Let’s Not Mention the Tonys.

One so deplores the insistence on winning! As if it were bounceyball. Or tightpantsball. To take our minds off The Book of Mormon winning everything in sight (hello! no surprise) and Warhorse being Best Play (compared to what? How come The Normal Heart was Best Revival? Has it been produced on Broadway before? I think not. Of course it’s dreadful writing, Kramer can’t write for shit, but was effective agit-prop for its time and is just the kind of tripe the Tony voters love to vote for—but that’s not why we’re here. Let’s talk about important stuff. Stuff that concerns real Americans like you and… well, other people. What is this insistence the theatre is somehow gay? Where did that come from? Harvey Fierstein? Yes, it involves a certain amount of prancing about in tights or sailor suits but, I ask you, what’s gay about that? It could be a Republican fund raiser almost anywhere. Anyhow, that’s not why we’re here. We don’t have to talk about the Tonys. Which is just as well because no one here watched it. So if Cheyenne Jackson whipped out his whanger and dick-slapped Neil Patrick Harris (Pause) none of us would know. Because none of us watched it. And I think that’s a good thing. As Beijing goes Rogers & Hammerstein all the time America goes Huh?).

So. In the spirit of not mentioning the Tonys I interrupt an important game of A Monster Ate My Homework to bring you this important rapture update.

To let him know he did at least get halfway home, Jesus gave Harold Camping a stroke. Another way of saying STFU and leave this to me, bitch. Undeterred, Camping is still talking, though no one can understand what he says.

In other news, HRH enjoys a nice gin and Dubonnet with Mike, a favored scottish lesbian. The queen is seen balancing a plate on her lap. An accomplishment that has taken years for her to learn and which is as yet unmatched by any of the other royals who, when asked to walk and chew gum, tend to fall down.

For resident fashionistas (you know who you are) I would ask you to consider Her Majesty’s ensemble de power tools. I think the pearls are a nice touch. They bring an understated femininity to the quilted jacket. Anne, aka the Princess Royal, does her hair. Pretty. Very Donna Reed. I don’t know who does Mike’s.


I was wasted at Pride during the Tonys, getting hit on by dudes calling me a “hot daddy”, which is an interesting turn in my life.

@karen marie has her eyes tight shut: Some Geek wasn’t paying attention to the submitted draft…

If HRH KFC would like to submit, I will dominate update.

The Tonys were on at Casa RML until “The Killing” started at AMC. I did manage to catch the last few minutes of The Game.

I just can’t watch NPH anymore now that I’ve seen his previous and current homes, and I’m fully informed on his and his partner’s atrocious decorating “taste.” Any minute now, they could be arrested for crimes against earth tones. If our A-list gayz with limitless resources don’t have the sense to hire design professionals, what hope do the rest of us have?

Utter TJ: any Latin scholars in the house? We want to translate a tagline of sorts:

Fail beautifully, then drink

We currently have this as:

Deficio pulchre, tunc imbibo

This will go on an 8 oz steel hip flask emblazoned with the theater’s logo, as only befits a proper and appropriate theatrical marketing gimmick.

@¡Andrew!: Comes from having been born and raised in *cough* Albuquerque.

@IanJ: In Latin, the verb usually comes last, so I would switch it to Pulchre deficio.

@Tommmcatt Be Fat, And That Be That: I saw Superior Donuts at the Geffen last night and recommend it.

Just watching it now.

The wondrous Kander and Ebb blow the pikers out of the field with The Scottsboro Boys. Grand classic Broadway. Bravo! And Stroman. Brava!

Then much crap till Jackman claimed NPH as his bitch. The only way it could have been better was if they’d been wearing sweaty wrestling singlets and Hugh slammed his boy to the floor. Makin him beg. Daddy please! Oh yeah? What do you want, boy? You want this? My hard throbbing… ? OK Let’s say there was a Daddy/son thing goin on. Wrestlin for top. Which is a musical comedy theme.

What? Oh. Right.

Leo Norbert Butts? Wow. (Is that his name?) Dance it big guy! Show em how it’s done!

Sutton Foster held it together till she had to say goodbye to her dresser and then she lost it. I understand this. We all love our dressers. They have handled our underwear, got rid of the two show day stains and been there to console us when our boyfriends left us for their boyfriends.

Frances McDormand was fine and Trey Parker is so gay. Gay gay gay. Plus:

Company is Sondheim’s best show and as Neil made clear BOBBY IS GAY!!!! Like no one ever noticed before that the hero is a HOMO. Why does this cause Sondheim such tsurrus? Is he, mayhap, ashamed??? Like perhaps Harold Prince???

And Warhorse. Fabtastic. (Note to self: involve more giant puppets operated by fresh-faced athletic boys in plays)

Also, that putrid piece of Strine putrescence about drag queens in deserts looked as putrid as did the putrid clothes which somehow got some award as the evening went on.

The Tonys are perfect. How the world could be if we could get rid of Republicans.

