blood on my teeth

7.27.2005

I might have to rethink the Michael hatred

Yes, that is Queer as Folk star Hal Sparks and my friend Clint throwing up an "A" and "M" just for little old me! How fucking cool are my friends??

Thanks Clint!

Labels: Men We Love

annamaria at 7:28 AM

7.25.2005

I refuse to sing the birthday song

As I said before, Saturday was Jen's birthday, and I've decided that something major needs to be done in celebration. When I think of Jen, one word comes to mind: ~~bitch~~ music; so what better way to pay homage to our friend than to give the gift of music.

I made Jen two CDs for her birthday, and dear readers, I'm willing to send copies of these fabulous mixes to you as well! Some might argue that by giving these CDs to all sorts of other people, I'm diminishing the importance of Jen's birthday gift, but to that I say: "Jen, stop being such a selfish bitch! We need to share the love!" So, everyone who emails me with the correct answer to the following question will receive a complimentary copy of Jen's Birthday Mix, Vols. 1 & 2:

I have been trying in vain for nearly a year to convince Jen that a particular band will save rock n' roll. Name that band!

I'm so nice, I'll even give you a hint: look in the blood on my teeth archives, and you'll find the answer.

Remember to include your home address in the email so that I can send a copy of the CD to you via the fabulous US Postal Service (you didn't really think I was going to pay for FedEx, did you?).

annamaria at 3:19 PM

QAF 511: We're all Stepford Fags now

Well, it seems nothing brings out the love like a little death and destruction. Brian and Justin are on their way to Stepford Fagdom, and Melanie and Lindsay are headed for part three of their relationship. It’s a beautiful day on Liberty Avenue…assuming you’re willing to overlook the bombed-out shell formerly known as Babylon.

The episode begins somewhere other than Babylon, and we QAF fans know what that means—it’s either a flashback or a fantasy sequence. Christ, they’re predictable! Anyway, Brian walks into a church dressed in Prada black…could it be? Will Annamaria and Jen be happy girls, and witness wittle Mikey’s funeral?? Alas, no. Brian steps up to the casket and sees himself, dressed in more Prada black. He wakes up at the erstwhile Babylon, and Ted and Detective Carl inform him (and, ostensibly, the viewing audience) that this was no random act of carnage—the Anti-Stop Prop 14 crowd (meaning the Pro-Prop 14 crowd…did you get that?) have planted a bomb! Oh dear! I would have been shocked and surprised had it not been so fucking obvious that a bomb exploded the place last week. Um, were there actually people out there that thought otherwise?

Apparently, even Brian (who, you’ll remember nearly offed himself in season one in search of the ultimate, scarfing-induced orgasm) is afraid of death. So afraid, that he’s willing to give up everything that makes him unique, fabulous, and, well, Brian. So, he visits Justin at his ~~crack house~~ studio, and proposes. Actually, this scene had me cracking up. Justin is painting and doing his best to look everywhere but at Brian, and Brian’s got this goofy grin on his face like Justin’s just the cutest thing he’s ever seen. I mean, did you all see his face when he asked if Justin heard him say “I love you” the night before? It was like he was so proud of himself for finally saying the words, and needed confirmation that the object of his affection actually noticed. So, Justin turns him down, and Brian stamps his feet like a petulant child, and Annamaria really regrets ever wanting these two to get married because lovey-dovey Brian is actually kind of annoying!

Brian continues to sulk because his one true love won’t marry him. Enter Jennifer. Ah, how I love Jennifer. She’s really handy when people want to sell property in order to prove some kind of point. Brian lists the loft and casually mentions that he proposed to her son and said son rejected him. At this point, Jennifer has the greatest facial expression I’ve ever seen—it’s the intersection of relief, regret and complete confusion. And then you understand where Justin gets his avoidance techniques, because she looks everywhere but at Brian, and tries to process the fact that Brian…Brian…was very nearly her son-in-law. At last, regret wins out, and she seems honestly saddened that her son is a stupid twat, and won’t marry the man of his dreams.

So, why was Brian selling the loft? Well, he needed the money to buy Justin his dream home in the country, of course! See what I mean? This Brian is weird! He takes Justin to their new home and delivers the sappiest, schmoopiest lines ever, and somehow this is enough to let Justin know that Brian is actually serious about this love and marriage shit, and he finally agrees to marry him. Ugh…this whole episode played like a Jane Austen novel! For fuck’s sake, can’t you see that Mr. ~~Darcy~~ Kinney has changed?

So, what happened with the characters that aren’t Brian and Justin (ah, it’s so good to be able to say that again!):

Hunter returns! Apparently, he was at Disney World—he got a job as a cartoon mascot at the park. How funny is it that he was Dopey? After a very serious conversation with Debbie, he realizes that his place is in Pittsburgh with Ben and Michael, and he decides to give up his lucrative career as a dwarf for the comforts of home and family.

Speaking of Michael, he survived. Damn.

Ben and the others attend a vigil to honor those who were killed or injured at the Babylon Blast. It’s all very touching, what with all the tears and candles, until the Hate Brigade shows up and informs everyone that Michael and all the others will go to Hell for being fags. If you don't mind, I going to digress for a second here:

Annamaria’s Open Letter to Hate-Mongers.

