, so she doesn’t profit from syndication deals. However, she gets some royalties from reruns, which represent less than $500 000 each year, and she gets a percentage on DVD sales. All in all, she earned something like a conservative (adjusted) 70 million dollars with Seinfeld alone. Now she’s also worked on Veep, with an average salary of $250 000 per episode (65 episodes), which makes 17 million dollars. She also did The New Adventures of Old Christine, a show that lasted for 5 seasons and 88 episodes, for which she earned at least $150 000 per episode = 14 million dollars. She was also a producer on that show and Veep, which surely increased her revenues considerably, included stakes in syndication. That could represent as much as what she earned as an actor on those shows = $30 million. On top of all that, she has appeared before and after Seinfeld in more than 150 episodes of various TV shows and movies, for which she got paid. Let’s conservatively say she got paid an average $30 000 per such episode, that makes $4,5 million. There are also endorsements deals, like the big campaign she did for Old Navy, and Clairol, ATT, Yes Network… Let’s round that up to 5 million dollars. All in all, Julia earned more than 150 millions dollars (adjusted) from her work as an actress and producer. But that’s almost ridiculous compared to her family wealth. Her father was billionaire Gérard Louis-Dreyfus, whose net worth was estimated at $3,4 billion in 2006. He passed away in 2016, probably leaving his fortune to his 4 children. So Julia Louis-Dreyfus is doing just fine financially, one might say.

In 1992, John McEnroe opened the door to Tatum O’Neal’s apartment and stopped cold. The room was dark, toys were everywhere, and Tatum lay on the couch, barely awake, surrounded by pills and alcohol. He didn’t yell. He didn’t argue. He just took their three kids and left. The next day, he called his lawyer. Tatum’s diary, later read in court, had one heartbreaking line: “They took my kids. Not even the Oscar meant as much as losing them.” For a moment, the courtroom went still. She had been Hollywood’s golden child—winning an Oscar at just 10 years old for Paper Moon (1974). But behind the scenes, her life was chaos. Her father, Ryan O’Neal, struggled with drugs and anger. Her mother lost custody due to addiction. Tatum grew up surrounded by fame and dysfunction. When she married McEnroe in 1986, it seemed like a fresh start. He was a tennis legend, fierce and famous. But their marriage quickly turned volatile. They fought constantly. McEnroe later said their arguments drained him more than any match. Tatum, still haunted by her past, turned to pills and alcohol. By 1992, their marriage was over. They separated, but after McEnroe found her that night, he fought for full custody. Tatum tried to prove she was getting better—going to rehab, therapy, court-ordered evaluations. But the damage was too deep. At one hearing, a social worker read another line from her diary: “I want to be the mother they remember with love, not fear.” Even McEnroe looked down. The judge gave him full custody. Tatum was allowed only supervised visits. Years later, in her memoir, she wrote: “Addiction stole everything—my family, my peace, even my name. I wasn’t Tatum the actress anymore. I was Tatum, the warning.” The custody battle wasn’t just about legal rights. It was about a lifetime of pain, and a mother who lost the one thing she couldn’t replace. Her real fight wasn’t for fame—it was for her children’s trust. And that was the hardest role of her life. Image: © UK Press

In 1980, 19-year-old Jean Hilliard was found "frozen solid" in Minnesota on a -22-degree day. After encountering car troubles, she tried to get help from her friend Wally Nelson but accidentally tripped, fell, and lost consciousness on the way to his home. Nelson, who had no idea that Hilliard needed assistance until he discovered her frozen body near his home six hours later, was sure that she had died — until he saw "bubbles" coming out of her nose. Luckily, Nelson acted quickly and took her to the hospital, where doctors were horrified by the extent of her hypothermia. In fact, her skin was reportedly so hard that it couldn't be punctured with a hypodermic needle, they broke on contact. Her body temperature was so low that it was not detected by a clinical thermometer. The medical team decided to gradually warm Hilliard's body with heating pads even though they believed she was dead. After three hours of gradually warming up her body, a faint pulse was detected. When she woke up, she was concerned about what her father would do when he learned she had wrecked his Ford LTD. Hillard told people it felt as if she had simply fallen asleep and awoken in a hospital.

In 1871, a man was on trial for murder in a packed Ohio courtroom, facing a certain death sentence, until his own lawyer committed the ultimate sacrifice to prove his innocence. Thomas McGehan was accused of shooting a man during a barroom brawl. The prosecution’s case was ironclad: witnesses claimed McGehan had drawn his pistol and fired a fatal shot. But his defense attorney, Clement Vallandigham, had a different theory. He believed the victim had accidentally shot himself while trying to draw his own weapon from a kneeling position. To the jury, it sounded like a desperate fairy tale—until Vallandigham decided to show them. In his hotel room before the final closing argument, Vallandigham set up a demonstration for his legal team. He placed two pistols on a table: one loaded, one supposedly empty. He picked up what he believed was the empty weapon, tucked it into his pocket, and knelt on the floor to recreate the victim's final moments. As he pulled the gun to show how it could snag on clothing and discharge upward into the abdomen, a deafening crack shattered the room's silence. Vallandigham had grabbed the loaded pistol by mistake. He had successfully demonstrated that the shooting could be an accident—by accidentally shooting himself in the exact same spot as the victim. He clutched his stomach, realizing the gravity of his error, but remained focused on the mission. He survived long enough to complete the trial's narrative. The jury, having witnessed the "demonstration" of a lifetime, reached a verdict in minutes: Not Guilty. Thomas McGehan walked free, a transformed man. Vallandigham, however, died the next morning from his wounds. He is the only lawyer in history to win a murder trial by successfully executing the crime on himself in front of the witnesses.

