You know, this Monday's mix is from a band that doesn't really reflect my surliness at the moment, but hey: what can you do?
So, today we have Pansy Division because we need some boys up in this joint, right? It's queercore, it's fun poppy punk about ... hmm. Well, here's the thing, when I first heard Pansy Division, I was a very young, know-nothing 'mo, and their songs used to make me blush. For reals. Hey, I'm from a small town, what can I say?
The tracks:
- "Horny in the Morning" - It's a punk song. About morning wood. God, I love gay punk rock.
- "Versatile" - Heteroflexible dudes for the win? "There's a few straight guys I know/ There's a few straight guys I've blown". Yep.
- "Luv Luv Luv" - Love is bad, sex is good, m'kay?
- "You Make Me Hot" - It's a Donnas cover ... I think. Here's the thing: I'm not sure if The Donnas' version is actually the original, so forgive me if it isn't.
- "Bad Boyfriend" - Hi, my name is [insert name here], and I'm shitty at relationships!
Was it sad, foreshadowing or just plain ironic that my mom bought me this for Christmas one year? Along with giving me pepper spray in my Christmas stocking, she would buy me items that, in her mind, would protect me or somehow make me a safer person in general. One year I got the pink tool kit, the next I opened a blow-your-tire-back-up-in-a-jiff generator that hooked up to a cigarette lighter. I sort of wish I still had that one.
Now how to sit her down and tell her that down the road, I'd identify as a femme who knows how to wield a few of those tools found in the pink tool kit?
UPDATE: I looked closely into the tool box and I can safely say I know how to wield ALL the tools.
Tentimesfast posted a story about Barack Obama's South Carolina tour with "radical right singer who crusades against the 'curse of homosexuality.' "
Looks like Obama is sticking to his guns.
Earlier this week, the Human Rights Campaign protested the tour and asked Obama to drop the anti-gay minister, Donnie McClurkin, from his fundraising tour. Instead of dropping the hetero hot pocket, Obama decided to clarify.
From The Washington Blade:
"I strongly believe that African Americans and the LGBT community must stand together in the fight for equal rights,” Obama said in a statement. “And so I strongly disagree with Rev. McClurkin’s views and will continue to fight for these rights as president of the United States to ensure that America is a country that spreads tolerance instead of division."
Methinks Obama is still willy nilly on LGBT rights and doesn't know what to do with the pickle he's found himself in. I don't think he realized the power of Teh Gay when we all mobilize. Stay tuned.
Seriously? This is so poppy and perfect and wonderful ... oh, wait, right. They're queer. So, one of the most mainstream-friendly and accessible queer pop punk bands ever is done forEVA. Still: amazing video.
Is Melissa York not the most animated, fantastic drummer you've ever seen? She makes my ADHD seem like a footnote. LOVE.
Sister Spit is coming to a town near you.
I saw the Sister Spit tour Back In The Day, and it was crazy crazy crazy rad. Michelle Tea + several other spoken word kids ... how can you not buy a ticket?
Wait, wait, wait: they're coming to D.C. on a night when I work, which: of fucking course they are. Again, the curse of working late nights kills me.
It's true. Queer Republic t-shirts are effin' clever.
Also? They don't use American Apparel shirts. A shirt company after my own heart!
American University is creating some gender-neutral bathrooms on its campus, much to my COMPLETE SHOCK AND SURPRISE.
Some students who seek gender-neutral bathrooms -- typically single bathrooms that lock rather than multistall facilities -- are transgendered men or women and could face questions or harassment from others in the bathroom who believe they don't belong there, said Brittney Hoffman, campus director for the Gender Public Advocacy Coalition's GenderYOUTH program. There are also students who, because of the way they look or dress, may get hostile comments in the women's or men's bathrooms and choose to avoid them.
1.) This isn't so bad
2.) Wait ...
3.) OH GOD THE EMU OIL DOESN'T HELP!
4.) FUCK.
5.) This is like taking my ears' virginity EVERY SINGLE TIME
One of the loveliest songs in recent memory, Antony and the Johnsons - "Hope There's Someone". It's live, it's wonderful, it breaks your heart a little tiny bit.