Dear Hate Mongers,

You have the right to hate. I could hardly begrudge you that right, since I exercise it daily as concerns you. But, why do you protest at funerals and vigils? Do you really think this advances your cause? It really only makes you look like a bunch of pricks. I mean, I thought Reagan was a bastard and a motherfucker, but you didn’t see me traipsing up to your little Pro-Ronnie circle jerks to remind you that the poor man was most likely in a circle of Hell that even Dante couldn’t imagine. No, I sat in my own home, watching you wax poetic about the Gipper, and laughed at your pathetic asses. Could you kindly do the same, and leave the poor families of people murdered by assholes like you alone?

Respectfully,
Me

So, Ben ignores the mulitude of health-risks involved with swapping blood with fundies*, and kicks the shit out of Hate Monger #1. A free for all ensues, and even Emmett manages to get in on the action. Brian and I wonder if this means that we have to stop calling Mr. Bruckner "Zen Ben," and he acts shocked that we would call him that in the first place.

Ted and Emmett have problems dealing the bombing. Ted blames himself for Michael's injuries, surmising that had he not brought Mr. OCD to the benefit, and had Mr. OCD not hyperventilated and needed water, Michael would still have his spleen. Fortunately for Teddy, Mr. Bathhouse Psychologist is there to remind him that no one is to blame but the Haters. Emmett, meanwhile, locks himself in the house and watches old Barbara Stanwyck movies for fear that if he ever stops watching Double Indemnity he'll die...or something like that.

Melanie and Lindsay decide to give married life another go, and we all breathe a sigh of relief. Okay, maybe not. Did anyone actually care about Mel and Linds this week?

So, kids, overall a fun episode. I fear that having heard Brian say "I love you" last week might make the rest of the season seem anti-climactic, but at least I can still wait for Blake to show up, right?

------------------
*Haha! You thought I was going to comment on Ben's HIV status, didn't you?

Labels: QAF

annamaria at 12:28 PM

My dog is better than your dog.

Anonymous at 11:29 AM

Happy (Belated) Birthday, Jen!

Jen's birthday was Saturday, but as I was suffering from heat stroke this weekend, I didn't have a chance to post. Seriously, y'all, I think I'm allergic to the sun. A few weeks ago, I took my nieces to the beach, and managed to get severely sun-burned and queasy after about a half-hour in the sun. Then on Saturday Jay, Tom and I went to the Beer Fest, and after one three-ounce beer (St. Brigid's Oatmeal Stout from the Detroit Beer Company--yum!), and less than an hour in the sun, I managed to pass out and spend the rest of the afternoon drinking water by the gallon and making friends with the Ypsilanti Police, who were kind enough to let me sit in the front of their squad car and soak up the A/C. Yeah, heat exhaustion sucks. So does being the whitest white girl in Detroit.

Anyway, I was planning on a magnificent Happy Birthday, Jen! post, but didn't have the chance. I'll make sure to write that (and a QAF recap) very soon. In the meantime, if anyone has any aloe they can send my way, my usually alabaster skin would appreciate it.

annamaria at 7:21 AM

7.22.2005

Do I need to define irony?

When I said (twice) this week that I support the Patriot Act, I was only kidding!

The House voted to extend indefinitely the anti-terrorist USA Patriot Act, while limiting to 10 years two provisions of the law that have become linchpins in the ongoing congressional debate: allowing federal agents to use roving wiretaps and to search library and medical records.

By a 257-171 margin, lawmakers who earlier Thursday had watched reports of attempted terrorist bombings in London, agreed to renew key provisions of the Patriot Act that were set to expire at the end of this year.

Yeah, thanks London! You might be the most heavily surveiled people on earth, but I bet no one's going through your library and medical records.

Then again, I didn't think London cops carried guns...what do I know?

annamaria at 8:52 AM

Friday Random Ten

Is there anyone in the world cuter than Tanya Donnelly??

So, I've noticed that all of my posts this week have been really depressing. Sorry about that. I think it's because after two weeks of doing absolutely nothing productive, I had to go back to work on Monday. Sometimes I wish my parents had been better parents, and provided me with a phenomenal trust fund so that I could live in Paris or Prague or some other fabulous city that begins with 'P' and never have to work. Unfortunately, my parents were only mediocre parents, and merely gave me enough money to go to college and use my stupid degree to get a stupid job. Stupid parents.*

But enough complaining, it's Friday! Time for the Friday Random Ten, what's with the Pointer Sisters being on my list? edition:

#1 Must Have - Sleater Kinney
Punk Rock Girl - Dead Milkmen
One Way or Another - Blondie
So Long, Superman - Firewater
Strange Eyes - The Magnetic Fields
Jump - The Pointer Sisters
Clubland - Elvis Costello & The Attractions
St. Monday - Billy Bragg & The Blokes
Hidden Shame - Johnny Cash
Whiskey Tango - Tanya Donnelly

Your turn!

----------------------
* Just kidding, Mom & Papa!

Labels: FRT

annamaria at 7:15 AM

Small blasts hit London transport

7.21.2005

Seriously. Again?

Seems that there have been more explosions on London's public transportation system. However they appear to have been much smaller. Hard to tell with the U.S. coverage, though. We're more concerned that there is "terror" than the injured. For some reason, we don't humanize acts of destruction and terrorism unless they happen on our own soil.

