What? I let my boner make all my educational decisions.
IS THAT NOT HOW YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO DO IT????
Not majoring in Psychology, that was my decision. I mean, the Psych building was shaped like a jock strap, but that not why I studied there.
I enjoy the subject.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was a creeper.
I followed a guy to a Conservative Southern University to try to get in his pants.
razzmons replied to your post : In reference to THEATER NERD STORY TIME!!!
Julius! Yes! That makes sense! And no, I think too highly of you to ever even consider you and Joey together. And yes! knife-time poetry night. I’ve kept that in the back of my mind to add some script at some point. It will be epic…
A Word On Joey:
Joey is this short little disco queen Sam and I both knew back in High School. I met this boy in the 6th grade, he carried a Wizard of Oz lunch box to school, he and I would bitch each other out every day. We were both widely considered to be gay (because we were) but Joey was putting in overtime.
Anyway, we both joined theater, and he always despised me because I got all the leading man roles. In retrospect I wish I had included Joey in one of the terrible plays I directed in High School (one of which was called The Flight of the Broken Angel and I swear I don’t know how my parents sat through it. It was MEL! O! DRAMATIC!) I wish I had tried to mold Joey into the actor I thought he could be. He was a goofy actor, but I think that was because he was afraid to be vulnerable in front of other people. The strongest thing he would ever have had to draw on would be the experience of being trapped in a closet only he could see. Actors are perceptive; we can see the mechanics of your emotional preparation.
One time he wore a sailor costume for some reason and it was AWKWARD. All the straight folks were looking at me like I was supposed to say something.
THEN HE MOVED TO NEW YORK! AND NOW HE’S THE DISCO QUEEN HE ALWAYS WANTED TO BE!
HAPPY ENDING!!!
JOEY UPDATES FROM SAM!!!
razzmons replied to your post:razzmons replied to your post : In reference to…
He’s wanted to meet up a couple of times to have lunch, but I’ve never gone through with it, but one time, Rickey saw him on the street, & Rickey scampered away to avoid being seen. He felt bad, but he anticipated the great awkwardness.
It should be noted that the response of Ricky, Sam’s Common Law Boyfriend, is pretty typical. Joey had this way of creeping on straight guys pretty flagrantly. Considering the fact that he was still insisting he was straight, it was a pretty fucked-up sight to see.
If Ricky had talked to Joey, I can imagine him picking up one of Ricky’s eyelashes with his fingers and insisting Ricky make a wish. That is the kind of creeper we’re dealing with.
razzmons asked: In reference to THEATER NERD STORY TIME!!! I have two questions/comments:
1. Remember that time we talked in the Coffee Talk voice for like a week straight? That came back to bite me in the ass when I first moved to Jersey. Every now and then I would slip into that voice a little bit and I had to learn to fight with every fiber in my being not to let it take over. *shiver*
2. Who was this extra you got to 2nd base with?! I’m assuming it was during Guys and Dolls, cause what other show did we ever do that had ‘extras’, but I can’t even begin to remember who all was in that show…Who was it?!
1. OMG YEEEESSSSSSSS!!!!! Remember when that guy with a knife came and you saved the day with reasoning and logic, while Harold was trying to start a fight and I was working up some terrible plan about one of the shovels in the back? Thank God for you Samantha or we would have been DEAD.
2. Remember that super flamboyant black dude, Julius? He was in band, color guard, was one of the extras for G&D? He was the first guy I ever kissed. But I had this one cue I kept missing in the middle, and I was like NO SEXYTIME CAN WAIT IMPORTANT BUSINESS and then he didn’t like me anymore. Because I was a man of principal.
Who did you think it was, Joey? Ewwww.
It didn’t help that that is exactly how I put it at the time.
As we stood on the back of the stage behind the thick velvet blackout curtain, hands down each other’s pants getting, like, REEEEEEAAAAALLLLLYYYY grabby down there, and he growled in my ear “Let’s go in the dressing room. Nobody’s in there.” to which I responded (WHILE STILL GROPING HIM) “Oh, I got a cue in like 3 minutes.”