My brother sent me a link to this post at Cry It Out about 45 minutes before I ended up seeing it at three other blogs, which leads me to believe he's secretly reading up on his feminist bloggers. Good on you, Liberal Brother!
The post is "Girls kick ass, or the saga of Joltin’ Jo", and it's a little about a stay-at-home dad's struggle to find something unslutty for his daughter to wear on Halloween and a little about his research into women's baseball leagues from the 40s and 50s and a little bit more about dads just generally being rad with sports and their daughters. I got to this part before I got all misty-eyed and had to bounce from my desk:
Wilson never made it back to the majors. He kicked around the Pacific Coast League for the next decade. When he stopped playing ball, he started selling Lincolns in Portland, Ore., taking the record with him into anonymity. A closer look at some history books will say he’s the last ball player to hit .400. While it’s nice to see him get the credit, it’s not entirely true.
There was someone else.
Over the span over 100 years, no one had a higher batting average for the season. Not Williams. Not Wilson. Not the Great Dimaggio or Cobb or Shoeless Joe or Moonlight Graham.
Nobody.
Nobody hit better than Joanne Weaver.
Joltin’ Jo, they called her.
In this case, Debbie Downer equals The Advocate, which recently published a nice piece about the fall of 'mo Halloween events.
Apparently, the EVIL HETEROSEKSHULS are taking over our queer events, including the D.C. Drag Race. I had no idea that Halloween was such a big 'mo event, which: what? I hate not knowing stuff.
Still, there's a nice 'graph on the history of the Drag Race:
Most of these Halloween parties began as a trickle in the ’70s and ’80s, back when gay ghettoization felt practical. D.C.’s High Heel Race was founded by accident 21 years ago when a few guys in drag ran from JR’s, a gay bar on 17th Street, to Annie’s Steak House a few blocks away, did a shot, and ran back. (The race’s present route is the same; JR’s is the unofficial sponsor.)
I've wanted to attend the annual Washington D.C. High Heel Drag Race ever since moving to the area and hearing about it. I mean, who wouldn't? Area drag queens race down 17th St. while wearing (what else would they be wearing?) high heels. And you, spectators, get to watch it all unfold. Drag queens? Check. Running in heels? Check. High probability of drama? Check. I'm THERE. It stars around 7 p.m., but looking at that crowd, it would be best suited to get there a little early. AND Adrian Fenty makes an appearance on the vid, shot last year. ADRIAN!
Goes to:
The L Word season four. It goes on sale tomorrow, and the wifey already pre-ordered, so I'm GOOD. Those lovely, lively, lustworthy ladies are back just in time to watch the entire fourth season before the fifth one begins Jan. 6 on Showtime. My love for Leisha Hailey grows and grows. And who knew she was on "Boy Meets World" so, so, long ago? I'd probably start singing with her and toss a few dollas in that guitar case. But not the take-her-to-lunch part. That wouldn't happen.
My ongoing obsession with TCP (Oh hai, this link is NSFW, unless your work lets you surf queer porn sites) is ... well, ongoing.
There's a new video ("Julie & Michelle"), which makes for a grand total of 8 vids on the sliding scale of OMGNOTHOT to semi-hot. None of this stuff is getoffable for me in the least, so I kind of feel like I'm observing so that I can throw down an anthro paper at a later date.
So, Julie & Michelle. There are tattoos, glasses (!), more pussy slapping (again, what? also, why? Not my pint of Guinness, sorry), a fuckload of fucking fuckmouthing (or "dirty talk", as it's tagged. There was just an awesome line that sounded like, "Oh, fuck! Fucking f ... uck fuck fuck FUCK fuck"), strap-ons, and, blessedly, no fisting. At least not yet.
TBC keeps on keepin' on. Someday, they'll make a video that I'll like, and I will be simultaneously shocked and amazed.
Feministing says that IBTC is some sort of must see, and I still can't get behind that.
Maybe when it opens in theaters on the East Coast (never!)/comes out on DVD, I can watch it again in the company of like-minded folks (instead of watching on my laptop, by myself, while getting increasingly surly about unrelated issues) and feel differently. Until then, I squint suspiciously in your direction, J. Babs ...
Scream Club: subject of this week's probably illegal sampler.
