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Thursday, February 28, 2002
The boyfriend seems to be having trouble with nude photo hounds--not nude people looking for photos, mind you, but presumably clothed or partially clothed individuals looking for photos of naked folks.
Now, although don't find him terribly attractive myself, I can understand why some people might like to see Apolo Anton Ohno nude. I find it interesting, however, that virtual hordes of smutchasers are looking for boudoir photographs of Ross the Intern--not that he's a perfectly talented individual, of course, but he seems a little...offbeat. What next? Nude photos of Larry "Bud" Melman? Bill Gates? Lady Bird Johnson? Or perhaps my own personal favorite, Benjamin Netanyahu....
In other news: thanks to the many folks who submitted votes for the title of our next play. I think, however, that we're leaning towards one that Flynn suggested: Die, Die, Dixie Darlin'. It has a certain ring to it... Yes? No? I dunno...
Wednesday, February 27, 2002
 Confirmed as of one hour ago: she's coming. Here. April 17th. Woo-hoo. Just goes to show what a well-timed comment to a forward-thinking club owner can do for ya.
Tuesday, February 26, 2002
Five Haiku for a Winter Day
If I read one more
self-reflexive blogging rant,
I'll strangle your dog.
Sometimes it is better
to stay silent than to
open your piehole.
No sense of humor
in a person is enough
to warrant murder.
The butterfly is
beautiful, but you make me
want to vomit blood.
Jesus fucking Christ,
it's cold in here. Who left the
goddamn window up?
Friday, February 22, 2002
Believe it or not, today's secret word is:
throttlebottom
which could be (1) a purposeless incompetent in public office, or (2) the title character of a new film from Falcon Studios. Frankly, I know a couple of folks who fit both bills...
The scariest thing about Dragonfly is Linda Hunt playing a nun for one scene.
--CNN
That's good enough to get my ass to the multiplex.
Thursday, February 21, 2002
So, we're writing our next play. I think I've mentioned it before: it's a parody of girls' school flicks that we've based on an obscure Clint Eastwood film called The Beguiled. Basically, it's Reform School Girls set at Ashland-Belle Helene (which, incidentally, is where The Beguiled was filmed).
Anyway, we're trying to decide on a name. It should probably have kind of a "pulp" feel, but I dunno. Here's what we've come up with so far:
Confederacy of Dames
Confederate Hellcats
Confederate Jasmine
Dixie Darlings
Little Dixie Darlings
Mason-Dixon Dolls
Pussy-footing Down at the Old Plantation
I'm not being silly with that last one--it was the original title of the Eastwood film. For real.
So, what do you think? Anything stand out? Or have you got a better idea? Lemme know.
TEN THINGS I HATE TODAY
1. Bad art
2. Bad artists
3. Whiny, overstressed, passive-aggressive micromanagers (this means you!)
4. Helplessness
5. Cluelessness
6. Fat-free cream cheese
7. Ryan Phillippe (see #2 above)
8. Agents (see #3 above)
9. Docents
10. Classical musicians (cellists excluded)
I also hate limiting myself to hating only ten things.
Hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate infinity.
Sunday, February 17, 2002
FOUR PHRASES YOU'LL NEVER HEAR
"Sarah Michelle Gellar's stellar turn in the title role of Hedda Gabler was marred only by Emily Watson's ham-fisted portrayal of Julie, the maid."
"Ladies and gentlemen, the People's Choice Award for Outstanding Rock, Pop, Jazz, R&B, Gospel, Rap, or Klezmer Group of the 20th Century goes to...Genesis!"
"In her latest nonfiction endeavor, Divine Mechanics, Anne Rice explores the ultimate demise of Chaos Theory and academia's surprisingly conservative return to 'purist' Quantum Mechanics."
"...and Fyvush Finkel as...'The Beaver.'"
In other news, some of you folks take this stuff way too seriously.
Thursday, February 14, 2002
 Ooh. Pics.
Monday, February 11, 2002
Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Woman spouts trite cliches for family friend under fire! Sings chorus to The Pretenders "I'll Stand By You" before confused crowd of diplomats and heads of state!
Saturday, February 09, 2002
When Mardi Gras falls in early February--as does this year--it's sometimes hard to get into the spirit of things. I mean, we're still cleaning up the house from Christmas and New Year's, and Superbowl threw the parade schedule off... It just doesn't seem like Carnival. With any luck, though, getting dolled up for tonight's Society of St. Ann Ball ought to bring me around. Too bad some of you won't be around to enjoy it with us. We'll try to take pictures...
That's it, really. I'm trying to kill time at my computer 'till you know who wakes up and I can start making noise and getting ready.
Oh, one other thing: it seems we're going to have a bloody mary breakfast party on Tuesday morning. If you're in the neighborhood, drop by around 10am.
In other news: Caleb Carr is a whiny twit.
Wednesday, February 06, 2002
Nude! Nude! Nude! Sodomites!
"I have grown significantly, both personally and professionally, after nearly a decade of raising a family and exploring my craft. I view my appearance in Playboy as the first step in presenting myself to the world as I am."
-- Tiffany
Tuesday, February 05, 2002
AN AXIS OF EVIL
  
Sunday, February 03, 2002
Right now, at this very moment, someone somewhere is watching Lethal Weapon 3.
That's not a premonition, it's not a hunch. It's a fact. And it is mildly disturbing.
Zen exercise for the day: unearthing pearls of wisdom through anagrams. Apparently, boyfriend is merely another way of saying forbid yen, and sturtle is barely veiled code for let's rut.
Whoa.
Deep.
[ This message brought to you via one of my favorite poets and the current meatspace edition of a certain magazine--which, coincidentally, features some snazzy artwork from one of our own. ]
Saturday, February 02, 2002
Mardi Gras/Superbowl Weekend To-Do List, or
My Dance Card is Suddenly Full
Saturday, 10am: Vote.
Attire: sweats (thinking ahead to Saturday, 10:30am).
Saturday, 10:30am: Hit the gym.
Attire: see Saturday, 10:00am above.
Note: Yes, people actually go there to work out.
Saturday, afternoon: Straighten up the house for next week's visitor.
Attire: Tignon, white linen top, burlap skirt held on by length of frayed rope.
Saturday, 6:00pm: Traipse over to the Radical Faerie ball.
Attire: Clothing-optional, but highly glittery displays are encouraged--especially those celebrating everyone's favorite milkmaid--and the party's namesake--Saint Bridget (although, given the day, this year's event should rightly be devoted to the often-overlooked Saint John Neumann).
Saturday, 10:00pm: Stumble to the Shim Sham Club to catch a real rock show.
Attire: See Saturday, 6:00pm above. Once I get gussied up, I ain't changin'.
Sunday, 10:30am: Hit the gym again.
Attire: see Saturday, 10:30am above
Note: I'm not a gymfreek. These are simply the only two days of the week I have time to go. So there.
Sunday, 1:00pm: Light a candle to Saint Dismas for Winona.
Attire: Stolen t-shirt, hot pants.
Sunday, afternoon: Straighten up some more for next week's visitor.
Attire: see Saturday, afternoon above.
Sunday, 6:00pm: Schlep over to the Petronius Ball.
Attire: Black tie or fancy dress or anything I can squeeze my fat ass into that's going to be comfortable for the three hours I have to sit and watch drunken queens parade in sequins and set themselves on fire.
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