Thursday, January 13, 2011
Monday, September 13, 2010
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
soap box explanation
For all you millions of readers out there in blogoworld, in case you didn't know, I am a big old fag-dyke-lezzie-homo. I am huge and unapologetic and crass and also not a very good textbook lesbian.
Confusing?
why yes, I agree.
I believe that I am a lesbian, I identify as a lesbian, if a polite young person came up to me on the street and asked what I was, I would scream:
IMA BIG FLAMING MUFF DIVER!!
However, this doesn't change the fact that I'm currently boning (and loving) a guy named G. It also doesn't mean I consider myself bisexual. My understanding of bisexuality is that is a duality of love for both sexes. A bisexual person can equally and fairly fall in love and be completely satisfied with either a man or a woman (or for the lucky people, both at the same time). I cannot.
In my short, moderately experienced life, I have only ever truly felt love for two different guys. Conversely, I seem to have truly felt love for every girl I know. Even the ones I haven't slept with (they count too, it would seem)
There is a certain level of intoxication, emotion, electricity and infatuation I feel toward all women that I have never really felt toward men. The way I feel is perfectly described by the great poet of our time, Lil' Wayne:
"I wish I could fuck every girl in the world. Yea, alright"
I do. I really do.
guys however? I'd really wouldn't want to fuck a new guy for the rest of my life.
COMING SOON: "TALES OF PAST PUSSY or BDP SYNDROME or HOW I LEARNED TO STOP WORRYING AND LOVE THE BOMB"
Confusing?
why yes, I agree.
I believe that I am a lesbian, I identify as a lesbian, if a polite young person came up to me on the street and asked what I was, I would scream:
IMA BIG FLAMING MUFF DIVER!!
However, this doesn't change the fact that I'm currently boning (and loving) a guy named G. It also doesn't mean I consider myself bisexual. My understanding of bisexuality is that is a duality of love for both sexes. A bisexual person can equally and fairly fall in love and be completely satisfied with either a man or a woman (or for the lucky people, both at the same time). I cannot.
In my short, moderately experienced life, I have only ever truly felt love for two different guys. Conversely, I seem to have truly felt love for every girl I know. Even the ones I haven't slept with (they count too, it would seem)
There is a certain level of intoxication, emotion, electricity and infatuation I feel toward all women that I have never really felt toward men. The way I feel is perfectly described by the great poet of our time, Lil' Wayne:
"I wish I could fuck every girl in the world. Yea, alright"
I do. I really do.
guys however? I'd really wouldn't want to fuck a new guy for the rest of my life.
COMING SOON: "TALES OF PAST PUSSY or BDP SYNDROME or HOW I LEARNED TO STOP WORRYING AND LOVE THE BOMB"
Monday, July 26, 2010
wowzah
Ok, so as none of you know (because no one reads this shitty little blog) I loooooove Mad Men. It was a fluke, an out of the blue romance that started with some subtle eye- catching, which has now turned in to a fuck-till-the-sheets-are-soaked, guttural-noises-from-the-bottom-of-your-throat, would-kill-something-to-make-you-smile love.
And to my great fortune and delight, the newest season has just started. The fourth season, mind you. In honor of it, I have decided to get drunk. Not too drunk tho, just drunk enough where I can process all their witty banter and feel clever for doing so. I decided to then watch the premiere episode, even though I'm by myself and would give my friends shit if they had done they same. Regardless, here are my thoughts:
It starts out awesomly enough, Don is being interviewed by some guy from a print agency. The guy is acting like a 60's pschologist, asking "who is Don Draper?". It's the first line of the episode and it's the perfect question, obviously asked so us fans can chortle to ourselves and ask mentally: I dont know, you tell us? It's a nicely done opener, where we can see painfully and clearly, just how cagey and vacant Don can be when confronted by the fact that he is essentially a ghost.
By the way, what the hell language is this interviewer writing in to his little notepad? It looks like a cross between Sandskrit and algebra.
anyway,
Rodger and Pete soon show up and I feel mixed about this. They both are characters who are the funniest and the worst, I never know who is going to make me belly laugh or face-palm. But when the reporter stands to leave and stumbles over his fake, wooden leg that he lost in Korea, I pretty much know exactly who is going to be on which end of the spectrum. Anyway, after the reporter beats a limping exit, Sterling takes his seat and makes a valient effort to get a mild buzz before 1 pm. Pete has to be a fucking stick-in-the-mud and demands they leave, but not before Sterling calls the print ad agency for being so cheap that they cant even afford to send over a full reporter. LOL AMPUTEE-JOKES STERLING! you cad..
