This entry should be full of insh’Allahs and knockings-on-wood because it’s about a future event and I try not to tempt fate. . . but insh’Allah, knock on wood, the Scissor Sisters concert is going to be so awesome!
I finally heard the new single yesterday and came to a realization: they make me feel funny. Like that week of the month when you want to wrap your legs around the whole world and wriggle. I love men who don’t fear the falsetto and Jake Shears embraces it. It makes me amorous. Yes. Falsettos make me amorous. His makes me want to speed away home and express some affection for my sweetheart, and then dance, or vice versa. So does Shear’s cute little rat face and the way he jiggles. His friendly dirty sexiness makes me feel like I’ve drank way too much coffee, eaten way too little, and been keeping my standards way too high for way too long.
So I’ll be back from England before the concert Mr. N picked up tickets for. This will be a fucking, fucking hard trip but the prospect of a Scissor Sisters concert immediately afterwards feels comforting. Which is strange, because I don’t get this way about pop. I’m also comforted by the upcoming COC performance of Cosi Fan Tutte – that’ll be fucking shweet – but I can’t think of another pop act that would make me get all giggly and blush-y and randy. Maybe Arcade Fire or seeing the Brazilian Girls again. I like pop, but it usually doesn’t make me want to do things. The Scissor Sisters are magic. (That reminds me of a Zinédine Zidane quote I just heard that seized on my imagination – “Magic is sometimes very close to nothing at all.” Isn’t that nice?)
The Scissor Sisters, besides being a force to make us appreciate the beauty of the world around us, have found a place in my subconscious. Yesterday was the second time they came up in analysis – they swim up into my conscious mind whenever I need a reminder of how to approach and embrace upheaval in my life, everytime I need to remember fortune favours the brave and one has to holler out the awesomeness. In token of that, I’d like to introduce you to a man who wasn’t afraid to remind us to Lift Every Voice – I give you the Human Horn, Shooby Taylor accompanying Johnny Cash. When you want more, and you know you will, you can get it here. Don’t watch the footage of him at the Apollo, though. It’s too sad. Fucking people.
10 commenti:
Nothing like a man with a shiny bulge to make you want to dance. I hear you, Mistress, I'm sure you'll have a blast.
Oh! I didn't see your question earlier. Of course you're welcome to stay here. Jiri's coming on the Sunday so you guys might see each other. I could easily fit you both and would love to so no worries if things change. It will be so great to have a full apartment! Yay! Is Figaro coming? I forgot what you said earlier. (There's room.) I have to pass the same warning on to you that Jiri got - you're staying in the room with the monster in the closet. He just sits in there and waits until someone walks by.
I guess sometimes magic is very close to a shiny pant-bulge, too.
Cool! That'll be nice, Jiri said he was coming to Toronto next week but it would be nice to see him more, though I think I'm leaving early-ish on Sunday because Figaro isn't coming unless I find a car in the next three or four hours.
Closet monster - ooooo - I cannot get over how evilly cute Minou is. Just like Jake Shears.
Oh I hope you find a car, it would be lovely to see Figaro again!
Thank you for also trying to encourage people to embrace falsettos. Lots of people look at me oddly when I tell them how sexy I find it when a man can sing really high. Mmm-mmm...
I love the magic quote - definitely very nice.
Well, you should come visit us then!
Yes I should, shouldn't I! Weekends just fill up so fast these days..I'll keep it in mind though.
I'll come too! Just say when! Ditch the boys!
How's about the weekend of October 28?
It is open at the moment. And I'll be all alone.
Let's translate this discussion to words this weekend when I'm in the 'Twa.
I think that's a funny way to refer to Ottawa because it reminds me of 'twat'. Yes, I'm 27 years old.
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