F**k you, too, Santorum

In spite of all his protestations, Rick Santorum is certainly working hard to cement that very special association his charming personality has garnered his name. 

No, I apologize. That was unduly insensitive and crass of me. I didn't mean to offend all of us who actually work hard to put a meal on the table and provide a roof over their children's head. Because as we all know, all he does is unplug that hole in his face and let the toxic waste festering in his soul spew forth. Wait, did I say 'toxic waste'? Because I really meant 'santorum'.

This is in regards to the Stephen Hill debacle at the 9/22 GOP debate. Personally, my opposition to DADT was never a passion interest for me simply because of my aversion to the military and all that it entails. Particularly so in the last two years because the momentum it gathered from Obama's and the Pentagon's increasing support made it evident that the repeal was not only imminent but inevitable. It should have been such a non-issue. And it looked like we were finally there when it was buried this week.

So, for this to occur within days, was like a cold splash in the face. It pissed me off. 

Just to be clear, no one's surprised by the shit that leaves this guy's or other equally conservative politicians' mouths. I wasn't expecting them to change over night, to easily move onto a new battlefield (read: another non-issue) where they can conveniently juxtapose themselves as the counterpart to Democrats. But I guess what I did expect was that they'd at least have the decency to treat an American soldier with respect. 

No. Santorum sucked the marrow out of anti-gay rhetoric bone-dry and pandered to the bigotry that drives the conservative vote. DADT has nothing to do with sex, and everything to do with giving each and every American soldier the respect, honor, and integrity they deserve. The fool. Inciting and reveling in hate politics over soldiers who sacrifice their lives to protect his dumbfuck, un-American ass. How dare you, and shame on you, shame on you.

And lest I forget, fuck you, too, Fox, for trying to whitewash it.

Stockings

Yes. 

Just yes to Dita Von Teese and seamed stockings. 

You're just lying to yourself otherwise. And why would you do such a thing to yourself?

She's gay!?

Hey, remember that movie from 1988 based on a book by Isabel Allende starring Meryl Streep, Glenn Close, and Winona Ryder?

Yeah, that one, The House of the Spirits (or La Casa de los Espiritus).

Yeah, hetero-ick, move on.

Well, I saw it again last night--but properly this time, you know. Meaning from beginning to credits without the pesky, self-absorbed parochiality of my teenage mind. And it was just as good as the first time, omitting some major, glaring discrepancies with the characters' race. (Seriously, did no one question having the whitest, gringo-est actors cast as the main characters? Really?) 

Except there was just this tiny, little thing that stood out this time. A rather inconsequential detail within the scope of the book, but still. And not to glaze over the other aspects of the film, or the book for that matter, because those are probably more noteworthy (although I actually do), but...

HOW COME NO ONE TOLD ME THAT GLENN CLOSE'S CHARACTER CRUSHES ON MERYL STREEP'S CHARACTER, HER SISTER-IN-LAW, IN THIS FILM/BOOK???

Glenn/Meryl? My world just imploded.

Where was I? Why do I even live? Does this count as hitting the lesbian jackpot yet? And did you know?

Because I sure didn't, and it came flying at me out of nowhere with enough force to tilt Uranus' axis back straight.

Glenn Close enlivens "Albert Nobbs"

Oh my god, yes.

Yes. Glenn Close is Albert Nobbs, a woman turned hotel butler living in socially repressive 19th century Dublin. The eponymous passion project of Close, who portrayed him on the stage in 1982, goes like this (via Geektyrant):

19th century Ireland: a woman with no husband or family and without work would face a bleak life of poverty and loneliness. Albert, a shy butler who keeps himself to himself, has been hiding a deep secret for years – ‘he’ is a woman who has had to dress and behave as a man all her life in order to escape this fate. When handsome painter Hubert Page arrives at the hotel, Albert is inspired to try and escape the false life she has created for herself. She gathers her nerves to court beautiful, saucy young maid Helen [Mia Wasikowska, Alice in Wonderland] in whom she thinks she’s found a soul-mate – but Helen’s eye is on a new arrival: handsome, bad-boy Joe, the new handy-man! As Albert dares to hope that she might one day live a normal life, we catch a glimpse of a free-spirited woman who is caught in the wrong time… This humorous but ultimately poignant ensemble story about life ‘below-stairs’ is nothing less than Gosford Park meets Boys Don’t Cry.

Did you just wet your pants a little? 'Cuz, not going to lie, I did.

Minx: One more

Aw, shucks, c'mon. Like I could help myself. Seriously. I have no resolve.

Oh, the tease.

Um. Hair. Eyes. Hook, line, and sinker. Yet again. 

Sweet baby Jesus, they are smokin'. And simultaneously cute. Gahhh.

Minx Madness

Yes, it's been quite a bit. But I've been a productive little bee as you'll see.

The hair!!! The hands!!!

Post-sex scene, which I have been naughtily remiss about, Minx madness has taken lesbians by storm. And by 'lesbians,' I mean the handful I know on Twitter (Follow me!) and AfterEllen, whose fanaticism alone could energize a nuclear submarine. 

We are an intense group. No, scratch that. We are fucking obsessed. 

But in a nice, good, completely harmless way, as MOST fangirls are. (Seriously, WTF was her deal? It's Marion Cotillard. You just don't mess with her; she's a goddess!)