Don, Pete, and Sterling then arrive at some funny motel boardroom, where they have a meeting with some prospective clients, Mr. and Mr. Prude. These two guys dont sell bikinis ( which are the garments of common day whores) but two piece bathing suits. They are a family company, which does not support the erotic exposure of the female belly button. They are Decent and Wholesome. They want a campaign that won't titilate or insinuate. They also want a bigger share of the market, but they refuse to have ads that look like they came from a "girly magazine".
Don is unimpressed. He tries to prod them indirectly with questions about where they see themselves going if they don't plan to broaden their market. The maybe-clients are rendered mildly speechless by simple questions they've never thought to ask themselves, like 'if we want a larger share of the market, which new group should we target?'.
Oh God! And did I even mention how adorable Peggy and the new guy Joey are? They are hanging out in some cute little office within the new, sleek, dare I say modern, lodgings of Sterling, Cooper, Draper, Pryce. They're all cute and young, with an inside joke where they breathly call each other "Jaaawn" and "Maaawshaww". It's adorable. But then comes the poopy smell that is Pete. He breezes in, plunking a canned ham on Peggy's desk. She looks all kinds of yummy and makes glib remarks now. She even gets all motherhen and defends Don. It's Pryceless.
Apparently, there is some issue with a client of theirs, a purveyer of canned ham. Pete is all in a tizzy about how the ham-people are going to drop the account because the artwork sucked and sales sucked harder. Peggy comes up with this brilliant idea to pay two old ladies to duke it out, in real life, over the last can of ham in a supermarket. Its delightfully trashy and gimmicky and risky. And of course the three of them decide to only tell Don about it when it's in its successful, "funny how that actually worked out" stage of life.
After that lovely little scene, we are with Don again while he is receiving legal advice concerning the matters of divorce. Matters such as: When to kick the ex-mrs. out of the house you're paying for, how to arrange thanksgiving dinner? It's a cute scene if only for the fact that his lawyer is pouring him shots while counseling. Oh, the crazy 60's...
Once the lawyer departs (after inquiring about the state of Don's balls and whether he is "enjoying himself) Sterling arrives.
I move to the edge of my seat.
Rodger, of course, helps himself a drink from Don's cabinet, then proceeds to bash the crippled reporter and tout one of his barely-legal wive's friends as a great dinner companion for Don. Sterling pushes a dinner date on Don, telling him to quote "stuff her" as part of Don's bachelor-Thanksgiving celebrations. Sterling also makes some parting comment about the chicken kiev, and spraying butter. It makes me think vaguely sexual thoughts. However, Don doesn't so much agree as just sit on his office couch and silently assent while Sterling makes the appointment with Don's secretary.
After an engaging psuedo-montage where we get to see Don's life alone in an apartment (hint: it's the same as his married life, but now with Betty cast as a Brooklyn housekeeper) we arrive with Don on his blind date. Lo and Behold, dear readers; Don's mystery date is none other than Steve Newlin's wife Sarah from TrueBlood. The blonde holy chick who gives Jason a handjob in the bathtub, all while making Jesus allegories.
In this scene, she is lovely. Demure, strong, coquettish, and nervous. Not the perfect bait for our Donald Draper, but fizzy enough. Most of her irritating mannerisms from TrueBlood are gone (meaning shes learned how to close her mouth properly while talking). When it comes time to order dinner, she gets the chicken kiev, without hesitation. I suspect this is Rodger-influenced and I suspect it's a minor boner-killer for Don as I believe he still kinda hates Rodger.
However, dinner goes off nicely, so I assume. But not so nicely that Don can work his way up to Sarah Newlin's apartment. She basically tells him that she knows all the tricks and informs him that if he wants to get into her Maidenforms, he better be the white guy cutting up Sterling's turkey, come Thanksgiving day. She leaves the cab and Don makes, what I imagine to be, the Blue-Balls Face.
