The three-time Oscar winner’s disheveled appearance comes after multiple reports suggested the star’s pals were concerned he would die alone, in a similar manner to his former next door neighbor and fellow screen legend Marlon Brando.
Nicholson, 85, is arguably La La Land’s most famous bachelor. He was married for four years prior to making it in Hollywood. His most famous romance with Angelica Houston ended nearly 25 years ago.
The Shining star was last seen in October 2021 alongside his doppelganger son, Ray, sitting courtside watching his beloved LA Lakers. Ray, 31, is one of the few people that Nicholson keeps in contact with, according to reports.
On Thursday, Nicholson was pictured enjoying the fresh air overlooking Franklin Canyon Reservoir. He wore a loose-fitting pale orange shirt and baggy sweatpants as he leaned up against a balcony railing on the crisp morning outing.
Jack Nicholson has been seen for the first time in 18 months, hanging out on the balcony of his Mullholland Drive compound in Beverly Hills The 85-year-old wore a loose fitting pale orange shirt and baggy sweatpants as he leaned up against a balcony railing on the crisp morning outing
Nicholson’s appearance comes months after multiple reports suggested The Shining star has become a recluse Nicholson took turns sitting and standing while enjoying the Los Angeles morning. In video exclusively obtained by DailyMail.com, birds could be heard chirping while he tapped on the balcony railings.
At one point, the One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest star keenly observed a helicopter flying overhead.
He’s made it clear his home is his castle. But people just wish he’d come out of the house and pop up to tell them how — or at least reassure folks he’s OK,’ an unnamed friend told Radar Online in January.
‘Jack’s in touch with certain relatives — especially Ray, his protégé, who he’s so proud of — but his socializing days are long gone,’ they added. His last on-screen appearance came in 2010’s little known How Do You Know, starring alongside Owen Wilson and Reese Witherspoon.
The New Jersey-native has dodged rumors for years that he’s retired from acting as he is battling dementia and is unable to remember his lines.
In January, his unnamed friend told Radar that while Nicholson was in good shape physically, ‘his mind is gone.’
At one point, the One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest keenly observed a helicopter flying overhead
In video exclusively obtained by DailyMail.com, birds could be heard chirping as Nicholson tapped on his balcony railings
The New Jersey-native has dodged rumors for years that he retired from acting as he is battling dementia and was unable to remember his lines
In January, his unnamed friend told Radar Online that while Nicholson was in good shape physically, ‘his mind is gone’
Shortly after those reports emerged, former Fox News host Bill O’Reilly said during an episode of his No Spin News broadcast that reports that Nicholson’s mental health had diminished were ‘bull.’
I visited Jack Nicholson a few months ago. I had a long conversation with him and he follows the No Spin News very closely and had all kinds of intelligent questions for me,’ O’Reilly said.
‘I have been friends with him for decades. He is 85, okay? But he is more intellectually nimble than the president of the United States,’ the former Inside Edition host continued.’ Despite his confirmed bachelor status, Nicholson has fathered six children by five different women.
Nicholson has been criticized for never acknowledging his paternity of his alleged daughter Tessa Gourin, who was born out of his brief affair with waitress Jeanine Gourin.
Nicholson’s compound on Mulholland Drive. The actor started buying the land around the home in the 1970s
Nicholson pictured in October 2019 with the NBA’s 75th anniversary basketball at the Staples Center
In February, Tessa, an aspiring actress, published an essay in Newsweek titled ‘I’m Jack Nicholson’s Daughter – I Wish People Could Call Me a Nepo Baby.’
‘Having grown up without my father, I’ve sat on the sidelines and watched in frustration as other celebrity children have seamlessly secured roles or been signed to huge agencies,’ she wrote. ‘More recently, I have grown even more frustrated at what I think is a missed opportunity for these so-called “nepo babies” to own their position and embrace it instead of complaining about it,’ Tessa continued. For nearly four decades, Jack believed that his mom was his sibling, until 1974, when Time magazine uncovered the truth and told him about its findings. While speaking to Patrick McGilligan for his biography, entitled Jack’s Life, the Shining star called it ‘the most f**ked thing he had ever heard.’ He also said the discovery was ‘dramatic’, but added that it ‘wasn’t’ something he’d ‘call traumatizing.’
