A Hangman's Rope Pulls Me One Way Or The Other
|
Let
me just go on record saying how nice Rufus Wainwright is. If I could find a man as sweet
as he is, just less gay, it would be pretty damn near perfection. I sat there on
Friday night watching him onstage in his western shirt and cowboy hat giggling and making
jokes about our "Arts Fest", and thought I was going to die. Talk about
enlightenment. I so dig songwriters like that. I'd better stop gushing. It's just not too healthy. I grabbed a few postcards though, and if you want one, just let me know. Darling Rufus, so cute and posing so cute and so gay! Ahh! I'm so addicted. On Saturday, Amanda and I got daring and took the DART Light Rail downtown. They just opened it not too long ago. For those of you not in Dallas, it's one of those electric-powered trains that cuts through traffic. It even has a cool map and goes underground and everything! Rock on. We got off downtown and met Erin and her friend Ting at Planet Hollywood in the West End. Why Planet Hollywood? Because there was some sort of N Sync preteen melee there the day before and it would have been a good opportunity to look for dropped scrunchies and pieces of JC's lint. Alas, we just loaded up on the caffeine and decided to go to Saturday's events at the Deep Ellum arts festival. Sounds easy enough, right? Well, we got off at Pearl St. and walked to Deep Ellum. Under a major highway and through a tunnel (Built in 1930!) covered in graffiti. Maybe a mile at the most - not too bad - but now I have sore feet and that kind of sucks. Next time I'll wear thicker socks I guess. And there was nothing going on that night in Deep Ellum. Kind of a bummer. I went home and watched my favorite shitty tv show, Nettalklive, and the late showing of "Weird Science" on TBS. Yes, I have a life on a Saturday night and it includes cheesy dialogue, blues bands covering Fastball songs, and mutant bikers. Sunday I went with Amanda to see "Go" which was excellent. It was a good laugh, though I don't know if all of my friends would get into it with all of the drug and sexual references. I could just really see about half of the people I knew in every scenario of the movie. Which is what made it so good. My issue with the movie though was the overuse of breasts. Take for instance, Simon. Simon is English and has a threesome with two Jewish bridesmaids. Then he leaves in a hurry, gets in a Ferrari with a friend of his, and they go straight to a stripclub. More breasts. Lots of breasts. Good God. If you've seen a pair, you've seen a pair. You can only look at the same thing for so long before it gets boring. Okay, this does not apply to pictures of certain ex-members of Duran Duran. And I don't mean Roger or Andy. Looking at the same thing for hours on end is sometimes forgivable. Last night I watched Honeymoon in Vegas and remembered why I don't like sitting around watching tv ALL of the time. Or movies. I don't mind short television programs, but my attention span is that of a gnat. And forcing myself to watch a movie for two hours is a major ordeal, unless I really want to do it. Today I sat at work and read EVERY ONE of Nardwuar's interviews on his website. I'd read most of them a while back, but I went through them all today again and my Lord, he is my dream man. Ah. Nardwuar. Tonight Erin is taking me out for dinner, which is really nice. Thank you Erin. I appreciate mucho. Until then, I'm going to nap and will face the world in about an hour or so. My allergies are killing me though and I've got Beck's "Mutations" in the CD player and it's making me nice and relaxed. Time to rest. Ahhh.
|