What I assume is next day, brings us to Peggy in a coffeeshop, congratulating her two middle-aged actresses in successfully pulling off a Jerry Springer-esque scuffle over canned ham. One woman is sporting a rather large behive, a bleeding finger, and apparently some sore feelings which I can only assume comes from losing a public fight with Ms. Mittens. Before they leave the cafe, Beehive grabs Mittens by the hair; perhaps vowing revenge?
This brings us to the first appearance of Harry Crane at the SCDP offices. He is sunburnt and portly, with those beautiful eyes safely hidden behind his Peter-Parker glasses. Apparently he has just returned from some trip in Florida and has great news. He asks Joan to set up a meeting with everyone so he can share and bask in his good fortune of obtaining a prime T.V. spot for Jai Alai; the sport that all we future- people know never takes off in America. Or really anywhere else for that matter. But Harry's excited, so its hard not to be excited for him.
Then a dark cloud. Don is called into Sterling's office. The fancy new articles about Don that was intended as a sponsership and advertising for SCDP is out and that weeble- wobble reporter was not kind. The article makes Don sound like 'a prick", falsly modest, and I guess like Dorian Grey? It's crappy PR for the budding company, but thats where the title for this episode comes from as well as one of the best lines from this episode from Don : "I learned a valuable lesson, stay away from one-legged reporters".
The article carries quite a punch and the idiots behind Jai Alai pull out because even though Don didn't mention any client in the article, he really didnt mention them. It makes that rich brat from last season kind of cry over the phone to Pete. The whole thing would be funny and honestly a sigh of relief, if it weren't for poor Harry. He went through all that hardwork and peeling skin to obtain a t.v. deal for a company that just fired them. Harry yells at Pete to make it right, then storms out of the tableless conference room with the most emo parting shot: "I wish we really had a second floor, so I could jump off it".
On the plus side, later and else where in the office Peggy, Joey, and Pete are all sporting their shit-eating grins while they hear about how happy Honey Bear Canned Ham is with the staged 50yr + Ham Brawl. The press is going crazy, everyone's buzzing, Peggy's bushy haired brain is thinking up ways to capitalize on this man-made drama with a vaguely racist ad-campaign about an indian and pilgrim fighting over a can of ham*.
*Peggy and Viewers, I will spare you the hours of wondering who will win that fight. The pilgrims will give the Indians ham in a can with a side of measles, and the pilgrims will one day evolve to the point where they deep-fry a turkey for their day of giving thanks.
The scene after this is our first glimpse of Betty so far, after only 30 minutes. It is Thanksgiving time at the Henry Francis home and this moment around the dinner table can best be described in few words: Sally Draper fucking hates marshmallows. Bobby Draper loves em. To go into further detail would be robbing you of the pleasure of this scene.
But however badass Sally Draper may inadvertantly be, the scene after dinner is fucking awesome. The whole episode Don has been mumbling queitly, yet firmly about how he has plans this Thanksgiving. Would you believe that his plans included a super-sexy prostitute? One who actually wants to take off her bra while fucking? One who is actually on top instead of buried in sheets? One who 'knows what Don likes'? Let me tell you, the scene is hot and even as lady-lover, it convinces me to put Don Draper firmly in the spankbank.
After that fun little scene, shit gets real. Peggy calls Don and she's all flustered and upset. It seems that warrior grannie actresses hold more of a grudge than anticipated. One is now pressing assault charges against the other. The time has come for Peggy to come clean about the whole scheme and ask Don for bail money in addition to hush money for both women. Don is all pissed about it because first of all, no one ran this by him and second of all, he just paid his special lady friend; he's all out of cash at the moment. Begrudingly though, he agrees to help Peggy because let's be honest, he loves the little tyke. However he does chew her up one side and down the other.
The next day Don shows up at his old house. He's there to pick up the awesome Sally and Bobby Draper. Betty is distant and cool, Henry Francis is in the toilet. Before Francis emerges, Betty pointedly reminds Don that the kids are to be brought back at 9 sharp. It's pretty awkward and vaguely sad. Don takes the kids back to his apartment where they sleep in bunk beds in a room with old-fashioned swinging saloon doors. Its cool and so weekend father. Once the kids are gone though from the house, Henry and Betty get all frisky in the car in the garage.