The actor later told Rolling Stone, when asked about the shock revelation: ‘I was very impressed by their ability to keep the secret, if nothing else. It’s done great things for me.’
My Husband Leaves Piles of Dirty Dishes and Refuses to Wash Them – One Day, I Taught Him a Real Lesson
Danielle’s kitchen once overflowed with dishes, but a playful plot turned it into a place of partnership. Discover how her creative maneuver sparked clean counters and renewed camaraderie in her marriage.
My name is Danielle, and at 45, I’ve pretty much seen it all. As a nurse, I spend ten hours a day making life a little easier for everyone else, but back at home, it’s a whole different story.
Danielle | Source: Midjourney
You see, my husband, Mark, works from home. He earns a good chunk more than I do, which somehow translates to him dubbing himself the “real breadwinner.” That’s his excuse for leaving every single household chore to me.
Our kitchen tells the tale of neglect every evening. “Welcome to Mount Dishmore,” I mutter as I walk in the door and the sight of piled-up dishes greets me. It’s like they’re competing for a mountain climbing record.
A pile of dirty dishes in the sink | Source: Pexels
Mark, lounging on the sofa, throws a casual, “Tough day?” my way without moving an inch.
“Yep, and it just got tougher,” I respond, eyeing the chaos in the sink. Something inside me snaps. Enough is enough.
Every morning, I leave a note on the fridge that reads, “Please wash any dishes you use today. Thanks!” But it might as well be invisible. By the evening, the kitchen sink is a disaster zone. Cups and plates tower precariously, a testament to Mark’s culinary adventures throughout the day.
The note | Source: Midjourney
One evening, as I balanced a frying pan on top of a wobbly stack of bowls, I asked Mark if he could help me with the dishes. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something here?” he said, his eyes glued to his laptop screen. That something was obviously very important. So important it couldn’t be paused for a few minutes to help clear the debris he’d contributed to all day.
I tried different tactics. More notes. More pleas. “Babe, it’s really hard for me to come home after a long shift and face this,” I told him one night, hoping for a sliver of empathy.
“It’s just a few dishes, Dani. You’ll get through them in no time,” he replied without looking up from his screen. His nonchalance stung.
Danielle comes to hide the mug in her closet | Source: Midjourney
The breaking point came on a particularly tough Thursday. After a grueling double shift, I came home to find the sink more crowded than a bargain bin on Black Friday. That was it. I was done being the sole dish fairy.
The next morning, I didn’t leave a note. Instead, I washed every dish—except one. Mark’s favorite mug, the one with the quirky superhero he’s loved since his teens. I cleaned it, dried it, and hid it in the back of our bedroom closet.
That evening, Mark rummaged through the cupboards with a frown. “Have you seen my mug?” he asked, sounding puzzled.
Mark tries to find his mug | Source: Midjourney
“Nope,” I said, keeping my voice light. “Maybe it’s lost in the great Mount Dishmore.”
He chuckled and grabbed another cup, but I saw the gears turning in his head. Each day that followed, a few more items mysteriously disappeared: a fork here, a spoon there, and his plate with the comic hero. I was waging a silent protest, and for the first time, I had his attention.
As the days passed, Mark’s favorite items began to vanish one by one. His favorite comic hero plate—gone. The steak knives we got for our anniversary—vanished. Each disappearance was meticulously planned. I continued my silent strike, my secret little rebellion against the kingdom of unwashed dishes that Mark had built.
Empty cupboard | Source: Midjourney
One morning, as Mark reached for a bowl to make his cereal, he paused, scanning the almost empty cupboard. “Dani, have we been robbed? Where’s all our stuff?”
I sipped my coffee, feigning confusion. “Hmm, I guess things are walking away since they’re not getting cleaned.”
Mark’s frustration bubbled as he used a measuring cup for his cereal. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered.
Cereal in a measuring cup | Source: Midjourney
I just shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in my eye. The kitchen had transformed into a culinary Bermuda Triangle, and Mark was finally noticing the chaos.
By Saturday, the climax of my plan unfolded. I announced a spa day for myself, leaving Mark home alone. “Enjoy your day!” I called cheerfully, knowing well the scene I’d return to.
I came back, relaxed and rejuvenated, to find Mark in the middle of the kitchen, staring bewildered at the barren counters and the near-empty sink. “Where are all the dishes?” he asked, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.