Dirty lyrics, bleep-y noises, spacey vocals, and frequent indie superstar guest stars = one happy music nerd. Since their first album is way tighter than their second, I'm bringing you three tracks from Don't Bite Your Sister.
Also, I'm not sure if SC's Cindy Wonderful and Sarah Adorable started the "Your First Name + Adjective/Noun/Verb" naming trend that everyone and their mama follows now, but I LOVES IT. Should I ever become an indie electro artist, my name is so going to be (ready?) Chris Calculator. Yep.
Tracks:
- "Dead Wrong", featuring rad indie goddess Mirah and king o' indie hip-hop Katastrophe.
- "And You Belong" with another product of the electro nickname generator: Amy Fantastic. Sexxxy lyrics? Yessir! "I wake in the morning/Take off your britches/Dress you like a French maid/And watch you do the dishes."
- "Lonely" has Tara Jane O'Neil on some vocals which makes it the weirdest song EVER. TJO adds a little creepiness to everything she touches.
Ever think it might be because the staff members are douchey frat fucks who think it's rad to replace your desktop background with porn? Ever kind of secretly suspect that maybe Jon Stewart is an insufferable prick? Hey, you were right!
Lauren Weedman (you may remember her as the Blond Correspondent Who Wasn't On For Too Long) has a new book out called A Woman Trapped in a Woman's Body: (Tales from a Life of Cringe), and The Stranger has an excerpt. She makes TDS sound like the SNL offices in the bad old days (which, honestly, those days are probably still going) while simultaneously making herself sound like an unstable ADHD case.
I totally want to have a hundred thousand drinks with her now.
Obama's got a little too much of the Jeebus love to ever come close to getting my vote, but hey ... uh, have you heard about how he's got a kickin' gospel tour in South Carolina? He'll make you straight AND a Democrat AT THE SAME TIME!
That Barack Obama: he's a visionary, I tells ya.
Yet must link to Jennifer Beals on Go Fug Yourself. Seriously, what is she wearing there? She's so much hotter as Bette, huh?
I went to a private school, so there was no Prom for me. There was "banquet," which only the juniors, seniors and oh-those-lucky-sophomores who were asked by older "men" could attend. It consisted of sitting, eating, some singing (c'mon, it was a Baptist private school), more eating, and gossiping. Yeah private school!
I'd always envied my public school friends, who got to go to prom, get a breathalizer before entering the door and dance, dance, dance the night away. Or maybe I'm romanticizing it. Probably. Anyway, I was excited to see this. I've already got a date. You in, tentimesfast? And I hope they play The Butchies "Your Love" because it's a fantastic cover and it would be AWESOME.
It's seems that the pro-choice versus pro-life (or anti-choice) issue has been bleeding all over the news, blogs and inside my pretty little head as of late, and there's a few things I'd like to address.
On Monday, Feministing posted in the Weekly Feminist Reader, a story about the state of abortion rights in the South. Written by Carrie Kilman and posted by In These Times, the story details how Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi and South Carolina sit with women's rights. This is the paragraph that kills me:
"Every state in the Deep South — Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi and South Carolina—restricts low-income women’s access to abortion. Most ban abortion after 12 weeks of pregnancy. None explicitly protect heath care facilities from harassment or violence. All have mandatory delay laws that unfairly burden women who have limited access to transportation and time off work, and Louisiana and South Carolina both passed unconstitutional laws requiring a husband’s consent for a married woman’s abortion. In the past 16 months, two abortion clinics in Alabama have closed, and new regulations are making it difficult for other clinics to stay open. Now, anti-abortion groups are strategizing ways to outlaw birth control and eliminate sex education."
And before I continue, I have a confession. I haven't always been pro-child, pro-choice. I grew up in a Baptist, Republican home where my mom volunteered at Birth Right, the area's center on pro-life dogma. A woman would come into the center, get a free pregnancy test, and if found to be positive, that woman would get counseled on ways to either: Have her child and raise it herself; or give it up for adoption or open-adoption. My mom would march in the March for Life, as would my dad, and both would wear those tiny feet pins. I grew up thinking this was the only way to believe. That women who chose to get an abortion were evil.