It's because we are isolationist assholes.

Rich, you are there. Sort of. At least closer than we are. Let's hear a report.

Anonymous at 10:55 AM

5 spoke

Can you cut it out now, please?

Three small devices have exploded at three separate Underground subway stations in London, two weeks after the July 7 terror attacks, police said.

Police said the small blasts happened at Warren Street, Oval and Shepherd's Bush stations.

Transport Police told ITN there was an injury when a device exploded on an Underground train near the Warren Street station, in the center of the capital. There are no other reports of casualties.

I don't have anything to add to this; I'm still pretty shocked. I know that Londoners were feeling, of all things, an overwhelming sense of relief two weeks ago--as if they understood that it was only a matter of time before they were attacked, and they were grateful that it wasn't as bad as it could have been. I can't even imagine feeling like that, but I'm Sicilian--we feel things! I lack that classic British reserve.

For all the people that called me two weeks ago, I can assure you that Rich is fine. I haven't talked to him since Tuesday evening, but I know he's fine. Stop worrying. Here, I'll even offer proof that he's fine:

Find the Irish Sea. Look the right. See Liverpool? That's where Rich is.

Now find the English Channel. Look up. See London? See how far it is from Liverpool?

Rich, write something in the comments that let them know that you're fine.

annamaria at 9:46 AM

7.20.2005

Speechless

A few years ago I worked with a woman, I'll call her Mary, who was terrified that her two-year-old son was gay. Her reasons? He liked to play with dolls. He had this one doll in particular, it had eyes that would open and close when you tilted the head back and forth. No matter what Mary did, how many new trucks and footballs she bought, her son refused to part with his doll. So Mary did what any good mother would do--she waited until her son was asleep, poked the doll's eyes out with a knife, and in the morning sadly informed her son that the doll was broken and needed to be thrown away. I've known more than a few gender-phobic people in my time, but Mary tops the list.

Back in February, I blogged about Maine State Rep. Brian Duprey, who introduced legislation that would prohibit women from obtaining abortions if their fetus is gay. At the time, I joked about the logistics of this, considering medical science has yet to identify or isolate a single gene that determines sexual idenity. I mocked Rep. Duprey for getting the idea while listening to the Rush Limbaugh Show. Later, I mused about the cognitive dissonance involved--after all, usually those people who so vociferously oppose homosexuality that they would refuse to give birth to a gay child are also those that just as vociferously oppose abortion rights. Lots of laughter ensued, and I felt better knowing that the Right must be seriously out of touch with reality if they have spokespeople like Brian Duprey.

I'm not laughing anymore.

A 21 year old Tampa man is charged with murder after his 3-year old son was pummeled into unconsciousness and then died.

Ronnie Paris Jr. went on trial for his own life this week in a Tampa courtroom. The toddler's mother, Nysheerah Paris, testified that her husband thought the boy might be gay and would force him to box.

Nysheerah Paris told the court that Paris would make the boy fight with him, slapping the child in the head until he cried or wet himself. She said that on one occasion Paris slammed the child against a wall because he was vomiting.

Mary's doll-murder seems a little less disturbing to me now. And Rep. Duprey officially scares the shit out of me; why abort your gay babies when you can slam them against a wall and then pummel them until they die?

Both Ronnie and Nysheerah Paris are being charged in response to their son's death, but frankly, that's not enough for me. Not when the article continues to say:

The court was told there had been a history of abuse by Paris. Prosecutor Jalal Harb said that in 2002, the Florida Department of Children & Families placed the child in protective custody after he had been admitted to the hospital several times for vomiting.

He was returned to his parents Dec. 14. A month later he went into a coma and was rushed to hospital. Six days later he was removed from life support and died. An autopsy showed there was swelling on both sides of his brain.

Why the fuck was that child returned to his parents? And when can I expect to see Jeb Bush fire every single employee of the Florida Department of Children & Families who so much as looked at this little boy's file? After all, sending a child home to an abusive family to die a horrible death doesn't go very far in protecting Bush's culture of life.

Labels: LGBT

annamaria at 11:41 AM

7.19.2005

Annamaria continues to support the Patriot Act

Again, not really. But Ian's comment on my last post reminded me of this quote from Pat Robertson:

Can I show Pat my healthy middle finger, too?

"Don't you feel it rather interesting that every time you have a story about terrorism, it is linked to Muslim extremists? You don't hear somebody, 'Christian extremist killing film producers, Christian extremists blowing up trains.' It just doesn't happen. But it's Muslim extremists and, ladies and gentlemen, Islam, at least at its core, teaches violence. It's there in the Quran in clear, bold statements."

Well, in Pat's defense, it is true that I've never heard someone accuse Christian extremists of killing film producers or blowing up trains. It's easy to make statements like that when you're so specific, Pat. But what about, oh, abortion clinics? Or does that not count as violence or terrorism because it's all in the name of saving blastocysts?

According to Religious Tolerance.org*, in 2004 there were 2 incidents arsons/bombings and/or attempted arsons/bombings, 40 incidents of invasion, assault & battery, vandalism, trespassing, death threats, burglary, and/or stalking, and 130 incidents of hate mail, harassing phone calls, and/or bomb threats directed at abortion clinics in America and Canada**. Since 1982, there have been 554 incidents of anthrax hoaxes aimed at women's health clinics.

