Feb. 15th, 2011

All those things that I didn't talk about yesterday? Yeah. Totes gonna talk about all of that today!

So, first some bitching and kvetching! You're excited. I can tell. *g*

I cannot be the only one COMPLETELY annoyed with authors who seem incapable of determining what rating to assign to their own writing, right? I mean, really, "PG/NC-17" tells me NOTHING about what I can expect from your story!!! Neither does some made up rating like PG-15. WTF is that even??? There are entire WORLDS of difference between a PG story and one that's NC-17. Speaking of, if you tag your fic as NC-17, someone sure as hell better be getting fucked. I will be most annoyed with you and will probably never read anything you write again if you tell my your story is NC-17 and I read it to find that there's no actual sex anywhere on the page.

Also, I will totally judge you, unkindly, if you cannot figure out how to properly write and format a heading. Seriously, this is not rocket science, people. And if your summary is a page long? Well then may I suggest you grab a dictionary and actually look up the word "summary."

*deep breaths* Well, I certainly feel better about all that. :D

Ok, let's talk about Lady Gaga. I think y'all know that I'm a fan. No, like, really a HUGE fan. I still maintain that Gaga's Fame Monster tour is like in my top 3 all time favorite concert experiences. I think Bad Romance is brilliant! I think her videos are amazing. I love me some Gaga! So I was definitely predisposed to pretty much love whatever new music she put out. Until she started hyping the shit outa it. By the time Born This Way was released this week, my expectations were like stratospherically high based on all of the hype coming primarily from Gaga herself. This is supposed to be THE definitive gay anthem, after all.

When the lyrics leaked a few weeks ago, I put aside my initial OMG THESE ARE REALLY OFFENSIVE cringe, and decided I'd reserve judgment until I heard the song. The song was, after all, supposed to completely blow my fucking mind, so maybe I would be able to forget that she sings about me being from "chola descent" or about being "Orient made." (Oh, gods, so much NO!)

Then I heard the song. And, well, aside from thinking it all sounded really damn familiar, I was decidedly underwhelmed. Sure, it's catchy. So was Express Yourself. And I'm certain it will play great to a live audience -- lots of dancing and fist pumping and all. But, come on, this was supposed to be GAME CHANGING. She told us it was going to be the best thing ever!!! Instead it's just another derivative, catchy pop tune. If it hadn't been so damn over-hyped I probably could have even liked it. Instead I'm just MEH about it. And, also, more than a little bit offended by those lyrics now that my mind is sadly NOT blown. (I'm not even going to get into what I think about her partnering with motherfucking Target of all places, and the fact that she is apparently not getting called on that by anyone. *rage*)

So, you know, when Lady Gaga shows up to the Grammys in a plastic egg and hatches on stage to sing a song that has fallen far short of all the self-promotion, I find myself being more annoyed than entertained. Surely this defeats the purpose of the plastic egg and alien shoulder implants. :/

Ok, so apparently I had things to say about that. This has turned into considerable more bitching and kvetching than I had anticipated, so I'm going to put all the awesome stuff and pictures of pretty boys in another post. Pictures of pretty boys! Now THAT I know y'all can get excited about! *g*

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jessipsaloquitur

April 2011

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