johnny takes on the world

i guess sofia is pretty persuasive, cause she somehow convinced me to liveblog the olympics for her no-tv, vegan, vermontian, kombucha-drinkin, hippie ass. forewarning: if johnny doesn't medal, imma be pissed.

paczki/Johnny Weir day

recently, while watching olympic men's figure skating with my pal zina, i discovered a new favorite personality dichotomy (the old favorite being the there are two kinds of people in the world: ones who will smoke a joint up until they can't hold it comfortably and ones who will smoke that sucker until their fingertips burn divide). after brian joubert ate shit during the men's short program, i got pretty impassioned about how horrible it would be to get to the olympics and then eff up. in contrast, zina got all excited about the prospect of just hanging out in the olympic village, and when i supplied her with the name "michael jordan" as an olympian (not sure why), she explained "i don't want to be michael jordan, i just wanna be fifteen feet from him." for most of us, the olympics aren't about dreaming of greatness or winning that gold medal... they're about feeling like you know weirdly athletic, quasi-famous people. luckily, these winter olympics have something for e'erybody. the powers that be know we can't all be lindsey vonn fans (cause she's lame as hell), so they gave us two beautiful boys: my new gay best friend and my first non-gay boyfriend...














johnny weir and shaun white make these cold february nights just a little bit warmer.















johnny is the best thing that has ever happened to figure skating. watch "pop star on ice" and let yourself drift towards johnny like a moth to the flame.















shaun is the most prolific snowboarder of all time. and before he went for his second run last night, the expletive-ridden conversation he had on live tv was awesome- "stomp the shit out of that thing," bro.

well-deserved, mr. mctwist 1260

and tonight's the night for you, baby boy... let's make some dreams come true

jackie jormp-jomp

maggie is frank


judah is margaret

caitlin is pete

hornberger is me

something to believe in

in these turbulent times, when a daily bloggin' girl can get so busy she doesn't touch a computer for 2 1/2 days, the world needs something steady to hold onto. and during dangerous days like these, when five old timers can change the course of american politics by watching a hillary clinton movie, us folks gotta make sure somebody's got our backs... luckily, just when i needed them, the fugly mugs of the '96-'98 detroit red wings showed up - fists flailing - and improved my outlook on life tenfold.


it's probably safe to assume that the majority of my readers were NOT all losery little pre-teen dykes tomboys during the scotty bowman days, so imma catch you up...

claude lemieux, of the colorado avalanche, acts like a little bitch and takes a cheap shot on red wing kris draper during the western conference finals of the 1996 stanley cup (the hit is right around the 1:12 mark):


he totally fucks up draper's face, and we don't see our buddy kris again for almost a year... meanwhile, the avalanche take the western conference and go on to win the stanley cup:


the wings and avalanche meet up several times during the 1996-1997 season, but bitch-ass lemieux doesn't dress for any of the games until the fated fight night at the joe. the '97 wings-avalanche brawl is everything hockey, and my life, should be:


so tonight, re-watching these videos, i found myself back in that cloud-themed, baby blue bedroom in which i spent countless nights secretly watching red wings games on my black-and-white television... i love everything about the footage, from mccarty's turtle-making beating on down; but when mike vernon (over whose sudden placement as first string goalie above chris osgood caused me some sleepless nights) landed that left hook on patrick roy and then fell on top of that french canadian bitch, my 9-year-old self knew that my hockey team, and my life, were gonna be just fine.

freaky friday (and saturday and sunday)

in an effort to move away from the semi-queer, pop-culture-focused blog i seem to have created thus far, i'd like to tell a little story... on friday night, quite late in the evening, myself and my guest blogger friend, maggie, spent some of morning's wee small hours on my porch. and, almost as if for our exclusive entertainment, a drunk girl in weird boots was stumbling all over the sidewalk near my apartment. sadly, i looked away from her messiness for five seconds and missed this chick eating shit on the sidewalk just a few feet away... now don't misread this: in ann arbor, watching (or nearly seeing) a drunk bitch in boots fall over on a friday night by no means makes for a "freaky friday." maggie even informed me that drunky fell on purpose, and while i didn't witness this, i was neither unconvinced nor surprised by her seemingly intentional spill. however, watching her struggle to get back on her feet, i realized that while drunkass reserved the right to lay down on the icy ground for no apparent reason, her judgement in this situation was noticeably poor.


i articulated this dismay with two words: "bad decision." in that moment, i might as well have read my mystical cookie's fortune aloud... messy miss made it to her feet and uttered two words at the exact same second: "bad decision." there was no earthquake, nor did a chinese restauranteur look on, smiling suspiciously at our situation. saturday morning came and went without a life-changing event, and this monday afternoon i'm still in my own body... but i'll be damned if i hadn't been certain on that friday night that my freaky friday moment had finally arrived, and that i'd spend the next few weeks figuring out how to get back into my original human shell. does this mean i should lose faith in television/movie magic? what impact will this have on my ability to watch disney films starring lindsay lohan?

side note: i thought this post would somehow take my blog in a decidedly less pop culture, less gay direction... but with those two freaky friday photos, both of which are 1/2 lesbo (to varying degrees, of course), this post ain't any different than the others. thanks for putting up with it, readership.