My Weekend Crush

I don’t watch “The Good Wife” on a regular basis. I’m more about watching the front end of the law (crime procedurals) than the back end (legal dramas). But I have caught the show on occasion and marveled at the cool, calm and calculating customer that is Kalinda. Those knee-high boots, those mini skirts, those leather jackets. Yum. Her mystery and sexual ambiguity only adds to her allure. Is she, isn’t she? Well, after this week I’d say she definitely is. Also, let’s be honest, that kiss was fucking hot.

The revelations about her past with Donna (played by my eternal favorite Lili “Joe Lies” Taylor) pealed back an interesting layer to the Kalinda mystique to show us something we’ve almost never seen on her. Panic. Beneath those immaculately arched eyebrows flashed panic at revealing something, losing control. Fascinating stuff. And it was all expertly played by Archie Panjabi, who should have a hell of an Emmy clip reel to submit while going for the repeat. It’s not often you see someone who can be elegant, inscrutable and bad-ass all at once. But she pulls it off with style to spare. Just whatever you do, don’t let her near your car. Happy weekend, all.

Come on. Cake.

True story: I feel asleep last night (basically comaed out) after an hour-long fit of hysterical laughter brought on by reading damnyouautocorrect.com. As an iPhone user, the site is basically every text conversation I’ve ever had. My sister has become so skilled at deciphering my texts that the occasional use of the work of “vaginal” instead of “annual” doesn’t even phase her anymore. Though, on occasion when the predictive text just won’t stop fucking with me, she does have to ask, “Um, have you just have a stroke?” So, this is sort of a long way of saying I’m sorry I didn’t have a post up this morning. Instead, please let me gift you with the joy of laughter. First enjoy a few very funny, very charming ladies. And then, because laughing like a drunken monkey at your screen while co-workers look on is a rite of passage in this Internet age, please enjoy a couple choice examples from damnyouautocorrect.com. You’re gonorrhea.

Hillary Clinton

When Hillary turns on the charm, it dazzles. Also, I would happily write a thank you note were anyone to send me gravy chips. Just sayin’.

Tina Fey

Finally, a definitive end to the cake or pie questions. (My better half Tina won the Mark Twain Prize for Comedy this week, which will air Sunday on PBS. Swoon.)

From Damn You, Auto Correct!
[Click to embiggen the L to the OLs]
Anal birds really are the worst.

Kiss this

Oh, Glee. You are like that crazy best friend who usually makes you do ridiculous things, but then sometimes surprises you with insights. That and who won’t stop singing. The thing about this show is it often makes no sense. It’s not about linear storytelling or realistic character development. But that doesn’t make it bad necessarily, it just makes it different. I enjoy Glee for specific reasons – unabashed escapism, fantasy fodder, jazz hands. Yet, in other ways it is the most sneakily subversive show on television. While it wears its outsider status proudly, it’s still just really an awkward gay kid struggling to make it through another day any way it can.

Its popularity makes it an easy target. But criticizing the show because of its lack of sophisticated narrative is like shooting fish in a barrel. Of course it doesn’t, that’s not the point. Does that drive a person crazy sometimes? Yes, like what kind of school allows a full-grown man and teacher to perform sexily alongside his underage students? Where is the money for their elaborate costumes keep coming from? Who plays the steel drums in high school? But we keep watching for the fabulosity and the unequivocal championing of the underdog. I’m not a fan of the “A Very Special Episodes” because I think the message is often too heavy handed. And, yes, parts of this week’s “powerful new Glee” were indeed heavy-handed and even cringe-worthy (all that girls like it when you’re mean to them stuff – really?) But parts were unexpected and, dare I say it, deeply moving.

A reviewer recently called Kurt Hummel the most important character on television right now, and he may well be right. While we’ll never be able to scientifically quantify the impact of seeing an out actor play an out high school student with the grace and power of Chris Colfer, make no mistake, it matters. It matters to a scared gay teen who gets tormented in the hallways every day. It matters to the gay adult who finally gets to see his or her adolescence replayed to them on the television. It makes a difference because we love Kurt, we hate his pain, we want things to get better.

The look on Kurt’s face when he sees the all-boys school utopia of tolerance? Heart melting. The look on Kurt’s face when his closeted bully slams him into the locker once again? Heartbreaking.

