I wish I had some kind of combination life coach/archivist. Or at least didn’t care so much about learning things. Or possibly I should just be smoking cigarettes more.
(image via Library Vixen)
Filed under: gay, heterosexuals, hot, in praise of athletic beauty, movies, music, personal, porn, starfucking | Tags: baseball, blur, boys, celebrities, christmas, cocteau twins, conner habib, elizabeth fraser, ersan ilyasova, films, gift ideas, grady sizemore, lolita, manliness, milwaukee bucks, nabokov, pet shop boys, porn stars, sherlock holmes, taquitos, the internet
I think I may go back to writing on paper, because my brain is seriously not disciplined enough to sit in front of the computer all day. I write two sentences, then I check my Google Reader. Then I write another sentence, then I become incomprehensibly worried that my Tumblarity might have dropped. Then I delete that last sentence and spend the next hour looking at all the links posted by the 400 people I’m following on Twitter. It’s kind of really fucking annoying.
Here is just a smattering of the things that are distracting me today:
A hairy gay creative writing professor/vegetarian porn star who likes The Dismemberment Plan, The Cardigans AND Patricia Highsmith? Hello, Dreamy McDreamsicles! Or Conner Habib, which I guess is what he technically answers to. (Oh, and did I mention that he’s effing gorgeous?)
Speaking of people with whom I’d like to make whoopie, I’m a little smitten today with Ersan Ilyasova of the Milwaukee Bucks. I don’t know anything about basketball, but at some point just before bed last night I found a photo of him here.
Also in sporting news, sometimes when I see iPhone photos of famous people I can’t distinguish them from iPhone photos of unfamous people. So forgive me for not recognizing baseball player Grady Sizemore the first 5 times I first saw this visual pun about teabagging. Actually, who am I kidding? I have no idea who the hell he is.
Kind of like how when I stumble across celebrity porn fakes there’s about a 90% chance that I won’t be able to actually identify the person whose head is photoshopped on. (The Daniel Craig one is pretty hilarious, though.)
I want more or less everything in the Art of Manliness Holiday Gift Guide. But mainly Filson’s Mackinaw Cruiser, the tweed radio and the leather bag. You know, if you were wondering.
The Chronicle of Higher Education looks at boys.
There’s a Blur documentary coming out early next year, in the UK at least. This is the kind of thing I would fly to the UK to see, if I were a wealthy jetsetter and not an underemployed “creative.”
Elizabeth Fraser of the Cocteau Twins does her first interview in forever.
The Pet Shop Boys have a Christmas EP coming out soon, and they’re releasing parts of the new Christmas single a little bit each day.
Natalia Antonova writes about Lolita over at The Second Pass. (Sadly, her thoughts on the novel aren’t accompanied by a Sasha Grey spread the way that Roger Ebert’s was.)
And finally, Videogum gets to the heart of something that’s been on my mind for weeks now: What the hell is the deal with those Sherlock Holmes Taquito ads at 7-11?
[Connor Habib photo via his Facebook]
You know what I love? Airports. I love everything about them, from the formality of security checkpoints to the strange exclusivity of semi-private TGI Friday’s locations. And how can you not love all the giant windows separating you (or saving you) from your destination? And how about those moving walkways? And all the bad public art? And the occasional glimpes of stylish people carrying stylish luggage dotted among the masses of bedraggled people carrying ordinary luggage? And let’s not even get started on flight attendant uniforms.
I also kind of automatically like tmovies and videos that play up airport imagery, even when they’re not as good as they should be (which they usually aren’t: View From The Top, Britney’s Toxic video, etc…)
But seriously, how adorable is the clip for this new Emmanuelle Seigner single? I love it, especially the slo-mo part in the middle.
(via Filles Sourires)
Filed under: art, books, gay, magazines, music, not hot | Tags: best books of 2009, gay rags, george michael, hard print, harlequin, i want your sex, moustaches, publishing, social media, tumblr
My head’s a bit muddled right now after trying to squeeze 50 songs into a 4 hour radio show and also with finding decent photos to match all the artists. (Poor V Factory don’t seem to have a good shot among them, even by boyband standards. Which is too bad, because Love Struck is definitely the best boyband song to come out since at least 2002.)
Romance publisher Harlequin’s been pissing people off left and right with their recently-announced self-publishing imprint. Basically, the idea was that if you send a manuscript to Harlequin and they reject it, they’ll sending you a nice letter telling you that they can still publish it with the Harlequin name, but only if you pay them and not the other way around. They’ve decided to shift their plans, though, after romance, mystery, and sci-fi writers’ groups all condemned the idea.
Also re: books, The Guardian asked an insane number of writers to name their favorite novels of the year, thus sending my to-read list into an out-of-control spiral.
