I spent a lot of this today listening to Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond and thinking about Flicker and how I think that some point I have to work the song into the narrative, hopefully in the most crushing and painful and sweet way possible. Of course, certain parties would argue listening to the song at all is crushing and painful. But since, like my vagina, I wear red chucks and a Mets cap, their pain means little to me. (If you don’t get the reference, for Christ’s sake, go fill a flask and go to a production of the Vagina Monologues already!)
But while I was doing that, I was also heavily image-trolling — ready for your intermittent dose of dumb?
This time is super special because it has a dance-off theme, and if you have never seen the atrocity that is Pants Off Dance Off on Fuse.tv which — my hand to God, I could not make this shit up — was hosted by Stephanie Tanner yes that Stephanie Tanner, this cannot possibly be as funny to you as it is to me, Serial Karma, Lyra Sena, and Veredus.
(In our defense re: the Pants Off Dance Off shenaniganing, it was like, 4 a.m. and our options were either to go back to watching what we all agreed was a boring gay porn docudrama or watch in baffled horror as Jodie freakin’ Sweetin’ introduced ugly crazy people dancing to bad music as they stripped — on cable.)