Last I checked, sending anthrax (or even a powdery susbtance meant to resemble anthrax) though the mail got you a stint at Gitmo...if you're Muslim, that is. I must have missed the Disaffected White Christian Males Get Out of Jail Free clause of the Patriot Act.

But it wouldn't be fair of me, would it Pat, to say that because Christian extremists have been responsible for thousands of acts of terror against women and doctors over the past 30 years that all Christians are terrorists. Or that Christianity and the Bible preach hatred and violence. As you said on The 700 Club, "[I]t's radical clerics who incite this kind of violence, and it's time we recognize it and begin to deal with it." I couldn't agree more.

----------------------

* Check out this article. Now. You get to read about how the KKK protested outside a clinic for daring to perform abortions on white women.
** Canada? Clinic violence in Canada? Fuck.

annamaria at 1:20 PM

Seriously. My new favorite blog. Ever.

Feel guilty about stealing the music? Check out 3hive.

They generally do one post a day featuring full-length MP3s from artists and labels' web sites. You can also search by artist/genre/label/etc. It kicks my own ass -- and makes my iPod very happy for the fresh meat.

Great way to check out new music. And not be sent to prison by that fuckwad from Metallica.

Anonymous at 11:37 AM

0 spoke

Annamaria shows her support for the Patriot Act

Okay, not really. But if anyone is a terrorist, it's this guy:

U.S. District Judge Lynwood Smith in Birmingham sentenced [Eric] Rudolph to two consecutive life terms without parole in connection with the January 1998 bombing of the New Woman All Women clinic, which performs abortions.

[...]

Rudolph, 38, avoided the death penalty by pleading guilty in April to the Birmingham bombing and three other attacks in the South between 1996 and 1998, including the blast at the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta, Georgia. In all, two people were killed and more than 100 injured.

According to Rudolph, the bombings were a protest against abortion and "the homosexual agenda." Which, of course, explains the bombings at the Olympics...I guess. Male figure skaters?

Emily Lyons, a nurse who was injured in the bombing, testified at Rudolph's sentencing. Lyons gets my vote for quote of the year:

"The joint in my middle finger had to be fused, and it is indeed an injury I have longed to show you."

In solidarity with Ms. Lyons, I'm even willing to show my perfectly healthy middle finger to Mr. Rudolph. Anyone else care to join me?

annamaria at 9:51 AM

7.18.2005

QAF 510: Three little words.

Lauper's lipsync sucked.

Oh, you thought I was going to talk about three other little words?

Like how Brian f'ing Kinney told Justin that he loves the little brat, despite his not recognizing all the signs of love prior to that point?

Le's start from the beginning though, shall we?

Most of the talk is about this fag-tastisc benefit that will be put on to raise dollars to support the "No on Prop-14" crowd. However, the gay-hater pressure is taking over the town. Pittsburgh has started to install straight and gay drinking fountains. Gays have to sit at the back of the bus. No gays eating at the lunch counter.

And they aren't allowed to hold a benefit at any venue in the entire city – except Babylon.

Bet you can't guess what happens next, and who they send as an ambassador to get Kinney to rent the gang the place. Of course. Michael. Who is still acting the role of the huge douche bag. I wish he would die. More on that later, though. For now:

I FUCKING HATE MICHAEL
So, of course, Brian Kinney lends the helping hand that anti-Prop-14 needs. With no thanks, as usual. Ben suggests getting him something, and of course Michael says no. I wish he would just die. How many times must Brian save the gay population of Pittsburgh? Can we all say Concerned Citizens for Truth?

Doesn't matter though, because Brian is cancer free! And he tells Teddie, of course, who proceeds to give him a big huge hug that Brian, for once, doesn't look like he wants to pull away from.

Ted is a good friend. I just wish that his search for a man would be successful. I was expecting to see Blake on the pages of the online dating service. Every damn week I am expecting for them to have Blake come back. And did anyone else think for a brief second that Brian was going to ask Ted to Australia too?

So. Babylon. I've already discussed the horrible lipsyncing performance. And then there is the explosion, which happens in the form of a giant, low-budget ball of light. Scary! I'm assuming that Dusty dies, as she was standing right next to Michael. As would have Lindsay, had she gone in without Melanie. Emmitt, however, who is standing fairly close to this crowd, comes out remarkably sparkly and unscathed. Michael is seriously injured and may not pull through (!).

I know, I know. I'm supposed to be terribly sad because of this news. But I'm not. I'm happy. I’m a bad, bad person.

And were they going to clean Michael up before his emergency surgery, because something tells me all that dirt and soot could lead to infection.

But you know what makes me cry in this show? And it's not Michael. Brian finally telling Justin that he loves him – and several times to boot. Ready for cheesiness? It's like the bombing of Babylon didn't just bring down the walls of the club; it also brought down Brian's emotional walls as well. His fear of relationships. In those few minutes when he thought he would never see Justin again -- ever -- he realized what he would be missing if he lived a life without Justin.

There's a lot of other stuff going on (Drew/Emmitt fight, make up after explosion; Mel/Linds decide the weird/fucked up sex from the other night was a mistake, Mel realizes that she still loves Linds, Linds meets with Jennifer to sell the house, explosion brings Mel and Linds back together forever; Jennifer and Tucker the Mommy Fucker attend the benefit, Justin is unhappy, Jen/Tuck cuddle outside the bombed out while Justin is still missing?). But who really cares? Brian loves Justin!

