palmerpink

So many things wrong with that. I mean I know she has a penis but I doubt I'd want to touch it. (score one for suggesting 'strong' women are actually men! >.<) Point is, I'm gay, and evidently liberal, also ostensibly frontal-lobe capable, so it's an absurd suggestion. And yet some ad-bot seems to think otherwise. Clearly, she's in a fairly weak disguise on the right.  As I was browsing and replying to some hot guys on OKcupid, the adslot on the right was trying to hook me up with some hot local singles! Except they were girls. (Clearly, the adbot is under Coulter's influence!) I wasn't really paying any attention (as is often the case with anything that has boobs) until one face caught my eye--Coulter badly disguised as a glossy lipped, dark haired harlot!! Supposedly these adbots are supposed to stalk your interests and deliver enticingly relevant goodies you can't help but click. Right? So while I suppose it's on track with offer...

Lord knows I really want to rant right now; I've been angrier, sure, and I've felt more hurt, but the temptation is there to tear into this guy. But I'm supposed to be a grown up. He's supposed to be my friend--and I do care about that. I'm not supposed to even be taking these things so seriously anymore. So why the fuck am I? So I was dating a guy recently; we had four dates. I thought we were really starting to click. I'll admit it--I'd even begun to like the guy. Not quite like-like him, but there was a definite fondness growing. As I was learning more about him, I was liking what I learned more and more. We seemed to have chemistry, too. It was pretty nice how I could talk about smart stuff with him without either a) feeling like I was supposed to be talking down to him or b) feeling like he had to challenge me to a contest of who was the smartest fuck in the room. It was natural, intelligent, fun conversation. And that was really cool. I was defin...

Oh, so did I mention my glasses arrived Wednesday? I somehow doubt I did.... There's been a lot going on--which hopefully I'll get to blog about some this weekend--so I guess I forgot. Also, had no power Thursday. Snowmergency, 2011!!! Meanwhile I'm loving them. Still getting used to them but actually I often forget they're even on. That is until I realize I'm looking at something with more clarity than I'd ever dreamed possible. That's when it hits me. The world has shapes and stuff. And lines. It's kinda nuts. Also, amazing. I think I'm gonna get addicted to the geometries of every day life, man. That's how sweet this is. Today is my first real venture out into the real world with them. I'm not gonna count the snowmergency rescue attempt (definitely blogging about that one later...) cuz it was dark and snow got all over my glasses so they didn't make much of a difference. However, today, I'm heading down to Dupont Circle, to ...

So I decided that, in the spirit of originality, to declare Mondays henceforth be known on this blog as "Bad Movie Mondays". So that means (at least?) one of my infamous bad movie reviews a week. Hopefully this will force me to start working through my ever growing collection of bad movies/to maybe someday get good at reviewing movies. We'll just have to see, eh? This week's movie is a gay softcore porn/artflick called Laserblast . No, seriously, it's some kind of sci-fi thriller/horror thing--but this kid is ragingly gay. But tragically closetted. As you can tell, I heckled this one with some gay friends. For those of you who'd like a competent review of this movie, please check out my new lovers--though they don't know it yet--over at Mad Mad Mad Mad Movies.

My urge to poeticize this is pretty intense, however my thoughts are scattered. So there's very few people I actually despise; at the moment only one really comes to mind. The other day a boy I've really liked for a long while now--with whom I used to hook up & hang out with adorably quite a bit--informed me he was gonna go sex about with this faggot I dislike.

So my friend Meg made my week when she tipped me off to this: Tchaikovsky was fantastically   gay *. Like, unbelievably gay. Like, Freddie Mercury gay. Like, so gay his fabulousness radiated across Russia and warmed the hearts of millions (Ah, if only the Russians weren't such cold, heartless bastards, eh?). Oh, I came my pants. Verily. Such a bear; do you think he was much into leather, too?