Until I got to college. Minnesota State University, Mankato to be exact. (Holla)
College opened my eyes about many, many things. Some of those issues I'll get into on additional blog posts. One very important thing it did open my eyes about was that being pro-choice wasn't about arguing who was right and who was wrong. At it's core, it was fully comprehending what it's like to be in a position where you think you could be pregnant, don't like or don't want the dude in your life, were raped or a variety of other reasons. That isn't what matters. What does matter is that the option of abortion should always be available. Always. Whether you're gay, straight, bi, old, young, blue, red. I'm not asking that you personally believe it's a decision that is right or wrong. I'm asking that it be kept safe, in medical facilities, where it can be done by a doctor, and not in some back alley. My new heroine, Jill Filipovic has written an eery story about Nicaragua. Last November, all abortion was banned. Filipovic writes about the aftermath. Is this something you can image America going through?
Scary times, my friends, scary times.
Afterellen is holding on to the hot butches like whoa:
- Interview with seldom seen Hannah Blilie (The Gossip - say what? There's somebody in The Gossip besides Beth Ditto?)
- Butch Sarah from Afterellen's V-log "The Lo-Down"
I have in my trembling hands an advance copy of "The_Acension." It's OTEP's scary new album, where she sings in a scary voice about scary stuff. Child abuse! Domestic violence ("Home Grown")! Some other stuff I don't understand! Scary, cookie monster voice though! Scary! OTEP might be the devil!
So, quick review: if you've heard one OTEP track, you've actually heard them all. Songs start quietly, possibly with some incoherent muttering about something TRULY TERRIBLE, then ANGER! Screaming! Dude in the background harmonizing! Lyrics about awfulness! Then, intense buildup. More screaming. Mosh pit! Broken noses! Something akin to rap rock ("Confrontation"). Political lyrics? I don't know!
She covers Nirvana's "Breed", which: what? I'm not even sure she can do that justice. It's not half as angry as it should be, and it's just kinda Nirvana cover band-y. Make me wanna punch someone, girl!
For the rest of the disc: all I know is that I get angry as fuck after I listen. "Ghostflowers" ("Vengeanceeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-rawwwwwwwwwwwwrrrrrrrrr") came on while my neighbor was mowing his lawn, and I wanted to go downstairs and wrestle him for his woman.
I'm just saying: OTEP does strange things to you.
Still, new disc does not equal OTEP at her scary best. This is like OTEP on a nice dose of Effexor, where she's all mellow and agreeable and PLEH. There's no "Blood Pigs" here where I can get all rage-y and punch a fucking hole in the wall.
What'd I say about rage? Yeah ...
I swear, I didn't make it up! Actual people with many more degrees than I will ever have use it ON THE REGULAR!
Check this call for papers and snooooooze.
Sarah Dougher (ex-Lookers, Crabs, Cadallaca) just might be the smartest woman in indie rock. She's got a Ph.D. in Comp Lit and lectures in the Women's Studies program at Portland State when she's not creating lovely, lyrically intense queer neo-folk. Plus: breast cancer survivor. How can you not fucking love her?
The Sample
- "No-Handed" with the prettiest little guitar riff running through all of it
- "What She'd Trade" with, well, this : "You will be glad of what you get/ You don't know me yet/ You don't know how I extract/ You can feel my full impact and/ You don't know how I stripped it clean/ You only know you're what I need"
- "She Stood Up" to kill everything in existence via the most articulate, sensitive lyrics about gender ever, ever, ever: "Your physical geography/ It binds and it divides" and "She'll love you as girlish boy/ Or as a mannish girl/ She'll make you remember who you are"
- "O Chenilla" (Cadallaca): Doogs has lead vocals here. Also, organ! Also, lyrics like, "I've seen you around the mall/ I know you out-slut them all."
The Doogs makes music now as part of Sarah D and the SGs. She's still the same, all folksy and wonderful and intriguing. The Doogs refuses to give in to the queer electro phase. Props!
1.) "Real-life couple"
I can't think of anything that will make hott queer porn about 50 times less appealing than those words. I'm just sayin'.
Laura Veirs is so nerdy/foxy. I ... God. My nerdy girl fetish is terrible, son.
