Ewan McGregor continuing to age like fine wine is extra distracting as I just rewatched The Pillow Book and know what is in those trousers.

I mean, it’s great you have progressive politics. That doesn’t preclude you from being an asshole.

I was really on one this week.

In honor of rewatching Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, I had a “Heavy Boobs” Double Feature tonight with Big Boobs Buster and Vixen.

In honor of Friday the 13th, here is my very scientific (re: not remotely) ranking of the Friday the 13th Series. First up, the ones I like: Part II Part VI: Jason Lives Part III Friday the 13th (1980) Freddy vs. Jason Jason Goes to Hell: The Final Friday The Final Chapter

I’m gonna give it to you straight about Jason. His body was never recovered from the lake after he drowned. And if you listen to the old-timers in town, they’ll tell you he’s still out there...watching... thirsty for young blood. #haunteddavidart #supportqueerartists #queerart #fridaythe13th

I sent my first query letter today. The journey begins.

Ben Appel should be denied membership into the gay cabal and no self-respecting homo should date his self-loathing ass.

The face of one who has never felt remorse no matter how many times he kicks me in the face.

Despite being a massive fan of Pieces, I had never seen any other movies by Juan Piquer Simón. I decided to remedy that by watching the gory and ridiculous Slugs.

It’s weird for a gay influencer to advocate for putting on straight man drag to seduce truckers. Like “Come to my circuit party. Support my unexamined internalized homophobia.”

Tell me, my child, of how you merely adopted Louisiana and were not born into it, molded by it. Remy LeBeau and the narrator from the first Gabriel Knight game read this and said, “Too much.”

Texas is disgusting. Conservatives willingly support pedophiles and apparently are OK just handing their children over to them. But then they ban drag in public which is a road to banning trans people from public.

If I like you, I note your scent like a wolf.

I imagine my bipolar disorder is this hoary 80s sitcom where I will be standing in my living room set, talking about how calm things have been and I hope nothing disrupts that. Then a manic phase busts though the door and yells its catchphrase, “What’s cracking, Jackson?” Or something.

I won’t stand for Blanche Devereaux slander. Stop using her as a stand-in when making fun of Lindsey Graham.

Pornography/erotica is a genre like any other. Puritanical thought, from Christians to tender queers, want us to to feel guilty to the point that we have to quantify great works in that genre as something else. Horror movies can make us scared. Why is it wrong if porn makes us horny?

I would believe in God again if Republicans started dropping dead of heart attacks from cold plunging after amphetamine use.

Didn’t realize some BlueSky users were salty about Threads users. Meanwhile, I get actual engagement over there, and I can see the posts of the people I follow instead of a bunch of randos. But there are dicks here. So in all things: balance.

2026 basically

Morning.

I never even celebrated Mardi Gras after childhood when I lived in Louisiana, but I still desperately want the cake.

RIP Robert Duvall

Lost sleep falling down the rabbit hole of the Savory Girl Instagram chick’s MAGA secret and which accent she is faking. Sorry,

My morning.

I should just be writing gay Gothic Romance in a remote, unknown location and only corresponding with people via letter. That is today’s lesson.

Wuthering Heights was pretty disappointing even with my fairly low expectations.

Pretty not great Valentine’s Day, but I have a supper club to attend tonight and I am lying in bed reading Perfume: The Story of a Murderer with a face mask until then.

Happy Valentine’s Day! Hope Circuit Twink Cupid Karl Urban helps you find true love!

Pillion really hit me. I have trouble objectively talking about it.

The only real hope I have for the ‘28 election is that the first time I see a white homo in a “New Day with Newsom” shirt, I’ll get so mad I just drop dead.

Never really got into Dawson’s Creek, but I love The Rules of Attraction. RIP, James Van Der Beek.

“We saw you from across the bar and really dig your vibe.”

Ok, your boy is starting to query this week. Please pray to the deity of your choosing for me because I am not picky.

My novel is perhaps charitably described as what would happen if Gregg Araki wrote and directed Practical Magic.

I feel so out of time these days. The things that are intrinsic to my being are considered outdated and puerile. In my day, we struggled to find Georges Bataille books. Now they are everywhere, but either no one reads them or his writings on the sex/death drive have been rejected.

First day of February. New art to help far down those #SundayScaries. #haunteddavidart #horrorbeefcake #supportqueerartists #queerart #blackhistorymonth #manofcolor #BLM #spellcasting #magiccircle #summoning

*Funny how secrets travel* I'm sure you noticed that girl. Good looking blonde. *A blond belief beyond. No return, no return* Her name is Alice. I swear, I love that girl to death. *And the fist of love. Over your head* And your name? What the fuck is your name?! #LostHighway #DavidLynch #DavidBowie

I am such a fan of Blood for Dracula that I set a pretty steamy scene in my novel during a theatrical screening of it. I finally got to see it in a theater myself tonight, but it was decidedly less steamy because my characters lead much more interesting lives.

The education system has failed. Yet again.

Ok, The Odyssey is not a historical document, Helen of Troy was not a real person, and archeologists can’t even prove a war happened in Troy. Whining about Lupita Nyong'o’s casting makes you as big of a dork as someone debating Star Wars actors. And, you know, also probably a racist.

Nevermind the jobs you had, tell me 5 classes you took in college: -Existentialism in Literature and Film -Major Figures: Samuel Beckett -The Serial Killer and the Female Victim -Metatextuality in Literature and Film -Queer Lifestyles in the Media

The horrors persist and somehow so do I.

Goodnight to the brilliant and beloved Catherine O’Hara, whose presence brought so much joy to our screens. Here she is giving one of her scene-stealing performances as Gail, the Mister Softee vendor, in Martin Scorsese's AFTER HOURS (1985). ❤️

gays should get to leave work early today to mourn and binge Schitts Creek

That monologue changed my life 🫶 rip to a queen

Catherine O’Hara didn’t steal scenes she just showed up and ownership automatically defaulted to her

I am in shock that we have lost this funny, talented person. R.I.P., Catherine O’Hara.

I really enjoyed the overripe, horny Biblical film as an atheist homosexual.