I am torn. Part of me is happy that Betty is finally getting laid but another part of me can't help but wonder is that's Betty's dead father's car or the car that Don bought last season and surprised her with... either way... meh.
After spending the day with kids, quietly watching cartoons and working on creative, Don brings Sally and a sleepy Bobby back to a dark and empty house. It seems that Betty and Sir Francis lost track of the time and havent returned home yet. Sally lets the three of them in with her spare key and Don waits up for Betty to return, which she does so, almost an hour later then planned. Don is pissy, but justifiable. Betty is best described as childish. Don makes a great parting shot about how everyone believes her new relationship to be fleeting. He also reminds her that she agreed to move out a month ago. Don leaves and Henry takes this opportunity to remind Betty that Don is right. I guess Henry doesnt care any more about getting some...
The next day brings us back to the offices of the four names. Don, Pete, Sterling, and the two stuffed shirts from the bathing suit company are meeting again. This time Don presents them with an ad idea. Its cute, suggestive, inventive, and tongue-in-cheek. It also features a photograph instead of illustration and this small fact makes my heart twinge for Salvatore Romano. But anyway, the bikini prudes hate the idea. It's too sexual and offensive. It implies something that a "family company" shouldnt. The younger one says that its almost dirtier not seeing anything. Well duh sir, what do you think lingerie is for? To sum it up, they're not happy with it.
To sum Don up, he is sick with this shit. He gets up and leaves the meeting. He doesnt want any of their prudish business or their willful ignorance over the product they're selling. Basically he's over it. Don even goes so far as to return to the meeting room and holler at the now ex-prospective clients to leave his offices now. The real capper is when Don snaps his fingers like he's Miss Jenny on the Block. I like this scene because you can really see how little patience Don actually has for people of this nature and for circumstances where he is expected to do more then just muse whimsically about projector wheels and whether you have Jesus in your heart. This is a Don who is part of heading a company. His image and name is one of its legs, it's only as strong as he can make, as Peggy points out in her quiet badass way.
So with this outburst of inner Don irritation, there are consequences. He now must do damage control and that means a new interview with a new reporter (one with both legs). In this interview we see the mannequin that is Donald Draper. He pastes on a flashy smile, tells the story of how SCDP started with a roguish grin and butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. The scene fades to black and we are left with the Ken-doll Don, charming his way to better PR even while we know bile is burning the back of his throat.
I can't wait for next sunday.
And to my great fortune and delight, the newest season has just started. The fourth season, mind you. In honor of it, I have decided to get drunk. Not too drunk tho, just drunk enough where I can process all their witty banter and feel clever for doing so. I decided to then watch the premiere episode, even though I'm by myself and would give my friends shit if they had done they same. Regardless, here are my thoughts:
It starts out awesomly enough, Don is being interviewed by some guy from a print agency. The guy is acting like a 60's pschologist, asking "who is Don Draper?". It's the first line of the episode and it's the perfect question, obviously asked so us fans can chortle to ourselves and ask mentally: I dont know, you tell us? It's a nicely done opener, where we can see painfully and clearly, just how cagey and vacant Don can be when confronted by the fact that he is essentially a ghost.
By the way, what the hell language is this interviewer writing in to his little notepad? It looks like a cross between Sandskrit and algebra.
anyway,
Rodger and Pete soon show up and I feel mixed about this. They both are characters who are the funniest and the worst, I never know who is going to make me belly laugh or face-palm. But when the reporter stands to leave and stumbles over his fake, wooden leg that he lost in Korea, I pretty much know exactly who is going to be on which end of the spectrum. Anyway, after the reporter beats a limping exit, Sterling takes his seat and makes a valient effort to get a mild buzz before 1 pm. Pete has to be a fucking stick-in-the-mud and demands they leave, but not before Sterling calls the print ad agency for being so cheap that they cant even afford to send over a full reporter. LOL AMPUTEE-JOKES STERLING! you cad..
Don, Pete, and Sterling then arrive at some funny motel boardroom, where they have a meeting with some prospective clients, Mr. and Mr. Prude. These two guys dont sell bikinis ( which are the garments of common day whores) but two piece bathing suits. They are a family company, which does not support the erotic exposure of the female belly button. They are Decent and Wholesome. They want a campaign that won't titilate or insinuate. They also want a bigger share of the market, but they refuse to have ads that look like they came from a "girly magazine".
