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Keep seeing ads on NBC for The Philanthropist, starring one of my TV boyfriends from Rome, and it was so, you know, heartwarming that I retched and wailed until my spouse gently reminded me that actors need to make money too, you know, and one cannot coast on being Marc Antony forever. But it looks like the folks behind Oz and Homicide are involved, so perhaps it will not suck as bad as it looks? Right? Right?
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Like a woman who has applied makeup before hurrying to her first tryst, the world, when it rushes toward us at the moment of our birth, is already made-up, masked, reinterpreted. And the conformists won't be the only ones fooled; the rebel types, eager to stand up against everything and everyone, will not realize how obedient they themselves are; they will rebel only against what is interpreted (pre-interpreted) as worthy of rebellion.

~ Milan Kundera


I've always had this love/hate thing with Milan Kundera. (And he doesn't know it!) In general I am fairly mehabout his writing, but I've always liked his handsome, rugged face: that big nose, those dark, sly eyebrows. He looks like Central Casting's version of "European Novelist." Maybe I should have just posted a photo of him.
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It's always the sex memes that go around--well, like VD, don't they? (And it seems oh-so-appropos that [ profile] cabenson infected me first!) So today we have: If you could choose two people to have sex with--one from the same gender as yourself and one from the opposite gender--who would you choose? Answer, then tag six people. No back-tagging. (I don't know what exactly back-tagging would be except perhaps slapping a "KICK ME NOW" sign on someone's back, and I have no intention of doing that to you, lovely flist.)

Male: Surprisingly, this is a toughie. On the short list were Jude Law, Hugh Jackman, and Jake Gyllenhaal (in cowboy regalia, please...well, let's dress them all up as cowboys! Woo hoo!). [ profile] noir_moll had the brilliant suggestion of Paul Newman circa the 1960s. And damn, that is some vintage manhood right there. But I decided to go with a contemporary British version of the Gorgeous Bastard variety that Mr. Newman represents: Clive Owen. Yes, it was because of those damn BMW films. Stop looking at me like that. And then he completely won my heart when he told Julia Roberts to "fuck off and die" in Closer.

Female: Just one, eh?

The short list: Sigourney Weaver, Patricia Clarkson (it's the voice), Gillian Anderson, Simone Lahbib, Mariska before she went over to the dark side, Renee O'Connor (although Renee and Marish both need a trip to the hair salon), Angie Harmon (maybe with a gag handy in case she starts blathering about the GOP), vintage Liz Taylor (1950s, 1960s), vintage Diana Rigg (1960s, 1970s)...okay, list becoming notsoshort, sorry.

The "winner": I know you all have high hopes for me, you were all expecting me to nominate a woman of impeccable taste, but sadly, I can neither fathom nor explain the strange, powerful hold that Lucy Lawless still exudes over me. I hang my head in shame. Lord knows there are far, far FAR better actresses and frankly La Lawless should be bitchslapping her agent about those stupid "vampire bat" TV movies and let's not even get into that whole Tarzan fiasco, although her Battlestar Galactica role is a small step toward redemption (one hopes). But let's face it: She will always be Xena (for she's better as a brunette), and I will always be mesmerized by those eyes, those thighs.

You're all tagged.
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Long time no blather! But is a week really that long?

I was off work last week, taking a brain holiday that was spent writing, reading, relaxing (Bubble baths! Apertifs!)...and, of course, occasionally surfing the internets. So here is our internets week in review:

1. I heart you, Cindy Sheehan.

2. Lance Armstrong, I thought you had better taste than that.

3. Why was everyone so shocked that Jude Law has what appears to me a...perfectly average, normal-sized penis? Is he supposed to walk around with a foot-long erection all the live long day? But then, it's been a long time since I have been Up Close and Personal with a real-live phallus. Maybe I have low (tiny?) expectations. Straight and bi women, feel free to weigh in. But darn it, it was good enough for the nanny, it should be good enough for everyone else!

4. Jack Chick freaks me the fuck out. I remember seeing these tracts when I was a kid (Bible School, where the highlight of my day was gluing yarn on cans)...and even though they seem...well, insane doesn't even begin to touch it...they nonetheless possess an initial power to shock. They are delivered with such incredible convinction that they have a bizarrely seductive pull. You start wondering, "Maybe I'm wrong! Maybe I am going to hell on a handrail!" Then, after a while of staring at them, you start to think that the little homo demons are kind of cute. And then by the time you hit the death cookies, the giggles set in. Why did the devil have to ruin a perfectly good cookie?

Speaking of cookies, time for lunch.
theholyinnocent: (Default)
Oh, I love to say Thorpedo! I mean, Phelps is great and all, but does he have a cool nickname like that?

Say it with me: Thor. Pee. Do.


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May 2013

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