… zeit-bites saturday … bad movies my ass BuzzFeed …

So, BuzzFeed has listed 28 Bad Movies To Watch With Your Gay Friends (click it to read) and I am totally fucking offended and appalled.

BAD? BAD MOVIES? You DARE to call “Valley of the Dolls” and “Burlesque” BAD?


Fuck you, BuzzFeed. Patty Duke should have won an Oscar for her portrayal of Neely O’Hara. She has been my role model throughout my entire life. I have emulated the faux Garland-esque style of Miss Duke/O’Hara, ever since I was a youngster and saw this work of cinematic genius adapted from an equally BRILLIANT literary tour de force by the Proust of our times – Miss Jacqueline Susann – which I also read before the age of ten. This explains a great deal I think – that I read Miss Jacqueline Susann’s oeuvre prior to puberty – and too, “Diary of a Mad Housewife” and “Portnoy’s Complaint” the reading of which coincided with my first episode of chafed penis but that’s a story for another time. Where was I? Oh, right, “Valley of the Dolls” – IT IS NOT A BAD MOVIE. It is genius. And in addition to Patty, there is Miss Barbara Parkins – of “Peyton Place” and endless ABC Movies of the Week fame. And Sharon Tate. I mean – SHARON FUCKING TATE! And Lee Grant. AND IF THAT ISN’T ENOUGH: SUSAN HAYWARD. Okay? Susan “I’m A Lesbian but Will Never Come Out Just Like Barbara Stanwyck” Hayward – doing an Ethel Merman impersonation?  THIS MOVIE IS BRILL! Look!


The number of times I have played this scene. Please. BAD MOVIE? I think not.

And, while not in the same class as the classic “Dolls” – you, BuzzFeed, dare to denigrate “Burlesque”? Uhm: CHER? ALAN CUMMING? STANLEY PLEASE LET ME SUCK EVERY INCH OF YOUR PERFECTION TUCCI? And DEREK PLEASE STOP STALKING ME (more on that later) HOUGH’s sister (her name escapes me – she matters not except that she is HIS sister) Are you freaking crazy? Look!

Oh no you di’n’t!

Christina isn’t bad either. But she’s not YET a Gaycon. Pretty fucking close though.

So, reading this article made me think of all the times I have watched these movies and all the people I have forced to watch them with me. I went to see “Burlesque” six times with six different people. That’s a lie. I went with four different people. I went alone twice. So what? And I own the DVDs of both. And how many evenings have I spent forcing – I mean – SHARING “Valley of the Dolls” with gays in training? You do NOT want to know. BUT EVERYONE WHO I HAVE MADE WATCH THESE MOVIES SHOULD BE THANKING ME FOR CHANGING THEIR DULL BORING MISERABLE YOU WERE CLEARLY MISSING SOMETHING LIVES. Even the gays in training who turned out to be not. Or, rather, especially those who turned out to be – not quite gay – but definitely DICKS.

I am a good gay. No doubt. I just look bad from the outside. Sort of. That’s not exactly what I meant. ALTHOUGH, speaking of – any aspiring authors out there who think getting rejected by Literary Agents (I capitalize so if one is reading she will understand just how much I HONOR and FEAR the breed) is rough – you should try being a gay over 40 – I MEAN – 30 – and trying to hook up with people – I MEAN – meet people via social media forums. FUCKING BRUTAL. Or, rather, more like – brutal NON-FUCKING.

HOWEVER – on a positive note – and I am definitely Pollyanna – yesterday I came out of the place where I get my hair cut and there’s a note on my windshield. In a delightful change of pace from the written communications I usually receive (see above lengthy aside comparing Lit Agents to social media gay-ups) which are along the lines of “YOU ARE NOT FOR ME” – referring either to my prose or my penis – THIS NOTE SAID: “Your left rear tire is dangerously low on air and you should do something about it right away. Love, a friend who cares about you.”

Wow. Obviously a friend I don’t know. Because NONE of my friends would notice a tire low on air. I just put air in my tires a week ago. And this one was dangerously low. I need new tires. Which I cannot under any circumstances afford. I haven’t even been able to pay my parking ticket. BUT – Tuesday November 26 this will all change when the Publishers Clearing House Prize Patrol shows up at my door. Well, not my door, cause I’ll be house/pet sitting – HOLY SHIT – WHAT IF THEY CAN’T FIND ME? How will I ever pay off my now shut-down credit cards and auto insurance and buy all the office supplies and ink I need from Office Depot and start buying from AMAZON again (they sent me a “we miss you” card last week) and . . .

hough derek runShit – hold on – GPS. If I can find the tricks  – I MEAN – places I’ve found with my GPS, surely PCH PRIZE PATROL can find me? Right? RIGHT? I mean, Derek Hough doesn’t seem to have any trouble keeping up with me – and really, Derek, this is getting embarrassing – I’m old enough to be your – well, DADDY!

Gotta run. Amber and Derek’s finale dance isn’t gonna choreograph itself.

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