Don is unimpressed. He tries to prod them indirectly with questions about where they see themselves going if they don't plan to broaden their market. The maybe-clients are rendered mildly speechless by simple questions they've never thought to ask themselves, like 'if we want a larger share of the market, which new group should we target?'.
Oh God! And did I even mention how adorable Peggy and the new guy Joey are? They are hanging out in some cute little office within the new, sleek, dare I say modern, lodgings of Sterling, Cooper, Draper, Pryce. They're all cute and young, with an inside joke where they breathly call each other "Jaaawn" and "Maaawshaww". It's adorable. But then comes the poopy smell that is Pete. He breezes in, plunking a canned ham on Peggy's desk. She looks all kinds of yummy and makes glib remarks now. She even gets all motherhen and defends Don. It's Pryceless.
Apparently, there is some issue with a client of theirs, a purveyer of canned ham. Pete is all in a tizzy about how the ham-people are going to drop the account because the artwork sucked and sales sucked harder. Peggy comes up with this brilliant idea to pay two old ladies to duke it out, in real life, over the last can of ham in a supermarket. Its delightfully trashy and gimmicky and risky. And of course the three of them decide to only tell Don about it when it's in its successful, "funny how that actually worked out" stage of life.
After that lovely little scene, we are with Don again while he is receiving legal advice concerning the matters of divorce. Matters such as: When to kick the ex-mrs. out of the house you're paying for, how to arrange thanksgiving dinner? It's a cute scene if only for the fact that his lawyer is pouring him shots while counseling. Oh, the crazy 60's...
Once the lawyer departs (after inquiring about the state of Don's balls and whether he is "enjoying himself) Sterling arrives.
I move to the edge of my seat.
Rodger, of course, helps himself a drink from Don's cabinet, then proceeds to bash the crippled reporter and tout one of his barely-legal wive's friends as a great dinner companion for Don. Sterling pushes a dinner date on Don, telling him to quote "stuff her" as part of Don's bachelor-Thanksgiving celebrations. Sterling also makes some parting comment about the chicken kiev, and spraying butter. It makes me think vaguely sexual thoughts. However, Don doesn't so much agree as just sit on his office couch and silently assent while Sterling makes the appointment with Don's secretary.
After an engaging psuedo-montage where we get to see Don's life alone in an apartment (hint: it's the same as his married life, but now with Betty cast as a Brooklyn housekeeper) we arrive with Don on his blind date. Lo and Behold, dear readers; Don's mystery date is none other than Steve Newlin's wife Sarah from TrueBlood. The blonde holy chick who gives Jason a handjob in the bathtub, all while making Jesus allegories.
In this scene, she is lovely. Demure, strong, coquettish, and nervous. Not the perfect bait for our Donald Draper, but fizzy enough. Most of her irritating mannerisms from TrueBlood are gone (meaning shes learned how to close her mouth properly while talking). When it comes time to order dinner, she gets the chicken kiev, without hesitation. I suspect this is Rodger-influenced and I suspect it's a minor boner-killer for Don as I believe he still kinda hates Rodger.
However, dinner goes off nicely, so I assume. But not so nicely that Don can work his way up to Sarah Newlin's apartment. She basically tells him that she knows all the tricks and informs him that if he wants to get into her Maidenforms, he better be the white guy cutting up Sterling's turkey, come Thanksgiving day. She leaves the cab and Don makes, what I imagine to be, the Blue-Balls Face.
What I assume is next day, brings us to Peggy in a coffeeshop, congratulating her two middle-aged actresses in successfully pulling off a Jerry Springer-esque scuffle over canned ham. One woman is sporting a rather large behive, a bleeding finger, and apparently some sore feelings which I can only assume comes from losing a public fight with Ms. Mittens. Before they leave the cafe, Beehive grabs Mittens by the hair; perhaps vowing revenge?