And I'm so glad they brought up the blood issue. Not that Brian would have been able to donate because of his cancer (which I was thinking from the first second that he offered up his blood), but had he been in good health and not recovering from cancer, what's up with not allowing gay men to not donate blood if they've had sex since 1975? But a man can fuck a crackwhore without a condom all he wants and it's all gravy. As long as he is a man and she is a woman, no questions asked.

It's funny. Annamaria and I were talking about this the last time she was in town, since we both have trouble giving blood in the first place. You'll have to post in the comments to tell the exact story, but Annamaria told me about some sort of conversation with a Red Cross worker about "those" people and changing what "they" do in order to donate blood – but in reality it wouldn't matter anyway. They still fucked guys since '75.

Okay. End of off-topic rant.

I'm going to go crazy waiting for next week's episode. I need to know what happens with all the love. Who is left to wrap up? Michael has to die (not likely, but I wish), Justin/Brian have to work things out, and Ted has to figure out something.

Just don't watch the preview scenes on sho.com, because they will wreck it for you. I promise.

Need something to get you through to next week? Find QAF quizes online here.

Labels: QAF

Anonymous at 11:58 AM

7.15.2005

In honor of Harry...

I'm a Gryffindor

What are you?

Anonymous at 4:22 PM

5 spoke

Friday Random Ten

I couldn't bring myself to include an actual picture of Adam Ant

Alright, people, I managed to drag my ass out of bed at a somewhat decent hour so that I could get the Friday Random Ten up. I hope you all appreciate the sacrifices I'm willing to make for you!

My vacation is almost over, and I wish I could tell you that I spent the past two weeks doing all manner of fabulous things. Really, Jen and I spent a few days in Chicago watching movies and smoking far too many clove cigarettes. And when I returned to Detroit, I substituted my 13 and 11-year-old nieces for Jen, and twizzlers for cigarettes. Overall, it's been a fantastic vacation! :)

Without further delay, ladies and gents, here's your Friday Random Ten, I Don't Want to Go Back to Work Edition:

Pencil Skirt - Pulp
Dog Eat Dog - Adam & The Ants
Silenci - The Walkabouts
My Daughters Like to Drink - Fuck Bush w/MC Lars
Don't Panic - Coldplay
Walk This Way - Run DMC & Aerosmith
On the Bus Mall - The Decemberists
Love Rollercoaster - The Ohio Players
I Can't Stand Up For Falling Down - Elvis Costello & The Attractions
DUI - Har Mar Superstar

Well, it's back to bed for me. Leave your lists and I'll be sure to check them out when I finally wake up again!

Labels: FRT

annamaria at 9:39 AM

QAF 509: "I'll Never Be Mrs. Seymore Goldfarb"

Jen's been too busy for a recap, so I'll step up to the plate. Just between you and me, I think she's jealous that I was slated to write the recap for next week's “explosive” episode, and feigned busy-ness so that we can trade episodes. Bitch.

Alright, folks, it's confession time: about 99.9% of my love of QAF centers around Brian and Justin. Due to this, the annual Brian and Justin breakups hit me harder than most, as it means I have to sit through several episodes about the other characters. Bor-ing. Fortunately, the writers have managed to make ~~everyone else~~ Ted and Emmett interesting enough to make up for the lack of Brian and Justin love. In fact, those two were so much fun this week, and Justin was such a twat, that I could probably live without the inevitable reunion. Alright, that's a lie, but seriously, how great were the Emmett and Ted storylines this week?

Let's begin with Ted. Mr. Schmidt is getting all kinds of tail these days, but owing to a faster learning curve than Brian's, he's already bored. Yep, Theodore has found that sex is great and all, but finding a Jewish husband is truly the key to happiness. Enter the Gay Jewish Men's Mixer, and Dr. Adam Bernstein. For some reason, female gynecologists don't bother me, but the idea of a gay male urologist just strikes me as a little odd. But I digress...Teddy and Adam hit it off, despite the good doctor's hatred of opera (that's your hint, Ted, you need to get Blake back!). Unfortunately, there is trouble in paradise when Dr. Mensch finds out that Ted has never suffered that unkindest of cuts—which I suppose could pose a problem if you are looking for a Jewish husband. Damn. But that's alright, because while the Dr. Adam is a cutie (much, much better looking than Dr. David, I'm sure we'll all agree), he's no Blake. Chin up, Teddy, you'll find your man.

I could be cruel and make you read this entire recap before getting to Emmett and Drew, but frankly, even I can't wait to gush over them. Remember last week when I finally broke down and admitted my very strong feelings about Michael? Well, allow me to just as forcefully reiterate how I feel about Drew:

I FUCKING LOVE DREW BOYD

So, Drew spends a quiet evening at home with Emmett. Well, if you define quiet as being trapped in Deb's kitchen while reporters are swarming outside, that is. Um, can't Detective Carl do something about this? What's the point of living with a cop if he can't stop the paparazzi from trampling Debbie's rose bushes? Anyway, Drew decides to come out, and what better place than an exclusive interview on Queer Guy's own Channel Five News? And what an exclusive it is! Not only does Drew dispel those nasty and pernicious rumors of his heterosexuality, but he proves that he truly is a man's man by planting a kiss on Emmett that puts Rhett Butler to shame.

