Crack. But Not Smut.

So I'm sitting on my spinny chair, spinning of course, and watching The Daily Show as I usually do. And here are two men who in theory are old enough to be my father, Jon Stewart and Willem Dafoe. 41 and 48 years old, respectively. And I'm thinking, "Gosh, those are two attractive men, right there." Or something to that effect, because I'm not sure my mind says "gosh" or "attractive men." Now, that's not odd, is it? I hope not. Eh, I don't really care.

Jazz On Tap is tomorrow, and you know, I never understood that title for the thing. Jazz On Tap. Does it mean jazz, above or on top of tap? Does it mean jazz in a keg? Does it mean jazz in tappy shoes? Or does it mean a pungently catty atmosphere where every group has a cheering section and glares are exchanged spitfire for no reason other than the spirit of the thing? It's a ghastly monster of a performance, each show around three hours long. Which is why I'm thankful to have been in the show last year and this year, instead of an audience member like the year before last, when during the second hour I was seriously contemplating escape or suicide.

Which isn't to say that it's not fun to be in it. I just wouldn't wish watching the whole thing through on anybody.

If the OC is "Obviously Crack," then OC fanfiction is...also crack. How much respect for me would you lose if I told you I've been reading a brilliant Ryan/Seth slash piece? It's called The Song Sings Itself, by my internet pal KC. It's not smut, I swear, not at all. It really is great writing. Every now and then you come across one of those. And then you come across these, and...yeah. Crack. Hilarious, hilarious crack.

I have to cut it short folks, another sexy old man is on TV. Mmm, Viggo.

If it makes you feel any better, Sondre Lerche is 21, and truly the most adorable thing I've seen in a while. Watch the video for "Two Way Monologue." Adorable.

2004-03-04 @ 11:40 p.m.

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