These days, I don't get my hopes up about issues like gay marriage -- I can barely dare to dream of a Democrat in the White House. But as August points out, this country's pretty gay-friendly already, even if it doesn't know it yet.
So, what better celebration of the Commonwealth's decision than a new episode of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy tonight? Really, I can't think of any.
Slowly but surely, Das Roomie and I are creating the Ultimate QEFTSG Drinking Game, which accounts for the use of words like "jegue" and occasions of "One or more viewers contemplates a blissful existance as Kyan's beard." We've been on hiatus for quite some time, I fear, but that shall come to an end soon.
In other news, life is short and I've got a fair amount of padding to cushion the needle. Why NOT get tattooed?
Well, the usual reasons. But I'm considering it more seriously than I was yesterday. Which is a step forward, at least.
The TV Roundup:
Watching West Wing 5.0 die a slow death has been distracting me from one interesting fact -- the misogyny has been absent and not-so-much-missed. Which is almost enough to make me not miss the Sorkin. Almost.
Angel keeps making my head hurt, what with the alternate realities that don't compute and the bad filming and editing and the stories that JUST DON'T MATTER, BECAUSE EVERYTHING'S THE SAME EVERY WEEK. But Wesley got to be a bad-ass last week. And that was pretty swell.
Okay, Ed, I'm willing to go to New York with you. But I have no idea what you're gonna do when you get there. And what's the big surprise of the season, anyways? C'mon, one hint?
I don't know if I'm allowed to watch Joan of Arcadia anymore. Last week hurt too damn much.
My boyfriend Michael J. Anderson described Carnivale as "Twin Peaks with logic." Which makes sense, because apparently Daniel Knauf's got a plan all worked out, and I can't wait to see where it goes next. Remember when it looked like Nick Stahl was gonna hook up with Clea Duvall? And instead he hooked up with Adrianne Barbeau? I mean, come on -- what's more awesome than that?
Well, yes, okay. Not counting Jon Stewart. Even if he doesn't like The Matrix
In comic book news, Stuck Rubber Baby dragged on a bit, but the ending was almost transcendent. If you're looking for a depressing graphic novel about growing up gay and white in 1960s Dixie, it's the story for you.
A busy night tonight, and mostly away from the computer -- first to the gym, then home to shower, then to see a friend sing at Molly Malone's. Grocery shopping on the way home from that, followed by some Bookslut work. Not much of a break for my wrist, which is starting to feel the burn today, but some, nonetheless.