House Of Vader made me laugh with his post about George Michael’s I Want Your Sex video. Also with this link. (Just the other night some friends and I were talking about what it is that makes people think singing along is impressive when you only know about 10% of the words. If you see this, DJCire1, fill us in.)
WizardElite on trimming the social media fat. The writer over there decided to ditch Tumblr, which is one of my favorites; I actually wouldn’t mind eliminating a couple of pointless social networks myself, although I’d probably get rid of LinkedIn first because, really, what’s the point?
Speaking of Tumblr, functional tumblelogs are few and far between, but Hard Print‘s a good one to follow if you’re into hipster-ish arty gay print rags.
And if arty men are your thing, you may be interested in a 2010 calendar that some RISD students recently put out, featuring men of RISD and their moustaches. It’s a nice idea and fairly well executed, although some of the photos are a little predictable. (I like Mr. September, though.) For some reason whoever’s behind the project also bought the domain sexconfident.com, which led me to think that this might be part of something bigger and more exciting. I think I was mistaken, though.
Filed under: lists, music, shameless self-promotion | Tags: countdowns, the pop chart
The Pop Chart year-end countdown starts tomorrow. It’s my recap of the year’s hundred best singles, ranked on a weekly basis. It’s quite different than the sort of year-end list I would make today, which sort of surprises me. But time is a fickle princess, or whatever that expression is.
Anyway, if you like pop music and trivia and hearing slow-talking people reciting numbers that don’t actually mean anything, tune in tomorrow from 10:30 AM Eaastern Time. Songs 100-51 will be tomorrow, and then the Top 50 will be the following Sunday.
But here’s a song about giving thanks for all of you nice people out there.
It’s from Scott Walker’s 1970 album ‘Til The Band Comes In. I’ve never heard the album in its entirety, though the second half is supposed to be very terrible; Jarvis Cocker included it on his list of “sad imitations that got it all wrong” at the end of Bad Cover Version (a song Walker himself produced.)
(mp3)
I had never heard of seventies British band Fox or their fabulous Australian singer Noosha until about twenty minutes ago, when article-related stress sent me to Youtube for a few minutes of unwinding. But holy crap, am I in love now. Above is S-S-S-Single Bed, a top 5 UK hit in 1976.
After the jump, one more Fox track, plus the debut solo single by Noosha:
Today:
drunken women
picture of bangles hokers
turkey cake
top 10 school playground love songs
poems about hookers
“is jeremy scahill gay”
Yesterday:
dick mitchell
joe rogan topless
songs of 2002 with indian beats
cl that phone number is already associated
faggotporn
(more…)
Filed under: music | Tags: amazingness, christmas, total coelo, toto coelo
“Christmas day was such a riot, the only thing left to do is diet.”
SERIOUSLY HOW DID I NEVER KNOW THAT TOTO COELO HAD AN ELTON JOHN-INSPIRED CHRISTMAS SONG THAT INCORPORATED RAPPING, NOT TO MENTION MUSICAL ELEMENTS AND CHOREOGRAPHY FROM I EAT CANNIBALS?!?!?!?!?!
I AM SO EXCITED THAT I DECIDED TO HIT THE CAPS LOCK BUTTON. Also, I am not trying to force the holiday season on you early, but merely saw this as a Related Video when I was watching the Milk From The Coconut clip on Youtube.
Filed under: art, books, Italians, magazines, music, not hot | Tags: art, bad sex in fiction, balls, catholics, cuba, electricity, ellie goulding, helvetica, italy, lady gaga, levi johnston, murder, patrick kennedy, penis size, records, sperm
I had my annual Fakesgiving (alternative vegetarian Thanksgiving potluck) party last night, so there were shouty drunkards in my apartment until 4 this morning. Then I had to take down the Queercraft show. So sorry this is brief.
Catholic Bishop Thomas Tobin has apparently banned Patrick Kennedy from receiving communion because the congressional rep (my district–woot!) is pro-choice. The congressman is the son of Ted Kennedy.
Brenda, the transsexual prostitute frequented by Italian governor Piero Marrazzo before his political downfall last month, burned to death in a mysterious fire early this week. Police are treating the case as a murder.
Cuban health care now covers free penis implants.
This is not how I would have spelled out the lyrics to Bad Romance at all.
Art Vinyl is looking for your favorite LP art of the year. Seeing this list reminded me that it’s been a full year now since I’ve had a functioning turntable.
Over at Carnal Nation this week, I learned a lot about my balls, thanks to Scientific American. I also learned how my laptop is probably killing my sperm and looked, briefly, into the shortlist for this year’s Bad Sex in Fiction prize.
Oh, and yawn.
[video: Ellie Goulding's Under The Sheets, which is pretty much my favorite song of right now. I love how it works the whole Bat For Lashes/Florence craze for kooky Englishwomen but also manages to be poppy enough to dance to.]