Reading this over I’m just curious, is there some over-arching theme? A gay-centric vibe? I repudiate this as a gross distortion of what Broadway is all about. Which is.. sensation! Excitement! Touch step pivot step ball change developé…

WTF? Kissinger is still alive? Or is that his Disney Rat-animated corpse engaging in conversation with Colbert?

And it must be a corpse, judging by the amount of pancake and powder that Comedy Central’s makeup folks spackled on his face.

ADD: Stop drooling and do something about that cold sore on your lower lip, you stuttering piece of shit. Get thee to an International Human Rights Tribunal.

Kissinger LiveBlogging, Part Deux:

Mao was “responsible for the death of millions” and was “sarcastic” and “spoke in aphorism”?

Look in the fucking mirror, asshat!

P.S. This thread is one of those threads that sums up why I love you Stinquers. Existential angst by teh gheyz, requests for assistance and assistance in Latin translation, and NPH/ABQ trash talking, all in less than 20 comments below the time-stamp (so to speak). All we need are some recipes, analysis of our mother-issues, and a reference to Foucault and we’d be complete.

@SanFranLefty: How about Dodgers pitching, speaking of trash?

@Dodgerblue: The Giants are off tonight, so that my blood pressure can recover and I can watch reruns of Sex and the City and not worry about Matt Cain and Freddy Sanchez.

@Dodgerblue: I recall thinking at five fucking thirty this AM when I got up to write a memo thinking that Timmy got shelled after hearing the ESPN Radio report.

@SanFranLefty: Martini? Tanqueray or “the good stuff”?

@Benedick HRH KFC: “And the prize for Criticism goes to . . . “

@SanFranLefty: And yet, twenty-four hours after the fact, nary a mention of LeBron.

@redmanlaw: I’m a cheap date, so a good martini for me is two shots off of a frozen bottle of Smirnoff and a slice of cucumber or an olive, no vermouth or ice to ruin things or water it down.

@nojo: Fuck LeBron. And file him under Department of Karma is a Fucking Bitch and Shut Your Motherfucking Lazy Mouth Up Already.

Meanwhile, Speaking of Karma is a Fucking Bitch: Man dies while raping elderly South Texas woman, all I can say is that Hell just readied a room.

@SanFranLefty: /writes down recipe for future SF/SF steenk up

@redmanlaw: Dude, it’s so easy/I’m so easy. Just think: What would a vodka-lover on a desert island need and want? Answer: Vodka and a freezer.
Everything else quickly becomes superfluous.

I’ll settle for PBR if someone else is buying.

@nojo: “Trees Lounge”, the directorial debut* of Steve Buscemi, features PBR prominently.

*If I recall Ebert’s tweet that recommended it correctly. Since I only got half way through, I sure as hell ain’t checking IMDB.

@nojo: I smacked him via FB when there were still 11 seconds left on the clock, for these very same reasons.

@Mistress Cynica and IanJ: Where can we order these Latin grammatically correct flasks, now that they are featured in today’s Stinquer-tweet?
And, more importantly, is the theatre willing to cross-market with Stinque? I can’t speak for management but I would think that plays about homicidal nuns would be right up our alley. And vice versa.

@Nabisco: My old fishing buddy (the one I lost to Rush Limbaugh) once bought a Toyota pick up truck load of PBR that had gotten warm in storage at a deep discount. We drank that skunky whizz from spring well into the fall (it was a lot of beer). God, that shit was awful but it fueled a lot of fishing trips. I still remember the sight of him buzzed in his front yard proudly showing off his truck full of beer.

@redmanlaw: PBR is obviously best procured in large, steeply discounted amounts. Back in college on Rocky Top, myself and four others hatched a scheme to get a bunch of PBR for free. One of the others worked at the campus newspaper. He had the goods on a promotion a local beer distributor was running where they hid an empty keg of PBR some where on campus and each week the paper printed a clue as to its whereabouts. They hoped a frat would find it and invite a sorority to a bar party where they both would drink up a shitload of free PBR as the prize for finding the keg. I guess the distributor hoped to generate a bunch of goodwill and get these folks off their miller lite addiction and get them hooked on PBR forever. The U of Rocky Top also let cigarette companies give away free 5 packs of cigs to anyone who could inhale on campus too. The U of Rocky Top has since banned all those harmful give aways now in favor of credit card promotions which are much safer for the first 30 days. We let the contest go on for 3 whole weeks before our friend at the paper clued us in and we went and got the keg. We won more beer than we could drink in a month and that’s saying a lot. The distributor asked us which sorority we wanted to invite to the free PBR party. We picked the one with the most chicks from our high school. They showed up but soon left after they figured out we only had free PBR and no money, bmws, or rich fathers, leaving us with more PBR than we could drink in a month which was well worth it at the time. Right now there are 7 PBRs in my fridge. I suggest putting a can of PBR in the freezer while you drink two or three busch lites or miller high life lites and then drinking the PBR real fast. It makes your other beers last longer. Kinda like hamburger helper.

@jwmcsame: There was a run on Lowenbrau at my dorm one year. Everybody stocked up, since it was really cheap.

And only then, after bottles lined everybody’s walls, did everybody discover the awful truth: Lowenbrau tastes like shit.

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