The Golden Globes were this past Sunday and "Glee" had a few big wins, including acting wins for Jane Lynch and Chris Colfer.
"Glee" is a show that celebrates diversity, even if it sometimes leans towards the stereotypical (don't get me started on the episode that had Mercedes obsessed with tater tots), and it celebrates people getting to be who they are and being accepted for it. Chris Colfer's acceptance speech, much less the moment when his name is announced as the winner, melted my heart.
ADORABLE.
Jane Lynch's speech was perfect.
And the creator, Ryan Murphy, and the writers, along with the cast, accept the award for Best Comedy Series. (Ignore Lea Michele's hideous dress.)
Love it, "Glee". Love the show, love the cast, love the writers. Love it.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Ice Queen.
Johnny Weir came out in his new memoir. No one is surprised.
I mean, seriously, Johnny. If this is the first picture that comes up on a Google image search of your name, you're not really fooling anyone. Especially when you have a show on Logo. Come on.
But I love Johnny Weir. I've loved him since the 2006 Olympics when he was in that sparkly swan outfit. I will never be able to resist a good sparkle. Johnny is a snarky bitch who can back it up with an amazing talent, and for that I love him.
More proof of Johnny's marvelous talent and fabulosity:
I mean, seriously, Johnny. If this is the first picture that comes up on a Google image search of your name, you're not really fooling anyone. Especially when you have a show on Logo. Come on.
But I love Johnny Weir. I've loved him since the 2006 Olympics when he was in that sparkly swan outfit. I will never be able to resist a good sparkle. Johnny is a snarky bitch who can back it up with an amazing talent, and for that I love him.
More proof of Johnny's marvelous talent and fabulosity:
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Consumption junction.
I'm dying. I'm convinced. I am on my deathbed. My throat is swollen and it is making it impossible for me to breathe and when I do breathe I cough and then I sneeze and ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
So yeah, I have a cold. I am not at my most fabulous. This is coming after a wonderful weekend of friends and fun and pirates at the Houston Museum of Natural Science. The pirates had too little eyeliner for my taste, but they had some rockin' pieces of eight. And I touched the shit out of them.
Now that I think of it, the touching at the museum is probably what led me to be in this state. I never should have gone to the children's section of the museum! Children are like walking petri dishes of plague! Curse the enticing dinosaur fossils!
But my feverish mind is causing me to digress.
The point of my story came after the fun and exciting weekend. Three of my friends stayed over for dinner and drinks and hot tub in the abnormally frigid weather, so the next morning, one of my friends went with me to fetch breakfast tacos at a taco shack across town. On our way, we stopped at a CVS to pick up some sodas. We were the only ones in the store, and the sweet little old lady at the register was super chatty.
As she bagged the bottles, I handed them to my friend to carry.
"Oh, I just love that," she said. "Every time couples come in, the guy is always the one who carries the bags!"
"They're not good for much else, am I right?" I replied with a knowing wink, as my friend rolled his eyes.
Ah, the wonderful versatile gay. He can be mentally paired up with anyone, gay or straight. I've passed him off as my boyfriend countless times. And when he goes out with a male friend, people assume that they're a couple. He can pass in any social setting.
But right now, all I care about is someone passing me the Nyquil.
So yeah, I have a cold. I am not at my most fabulous. This is coming after a wonderful weekend of friends and fun and pirates at the Houston Museum of Natural Science. The pirates had too little eyeliner for my taste, but they had some rockin' pieces of eight. And I touched the shit out of them.
Now that I think of it, the touching at the museum is probably what led me to be in this state. I never should have gone to the children's section of the museum! Children are like walking petri dishes of plague! Curse the enticing dinosaur fossils!
But my feverish mind is causing me to digress.
The point of my story came after the fun and exciting weekend. Three of my friends stayed over for dinner and drinks and hot tub in the abnormally frigid weather, so the next morning, one of my friends went with me to fetch breakfast tacos at a taco shack across town. On our way, we stopped at a CVS to pick up some sodas. We were the only ones in the store, and the sweet little old lady at the register was super chatty.
As she bagged the bottles, I handed them to my friend to carry.
"Oh, I just love that," she said. "Every time couples come in, the guy is always the one who carries the bags!"
"They're not good for much else, am I right?" I replied with a knowing wink, as my friend rolled his eyes.
Ah, the wonderful versatile gay. He can be mentally paired up with anyone, gay or straight. I've passed him off as my boyfriend countless times. And when he goes out with a male friend, people assume that they're a couple. He can pass in any social setting.
But right now, all I care about is someone passing me the Nyquil.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
2011.
Happy New Year!
I had both a busy and a relaxing holiday. I've had two weeks off and managed to see a lot of friends and get a semi-permanent couch upholstery pattern on my skin from some much needed lazy time. I love when I catch a Lifetime movie marathon.
As usual, I have my list of resolutions that I have already been hard at work on breaking. Of course, I obviously want to lose 20 pounds. I need to get healthier in general (and hopefully realize that french fries are not a vital part of the food pyramid) so that my mother will stop nagging me. I am also working on not using profanity as much. Unless the situation really calls for it. Which, let's be honest, it usually does.
I also resolve to be fabulous. Of course, that shouldn't be too hard.
I'm excited for this new year. 2010 was pretty good to me. I had a lot of good times with friends and family, I made new friends, I lost some extraneous body parts, I turned 25. But 2011 is turning out to be just as wonderful -- it was rung in with great friends and lots of booze and dancing. Just the way I like it.
