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Tuesday , December 14, 2010
nogoodforme Superlatives: Famous Losers We'd Make Out with for Weird Reasons
DON'T ASK 'CAUSE IT CAN'T BE EXPLAINED: TIMOTHY GEITHNER
I actually don't think Timothy Geithner is a loser. I'm sure he's a very smart man and I'm sure he's up to a lot of important things as U.S. Secretary of the Treasury. But one can't deny that he's pretty much the oddest jewel in Kat's collection of hypothetical makeout dudes. I mean, I don't usually go for dudes who 1. are older; 2. wear a suit to work everyday; 3. have curly hair; and 4. are tax evaders. Perhaps it's the fact that his middle name is Franz, which is something I find kind of awesome, and he is kind of nerdy, which is something I really love in a dude. But it's all very inexplicable, really. I mean, what in the world could we possibly have to talk about? Maybe we'd talk about Thailand (where he grew up partly) and maybe we'd rank on Ben Bernanke and maybe we can talk about how TurboTax can suck it? Maybe this is a sign that I read too much of The Economist? (Kat)
SWEET DREAMS (ARE MADE OF MARILYN MANSON IN A VON DUTCH TRUCKER HAT)
(I think he's hotter in the photo on the right, but it's really a toss-up.)
One time my friends and I found this book called Treacherous Love in the free bin at the farmers market. It's a Go Ask Alice-esque "diary of anonymous teenager," about a 14-year-old girl named "Jennie" who falls in love with her substitute math teacher "Mr. Johnstone" (who's "sexier than Ben Affleck," seriously). On the drive home we read the book out loud, and our favorite part was when the narrator-girl exclaims of her pedophiliac paramour: "HIS CONCEPTS ARE SO WONDROUS!"
So, the way I feel about Marilyn Manson is like the exact opposite of how "Jennie" feels about "Mr. Johnstone." I do not find Marilyn Manson's concepts to be so wondrous. In fact, one time in the midst of an MM-focused kitchen-table chat with my ex-roommate, I actually shouted the words "HIS IDEAS ARE SO BORING!", and then my roommate made fun of me a lot, which I deserved.
But, truly: Marilyn Manson is so goddamn boring, in an amazing way. It fascinates me that someone can build their entire persona on Satan-lovin' and sexual deviance and rampant drug use and still come out totally dull. He's written some catchy tunes that are real fun to jog to, but beyond that I have zero use for Marilyn Manson, except for this weird thing of wishing I could tongue-kiss with him for just a little bit. I don't want to spend all night drinking absinthe in his mansion in Chatsworth, blowing lines off of the femur of a human skeleton, shaving his eyebrows while listening to Fiona Apple records. Ideally what would happen is I'd be hanging out somewhere and Marilyn Manson would show up and then we'd suck face for no less than five but no more than ten minutes, and then he'd leave and I'd brush my hands against each other with the sweet satisfaction of having crossed one more item of my lifelong "To Do" list. That's all.
I can't explain it, really. If I think hard, I can intellectually recognize that Marilyn Manson is a very unsavory-looking human, but that's got nothing to do with my wanting badly to swap spit with him. In that feature on Buddyhead LA Weekly ran a while back, Travis Keller told a story about going to hang out at Marilyn Manson's house on Christmas Eve and being so grossed out by MM answering the door in a Von Dutch trucker hat and a stain-covered t-shirt. "That actually sounds kinda hot," I mumbled to myself as I read the article, chewing on the end of my bendy straw and negating everything I believe in. It felt good. Imagine if you only ever wanted to make out with dudes who look like John Krasinski or James Franco in Pineapple Express or James Taylor in 1971? Who'd be the boring one then? (Liz)
WANTING: A ONE-WAY TICKET TO TOMMYLAND
Once, when I was in high school, I fell asleep, and, as I tend to do: I dreamed something. I had a "Tommy Lee dream." Surprisingly, It was not a sex dream. It was a love dream. It was the greatest dream I ever had. I am fully confident that I will never know such love again. I am fully confident that a love so grand, as Tommy Lee and I's in my dream that time, cannot exist in real life. It was the love that dreams are made of.
In my dream, Tommy Lee and I were both cashiers at the supermarket in the strip mall nearest to both of the two houses I grew up in. In my life, that supermarket has been: Miracle Food Mart, Ultra-Mart, one other one, Dominion, and now it is probably "Metro," as all Dominions are. My dream took place during "one other one"-era that supermarket. The plot of the dream was that Tommy Lee and I worked at perpendicular check-out lines, and our respective abilities to hold down our respective "forts" were disrupted by the intensity of our respective love for each respective other.
"I shall NOT ring through your bunches of bananas or your Honey Bunches of Oats, Customers!" thought my teenage dream self. "I must go over to Tommy Lee's cash, where I will be held by him, and where I will whisper sweet nothings into his multiply-pierced ear!" And Tommy Lee reciprocated. So dearly, he loved me too. I arose entirely smitten, and the ferocity of my love has never dimmed nor waned.
Actually, that's a lie. It waned once, in October '07, at St. Mark's Bookshop, where I leafed through his autobiography, Tommyland, and came upon a passage wherein he likened a particular component of the female anatomy to Gummi Bears (YOU DO THE MATH). Gross!!!!!! So gross, in fact, that I vowed, I swore, I would never love Tommy Lee again. But then I woke up the next morning, right back where I started: in love with Tommy Lee. Who woulda thunk it? Tommy Lee is the great love of Laura Jane Faulds' life. I've always wanted to end up with another "artiste," and Tommy Lee's the juice "sexy geniuses" are made of. I am immensely supportive of ALL Tommy's creative endeavors, even Rock Star: Supernova, EVEN Tommy Lee Goes to College. I watched both programs religiously. Semi-religiously.
Oh yeah, and have you heard? Dude's hung like a goddamned horse. (Laura Jane)
Tags: cocaine, dreams, Fiona Apple, Gummi Bears, James Franco, James Taylor, Marilyn Manson, sexier than Ben Affleck, sexy geniuses, skeletons, Tommy Lee, Tommy Lee dreams, Tommy Lee Goes to College, Treacherous Love, wondrous concepts
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