This brings us to the first appearance of Harry Crane at the SCDP offices. He is sunburnt and portly, with those beautiful eyes safely hidden behind his Peter-Parker glasses. Apparently he has just returned from some trip in Florida and has great news. He asks Joan to set up a meeting with everyone so he can share and bask in his good fortune of obtaining a prime T.V. spot for Jai Alai; the sport that all we future- people know never takes off in America. Or really anywhere else for that matter. But Harry's excited, so its hard not to be excited for him.
Then a dark cloud. Don is called into Sterling's office. The fancy new articles about Don that was intended as a sponsership and advertising for SCDP is out and that weeble- wobble reporter was not kind. The article makes Don sound like 'a prick", falsly modest, and I guess like Dorian Grey? It's crappy PR for the budding company, but thats where the title for this episode comes from as well as one of the best lines from this episode from Don : "I learned a valuable lesson, stay away from one-legged reporters".
The article carries quite a punch and the idiots behind Jai Alai pull out because even though Don didn't mention any client in the article, he really didnt mention them. It makes that rich brat from last season kind of cry over the phone to Pete. The whole thing would be funny and honestly a sigh of relief, if it weren't for poor Harry. He went through all that hardwork and peeling skin to obtain a t.v. deal for a company that just fired them. Harry yells at Pete to make it right, then storms out of the tableless conference room with the most emo parting shot: "I wish we really had a second floor, so I could jump off it".
On the plus side, later and else where in the office Peggy, Joey, and Pete are all sporting their shit-eating grins while they hear about how happy Honey Bear Canned Ham is with the staged 50yr + Ham Brawl. The press is going crazy, everyone's buzzing, Peggy's bushy haired brain is thinking up ways to capitalize on this man-made drama with a vaguely racist ad-campaign about an indian and pilgrim fighting over a can of ham*.
*Peggy and Viewers, I will spare you the hours of wondering who will win that fight. The pilgrims will give the Indians ham in a can with a side of measles, and the pilgrims will one day evolve to the point where they deep-fry a turkey for their day of giving thanks.
The scene after this is our first glimpse of Betty so far, after only 30 minutes. It is Thanksgiving time at the Henry Francis home and this moment around the dinner table can best be described in few words: Sally Draper fucking hates marshmallows. Bobby Draper loves em. To go into further detail would be robbing you of the pleasure of this scene.
But however badass Sally Draper may inadvertantly be, the scene after dinner is fucking awesome. The whole episode Don has been mumbling queitly, yet firmly about how he has plans this Thanksgiving. Would you believe that his plans included a super-sexy prostitute? One who actually wants to take off her bra while fucking? One who is actually on top instead of buried in sheets? One who 'knows what Don likes'? Let me tell you, the scene is hot and even as lady-lover, it convinces me to put Don Draper firmly in the spankbank.
After that fun little scene, shit gets real. Peggy calls Don and she's all flustered and upset. It seems that warrior grannie actresses hold more of a grudge than anticipated. One is now pressing assault charges against the other. The time has come for Peggy to come clean about the whole scheme and ask Don for bail money in addition to hush money for both women. Don is all pissed about it because first of all, no one ran this by him and second of all, he just paid his special lady friend; he's all out of cash at the moment. Begrudingly though, he agrees to help Peggy because let's be honest, he loves the little tyke. However he does chew her up one side and down the other.
The next day Don shows up at his old house. He's there to pick up the awesome Sally and Bobby Draper. Betty is distant and cool, Henry Francis is in the toilet. Before Francis emerges, Betty pointedly reminds Don that the kids are to be brought back at 9 sharp. It's pretty awkward and vaguely sad. Don takes the kids back to his apartment where they sleep in bunk beds in a room with old-fashioned swinging saloon doors. Its cool and so weekend father. Once the kids are gone though from the house, Henry and Betty get all frisky in the car in the garage.
I am torn. Part of me is happy that Betty is finally getting laid but another part of me can't help but wonder is that's Betty's dead father's car or the car that Don bought last season and surprised her with... either way... meh.
After spending the day with kids, quietly watching cartoons and working on creative, Don brings Sally and a sleepy Bobby back to a dark and empty house. It seems that Betty and Sir Francis lost track of the time and havent returned home yet. Sally lets the three of them in with her spare key and Don waits up for Betty to return, which she does so, almost an hour later then planned. Don is pissy, but justifiable. Betty is best described as childish. Don makes a great parting shot about how everyone believes her new relationship to be fleeting. He also reminds her that she agreed to move out a month ago. Don leaves and Henry takes this opportunity to remind Betty that Don is right. I guess Henry doesnt care any more about getting some...