Bonus that she mentions Minnesota, Riot Grrrl, Bikini Kill and effing Ani DiFranco within the first minute.
Can I just gently point out that she's playing with legendary indie fuckbags The Decemberists starting on the 9th of November and ending some 3 days later? It's Friday through Sunday ... what better chance to we have to mock hipsters AND see one of the most intensely brilliant lo-fi folk musicians of the last 10 years?
"Femme Mafia DC" turns up nada. My curiosity and interest is, weirdly, not making it happen, pappen.
I'm so into something related to queer/gender stuff happening around here (that isn't all about drag) that I don't even know what to do.
Is it weird that there isn't a Butch Mafia? I know the answer to that, don't say anything.
Ooh, GLAAD has a new ad thing that makes me get gay rage like whoa.
Join us now! White people who are totally all about reinforcing gender norms say that queer people are just like you! SEE! Boys wear suits and girls wear dresses and yay to the gay!
Queer people: exactly like you and in no way different. Queer people: June and motherfucking Ward Cleaver. Queer people: thanks, GLAAD, I totally forgot that I could expect to see people who look like me in an ad from a queer assimilation org.
Sorry, would say more but ... clenching teeth ... so ... hard ... right ... now.
Uh, I forgot that this existed at all. But still, here it is: National Motherfucking Coming Out Day.
Funny story: as 'mo as I was in high school, I knew jack about NCOD until I was a freshman in college. For whatever reason, I had a fuckton of days off around NCOD that year, and I came home from ye olde Hyper Tolerant New England College Town to ye olde Insanely Intolerant Mid-Atlantic Small Town. I was like, super fucking thrilled about NCOD and was crazed about telling someone. So, TARGET: my BFF from childhood onward. I got wicked fucked up and blubbered about NCOD and guess what day it is and I'm a huge 'mo HAHAHAHAHA.
Slightly more funny story: Childhood BFF avoided me for the rest of that night and pretty much for the rest of ever. She didn't return phone calls or emails or whatever. A few years later, my grandmother died really suddenly, and she showed up at the funeral (her grandmother and mine were wicked close) only to avoid me like the GAY was fucking contagious.
Coup De Grace: Couple of years ago, Childhood BFF decided to finally wed the baby daddy of her demon spawn and SENT ME A FUCKING WEDDING INVITATION via my parents, who, stupidly, forwarded it to me. I sent it back with a note that was bitter and bitchy and anti-hetero, enough that my FUCKING MOM somehow heard about it and called to "chat."
Yeah, revenge!
So, er, it's still National Coming Out Day. Maybe things will go better for y'all?
I love me some Jezebel. Love, love, love. It's a nightly read for me because -- and I only realized this recently -- I feel like reading Jezebel is like having the DL on the opinions of 7 zillion (mostly ... I mean, I'm assuming, but c'mon) straight women. Cool, hipster, rad straight women, but straight women nonetheless.
I read an entry tonight about the wimmenz reluctance to allow their menz in the delivery room with them while they are, you know, going forth with what is probably the most painful experience of their lives. Here's the thing: WTF, straight ladies? Y'all don't want yer dude seeing anything below the waist? 'Cause that shit is crazy.
Queer girls -- and again, assumptions LIKE WHOA -- would be all filming documentaries and organizing the sale of hemp sandals to benefit Leonard Peltier while their non-gender-specific partner was giving birth to the kid. Queer girls would be ALL UP IN THE VADGE. There wouldn't be any of this "above the waist" shit, because that would offend the EARTH MOTHER.
Organic potlucks and fundraisers, son. I speak the truth. What gives, fucking straight people? What gives?
It's called the Ex-Members. So clever I could cry!
Bespectacled queer kid and ex-Butchies, ex-Team Dresch drummer Melissa York is kickin' it drum style again, and dear God, is it ever awesome. Ex-Members might be my favorite flavor of queer-ish electropunk this year.
Listen to "Big Black Goodbye" and die a little bit. It's filthy, filthy good: Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Le Tigre, The Gossip and some kind of New Order-ish goodness all rolled into one dance-y, post-punk package.
Yum. Want. Album. Now.
Today: Mirah and Tara Jane O'Neil (plus some TJO from the Rodan days). What's life without little crazy, queer, musical genius in it?