Wtf is ronaldo doing?????

In 1974, the CIA spent $800 million on a giant mechanical claw just to steal a dead man’s secret from the bottom of the world. The year was 1968. A Soviet ballistic missile submarine, the K-129, vanished into the crushing depths of the Pacific Ocean. The Kremlin was blind; they searched for weeks but found nothing but salt and silence. But the Americans were listening. Using a top-secret network of underwater hydrophones, the U.S. Navy triangulated a single, violent acoustic event: the sound of a hull imploding three miles down. The target was sitting 16,500 feet below the surface—deeper than any salvage operation in human history. It wasn't just a wreck; it was a goldmine of Soviet codebooks and nuclear warheads. To get it, the CIA needed a miracle and a lie. They built the Glomar Explorer, a massive, custom-designed ship equipped with a giant mechanical claw named "Clementine." To hide their tracks, they enlisted reclusive billionaire Howard Hughes to provide the ultimate cover story: he was supposedly building the ship for "deep-sea mining" of manganese nodules. For weeks, the world watched as a billionaire's vanity project allegedly scraped the sea floor. In reality, the Glomar Explorer was hovering over a radioactive grave, lowering miles of heavy pipe into the abyss. When the claw finally reached the K-129, it gripped the steel ghost and began the slow, agonizing ascent. But as the submarine reached the halfway point, the unimaginable happened. The maraging steel of the claw, brittle under the extreme pressure, snapped. Two-thirds of the Soviet sub broke away and plummeted back into the darkness, taking the primary codebooks and missiles with it. Only the bow section remained. Inside, the Americans found the bodies of six Soviet sailors. In a final, surreal act of Cold War respect, the CIA filmed a full military burial at sea for the men they had tried to rob, complete with the Soviet national anthem. When the press finally caught wind of the operation years later, the CIA issued a response that would change the English language forever: "We can neither confirm nor deny."

Tokyo’s Oldest Man Hadn’t Left His Room in 30 Years. Turns Out, He Couldn’t. In 2010, Tokyo officials tried to visit Sogen Kato to honor him ahead of Respect for the Aged Day. At 111, he was believed to be the city’s oldest living man. His family politely turned them away every time, explaining that the reclusive centenarian had shut himself in his room decades ago, claiming he wished to become a living Buddha. Officials grew suspicious and eventually obtained a warrant. Inside a locked back bedroom, police found Kato’s mummified remains lying in bed, wearing underwear and pajamas. Newspapers scattered around the room were dated November 1978. He hadn’t been alive for 32 years. His granddaughter later confessed. The family had quietly continued collecting Kato’s government pension the entire time, roughly $109,000 in total. She told investigators they simply never reported his death and left the room untouched for three decades while the checks kept coming. But the real twist came after. Kato’s case triggered a nationwide audit of Japan’s centenarian records. Authorities discovered they could not confirm whether 234,354 people listed as over 100 years old were actually still alive. Hundreds were found to have been dead for years, some for decades, while pensions flowed into family bank accounts undisturbed. One man’s mummified body didn’t just expose a family secret, it exposed that an entire country’s record-keeping had quietly fallen apart.

She built a snow maze for the dogs. The dogs are happy. — things that made me smile

Muhammad Ali attempted to lift the 76-year-old former World Bantamweight boxing champion, Johnny Coulon. Coulon was believed to be known for a famous trick in which he used his finger on the lifter's neck and wrist, making himself seemingly unliftable. After retiring from boxing in 1914, Johnny Coulon, a former bantamweight champion, measuring 5 feet and weighing 110 pounds, took to the vaudeville circuit. He showcased his seemingly inexplicable ability to resist being lifted into the air. Coulon's act was straightforward. He would initially allow himself to be lifted by his "opponent," often a heavyweight boxer, wrestler, or weightlifter. The lifter would easily hoist the smaller man into the air, as Coulon would straighten his body into a vertical line and push down on the lifter's wrists, assisting in the lift. Then came Coulon's special counter-grip, where he allegedly lightly grasped the lifter's right wrist (over the pulse-point) with his left hand and placed his right index finger on the left side of the lifter's neck, near the carotid artery. It is speculated that no matter how much the lifter strained and struggled, Coulon remained firmly planted on the floor. 