The homophobic bully who turns out to be a scared homosexual in particular was effective. Sure, it’s been done before. But as every scandal about a bigoted senator/pastor/whathaveyou who turns out to be secretly gay proves, often the roots of homophobia come from deep-seated self hatred.

In the episode’s secondary never-been-kissed storyline, poor Coach Beiste is everyone’s “cooler.” Dot Jones is lovely, bringing layers of sensitivity to what might otherwise be a one-note role. I actually wanted Mr. Shue to kiss her. She deserves it (in fact, she deserves better – Mr. Shue is kind of a tool).

The thing is, Glee needs to work on a lot of things. And there are a million storylines that make me want to go get a sandwich (Finn/Rachel, Sam/Quinn, and for the love of God, stop having Artie say “Yo!”) But when it gets things right, I’m proud to watch. Those leather pants the girls wore last night really didn’t hurt either. Also, Grilled Cheesus, do I love Brittana. (Much more on how much I heart them here.)

p.s. I reserve the right to take back everything I just said if Ryan Murphy puts Brittany and Artie together. I’m serious, I will burn the place down.

p.p.s. Dude, Kurt had 124 unread messages? He is worse than me.

Tank Top Tuesday: Country Gals

I won’t lie, I’m not much for country music – particularly contemporary country music. I grew up in an area where a large chunk the school listened to country music with Skoal rings in their back pockets. And most of those folks wanted little to do with the nerdy little Asian girl with glasses. So, no, there are no “Nothing runs like a Deere” caps in my closet. But now, thanks to the great healers known as time and distances, I can appreciate that other people may love and enjoy country music. Sure, the only contemporary country on my iPod right now is the copy of Chely Wright’s “Lifted Off the Ground” out of lesbo solidarity. But thanks to country gals’ penchant for tight jeans and even tighter tank tops, I totally understand how many a gay gal could swoon.

Jennifer NettlesToo bad she didn’t bring along former Sugarland member and gay lady Kristen Hall for tank top support.

Carrie UnderwoodA girl, a dog and a tank top. God bless America.

Hillary ScottThank you for the tank top. Please stop making my radio station play “I Need You Now.”

Taylor SwiftI actually interviewed her a couple of years ago and she was lovely and gracious and composed. So she can spin whatever fairytale she wants in my book.

Miranda LambertWhen her set came up at Lilith Faire, I took a beer break. Instead I ended up glued to the big screen from the bar ‘cause darn it if that gal didn’t have tons of spunk.

Faith HillRemember when she told a fan not to grab her husband Tim McGraw’s junk from the stage? Good times.

Natalie MainesDude, with that haircut and that tattoo and that tank top it’s like a five-alarm gaydar fire up in here.

Gretchen WilsonRedneck women ride big-ass bikes.

Reba McEntireWristcuffs? Now they’re just taunting us.

Shania TwainWhat? I’m sorry, was I saying something about not liking country? I couldn’t remember on account of the passing out.

Hot Fuzz

So when this whole “Lip Service” business started everyone assumed Frankie’s Ruta Gedmintas would be the show’s resident lesbothrob. She was the “Shane” of the group (yes, yes – I know she’s not Shane). She did all the moody looking through her hair and randy dropping of her skinny jeans. She was the bad girl. But a funny thing happened on the way to fandom, everyone started swooning over the good girl instead. Sure, we still love us some Frankie. But bring up Detective Sergeant Sam Murray to a group of gay ladies and you’ll hear a chorus of, “Ooooooh, the hot cop.” Yes, hot cop is hot – and ridiculously so.

I’ve been trying to analyze exactly what makes Hot Cop so hot. (For science, obviously.) And what I’ve come up with is actually pretty simple. Sam is your dream girlfriend. Hot, smart, strong, accomplished, calm, confident, happy to have sex on her office desk. She is proof that good girls aren’t boring, they’re just good – at lots of really good things.

All the credit in the world must be given to out actress Heather Peace for making Hot Cop so very hot. She had taken what could have been a somewhat two-dimensional role (good, stoic cop lady) and turned her into an infinitely relatable and desirable character. As the only out cast member she brings a needed authenticity to her part. We know her. She doesn’t wear a lot of makeup. She does wear a lot of tight button-down shirts. She hasn’t got time for bullshit. She has got a shitload of swagger. She swigs beer like a fucking champion. (In real life she can apparently swing like a fucking champion, too, because she is also a jazz singer.) Wait, have I mentioned she is really hot?

