but what does it matter? Tha ladies of The L Word left their mark on me tonight, and my vocal chords are still sore from screaming like a bisexual fourteen-year-old girl from 9-10pm. Wow… After watching the last six minutes of the NCAA women’s basketball game between LSU and Tennessee, I found it hard to believe the lesbian energy could climb any higher, but Showtime proved me wrong. Watching the sultry French seductress and her breathy, carnivorous way of asking the blond, horse-faced lady out on a date, and the sweaty, jail-cell mutual masturbation between the museum curator and her sexy architect partner-in-adultery, I finally realized what I had wished Queer As Folk would be when I watched that first episode of the British series on DVD during the hot, sticky summer of 2001.
Pure sex, plain and simple, with some humorous elements, such as the hairdo of the drag king when in woman form. In drag, she sported a black pompadour, while every day she sported a blond pompadour that continued all the way down her back. It’s the only way to describe it, and it was magical.
Now that I have every cable channel ever, I plan to be watching even more TV than usual while also taking on the new initiative of pursuing meaninful, creative pursuits and eliminating such time-wasters as shopping, drinking, and playing on the Internet. And I’m going to get more sleep too. We’ll see how that goes.