Granddaughter Shares a Poignant Moment That Ends Her Grandparents' 60-Year Love Story Emily Hime realized that her idea of a romantic love story was flawed. She thought it was Romeo and Juliet but realized it was simply when people faced life and grew old together—like her grandparents. Hime's grandmother was diagnosed with cancer, and her condition quickly deteriorated. She watched as her grandfather stepped up to the plate and took on the laundry, cooking, and other tasks to help his wife in every way possible. He was there for her in her lowest moments and held her hand through it all. His devotion was never-ending, nor was his love and admiration for his beloved companion of almost sixty years. "It’s him being by her side every single day while she was hospitalized and every day while she remained in hospice. It’s him rubbing her face, kissing her forehead, and holding her hand every moment he can." The woman's grandfather showered his wife with compliments and told her she was beautiful even after her strokes and multiple rounds of chemotherapy. She was frail and did not look like her old self, but he thought she was more beautiful than ever. Hime was moved to tears as she witnessed the final chapter of their love story. She took a photo of their last precious moment and shared it online to encourage others.

Raise your hand if you believe Men actually love this

Is she on ozempic?

Martin Scorsese famously used Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960) as a template for one of the most brutal sequences in Raging Bull (1980). For Jake LaMotta’s climactic fight with Sugar Ray Robinson, Scorsese studied Hitchcock’s legendary shower scene shot by shot. Psycho’s 45-second murder contains dozens of rapid cuts and camera angles, creating terror without explicitly showing the knife entering the victim. Scorsese translated that same fragmented editing technique into the boxing ring. Instead of filming the fight like a traditional sports match, Scorsese wanted the audience to feel Jake’s fear, confusion, and physical punishment. He used extreme close-ups, slow motion, distorted perspectives, sudden cuts, exaggerated sound effects, and changing camera angles. The punches become almost abstract flashes of violence, making the ring feel less like a sporting arena and more like a nightmare. Sugar Ray’s attacks seem overwhelming because we experience them from Jake’s increasingly disoriented perspective. The genius is that Scorsese wasn’t simply copying Psycho—he was translating Hitchcock’s language of horror into the language of boxing. Hitchcock turned something ordinary—a woman taking a shower—into terror; Scorsese turned a boxing match into psychological horror. The result is one of cinema’s most unforgettable fight scenes, showing how a filmmaker can borrow another director’s technique while transforming it into something completely his own.

"I’ve done some films of a provocative nature, and you’d be surprised at some of the people who have walked up and told me they’re great fans of 'Secretary' (2002). I’m always intrigued whether that’s a practice in their life or not." --- James Spader Full Excerpt: "Interviewer: Considering some of the films you’ve made—'Sex, Lies and Videotape' (1989); 'White Palace' (1990); 'Secretary' (2002)—have women fans come on to you, and do they still? Spader: Not particularly. I’ve been very successful keeping a private face on things, even out in public. If you’re recognizable and you want to draw people to you in public, you can do that. I don’t. If people put their lives in the public eye a lot, people feel as if they’ve gotten to know them through the media. I try not to open the door to my private life in a public way. I appreciate people’s appreciation, but I maintain clear boundaries. I also haven’t played a series of approachable characters. But look, it would probably be wrong if I didn’t acknowledge that over the years there has been a demographic of women older than I who saw 'White Palace' and responded to it. I’ve done some films of a provocative nature, and you’d be surprised at some of the people who have walked up and told me they’re great fans of 'Secretary' (2002). I’m always intrigued whether that’s a practice in their life or not. Interviewer: S&M, you mean? Spader: Yes, or maybe they’re just intrigued, compelled or curious about it. To me 'Secretary' is a very funny, sweet, lovely love story—very touching in a way." (James Spader's interview with Stephen Rebello, Playboy, 2014)

In 1933, visionary choreographer Busby Berkeley amazed audiences with one of the most spectacular musical sequences ever filmed in the classic pre-Code film Footlight Parade.

Sylvester Stallone was evicted from his apartment in New York and lived for several months in the port's bus terminal. Desperate, he accepted an offer of $200 to star in an erotic film, “The Party at Kitty and Stud”. Stallone had the determination of his character Rocky and persevered. He drew inspiration from heavyweight champion Ali Wepner. He worked 20 hours a day writing the script for the movie Rocky with pen and paper. The film became a huge success and received 10 Oscar nominations. It won the awards for Best Picture and Best Director. Stallone is a humble and hardworking man. A true American hero.

Damn her flirting skills

Leonardo DiCaprio, Johnny Depp & Brad Pitt, 1990s.

In 2014, Jake Gyllenhaal lost over 30 pounds to play a role in Nightcrawler. In just a few months, he got back up to his normal weight and gained another 15 pounds of muscle to play a ravenous boxer in Southpaw. That alone deserves mention, and perhaps worry. However, I want to focus on the former movie. Throughout Nightcrawler, Gyllenhaal's character becomes increasingly horrible. He goes from a man wanting to make a career for himself to a monster who doesn't care who lives or dies. Throughout the last quarter of the movie, his behavior, his treatment of life or lack thereof, and his indifference to everything around him completely disgusted me. The way he portrayed his character, or the character itself made me feel physically sick. To be able to portray a character like that in such a way deserves all the praise. His performance ranks highly among my favorite performances of all time. He was sadly robbed of an Oscar nomination. It still gives me the shivers.