Jesus. I was just looking at the SpotDJ playlist that I'll be posting later, and I saw this "related mix" link. So, clicky-clicky, and what do we have here?
WOW. It is what appears to be a gigantic "I can't believe you left me" mix. It's a fucking whopping 104 songs long. It takes quite a while to upload tracks, so somebody was PISSED, dude.
PISSED.
(It's actually a pretty amazing mix, especially when you consider the fact that someone was probably seething the entire time they were uploading. The whole of it probably took 3 or 4 hours in transfer time. Wow!)
After mentioning the Slant 6 thing for the Jenna Riot vid, I searched on YouTube for Slant 6 and found this (it's just a Slant 6 record playing, no biggie):
And then threw up in my own mouth a little bit over the fucking masturbatory scenester bullshit in the comments. Is this what we've come to? Am I that old?
I swear to christ, this is why I only read Venus these days when it comes to music (ooh, women write about music? Who knew?). I hate the incessant references to some band's old catalog and ex-members and blahblah meowmeow and the "I knew them way back when/ ZOMG the 7" I had when I was 2 years old" thing.
So, by the same token, I apologize for any "Holy fuck, I met soandso in Portland/Pittsburgh/NYC" or whatever that I've ever done. I try really hard not to do it, but at least when I DO get insane and do it, it's in a crazy star-struck manner.
If I've ever been an indienerdDICK, jesus, I'm so sorry. I hate that shit so fucking much. It makes music so inaccessible, and that is really the last thing I want.
I'm so, so, so insanely pro-anything with a beat that inspires passion. I love music so very much, and I want everyone around me to indulge in what I love, too. And fucking awful sad side to it: it's really easy for me to forget how fucking alienating it is to have the NERD jabbering at you about 6,000 years of music history when you've just mentioned a song that you kinda liked that you heard just that once.
ADHD sidebar: I'm thrilled to have a dude friend who loves the music like I do, if only because of this post at Pandagon. He's the only straight guy indie friend I've ever had who isn't a complete douche to me about my taste in music. Indie Dude and I have had these EPIC conversations about albums that span entire evenings. We once sat on his deck and talked about Rodan's Rusty for 8 hours. Indie Dude spent a giant sum of money a few years ago on a plane ticket to Chicago with the hope that I would be able to get off of work to see Tara Jane O'Neil play when he had time off. When I couldn't go, he practically got himself arrested to take some pictures of her and have her sign a copy of Rusty for me. When I turned 28, he got in touch with Kim Coletta (ex-Jawbox) to ask her if she'd sign something for me because she'd signed my shirt at a Jawbox show on my 18th birthday (she remembered it, by the way).
Indie Dude is so radly, awesomely non-indie dude about music with me that it's worth a mention. I've known him for 15 years (*wince*) and never once in that entire time has he managed to invalidate my interest in indie music. He's never been that guy, never assumed that I like something because of someone else, and has never taken his INCREDIBLY SUPERIOR POSITION (he books bands for a club) to mean that he knows more or cares more about music. Uh, even though he totally does.
Good on you, Indie Dude. Somewhere out there, zillions of indie kids -- especially the girls -- wish they had a friend like you.
And Jenna Riot totally sounds like the singer from Slant 6, but with less talent. Just sayin'.
YouTube randomosity:
Jenna Riot (check out "Girl You Look Expensive" by the way) is, uh, playing a butch, I guess? I have no idea what's going on in there, but a.) hot indie femmes abound (exception: one really effing confused looking butch-- raise that glass, son!) and b.) "you don't have to move in with me, you just have to go home with me" is my new favorite thing to say.
And it's a Jenna Riot single! It's like Slant 6 with corny electropop in the background! Man, I loved Slant 6 ...
Possible butch gender violation: I just got a t-shirt with writing on it in silver ... glitter.
It's not that kind of glitter, dammit. But it's sparkly enough that my housemate informed that it looks like a shirt from a low-rent strip club.
Thanks, I <3 Brooklyn Girls. I wanted to show off my appreciation for queer femmes, not actually become one of them by accident.
It'snotthatbad, it'snotthatbad. Whew.