The next day brings us back to the offices of the four names. Don, Pete, Sterling, and the two stuffed shirts from the bathing suit company are meeting again. This time Don presents them with an ad idea. Its cute, suggestive, inventive, and tongue-in-cheek. It also features a photograph instead of illustration and this small fact makes my heart twinge for Salvatore Romano. But anyway, the bikini prudes hate the idea. It's too sexual and offensive. It implies something that a "family company" shouldnt. The younger one says that its almost dirtier not seeing anything. Well duh sir, what do you think lingerie is for? To sum it up, they're not happy with it.
To sum Don up, he is sick with this shit. He gets up and leaves the meeting. He doesnt want any of their prudish business or their willful ignorance over the product they're selling. Basically he's over it. Don even goes so far as to return to the meeting room and holler at the now ex-prospective clients to leave his offices now. The real capper is when Don snaps his fingers like he's Miss Jenny on the Block. I like this scene because you can really see how little patience Don actually has for people of this nature and for circumstances where he is expected to do more then just muse whimsically about projector wheels and whether you have Jesus in your heart. This is a Don who is part of heading a company. His image and name is one of its legs, it's only as strong as he can make, as Peggy points out in her quiet badass way.
So with this outburst of inner Don irritation, there are consequences. He now must do damage control and that means a new interview with a new reporter (one with both legs). In this interview we see the mannequin that is Donald Draper. He pastes on a flashy smile, tells the story of how SCDP started with a roguish grin and butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. The scene fades to black and we are left with the Ken-doll Don, charming his way to better PR even while we know bile is burning the back of his throat.
I can't wait for next sunday.
brilliant
"This is always half my problem, btw. I like women so much that it's almost as if I want to consume them.
I want to see inside their houses. I want to pick through their bookshelves and quietly judge their music collections. I want to see them naked and I want to see what kind of toothpaste they use and find out what kind of spices are in the spice rack and find out what it feels like to have their arms around me. I want to try women on. What if I was your girl? What if this was my life? What if this was my house? What's it like to be you? Who are you? Why am I in your space? Why are you allowing me to see you in this incredibly vulnerable way? What are you getting from this? What are we to one another? What does all this mean?"
quote by :
http://effingdykes.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2010-06-18T11%3A06%3A00-07%3A00&max-results=500
I want to see inside their houses. I want to pick through their bookshelves and quietly judge their music collections. I want to see them naked and I want to see what kind of toothpaste they use and find out what kind of spices are in the spice rack and find out what it feels like to have their arms around me. I want to try women on. What if I was your girl? What if this was my life? What if this was my house? What's it like to be you? Who are you? Why am I in your space? Why are you allowing me to see you in this incredibly vulnerable way? What are you getting from this? What are we to one another? What does all this mean?"
quote by :
http://effingdykes.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2010-06-18T11%3A06%3A00-07%3A00&max-results=500
Sunday, July 4, 2010
lucy liu with a peen
new dream from a couple days ago. A sex dream. about lucy liu. made all the more terrible because occurred during a family vacation, meaning my whole family was sharing the same room (thankfully not the same bed).
anyway.
it began innocently enough with G. and i fooling around in my sisters room at my old house. But i quickly decided that it wasnt private enough, so we move to my old room. Im not sure what exactly happened in the time between that and lucy liu showing up (possibly with eva mendes in tow) but the next thing i remember is putting on this bizarre royal blue satin cloak. It have white ruffles around the sleeves and edges, with no way of fastening it closed. It apparently, was a sex cloak which i had to put on before i could straddle lucy liu a la cowgirl style and began riding her. Now, this was lucy liu, clearly a woman. In my dream, she was still a woman. But she had a huge ass cock. not a strap-on or feeldoe, but a full on penis. I was thrusting and riding her, bending back over her legs when i woke up at 9 in the morning. every member of my family was awake in the room, watching tv or getting ready for the day. I wake up laying on my back, with my knees bent up in the air, heels of my feet against my ass.
