This Week In: Accomplishments
February 20, 2016

notes on a scandal gold star

You might not know this about me, but Judi Dench in Notes on a Scandal and I are basically the same person. For one thing, we are both aging spinsters with huge lesbian crushes on Cate Blanchett. More notably, though, we both like giving gold stars to life’s accomplishments, and those accomplishments could be anything.

For example, this could’ve been the week you got $500 off a lap dance and bought yourself that dress you’ve always wanted from Versayce, which is in The Forum. Maybe you remembered to floss each night, or moisturize, or perhaps it had to be enough to just show up to work each day and not “accidentally” run your hand through Cate Blanchett’s hair again.

My point is that I don’t know your life, and you don’t know mine, but I do know that this week my accomplishments include being discovered through this sophisticated gem of a search engine term:

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Bonne Anniversaire, Blog; or, Welcome to the Seven Year Itch
February 3, 2016

 

blog birthday cake seven year itch

Maybe it’s just me, but birthdays are a bit of a weird thing, and blog birthdays weirder still. I’m a sucker for the sentiment, but often at a loss for what to do with them. In years past, I’ve tried to be pithy about it, but these days pithy feels frivolous and deflective, so please pardon me while I interrupt our irregularly scheduled programming for a little sentimental reflection. Think of this as a fresh start, a (re)introduction.

Hello, this is Nobody Puts Baby in a Horner, and I’m a blogoholic.

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I’m Concerned About This Search Engine Term, You Guys
March 2, 2015

search terms

Sure, I’m always interested to see what drives traffic to this little corner of the internet, and I don’t mean to be a mom about anybody’s internet privileges, but I’m concerned about this search engine term, you guys. Feeling blue-curious about Dr. Manhattan’s atomic todger? Fine. Desperate to find a mediocre song in a manipulative movie trailer? Okay! But “im nobodys back up plan” (sic)? Please stop surfing the internet and hide the sharp objects, because yikes!

Are you looking for answers because you’re worried you’re not the backup plan…for anybody…and you found your way here? Were you hunting for fodder for your single-and-“loving”-it Pinterest board, but you still ended up at this post, because abs, maybe? Or perhaps this picture:

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Cheers, Queers! It’s Been Six Years!
February 3, 2015

showgirls1

Can you believe it’s been six years since I started this blog? Where does the time go? What do the next six years have in store? And does this mean my blog’s getting to old for that whorey look? Well, this blog ain’t called “Questions”, but since I rhetorically asked, answers are after the jump:

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Notes on a Few Things, Notably Susan Sontag’s “Notes on ‘Camp'”
July 7, 2013

possessed-002

Should Joan Crawford’s face not say enough, why yes, I haven’t quite been myself lately.

See, for quite some time, I’ve been thinking about how–save for the infrequent post here or there–I’ve really been a terrible mother to this blog. Simply terrible. Like Annette Bening in Running With ‘Command X’, or Faye Dunaway in Tina-Bring-Me-The-Axe.Tumblr.Com. Oh, the guilt! Oh, the shame. It’s crippling stuff, darling.

More importantly, though, I recently came to a most important decision that a few small (or very big, depending upon the view) life changes just had to be made. Needless to say, I’ve found myself with a bit more time on my hands.

Sure, I’m no sissy when it comes to idle hands (I’m just a sissy all around), but I knew I needed something to do. Knitting isn’t apropos during a heat advisory, and I’ve seen Candy Crush Saga ruin people’s lives. (Seriously, that game is like a less gauche meth addiction. Now please excuse me while I clear all the jelly.)

Anyways, as I see it, there only ever was one choice: get back to this blog, and get back to it for good. Because writing it has always brought me happiness like white diamonds luck to Elizabeth Taylor. And because even if I don’t personally know you, you’ve found your way here by some shared interest, and that’s something that matters. I love this blog, and I love y’all, too.

(As for those here by Google search gone horribly, horribly wrong? I’m sorry. This is not the dick GIFs blog  you’re looking for.)

Now, about Susan Sontag’s “Notes on Camp”:

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Notes of Relevance on Nobody Puts Baby in a Horner’s New Blog Order
April 1, 2011

As I’ve spent a considerable and sufficient amount of time away from properly and consistently tending to this little corner of the internet, and as said considerable and sufficient absence has made me realize has made me realize I must recommit to said little corner of the internet, the following changes shall be enacted in Nobody Puts Baby in a Horner’s bold new era of blogging recommitment:

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Rejoice! Nobody Puts Baby in a Horner Is Back in Blog Action!
October 22, 2010

Ladies and ladyboys and the few yet faithful, wipe away your tears of boredom and put on your favorite pair of howlin’ pants, because we (and by we, I mean me) are back in blog action, and this time it’s personal.  Or, at the very least, with greater posting frequency.  And more restraint with the incessant Showgirls references.

Haha, just kidding!  I WILL NEVER STOP WITH THE INCESSANT SHOWGIRLS REFERENCES.

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In Honor of Nobody Puts Baby in a Horner’s First Birthday, a Few Words From Your Captain
February 3, 2010

Why yes, there is a reason this corner of the internet’s feeling so fancy today:

I know, I know.  It might surprise you to know, but Nobody Puts Baby in a Horner began a year ago today, even more surprising is that those early posts were about a hodge podge of things like the world’s greatest condiment, a movie about a man that ejaculates fire, a banana monster, the dazzling directorial debut of Showgirl‘s Rena Riffel, a music video that was ostensibly filmed inside my head, my favorite Joan Crawford movie, the fact that she wears glasses in said movie, the increasingly ridiculous task of reviewing every track off U2’s No Line on the Horizon in Haiku, that one time Lindsay Lohan tried to sell us outfits adorned with anal beads, and that other time I learned to stop worrying and love Lady Gaga’s (gay) bomb.

On second thought, that all sounds pretty par for the course around here, so scratch that.

My point is that it might have been a long a curious journey involving frequent over-caffeination and the constant threat of carpal tunnel to get us where we are today, and I thank you for coming along for the ride, my dears.  Here’s hoping we continue to ride this crazy train together long into the sunset.

Now let’s all celebrate with some ice cream cake:

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