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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Ann-Margret Is a F***ing Maniac
March 16, 2015

ann-margret hold me squeeze me red dress

My most favorite thing about Ann-Margret (other than, well, everything) is that she’s the rare star whose entire career is a triumph of naive camp. Just look at her, and look at those two dancers behind her, and tell me they’re all not screaming “YASSS, ANN-MARGRET, YASSSSS!”…with their eyes.

Sure, other actresses slip into camp from time to time like it’s a luxuriously beaded chemise, but Ann-Margret is that beaded chemise, plus an abundantly thrusty sexuality I might blame on a low blood sugar, but most Americans insist is just European. Insulin and exotic are only a few letters apart, after all.

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TGIFriday the 13th, Now Here’s Betsy Palmer as Mrs. Voorhees
March 13, 2015

In the annals of great camp performances, I think Betsy Palmer’s turn as Mrs. Voorhees is the (over the)tops, and since it’s apropos of today, here she is simply killing it (literally) in Friday the 13th as one of my favorite horror movie mommie dearests this side of Vera Farmiga’s Norma Bates and Ronee Blakley in A Nightmare on Elm Street:

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TGIF! Now Here’s The Art of the Belt with Miss Dixie Carter
March 6, 2015

Today, this blog is called “Classes”, because we need to work on your technique. It’s called “the Lion”, and it’s easy, really. Ready to roar? Just remember: deep breath in, don’t be shy, and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH.

Sh*t Alexis Morell Carrington Colby Dexter Rowan Says
February 28, 2015

I had almost forgotten about “Shit Girls Say” meme craze, which is fine, because it’s not 2012, and I try to rely upon more than trite gendered observations and casual misogyny for humor. I rely upon innumerable Showgirls references instead, because I dine on sophistication. (And Doggie Chow.)

Speaking of sophistication, here’s an 8-minute montage of Alexis Carrington quotes, because even the most exhausted meme is revitalized by Joan Collins, Dynasty clips, and a glamorous yet sensible appreciation of shoulder pads.

Elizabeth Taylor’s Ash Wednesday: A Barely Topical Midweek Post
February 18, 2015

elizabeth-taylor-in-ash-wednesday-1973

Like many fair-weather Catholics, I only observe the major holidays: Christmas presents, Easter chocolates, year-round guilt and shame, and the 40 days of Lent Facebook status updates. Since I don’t have any more vices to give up this year (except for coffee and meat, which ha ha and NO), this Ash Wednesday I’ve decided to give in to forty days of daily exercise and daily blog posts. Also, since I still haven’t seen Ash Wednesday, I’m giving in to bootleg DVDs and finally ordering this most tantalizing cinemystery. I mean, I get that this is the Elizabeth Taylor plastic surgery melodrama, but this movie looks f**king bonkers, y’all:

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Happy Birthday, Madonna!
August 16, 2014

madonna girlie show like a virign.tiff

As Susan Sontag observed, “Camp is the outrageous aestheticism of Sternberg’s six American movies with Dietrich.” It’s also Madonna putting on her finest Marlene Dietrich drag and camping the hell out of a medley of “Like a Virgin” and “Falling in Love Again (Can’t Help It).” So what better way for this corner of the internet to celebra-ate the Queen of Pop’s birthday than with hydrangeas this vintage performance from The Girlie Show?

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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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One More Time, With Squealing…
August 25, 2012

The problem with taking a break from moonlighting as a highly adored, internationally famous blogger is that you constantly have a gaggle of screaming fans begging you to go back to blogging. “Oh, how we miss you! Oh, how we need you!” their gaping maws craw like sickly orphans starved of camp, wit, and the “occasional” Showgirls reference.

Naturally, I’m may be exaggerating a tad seeing as:

  1. By gaggle of screaming fans, I mean two friends.
  2. By internationally famous, I mean One of them is from England.
  3. By highly adored, I mean sometimes my mother reads this, too.

Anyways, it’s become rather clear that my public (two friends and a mother…on occasion) needs me, and who am I to refuse? So, like the above photo of Joan Crawford returning to MGM Studios to film Torch Song, I too shall come back to the old fold. (This is nothing like that whatsoever, but let’s pretend.) Or, to mix iconic-camp-moment metaphors:

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In Honor of Revenge’s Most Anticipated Return to TV, Here’s “Sh*t Hamptons Matriarchs Say”
April 4, 2012

When a stripper bludgeons a private dick to death with a tire iron, you know you’re in the presence of prime time soap opera perfection, so I’d say you should be watching Revenge if you aren’t already, but really, why bother? This supercut of Victoria Grayson’s best bon mots of bitchiness and gilded nuggets of Hamptons upper-crust c*ntery speaks for itself:

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Important Breaking News of Utmost Importance: Scissor Sisters’ Night Work Is Streaming Online!
June 25, 2010

You know what’s really, really gay in the most ferocious of ways?  This promo still for the new Scissor Sisters album, Night Work:

Camp, after all, is a queer sensibility derived from the French slang camper, which means “to pose in an exaggerated fashion”, and this photo is all about the highly stylized placement and posing of our beloved Sisters.  Of course, this photo is also about Ana Matronic’s hair.  And that double breasted jacket.  And those fetching high heels.  And Del Marquis being my favorite piece of guitar-playing, suited-up hot sex.  And the pearls, OH, the pearls!  In fact, the only thing that throws this picture off is Jake Shear’s vinyl underoos.  Girl, don’t go butchin’ my heart!

ANYWAYS, the new Scissor Sisters album, Night Work, is streaming over on MySpace, and the Sisters and producer Stuart Price have met–nay, exceeded!–my every hope of making the most gloriously gay album EVER.  Clearly this means you need to give it a listen.  Immediately.  And really, why wouldn’t you?

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