i have no illusions as to whether this was a silent sex dream. i can only hope that the home improvment show on tv was so engrossing that noone noticed their close family member getting her rocks off in dreamland by way of an anatomically incorrect, sexy, biracial lady..
is this what my life is coming to?
anyway.
it began innocently enough with G. and i fooling around in my sisters room at my old house. But i quickly decided that it wasnt private enough, so we move to my old room. Im not sure what exactly happened in the time between that and lucy liu showing up (possibly with eva mendes in tow) but the next thing i remember is putting on this bizarre royal blue satin cloak. It have white ruffles around the sleeves and edges, with no way of fastening it closed. It apparently, was a sex cloak which i had to put on before i could straddle lucy liu a la cowgirl style and began riding her. Now, this was lucy liu, clearly a woman. In my dream, she was still a woman. But she had a huge ass cock. not a strap-on or feeldoe, but a full on penis. I was thrusting and riding her, bending back over her legs when i woke up at 9 in the morning. every member of my family was awake in the room, watching tv or getting ready for the day. I wake up laying on my back, with my knees bent up in the air, heels of my feet against my ass.
i have no illusions as to whether this was a silent sex dream. i can only hope that the home improvment show on tv was so engrossing that noone noticed their close family member getting her rocks off in dreamland by way of an anatomically incorrect, sexy, biracial lady..
is this what my life is coming to?
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
happening again
so i feel like shit. i will type. kinda.
I had a dream the other day and amsel showed up. It's the first dream i remember where she appeared. She had nothing to do with the main part of the dream, except she was there to comfort me. I was being ignored and she appeared out of nowhere. I knew she was still dead, that this wasnt real, but i was so happy to see her. I buried my face in her fur and stroked her fur. It felt so good to hug her again... I woke up then. cried because i remembered. she felt so real in my dream, it was a little like losing her again. I hope that i dream about her again. I hope that i will have other chances in the future to at least fake my mind in to having her again. its pathetic.
in other news, things are now going to shit with gary. This is not a surprise. after the school semester, we both went back to our own towns, which are about two hours away. Now long-distance relationships are never easy for anyone. They are pretty much one of the hardest things two people can go through. But i, stupidly, thought things would be different. but it isnt. He's pulling away, blithly throwing himself into any semblence of a relationship (not even with anyone who's physically closer) and essentially blaming me. not with words, but inactivity. i think i overestimate people. I think i overestimate my ability to keep things. i think i overestimate the level of interest this post can provoke in people that it does not directly involve.
tomorrow i leave for vacation. to drive for seven hours to some stupid lake in new york. i feel angry, sad, and bored without reason. I want to pick a fight and throw my phone at the wall. instead, im going to go fold laundry and feel nothing but sorry for myself. I might also drink and by that, i mean i will drink.
sorry chelsea, your vanilla vodka is no longer available.
I had a dream the other day and amsel showed up. It's the first dream i remember where she appeared. She had nothing to do with the main part of the dream, except she was there to comfort me. I was being ignored and she appeared out of nowhere. I knew she was still dead, that this wasnt real, but i was so happy to see her. I buried my face in her fur and stroked her fur. It felt so good to hug her again... I woke up then. cried because i remembered. she felt so real in my dream, it was a little like losing her again. I hope that i dream about her again. I hope that i will have other chances in the future to at least fake my mind in to having her again. its pathetic.
in other news, things are now going to shit with gary. This is not a surprise. after the school semester, we both went back to our own towns, which are about two hours away. Now long-distance relationships are never easy for anyone. They are pretty much one of the hardest things two people can go through. But i, stupidly, thought things would be different. but it isnt. He's pulling away, blithly throwing himself into any semblence of a relationship (not even with anyone who's physically closer) and essentially blaming me. not with words, but inactivity. i think i overestimate people. I think i overestimate my ability to keep things. i think i overestimate the level of interest this post can provoke in people that it does not directly involve.
tomorrow i leave for vacation. to drive for seven hours to some stupid lake in new york. i feel angry, sad, and bored without reason. I want to pick a fight and throw my phone at the wall. instead, im going to go fold laundry and feel nothing but sorry for myself. I might also drink and by that, i mean i will drink.
sorry chelsea, your vanilla vodka is no longer available.
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