subterrain

I'm trying extremely hard to not capslock this entire post, okay? So give me the benefit of the doubt here, because for two very good reasons it has been two very awesome days.

One: I am employed. I AM EMPLOYED IN MY FIELD. And, for added karmic benefit, not in the oil and gas industry. My soul = saved.

Two: The new Beirut double-EP split got leaked three weeks early. That is, the EP Zach + band recorded last spring in Oaxaca, Mexico, March of the Zapotec (the recording of which may or may not have inspired an epic gaymo romance f. Shia Labeouf); and then the solo, synth-pop-leaning bedroom-forged Realpeople EP called Holland. In his very own words: "It's a pretty ridiculous switcheroo."

I AM LISTENING TO IT RIGHT NOW, AND OK, delighter CAN ATTEST TO THE FACT THAT I WILLINGLY AND REGULARLY LISTEN TO THIS KID'S HORMONAL STYLINGS FROM WHEN HE WAS A 15 Y/O HIGH SCHOOL DROPOUT, LIVING WITH HIS PARENTS IN SANTA FE, AND SCOOPING ICE CREAM FOR TOURISTS, BECAUSE I LOVE EVERYTHING HE PRODUCES WITH A FERVOUR NORMALLY DISPLAYED BY THE THE DENIZENS OF fbr_secrets BUT C'MON. PRODIGY DOESN'T BEGIN TO DESCRIBE IT. THIS KID MAKES MY HEART CRACK OPEN.

DOWNLOAD IT NAO 4 SRS!



Also, my bandom big bang is 90% guaranteed to be an AU where Panic is a pretentious Brooklyn-based gaymo vegan indiepop band, so it's probably best if everyone just gets used to figuring out what this kid looks like, right? Zach Condon is the snotty Pete Wentz of my heart, or smthg.

So, beer and rum aside, one of the few things I said at tonight's dinner party (finally! I hosted! nothing burnt!) was a pointed comment to the life partner regarding the designated driver (his brother's girlfriend) that brought him home the other night:

"So what you're saying," quoth I, "is that your boyfriend's 21 year old sister is more responsible than you?"

I totally did not get away with that in the gainfully-employed-and-pregnant non-fandom crowd. My only link to sanity, opprobrium jumped in with a "THAT WAS SOME SLIP, COOP." Thanks, buddy. My completely internalized fetishization of homoerotic culture is at that point, now. I don't even have any shame any more. I would totally ship my boyfriend/his brother. What.

In fact - and here's the point, kids - probably the highlight of this week was watching the 1968 film adaptation of the play The Lion in Winter on VHS, and totally scoring on the gay backstory front.

For serious, Timothy Dalton's first role (back when he was lithe, cat-eyed 21 year old) was as the lithe, gaymo, cat-eyed King Phillip Augustus of France in 1180AD. And a frighteningly young Anthony Hopkins played his boar-hunting lover. UGH. It was one of those times when you're vocalizing the innuendo for the script because you're already inured to the idea that no, there will never be surprise buttsex. AND THEN THE SCRIPT OUT-INNUENDOS YOU AND THERE IS TRAGIC TALK OF LETTER-WRITING AND SHAM MARRIAGES AND HANDS BEING HELD AND THEN THEY STROLL OVER TO THE BED.

I quote: "You never said you loved me."

( If you can handle the stilted cinematography, you should watch them be CHARMING )

In other news, I am neglecting my flist because I've been busy writing ridiculous RPS rarepairs that no one but me and the gf care about, so carry on, I will eventually get this out of my system and do something relevant. Sorry.