Unfortunately, the kiss gets Emmett fired, and Drew suspended—for his own good, of course. Thanks, QAF, as if I don't already feel the weight of my heterosexual privilege every Sunday night, now I have to deal with both of my guys losing their jobs because of people like me. Excuse me while I flog myself.

So, what's going on with the characters that aren't Emmett and Ted (wow, that's weird to say!):

Michael's store gets vandalized, and the writers are quick to remind us that the Nazis went after the comic books first...or something like that. So, in order to save himself from the ovens, Michael takes down a sign! That's right, you show 'em who's not a faggot, Mikey! Thankfully, Fred Phelps Jr. preaches in the street about the sanctity of marriage, and Michael, who apparently has his head stuck in the fucking ground and never once heard a straight man utter such bullshit before, decides to put the sign back up! That's right, you show 'em who's not a scared little faggot, Mikey!

Whatever.

Melanie and Lindsay continue with the in-house separation foolishness, and everything is going just peachy until Mel shows up late after an evening with cutie Corinne, and Lindsay is pissed! A major fight ensues, which starts with the breaking of vases and depressionware and ends with violent lesbian sex on the dining room table. Pretty typical....whoa! What the fuck did I just write? “Violent lesbian sex on the dining room table.” I'm sorry, I hate any scene which starts with violence and ends with sex (I could go on a feminist rant about society's conflation of violence with sex and its contribution to a culture of rape, but I'll spare you), but this scene was more disturbing than most. It smacks of that kind of male-titillating, consumer lesbianism that I hate in hetero porn, and really can't stand to see on a show that purports to represent actual gay lives. Awful. Blech.

And I wish I could say that this was the only disturbing sex scene in the show, but the other was so disgusting, so terrible I wonder if I should even mention it at all...Ben fucking the shit out of Michael against the kitchen sink. Ick. Ack. Yuck. Gag. Alright, fine, we all know that Ben and Michael fuck, but do we really need to see it? And right at the beginning of the episode without any forewarning? Can we please go back to the Brian and Justin foursomes at the top of the hour? So much more enjoyable.

In the interest of fairness, QAF decided that we heteros deserve to get a little action, too. Enter Jennifer, and the much, much younger Tucker. Jen jumps on the back of Tuck's motorcycle, and straight girls the world over swoon....and want to kick Jennifer's ass out of sheer envy. Damn, what a cutie! They should have cast this guy as Brandon—so much more believable as a Brian's would-be usurper. Anyway, Justin meets Tucker and he's not impressed; seems a 25-year age difference is more than Mr. Taylor can handle. Let's all say it together now: “Mr. Pot, meet Mr. Kettle!” What the fuck is Justin doing complaining about a little age difference? Seriously, Justin, you were 17 (you know, not an adult) when you moved in with your 29-year-old lover. Shut the fuck up and let your mother be happy, you ungrateful little shit (note to Michael—here's an example of when it is appropriate to refer to a child as being an ungrateful little shit. Commit it to memory.)

So, what's up with Brian, huh? Can't believe I've written this much without mentioning him. Brian and Michael still aren't talking. Oh, boo-fucking-hoo. Like I really give a shit if poor wittle Mikey got his feewings hurt. But, since I love Brian so I'm hoping that this little spat of theirs ends soon. Actually, fuck that, I think Michael should die in a fiery wreck and Ted should be Brian's new best friend. Am I the only one? Yeah, I didn't think so. Sorry, Kerri, you're going to have to refrain from hitting the mute button when you see Teddy, I think he's here to stay.

In one of the more fantastic scenes in QAF history, Debbie shows up at the loft with a tuna macaroni casserole and a joint, and proceeds to tell Brian that he needs to swallow his pride and get his Mikey back. So, at the World's Most Exciting Art Show™, Brian apologizes to Michael as only Brian can: “If you're happy being a Stepford Fag, than you should be the best Stepford Fag ever.” Needless to say, having shredded his copy of the Brian Kinney Operating Manual, Michael doesn't interpret this as an apology and basically tells our hero to fuck off. And this brings us to our second audience participation point of the evening; all together now:

I FUCKING HATE MICHAEL

There, don't you feel better now? Unfortunately, it's not so easy for Brian to hate. In the end, we find him standing on the catwalk at Babylon, overlooking his kingdom when who should arrive but Michael, finally accepting Brian's apology and undying love....only, it's not Michael, it's Ted, and Brian's little fantasy reunion with Mikey underscores the truth that we QAF fans are now beginning to grudgingly accept—Ted is the new Michael, and we love him for it.

So, next week Cyndi Lauper performs and Babylon blows up. Seriously. I'm personally hoping for a Great White-like pyrotechnic blow out, while Jen and Ian anticipate a not-so-random act of violence from the Prop 14 crowd. We'll see what happens on Sunday, and Jen will have your recap bright and early on Monday, having stolen the undoubtedly fantastic episode that was meant to be mine. Bitch.

Labels: QAF

annamaria at 12:57 AM

7.13.2005

Drugs = good. Choking games = bad.

See? She's confused about what all the fun is about, too.

A new form of Darwinism?