I had both a busy and a relaxing holiday. I've had two weeks off and managed to see a lot of friends and get a semi-permanent couch upholstery pattern on my skin from some much needed lazy time. I love when I catch a Lifetime movie marathon.
As usual, I have my list of resolutions that I have already been hard at work on breaking. Of course, I obviously want to lose 20 pounds. I need to get healthier in general (and hopefully realize that french fries are not a vital part of the food pyramid) so that my mother will stop nagging me. I am also working on not using profanity as much. Unless the situation really calls for it. Which, let's be honest, it usually does.
I also resolve to be fabulous. Of course, that shouldn't be too hard.
I'm excited for this new year. 2010 was pretty good to me. I had a lot of good times with friends and family, I made new friends, I lost some extraneous body parts, I turned 25. But 2011 is turning out to be just as wonderful -- it was rung in with great friends and lots of booze and dancing. Just the way I like it.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Shame City.
This is a safe space. And that is the ONLY reason why I am sharing this story.
I would have shared it yesterday, but I was too close to the subject. Also, too embarrassed.
I got really......REALLY.....sloppy on Friday night.
REALLY.
Never again will I be fooled by a gay who gives me a fishbowl-sized glass of red wine, only to find out that it had been purchased at a gas station.
Never again will I drink two glasses of that, only to be followed by a double vodka cranberry.
Never again will I then drink another double vodka cranberry. I have had enough cranberry this weekend to stave off a year's worth of kidney infections.
I will not end the night crying outside of a gay bar because of alternating feelings of I LOVE YOU SO MUCH DO YOU KNOW THAT and OH MY GOD I'M SO FAT.
I should also try not to verbally abuse the only straight guy in our party, especially when he is unearthly pretty.
It would probably also be good if the verbal abuse is not videotaped and then replayed to me the next morning.
And when all of these things have happened, do not put on the pants that still smell like the bar. No good can come of this.
NO GOOD.
Bless you, my dear friends, for putting up with me this weekend. You are angels and will be blessed with lots of chocolate and hottie hot men in heaven.
I would have shared it yesterday, but I was too close to the subject. Also, too embarrassed.
I got really......REALLY.....sloppy on Friday night.
REALLY.
Never again will I be fooled by a gay who gives me a fishbowl-sized glass of red wine, only to find out that it had been purchased at a gas station.
Never again will I drink two glasses of that, only to be followed by a double vodka cranberry.
Never again will I then drink another double vodka cranberry. I have had enough cranberry this weekend to stave off a year's worth of kidney infections.
I will not end the night crying outside of a gay bar because of alternating feelings of I LOVE YOU SO MUCH DO YOU KNOW THAT and OH MY GOD I'M SO FAT.
I should also try not to verbally abuse the only straight guy in our party, especially when he is unearthly pretty.
It would probably also be good if the verbal abuse is not videotaped and then replayed to me the next morning.
And when all of these things have happened, do not put on the pants that still smell like the bar. No good can come of this.
NO GOOD.
Bless you, my dear friends, for putting up with me this weekend. You are angels and will be blessed with lots of chocolate and hottie hot men in heaven.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Hold the phone!
To be filed under "things you never thought you'd hear someone say" : "I don't care if he's afraid of my penis!"
To be filed under "things you never want to hear after you've heard someone say that" : "Oh, I haven't told you that story? Well, I'll have to tell you later, I have to go now."
That is the horrible thing about phone calls. Many a good shit-talking session has been ruined by, "oh, someone just walked in the door, I have to go," or "oh, I just got to where I was driving, I have to go," or, "oh, one of the kids I'm babysitting is bleeding from the head, I have to go." SO annoying.
Luckily, I complained enough about the injustice of being deprived such a promising hilarious story that he called the next day to tell me the details. It involved a passionate night in the bedroom that was a bit too voracious for the receiving participant, who maybe needed an ice pack afterward. Apparently that led to complaints to his best friend, who then told my friend about the concerns. Needless to say, it was a conversation that left my friend very self-assured about any and all aspects of his penis. When he was telling me the story there were a lot of math terms, and I sort of zone out whenever anything involving measurements or numbers becomes involved. I'm not a carpenter, boys.
Moral of the story -- leave cliffhangers for JJ Abrams shows. They have no place in phone conversations. I had enough mindfuckery while I was trying to keep track of Lost, thank you very much, and I do not appreciate any more.
To be filed under "things you never want to hear after you've heard someone say that" : "Oh, I haven't told you that story? Well, I'll have to tell you later, I have to go now."
That is the horrible thing about phone calls. Many a good shit-talking session has been ruined by, "oh, someone just walked in the door, I have to go," or "oh, I just got to where I was driving, I have to go," or, "oh, one of the kids I'm babysitting is bleeding from the head, I have to go." SO annoying.
Luckily, I complained enough about the injustice of being deprived such a promising hilarious story that he called the next day to tell me the details. It involved a passionate night in the bedroom that was a bit too voracious for the receiving participant, who maybe needed an ice pack afterward. Apparently that led to complaints to his best friend, who then told my friend about the concerns. Needless to say, it was a conversation that left my friend very self-assured about any and all aspects of his penis. When he was telling me the story there were a lot of math terms, and I sort of zone out whenever anything involving measurements or numbers becomes involved. I'm not a carpenter, boys.
Moral of the story -- leave cliffhangers for JJ Abrams shows. They have no place in phone conversations. I had enough mindfuckery while I was trying to keep track of Lost, thank you very much, and I do not appreciate any more.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Too close.... a little too close.
You know that you are in a comfortable and close relationship with someone when they are comfortable enough to use the bathroom while they're talking on the phone with you. And then they tell you about it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