I know we’re supposed to want Cat and Frankie together, I know that. And part of me does – first loves and all. But another part of me says screw that head case. Stay with the hot cop and have hot sex in the backseats of taxis forever and ever.

Thank you, Heather Peace/Hot Cop/Det. Sgt. Sam Murray. I will now make the obligatory joke about you being welcome to handcuff me and/or give me a firm frisking anytime.

Also, thanks for this. Guess it’s Naked Lady Monday after all. NSFW, obviously, clearly, very much so. You’re welcome. [Click to enlarge, which goes for all the images, you big perv.]

p.s. My friends over at Feromoon would be more than happy to help you catch up on all the Hot Cop action of “Lip Service.” Enjoy.

My Weekend Crush

I’m not a huge fan of the color pink. It has always been too conventionally girlie for me, something I associate with ruffles and not the good potato chip kind. But Pink the singer, hell yeah. In fact, I remember distinctly when she first came on the scene 10 years ago with her short shock of hot pink hair and unquestionable sexy swagger. It was an immediate, undeniable, “Whoa.” She was a girl, but not girlie. She is just shy of full-on butch, but still plenty of tough. Fun, spunky, badass. I liked her a lot, right from the start.

Over the years she has kept giving us all more and more reasons to like her. Unafraid to speak her mind and unashamed of being strong, she packs her music with great melodies and greater messages. “Dear Mr. President” is one of the most searing indictments of the Bush era out there. Sure, we all wish she played for our team, but she has never been shy about supporting our team. An outspoken advocate for GLBT rights, she was recently received the Human Rights Campaign National Dinner with the Ally for Equality Award. All that and the gal can really sing. OK, fine – those abs don’t hurt either. Heck, thank to Pink, I even for a split second considered joining a convent on the off chance that she’d be there to, um, convert me. Happy weekend, all.

Elementary, my dear Watson

You know who I have always liked (though not in that way until after 2008 and even then, more like a precocious and beloved younger sister)? Emma Watson. We haven’t talked about her new haircut because, I don’t know – war, famine, elections, fatties, vampires, tank tops, Tina Fey, British lesbians, lesbian cheerleaders, naked athletes and more tank tops. But today I feel I can ignore the topic no longer. I love Emma’s new hair. Love. It.

Sure, it took a second to get used to the new haircut. So much shortness. So much Mia Farrow circa “Rosemary’s Baby.” So much not Hermione Granger.

But it’s a wonderful representation of what makes Emma not just another Hollywood starlet (not that she was every really one, period). Sure she isn’t the first actress to crop off her hair. Natalie Portman, Cate Blanchett, Sigourney Weaver and even Demi Moore took it almost all off. But those were largely for roles. Her gesture is for herself and an act of both freedom and independence. Even if you don’t like short haircuts you have to respect her decision.

As she told Marie Claire:

“I’ve wanted to do it since I was about 16, and when Harry Potter ended in June, I just needed a change. It was quite symbolic for me. It’s very short; it was buzzed at the back and on the sides. And it’s really liberating that I can walk out without thinking about it.”

And even if you’re not a Harry Potter fan (wait, you’re not a Harry Potter fan?), you have to respect the way she has conducted herself over the years. This is a young woman who has been world famous since she was 11 and now, at age 20, has yet to enter rehab, get a DUI, flash her lady business, start a Twitter feud or get caught with “someone else’s” coke in her purse. Instead she is entering her second year at Brown, completing her time on “Harry Potter” with class and making it all look completely effortless.

She also told the magazine:

“I do things in my own way, but I’ve never felt any need to rebel. To be honest, I’ve always had far too much freedom. I had a job when I was 10. I started living on my own when I was 17 or 18. I’ve earned my own money; I’ve traveled the world. What would I rebel against?”

Sometimes, you don’t have to rage against the dying of the light. Sometimes it’s better to just enjoy and be thankful for the light while it lasts. And, Emma, in this light, with your hair like that? It hurts to look at you.