I thought this story was going to talk about autoerotic asphyxiation, but it's really just about kids who like to be just on the verge of passing out.

Now, where is the fun in that? I've passed out before, and there's nothing fun about it.

Anonymous at 11:19 AM

7.11.2005

Where's Tony Hawk for the McTwist?

Anonymous at 12:29 AM

0 spoke

7.10.2005

Well, the weekend's over...

Just getting ready to watch some QAF, wrapping up our weekend of fun [or laziness].

Unfortunately Annamaria leaves tomorrow. Hopefully only temporarily. I'm trying to make her a Chicagoan until Chicago ends.

Also, unfortunately, I get a tetanus shot tomorrow after stepping on a rusty nail this afternoon. Who does that?

Well, apparently me. It seems that I'm really hardcore for tetanus, along with cards.

Stay tuned for a QAF recap tomorrow morning, bright and early!

Anonymous at 11:00 PM

7.08.2005

Friday Random Ten: We're Hardcore for Cards

Annamaria is sleeping. We were out late. I am, in fact, very tired.

Sloan was actually awsome, prompting me to suggest another Weekend 'O Sloan to Annamaria. Unfortunately, tonight they are playing in Minnesota, which is far too far for our lazy asses (and for Annamaria, who already drove 5.5 hours just to get here.

Anyway, during the show, we decided that we're hardcore for cards, specifically the game of Canasta.

Really it's because a crappy band called Canasta played, and we only found out they were crappy after getting free buttons.

We like buttons, so now we are just hardcore for cards if anyone should ask.

Now you know.

On to the Friday Random Ten!

1. "Ecce Homo" - Serge Gainsbourg [dub remix]
2. "Divine Hammer" - The Breeders
3. "P-Street" - Pigeonhed
4. "Misery Is a Butterfly" - Blonde Redhead
5. "Take the Bench" - Sloan
6. "Down with the King" - Run DMC
7. "The Man Comes Around" - Johnny Cash
8. "I Was Born" - Magnetic Fields
9. "That's Alright Mama" - Carl Perkins
10. "I'm So Excited" - Le Tigre

Labels: FRT

Anonymous at 12:52 PM

7.07.2005

I have no time for idle whining.

1) What is happening in London has my full attention right now.

2) Work is a bitch.

So, unfortunately, no new posts today -- unless I feel very inspired. And more no trying to have a debate with a fake Rightie trying to get under my and my readers' skin.

Sorry Joey-Joe. You aren't worth our time. Back to NKOTB for you.

Anonymous at 10:49 AM

7.06.2005

Scary ghost shit.

*

Ian keeps sending me these scary ghost videos. I don't believe in ghosts, but some of this is actually kind of freaky stuff.

Like this video, which Ian said gave him messed up ghost dreams -- sort of a Blair Witch-type thing. Be sure to have your volume up to hear the guy scream like a little girl. (You are supposed to be looking for a little girl in the shadows.)

Or this one, which I actually think is much scarier. It's rumored that a woman would wait by the window for her husband to come home every day when he was out hunting, always nervous for him when he was out in the woods. One day he did not come back; body never found; blah, blah, blah.

Anyway, have your sound up for this one, too. Look at the windows -- about a minute into it you will start to hear some faint murmuring and see something go past the windows a few times. Ghost? Gardener? Let me know what you think.

* This photo cracked my shit up when I was looking for images of "ghosts." Heh.

Anonymous at 10:51 AM

"Wow. I feel so much better now."

I'm sure that's what the father of the 15-year-old kid killed for his iPod was thinking when he received a personal phone call from Steve Jobs. Nice gesture, but really?

I would like to see Nike call all the kids killed for their kicks.

Maybe he offered him another iPod. Or maybe a few mill' for his troubles. I mean, Jobs did say during his phone call that he was willing to do anything for the poor father.

Anonymous at 10:25 AM

7.04.2005

QAF 508: "It's who you are, baby. You can't deny it"

Here we are folks--it's the tipping point. The final season is officially half over, and with only a handful of episodes left, the tension has been ratcheted up and things are starting to fall into place. And, I've got to say, despite the disappointing beginning of this season, I'm starting to like where things are headed. I'm almost afraid to say this, for fear that I might jinx the last five episodes, but 508 might actually be one of the best QAF episodes ever! Bear with me boys and girls, this is going to be a long one.

First of all:

Pancho Mansfield
Jeremy Laforest
Max Dunn
Marc Hughes
Jason Pitt
Anthony Penn

What do these six men have in common? They've all just had the best fucking week of their lives.

Hot-Hot Brian and Not-Hot Brandon have officially begun their competition to finally figure out who is the biggest ~~slut~~, ahem, excuse me, stud in Pittsburgh. The competition is fierce, and Brian outdoes even himself by getting on a plane to Puerto Vallarta to pick up his #10, a one Mr. Alex Easley. Needless to say, Mr. Easley lives up to his name, and La Kinney remains the hottest fag in Pittsburgh. Long live the king.

Brandon comes to the loft to present his not-hot ass to Brian, while uttering the most asinine words ever heard on QAF:

"You can have my ass, but you can't have me."