This has absolutely nothing to do with anything queer, except that this particular queer kid digs it. Maybe you will too. And, I'll whistle it to myself the next time all the dudes (and one chick dude) start yammering about Sports.
Nice.
You know how I feel about Dolly. All together now: shut the fuck up, Beth Ditto! Also, no fucking forgetting the fucking words to "I Will Always Love You". Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?
You wanna take it from here, Dolly? Yeah, SON.
Co-parenting: for the win!
Context: conversation with The Ex about pets. The prompt: my statement that having kids instead of pets would probably cut down on, say, my drinking beer and playing video games time (i.e., all of my post-work activity, every single fucking night).
The Ex: God, your future CO-PARENT is going to hate you.
Me: Yeah ... wait. My what?
The Ex: Your CO-PARENT.
Me: Seriously?! My baby mama, right?
The Ex: CO-PARENT.
The Ex is prone to throwing out all sorts of really rad, po-mo vocab, so ... ok. I trust her judgment in these things, but CO-PARENT?
SO SENSITIVE. I have heard the term before, I mean, c'mon, BUT REALLY. This shit is on par with "life partner" in terms of just silly, superfluous SENSITIVITY.
Permission granted for the following: if you know me at the point in my life where I start referring to my baby mama as my co-parent, I say that you can punch me right in the fucking face. Deal?
Bug creeped me out in about 27 different ways, but Ashley Judd and Michael Shannon can sure act the fuck out of two people going mad. While I have a few questions about plot (Lloyd, the son; Dr. Sweet; ex-husband shit) it's the Hopping Lesbian Bar in the first half of the movie that intrigued me. Judd's character, Agnes, works as a waitress there, along with her best (lesbian) friend, R.C. and the two share a few "moments" onscreen, but where on Earth is there nothingness in the middle of Oklahoma and yet, one highly populated Les Bar? Cuz I lives in D.C. and there's only one.
Queer-ish!
Rolling Stone sez they do! Well, one woman, at least ... Carrie Brownstein (ex-Sleater-Kinney) is listed as the 12th most underrated guitarist in, uh, well, music.
Yeah, Carrie! Yeah, queer!
There was a comment from RS that I wanted to replicate, but I couldn't find it among the ZOMG NOW I HAVE A SMALL PEEN BECAUSE A WIMMENZ WAS LISTED HERE comments. Reasons why I don't read mainstream music press in 3 ... 2 ... 1
Here's an Aussie Idol chick covering The Gossip's "Standing In The Way Of Control":
Beth (or "The Gossip", but whatever: Beth) didn't likey so much, seems like. Hey, at least the AI chick managed to keep her va-jay-jay shielded from the prying eyes of the public. I wonder what that's like, huh?
Here's what it sounds like when Va-jay-jay McIndie does it live:
Pleh, I'm over Beth.
I'm live blogging my reactions to "Puccini for Beginners" because HLE already did the hard work by watching an awful movie for reals.
So: once upon a time, there was this director named Maria Maggenti who made a movie called "The Incredibly True Adventures of Two Girls in Love" in which she kind of fleshed out the story of her first 'mo relationship. Hey! Guess what? Maria Maggenti is straight now and watching her insert her personal politics and bullshit into a film isn't nearly as interesting as it was when she was a huge fucking D. SEXUAL FLUIDITY IS A RADICAL CONCEPT THAT MARIA MAGGENTI JUST INVENTED THIS VERY MINUTE, YOU GUYS.
If I make it through 20 minutes, I'll consider it a victory!
7:25: My first impression is that Allegra isn’t hot enough to break anyone’s heart.
7:27: I’m already bored. Too much NYC, not enough establishment.
7:30: Passionless. Kissing. Nice. Also, panties! Stop stopping the action like that.
7:31: Gloria Steinem. Hahaha.
7:32: OH MY GOD RENT CONTROL less than 10 minutes in.
7:35: This feels like Incredibly True ..., except it’s about adults and isn’t as cute
7:37: Assistant professors can be in the midst of finishing their dissertations?
7:38: Gross. The cab thing is gross. Straight people are gross. This is making me surly. I’m about to fast forward.
7:41: Grace and Allegra just met. I’m getting ready to check out mentally here.
7:42: Those are nice wine glasses.
