This is shaping up as nostalgia week: remembering when Johnny Hart was funny, remembering when Germaine Greer was sane...
hortensio: Me, I feel the word "I" should be spelled "pants".
cumaeansibyl: Pants totally agree.
Damn it all, but I couldn't see any of the group's messages. So I did the next best thing: I checked out Kasey's Dogster site. Apparently, somebody wuvs Kasey vewwy much, because Kasey's owner posted--and has playing--"When I See You Smile" by Bad English, under the heading Chronicals of Kasey the Wonder Dog. Someone has also responded to Kasey's request to "Shout Me a Message, Nice 1's Only": so there is also a...note of some sort that is from a dog who claims to be Kasey's son that reads I love ya mommy! You are a pawsome pup. Your son MURPHY
This is why dogs don't have thumbs. They would actually type some shit like that. I love them, but you know that the golden retrievers of the world would be the ones buying the Anne Geddes posters and coining words like "pawsome".
Anyway, let this be your moment of zen for the day. And please, folks: gay people can't even get married one time yet, so for Christ's sake, only let your dog have a single wedding, no matter how many man-dogs tried to hump her full of puppies behind the Safeway that one time she dug a hole under the fence.
Context is off approving Catster friend requests || QWP
The uncoolness of this is equivalent to hanging out with expert Texas Hold'em poker players and mentioning that you're really into Old Maid.
Or going to a car show and glancing indifferently at the Aston Martin DB6 Mach II and then fondling the riced-out Pinto.
Or taking a Larousse Gastronomique cooking class and sharing your recipe for Velveeta and bologna cups prepared lovingly in a toaster oven.
It is deeply, thoroughly, utterly Uncool.
All my wild flings with hot floppy-fringed men half my age, my bold experimentation with pharmaceuticals, the various unnatural things I perpetrated upon my defenseless hair, all the hanging out with and befriending wanton rockstars, all the traveling to awesome places, the clever bon mots, the amusing anecdotes, the appreciation for the elegant humour of executive transvestites, the kickass media collection that demonstrates excellent tastes but also implies hidden OCD tendencies best left unexplored, the exotic pets, the clothing made of unnatural fibres, the ability to start persistent memes on Teh Intarwebz, being a Poor Starving Artist (with the obligatory paint-spattered clothing and haunted eyes), and a hundred or more other things that apparently have earned me nearly unlimited Cool Points...they are for naught.
Context is cool.
Context is flocked, QWPed, and loaded.
I'm a little bit freaked out by the interviews the author has done, she's constantly talking about sperm that ‘runs like tap water’
damanique: Seriously, if that's happening, the boys need to see a doctor.
context has pictures of m/m love. enjoy.
edied for my lack of linking skills
Something velocityboy said recently made me realize that after a long, hard day of moderating MQ* it's kind of disconcerting to realize there is no ban_set for assholes in real life. Or some way of screening comments in public so I don't have to explain awkward concepts to my daughter I wasn't prepared for. Nor am I able to retrieve my mother's messages, then to delete and mark as spam. Of all the wonderful mod powers I would like to have in real life, though; I think the one I would want is when my two year old is yelling, "No! Gross! I can't! No!" to everything I say, I could just press an ice cube to his forehead to get him to stop.
Jared Padalecki as Thomas Kinkade offendscathybites
grarrrrgh. I know that there are some of you who don't get what the big deal is, so let me give you this analogy: This is like Jensen landing the lead in George W. Bush: Miracle Worker, a film funded by the Bush family, and everybody says, "But Robert DeNiro is co-starring so that makes it okay because it'll be a good experience for Jensen."
Except I think I'd rather see the Bush film. oh, Jared. You deserve better than this!*
Context is starring in a really crappy movie.
I probably shouldn't be so enraptured with these proceedings or the misery therein. But seriously, it's like being in a courtroom, and while the accused is led to the stand he makes a "daring escape attempt" composed of stuffing a rabid badger down his pants and lighting his own hair on fire before punching himself repeatedly in the face. You can't help but gawk in sheer "WAIT, WHAT?!"