Um, excuse me not-hot Brandon? Brian just sent the love of his life packing, and you actually think he's looking to replace him with you? In fact, Brian pulls a total about-face, and in a stunning display of not very Brian-life behavior, kicks Brandon to the curb before fucking him. What's going on here? Could it be that fucking has lost its appeal now that it is so easily won? Maybe Brian realizes that Lindsay was right when she told him he'd "already lost something far more valuable."*

In the end, Brandon is allowed back into Babylon, despite losing the bet. Brian seals his fate when he tells Ted, "You can lock the doors, bar the windows, but eventually it's bound to get in." Could Brian be talking about love?

Speaking of love, domestic bliss abounds in the muncher villa, and you know it's supposed to be obvious to us because even dumber than shit Michael comments on it. Melanie and Lindsay are trying an in-house separation--you know, kind of like Fergie and Prince whatever-the-fuck (Help me out here, Rich). Lindsay claims that this arrangement is the best. thing. ever. Cue the foreshadowing of complete and utter disaster. Meany-Melanie meets Cutie-Corrine at the Stop Prop 14 phone bank, and they get caught kissing...by Lindsay! Oh shit. Needless to say, Linds goes running to Brian, who shows a complete lack of sympathy (surprise, surprise), and she finally agrees to some stupid rules about not having ~~tricks~~, er dates at the house. Sound familiar? Yeah, and we all know what happened when Brian and Justin tried out those rules, don't we?

So while Melanie and Corrine are flirting, the gang decides to target the businesses that are supporting that most homophobic of bills, Stop Prop 14, and guess who's on the list: Craig Taylor. I was wondering when evil Craig was going to rear his ugly head--after all, it is an odd numbered season! Justin confronts Craig, who calls his own son "a disgrace and an abomination" and then confirms every kid's worst nightmare--his parents' divorce was all his fault. Yeah, Craig is a real sweetheart. So, Justin organizes a demonstration in front of Taylor Electric, and Craig has a stunning demonstration of his own: how to be a complete and total prick and have your son arrested. Nice. Family values my ass.

So while Craig is disowning his son for the millionth time, Ben is trying desperately to find his. Another Hunter-less episode makes Annamaria a very unhappy girl. Damn that little hustler, I just love him! Michael is just trying to get on with his life (asshole) while Ben finds some hustlers who tell him that Hunter has left town with no intention of coming back. Oh, and what's with Michael calling Hunter an "ungrateful little prick"? Hello Mr. Pot, meet Mr. Kettle. Have I insulted Michael enough this week? Can I call him a complete and total motherfucking asshole again and not be redundant? Because I think it bears repeating. In fact, I'm going to say it loud and proud so that there is no misunderstanding:

I FUCKING HATE MICHAEL

There, I feel better now that that is off my chest.

Boyd Likes Boys

Well, everyone, I've saved the best for last--DREW BOYD! Oh, how I have longed to see Drew this season, and while I want to hate everyone that has ever had anything to do with QAF for making me wait eight fucking episodes for it, I just can't. Not when Drew is so fucking phenomenal in this episode. Apparently, since Drew has been conspicuously absent for so long, QAF wants to get as much information in as possible. I'll recap, using the very efficient bullet-list system:

Drew is Emmett's stalker
Drew and Sierra got married
Drew fucked a male fan
Drew is blackmailed by male fan
Drew tells Sierra about said male fan
Sierra leaves Drew

Got it? Drew comes to Emmett for advice on how to handle the situation. Emmett convinces him that the only way is to come out of the closet and finally admit to being gay. Drew not only admits to being gay, but to having feelings to Emmett and Annamaria cries at one of the most touching and poignant scenes ever.

So, folks, overall a great episode. I can't really complain about anything other than Michael, but what else is new. If the rest of the season is like this episode, I might just be willing to let this series go.

---------------
*What's with the recycling of old lines this season? Isn't this almost exactly what Lindsay said to Brian after he kicked Justin during the season one loft burglary?

Labels: QAF

annamaria at 11:01 AM

7.01.2005

Say it ain't so, Sandy!

This story actually elicited a gasp when I read the breaking news in my inbox.

I was excited that it was Friday, but now I'm sad.

Totally not one of the ones that I wanted gone.

What about Rehnquist?

Anonymous at 11:15 AM

5 spoke

Friday Random Ten

Probably the only good thing that comes from working in the automotive industry is that every year I get the first two weeks of July off so that the plants can shutdown and switch over production to the new model year. As a result, today is my last day of work until July 18th. That means, dear readers, that my blogging these next couple of weeks will probably be even more sporadic than usual, since I tend to avoid computers like the plague when I'm on vacation. Can you blame me?

But you don't really care about my vacation. What you care about is the Friday Random Ten. And who am I to deny you? So, welcome to your Friday Random Ten "What the fuck is a bwrw glaw?" edition.

Career Opportunities - The Clash
Shipbuilding - Elvis Costello
I Want You to Want Me (live) - Cheap Trick
Live Bed Show - Pulp
Bloomington - Old 97s
Patio Song - Gorky's Zygotic Mynci*
Pictures of You - The Cure
The Sound of Settling - Death Cab for Cutie
Scenario - A Tribe Called Quest
I Had a Time - Embrace

Your turn!

-------------
I found out what a bwrw glaw is! Actually, the lyric is "mae'n bwrw glaw," and it's Welsh for "It's raining." Kind of anticlimactic, really.

Labels: FRT

annamaria at 7:10 AM