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Madonna "Everybody" (live and immortal) |
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I don't think this is an actual entry, but let's point out the top 5 things that rule in life right now:
1. Amy Winehouse. Did we see that Grammy performance? Effing brilliant. And tinged with some crack? Um, probably, thank God. That's where the passion comes from. Just ask scientists.
2. Kevin McDonald from "Kids in the Hall": Brother is a riot. I interviewed him on the phone today, and he stopped me mid-interview and said, "Just to let you know, these are great questions, I'm not used to this. This is fun for me." Just what I suspected; I'm Barbara Walters.
3. The Advocate. A perennial favorite, of course, but this week they're paying me $325 to take pictures of gay people and ask them where they'd like to live. And I get published again! And a byline! And... um. Journalistic integrity. You know that's always the muse. With all my hard-hitting, roving reporter instincts up here. Woodward and Bernstein, watch your asses.
4. 30 Rock DVDs. Tina the fuck Fey. To quote my ultra-white, excellent former boss Jon, "She basically rocks the mic." And you rock the hip-hop flavor, Jon. Wear gang colors, I'm sure you'll be fine.
5. Proj Run. Technically it's the worst season ever. As a matter of fact, that's a scathingly true fact. However, Christian (who I don't particularly like) is starting to call Tim Gunn "lady," and I'm prepared to give credit where it's due. Anddd of course Chris "Sissybear" March keeps ringing in 1982 with that fucking leopard-print poncho-gone-fat-guy-shirt -- and my obsession with him lives on.
To conclude, I also went to the gay bar tonight, which was surprisingly not filled with making out. You can never predict the nights when you're pressed against the mirror wall by some guy named Tony or Andrew or "The Blade." But that's the mystery of life, of course.
In other news, I've disappointed myself with an unfulfilling crush, once again. So ridiculous the train of thought behind a crush. For me, anyway. It's so not about actually pursuing something romantic -- it's more about diverting myself from the present and living in gay la-la land for awhile. Something to tide me over while fame is still in the distance. You understand. Also, a "former acquaintance of mine" (shall we call him "John"?) performed in a show I saw, and dammit, he seemed competent. Talk about pissing me off. What could be worse than when you need to convince others to hate your arch-nemesis? I want to just snarl, "Um, he clearly has the brain of a parrot and the social skills of my mute cousin. Do I have to hit you with your own furry boots, Ashley?" But by that time, of course, Ashley's already texted "John" that she can't wait for him to play with her boobs. And there I am, taking up smoking, and just knowing one day I'll tell Tim Gunn all about this, and he'll be like, "What fuckers. Let's do eight jager bombs and talk about Kitty Carlisle all night." Ugggh, hurts to be so prophetic and coooool.
Anyway.
Big love to all, hope your semester/life/diversions-from-life kick ass. I like saying "to all," since I dream of being Evita, drunk with national power and a painfully tied-back platinum bun. Madonna played her kind of geisha-like, no? Like all her movements were rigid and rehearsed and clean-for-master? Can we also talk about my favorite YouTube video of all time (besides the one where Alex Trebek drunkenly curses at a camera crew)?
Here's a badass selection I like to call, "Madonna's wearing fuschia right now, and that means she gets to yell at concertgoers":
(Check the comments for the vid.)
That probably doesn't work at all, but whatever, let's laugh at Deadjournal's html from the '40s.
LOVE to all. Let's quit wasting time, make up our minds, and get into the groove.
Xoxo, forever,
Louis
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