Monday, August 27, 2007
Friday, August 24, 2007
Yes, I realize that I'm creepy. But I saw Tegan and Sara perform on Wednesday and I was completely and totally mesmerized. The hotness! The talent! The cuteness! The funny! The tattoos! Oh goddess, the tattoos... I could dedicate a full blog entry to the beauty that is inked body art. Basically: Tegan Quin is awesome, her sister is fabulous, and together they form the awesome-fabulous-fantastic Tegan and Sara.
"You are a very attractive city. Like, were we come from, in Canada, there are attractive people. But, there's like no ugly people in your city. It's sort of really unsettling, and um... we also felt really short. Because we're... [Tegan chimes in: "Short."] Yeah, we're short. And everyone here is like a hundred feet taller than us. Its... You're creepy sort of. But awesome! Totally awesome. Okay, so umm... Yeah."And then they played a song and after that Sara appologized for calling us creepy, but of course everyone was just thrilled to be called anything by Sara so she mostly got applause all the way through. Woohoo, Sara thinks I'm hot. And Tegan agrees, she was nodding. Yup, the world revolves around me and I took it as a personal compliment.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Tonight was a gayer, as a I saw a one-woman show called "You give gay people a bad name", by and with Helena Sandström. It was a fabulous hour long comedic monolog, with a few interruptions by her male heterosexual sidekick. I watched, I laughed, I identified. The show was all about psychotic lesbians, trying to pick up chicks, and crying yourself to sleep because you still haven't gotten laid. And there was singing and dancing as well. So basically, it summed up my life nicely. I involuntarily ended up in the show when Helena was going to demonstrate how good she is at picking up women on a member of the audience. Of course it worked (even though her pick-up technique only consisted of walking by and ignoring me), I would have totally gone home with her.
Unfortunately she had a show to finish. Before picking me out of the crowd she had just finished telling a story about boiling an ex-girlfriend's hamster and calling her every night for three weeks to prove her love. So clearly, she was playing somebody psychotic and we all know how the psychos are attracted to me. All in all, it was very "Killing me softly" moment. (You know: "Strumming my pain with his fingers, Singing my life with his words..." and so on.)
I loved the part where she explained to the straight people in the audience that there isn't one who is "the man" and one who is "the woman" in a lesbian relationship - there's one who's tall and one who's short. And that is how you divide the housework: The tall one changes the light bulbs, the short one fixes the car (since they can fit under the hood). And the garbage? You take turns, as long as both are tall enough to reach the trash can. Hah.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
I won't bore you with pictures of me in my undies, but here is a wonderful fellow parader who pointed out that we were wearing the same shoes.
Making Out and Flirting: There was mucho flirting. There was mucho making out (particularly in the parade, I left a lot of smudged lipstick on a lot of girls). I must say, I was pretty forward all of Pride. Perhaps not so much with the initiating of make out sessions, but at least with starting up conversations with pretty strangers. Go me!
Not Getting Laid, Not Even A Little: Clearly a lowlight as it means I will go into absolute celibacy and never get laid again. I’m seriously giving up. Or as Pink would say: It’s just me and my hand tonight (and for every night from now on). Pessimist, me? What? I will however not be turning down pretty ladies that want to get in my pants (wherever those women are hiding), I’m just not going to be chasing after them. I am so done with the chasing.
And there it is: My Pride 2007, summed up as neatly as I could.