Recent Entries

so annoyed, I'm posting like Rosie O'Donnell

eucch, fast & french reunion ugh
dragged there by Jesse & his twin
(they worked there for some reason)
hate that place, hate the food, hate the service
changing my name to MICHAEL HATRED.

following up...

My last post, plus catching the '21 Accents' girl on BoingBoing, got me thinking.
Hometown shout-outs are always welcome, but on her 14th Face of Eve she got the Charleston accent all wrong. It's not the first time, and actors are forever dreaming up a Southern accent that no one has ever heard outside of the movies. Where did it come from?

If you're attempting a Southern accent, please remember this:

VIVIEN LEIGH WAS NOT A SOUTHERNER.

It's so uniform, in movies, that it's obvious that they're all getting it from somewhere. It makes sense that the minute somebody gets a part and says, 'Oh, crap, I've got to develop a Southern accent,' they'd make the obvious leap to GWTW and take it from there.

Charleston accents are different anyway- the upstate is much more Appalachian.

If you wanted to do a Charleston accent, you need to say later to Miss O'Hara, and ask Foghorn Leghorn what's shakin'.

'Ow famleh hewse is on the Cuppa Rivah, but ow dottas go to shkewwl at Ashley Haw."

For Shannon...

This should be a drinking game....

My boyfriend is in the other room watching GONE WITH THE WIND.

I hate GONE WITH THE WIND.

But I'm going to cut him some slack tonight, and not just because he's an accountant and it's April 14th.

No, I'm cutting him some slack because he's being fascinating.

He's watching GONE WITH THE WIND, and he squeals with glee, or, even better, CACKLES, whenever Vivien Leigh loses her Southern accent.

My new theory...

a. Kurt Stefano was outrageously hot.

b. The host of that new VH1 show 'Tough Love'? Is really Kurt Stefano.

Current Music: Beach Boys In My Room

Entry tags:

Writer's Block: Really, Truly

[Error: unknown template qotd]True love?

Surely. The definition changes, depending on who you ask, but the similarities are more important than the differences.
I've been- blessed? I hate that word, with its connotations. Gifted? Sound a bit smug, and it's too self-reflexive. I've had amazing luck, it would seem. Agape, more than my share, and philia, even more than that.

Love at first sight, however, is baloney.

The male of the species is the romantic creature on this planet: I offer as my explanation the history of music.

Bar Dreams...

I've had this weird run of dreams lately, and they're all about the bar.

The first one involved turning the school district local on Montague into a bar- Mary M.-S. points out, probably correctly, that this is my subconscious getting even with the College of Charleston for taking the Arcade away from us to turn it into the business school.

But last night's was a doozy. In real life, me & J. had managed to avoid the Miss Pantheon drag pageant, thank god- but in my dream, we'd gotten the dates wrong and it was this Friday (personally, I can take drag or leave it- with 'leave it' winning by a nose). So J. had to work and I was at the light organ- trapped in the booth, we had to watch the entire thing.

I learned that in my dreams, drag pageants are coordinated by Tristan Tzara.
And the categories! Best I can remember, contestants were judged on these categories:

Berkeley County DSS
Antlers!
Favorite Serial Killer
Coworker Drag

Like, refreshments were served, and it was brie en croûte. Whether that's because my awake mind has always found brie to be unquestionably cummy, I'll never know.

(no subject)

Big rave being organized, and my boyfriend is the headliner!

This is in addition to Thomas coming in from Paris tonight, and Nick coming in from Italy in a month.

It's going to be a busy spring...

Hilarity ensues...

Did you know that Debbie Gibson had a fan club newsletter? And that five issues of it were sitting in our trash bin at work, along with her Posterbook Biography?

Anyone who thinks the 70s were the low point of fashion needs to be reintroduced to the 90s white shirt- black vest, hat, and <i>shorts</i> ensemble. Oh, pins. Lots and lots of pins.

Lux Interior, RIP

Rock On The Moon, Mad Daddy.

Thought for the Day.

Beards are stupid.

Discuss.

This is for Shannon...

My Wildest Dream...

is for someone to audition for American Idol...

with 'Mondfleck' from Pierrot Lunaire.

Kinked?

So... there's this new show on Discovery.

One Way Out?

And though I've yet to see it (premieres tonight, apparently), my, ahem, interest is piqued because of promos like this, and some clips I've seen, which make him appear so gleefully bondo-subby.

Oh, and this one:

(no subject)

This was... a nice day.

Be Seeing You, Number Six.

You can have your Steve McQueens and your six flavors of Bond,
but for me,
the real man's man,
the who-I-want-to-be,
the absolute coolest, suavest, most kickass motherfucker around was

Patrick McGoohan.

You made it out of the Village, John Drake.

MyFace SpaceBook stupidity.

Someone- let's just say her name rhymes with Gnfitzi- just sent me a friends request on fb.

A message was attached, which I expected to be advertising a cure for impotence or breast enhancement... neither of which I need. Instead, it was an explanation. Well, it tried to be an explanation, but I think she's cracked.

She wants me to add her as a facebook friend, when the connection is that she dated my boyfriend in highschool. Yeah. At the time I was in grades four through seven. And in a completely different state. Needless to say, I've never met the chick, and whatever they had going, ahem, didn't work out...

It's just so random as to be meaningless.