If you’re following me, you probably know about the huge, solar eclipsing lady boner I have for Zachary Quinto. What you may or may not know is that I live in Pittsburgh, which is his hometown (which makes him so much more special to me in so many inspirational ways). And ummm. He’s posting instagram pics of his mother, who I know still lives in Greentree. Guys. I think he’s near me. Before the Door pictures is having the Pittsburgh premiere of their movie Breakup at a Wedding this weekend, and it would totally make sense if he was in town for that. Guys. I. Can’t. Even.
My schedule for tomorrow: casually stalk the Dormont area (where the BaaW theater is) without seeming too ridiculously desperate.
I’m gonna get my hands on a copy of the play to read ASAP, cause it seems like an absolutely brilliant piece of work, and I need to shove this revival in my eyes before I die of deprivation.
Sooooo, if anyone knows where this link is floating around on any Broadway bootleg site, or if you have a copy of it yourself (I actually have a few bootlegs I could trade for it, I could do graphics commissions, or just be your sex slave for the rest of the foreseeable future)… PLEASE, get in contact with me. I need this. This ain’t no mothafuckin’ game.
This fucking movie. I have never reacted to a movie in this much of an emotional way in my entire life. Oh my god… Knowing that the ending was gonna be too much for me to handle, I watched the first hour or so about a week or two ago and saved the ending for a rainy day. Tonight was a chilly night, so I figured, why the hell not? Fast forward 20 minutes, and here I am, bawling my eyes out. (spoiler alert under the cut)
First of all, hello. :) I believe I haven’t yet text posted on my blog in the almost-year that I’ve had it. But I’ve been thinking lately, why not give this true blogger schtick a try? So unless any of you lovely followers I’ve somehow gained object, I may start text posting some nonsense every now and again. Maybe make some friends…? *fingers held in permanent crossies position*
There must be something in the air, some sorta creative gases let into my house by the government or something. (#ThanksObama) But today, I actually FEEL like a MUSICIAN. I don’t feel like a total wannabe, try-hard, piece of shit like I usually do. Whoawhoawhoa. Maybe I’ll post something on here for you guys to listen to…? Perhaps?
Don’t start political discussions with your parents if you don’t want to be insulted, mocked, and altogether ignored.
Maybe if I tattoo that to my forehead, I’ll actually remember it after all these years of trying. *loud sighing* Of course, because expressing my opinion on an injustice means that I need to “get off my high horse” and am being an inconsiderate bitch. Haha. I love the place I live in. *smashes head against wall for hour straight*
Pittsburgh Pride in the Street with Adam Lambert, baby. I spent the night swimming in a sea of gays and dancing like a freak to one of my biggest inspirations. This was the second time I saw Adam, and oh my lord, I could write novels about all the ways he’s inspired me, opened my mind, made me shake my bootay with glitter on my face… He’s actually what made me realize that theatricality and music could go hand in hand, which made me realize that my true calling in life was really music. And campy ridiculous entertainment in general.
*sighs loudly* *sinks into pile of feathers* Fucking A, man. Or should I say, Fucking GAY, man.
And seeing Tommy JoeFuckMe Ratliff wasn’t too bad either. Cutie with the nonexistent booty on the lead guitar… And they played QUEEN…. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. I can’t even anymore. I’m done.
If I actually lost followers due to my post of sexual frustration towards middle aged men, I think those unfollowing stragglers got lost on their way to the Fuck Giving Convention. You’re way off, better calibrate the GPS honeys, cause I DON’T GIVE A SINGLE FUCK. *thrusts*
I swear, if I don’t marry some dude who’s at least a decade older than me, I don’t think I’ll be able to understand anything about my brain or my lady bits.