7:45: The fact that they’re smoking in a movie is more interesting than the dialogue
7:47: “Paradigm shift” FUCK OFF. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY EYES ARE BURNING OH FUCK YOU
7:49: This dude is a DICK. Why are they touching each other? Why doesn’t she kick him out?
7:53: Hey, that post-coital scene is pretty much lifted right from "Go Fish".
7:57: Grace: secretly kind of awesome.
8:03: After the stolen car, Grace is officially effing awesome.
8:05: WTF was that? 2 seconds of on screen lovin’? Fuck you, movie.
8:08: Allegra is also a DICK. I mean a DICK, SON.
Hey, this ... sucks! I'm fast forwarding to the end.
Wow, the ending also sucks. "I want a lifetime partner" is my new reason for doing anything stupid that I ever do for the rest of my life.
Assistant professor, my ass.
Ok, in an effort to pimp music more effectively, I am breaking down and using SpotDJ. Thanks for the tipoff on that one, Girl I Used To Date and also AfterEllen!
Today: Rainer Maria sampler. Why? RM has been the soundtrack to several significant romantic successes (also: failures. Fate is cruel like that.) in my life. I'll bet RM is the soundtrack to some indie kid's first awkward same gender makeout session right this very second. On the flipside, it's equally likely that a Northeastern Women's College First Year is sobbing her face off to the lyrics to "Broken Radio" because her girlfriend totally likes dudes now, and it's only fucking October, for fuck's sake.
Shameful side note: "Planetary" literally has a 25 percent chance of making me tear up.
And don't waste your time watching "Puccini For Beginners."
Directed and written by Maria Maggenti ("The Incredibly True Adventure of Two Girls In Love") you'd think you'd be getting some good lesbian action. Not so.
I know, I know, it's bad queer karma to go against the lesbian flow, which, *gasp* is co-produced by LOGO and was praised by afterellen.com, but this particular film lets all parties down in the end. And by end, I mean beginning, middle and end.
Allegra, played by Elizabeth Reaser (the pregnant sister on "The Family Stone") is conflicted. Conflicted about telling her girlfriend of nine months she loves her, which gets the girlfriend upset and consequently g-friend dumps her, and then poor, poor Allegra goes to a party, mostly at the begging her her best (straight) friend and meets Dude. Dude read Allegra's book (let's not get into that part) and tells her so. She FALLS right away. Did I mention she mentions that she's a lesbian a few times and has/had a girlfriend minutes before meeting Dude.
But then, after sleeping with Dude, she meets Gal at a movie. Gal eventually "flirts" enough with Allegra that she falls for Gal, sleeps with Gal, gives Gal good, good lesbian sex and consequently, finds herself in a relationship with both Gal and Dude. Thing is, Gal and Dude were in a relationship themselves, broke up because Dude wouldn't propose to Gal and ironically (see, this is where the hilarity begins) are both dating Allegra. Additionally, Allegra means happy in Spanish. That was a freebie.
I'd love to go into the entanglements that Allegra finds herself in, the way everyone tells her she's conflicted even though the character never quite seems conflicted, and how it is never really mentioned why on earth she falls for such a TOOL, but I'm just so damn tired of watching "lesbian" films where the lesbian isn't really that much of a lesbian. (Aside from "Kissing Jessica Stein," which I LOVE.) I mean, that's why I'm watching the film. For the LESBIANS. *Ahem*
Gah.
Since every other queer blog on earth has already pointed this out, let me add to the chorus of ZOMG THEY ARE SO COOL YOU GUYS:
Cool cover choice, but the vid is so dark that you can barely see their MULLETS.
I'm a bit partial to Sleater-Kinney's cover of "Rock Lobster". Look at those indie kids moving their upper bodies and arms! I am shocked! I'm also shocked that this performance is 10 years old! I'm old!
Er, maybe wives. Three words: queer femme calendar.
I've never made a purchase so fast in my life. I bought the 2007 calendar, the 2008 calendar, a t-shirt in the span of less than a minute. Also, Miss April 2007? I'm in fucking love!
I wonder how long it would take me to find a job in Brooklyn?
Also, it would appear that they held a launch party a few weeks ago. Holy shit.