Mark tries to find the remaining dishes | Source: Midjourney
“They decided to wash themselves,” I quipped, hanging my coat.
That’s when it happened. Mark sighed, a deep, resigning sigh. He filled the sink with water, squirted some soap, and started scrubbing the few pieces left. I lounged in the living room, the clinks and clatters from the kitchen music to my ears. Mark was finally partaking in the symphony of chores.
Watching him tackle the task, I felt a wave of satisfaction mixed with relief. It wasn’t just about the dishes; it was about sharing our lives, all parts of it. I appreciated his effort, seeing it as a sign of his love, as much as a recognition of my daily toil.
Mark washes the rest of the dishes | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, I ‘discovered’ all the missing items. “Oh look, they’ve come back from their adventure,” I exclaimed, showing him the box of neatly arranged dishes and cutlery.
Mark looked at me, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “I guess I didn’t realize how much it was really,” he admitted. “It’s a lot to deal with alone, isn’t it?”
“It sure is,” I agreed, happy to hear those words.
From that day on, Mark made a genuine effort. He’d wash his coffee mug right after finishing his morning brew. Sometimes, I’d find him battling Mount Dishmore without any prompt. The sight was as refreshing as my spa day had been.
Danielle enjoys her SPA day | Source: Midjourney
The sippy cup, a relic from my campaign, now sat prominently on a shelf, a light-hearted trophy from our domestic battleground, reminding us both of the lessons learned and the peace restored.
Nowadays, our evenings are quite the idyllic scene, a stark contrast to the chaotic nights of the past. Mark and I share the kitchen duties seamlessly, humming along to old ’80s hits while we cook and clean together. He washes the dishes as I dry them, each plate and cup sparking small conversations about our day.
Mark and Danielle | Source: Midjourney
The kitchen, once a battleground of unwashed dishes and unspoken frustrations, has transformed into a place of laughter and collaboration. Mark often jokes about the “Great Dish Disappearance.” We chuckle at the memory, appreciating how far we’ve come.
I Am 8 Months Pregnant and My Husband’s Night Eating Is Constantly Leaving Me Hungry
Hey everyone, just here sharing a bit of my life as I’m 8 months pregnant and super excited about our little one coming soon. But, I’ve got this kind of weird situation at home making things tougher than expected. My biggest challenge isn’t the usual pregnancy stuff, but my husband, Mark, and his relentless nighttime eating.
A man eating against a dark backdrop
Every night, after midnight, Mark goes on his kitchen raids. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if it didn’t hit me so hard. He literally eats everything—meals I prepped for the next day, my lunch leftovers, you name it. When you’re 8 months pregnant and wake up to find no food, then have to either cook again or run to the store, it’s just exhausting.
An upset pregnant woman holding her belly | Source: Shutterstock
We’ve talked about this so many times, but he just laughs it off and suggests I should simply make more or stash away some special snacks for myself. It feels like he’s not taking any of this seriously, just treating it as a quirky thing he does.
An upset woman with her head in her hands as her husband looks on | Source: Shutterstock
So, last Thursday night really showed me how bad it’s gotten. I spent the afternoon cooking up a big batch of my favorite chili, thinking it would last a few days and was even considerate enough to make extra for Mark.
A ramekin filled with chili | Source: Pexels
But come 1 AM, there I am, woken up by pots banging. I find Mark in the kitchen, helping himself to nearly all the chili. “Babe, I was just so hungry, and it smelled so good,” he tried to explain, clueless about the effort I put into making it last. “I made that chili so we could have meals ready for the week. We can’t keep doing this. I’m totally out of energy, and it’s really not fair,” I told him.
A crying pregnant woman | Source: Shutterstock
His solution? “Why don’t we just make more tomorrow?” I was too tired to argue and just went back to bed, but I knew something had to change. I couldn’t keep up like this, not this far into my pregnancy.
A man arguing with his pregnant wife | Source: Shutterstock
Things just kept going the same way. Mornings where I’d find my meals and snacks gone were becoming the norm. It was draining, and after one morning of finding out he’d eaten the lasagna I’d planned for lunch, I hit my breaking point.
A slice of lasagna garnished with basil | Source: Pexels
Sitting on the kitchen floor, surrounded by grocery bags because I was too worn out to put them away, I called my sister. I was in tears, telling her how Mark’s eating habits were leaving me hungry and messing up my sleep every night.
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