Why didn’t he let me grope him, ever again? WHY???
fuckthisshitttttt:fuckyeahwondershowzen
THEATER NERD STORY TIME!!!
I developed a reputation in High School for putting on wigs and doing impressions. I was famously loathe to break character for any reason, and some days I’d try to see how long I could go without having to speak in my normal voice.
There is a lot of downtime in theater. In between rehearsing and staging you have time while things dry, and spend time amusing each other. Once I found an old wig in the back and put it on, because at that point in my life I would just put an old wig on my head, consequence be damned, and go with it. This was a short, blonde wig, and I started telling my classmates that my husband and I had founded the Christian Miracle Network to help all the poor slobs out there that didn’t know Jesus.
My theater director comes out and gives me a ten minute lecture on respecting other people’s beliefs and I was shamed into silence for a few minutes. Lots of good memories in that theater room: telling jokes, playing games, getting to 2nd base with an extra during rehearsal. And even though he wanted to go to 3rd in the dressing room, I didn’t let it get any farther than that.
I had a stage cue to meet.
Never before have I seen an expression so clearly read, “Oh, shit; not again.”
Hi, Kitty!
Pippa via librarianpirate
When I first read that I imagined Pippa in pearls and a floor-length satin robe - the kind with feathers on the edges (I guess floor-length is anything when you’re a baby)? Maybe with a tiara on her head from a beauty pageant she won in a past life, before she was led astray by that handsome actor from Paris (How old is this baby, Garland?), holding a tumblr of sotch, leaning against the bannister, and declaring through her smudged makeup
“HELLO KITTY!”
as you walk in the door, and you’re like Pippa’s out of her crib and DRINKING, what?
I guess the point of this was: Your kids are awesome. And also, sometimes we get really funny images in our heads when we read a quote, (possibly related to our recently finished “Joan Crawford” phase) we realize those images are off base, and then we laugh about them.
I apologize, I’m sorry. I’m going off-script here, committing blasphemies, getting my swish all over nerd culture. Obviously my nerd identity developed in a separate warehouse from my queer identity, the two are totally and completely distinct. (Nothing queer about pages upon pages of men dressing in skin-tight costumes and wrestling each other – CLEARLY that’s the butchest sentence I’ve ever written!) Because when I talk about the ways my queer and nerd identities are interconnected, I subvert the heteronormative standard. As a gay man, I simply don’t possess enough cachet within nerd culture to complicate the narrative with my intersectionality. For nerd culture is serious business.
Serious Business.
![britisshameless
Sign you should probably stop reading the comments section: you can identify Mansplaining by the shape of the paragraphs. Solid and robust, long - owing to a deluge of undigested privilege, punctuated by the shitty misapplication of science, intended to prove, once and for all, that men and women are “just different.” Opened with the writer’s first name coupled with an admonishment i.e. “Amanda what you don’t seem to realize-” as if he’s finally going to tell her THE WAY THINGS ARE. A joke two or three sentences in, or what he intends to be a joke (“If I ran my [Construction Company/Junk Yard/MANLY PROFESSION] that way, I’d be run out of town!”), a false analogy, an anecdote about the women in his life, which shows the reader how blithely he must sail through a gauntlet of eye-rolling women, who are supremely tired of his shit, but who don’t take him seriously enough to engage him directly.](http://27.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l5y0f86KCW1qa3jtbo1_500.jpg)
Sign you should probably stop reading the comments section: you can identify Mansplaining by the shape of the paragraphs. Solid and robust, long - owing to a deluge of undigested privilege, punctuated by the shitty misapplication of science, intended to prove, once and for all, that men and women are “just different.” Opened with the writer’s first name coupled with an admonishment i.e. “Amanda what you don’t seem to realize-” as if he’s finally going to tell her THE WAY THINGS ARE. A joke two or three sentences in, or what he intends to be a joke (“If I ran my [Construction Company/Junk Yard/MANLY PROFESSION] that way, I’d be run out of town!”), a false analogy, an anecdote about the women in his life, which shows the reader how blithely he must sail through a gauntlet of eye-rolling women, who are supremely tired of his shit, but who don’t take him seriously enough to engage him directly.
