>Technically, this part of the internet has it’s birthday on January 15th, but here’s the 2005 review as seen from December 30th. (I’m probably going to be drunk on plum wine on New Year’s Eve.)
January: Astonishment at the A380; the beginning of a long obsession with analysing lyrics (starting with the double entendre heavy “It Hurts”); and a really long post about my late father.
February: Debauchery in Palm Springs; Melodifestivalen 2005 manages to confuse the living daylights out of my non-Swedish speaking self; and the beginning of my 180 degree turn on La Podolskaya and her grammatically incorrect but well-intended song about violence in American schools.
March: The delightfully trippy Spanish National Final and Semi-Final yields six interesting women: three of them are Phyllis Diller impersonators singing about husbands obsessed with cyberporn, the other three are a bunch of tone deaf hags who claim that the Sun has sound and screech about witchcraft. In my world, the Diller clones win, but it isn’t my world…yet (and don’t get me started on omnisexual “Don” Carlos Lozano); In another cruel twist of Eurovision fate, Stenchmark and his daft song about Las Vegas beat out Nanne’s tour-de-force performance of “Håll om mig”; I had the first of many crackpot ideas about breaking up the US airlines; The ill-fated West Side Stadium push pissed me off.
April: Remember when the post-mortems were one paragraph long? How times have changed. Not much happened in April, all the national finals are over and it’s rainy.
May: I went to the plastic surgeon and somehow still went ahead with the tummy tuck despite the trashy people in the waiting room; Sensenbrenner can go rot in hell, mk. I; the post-mortems take a decidedly carnal turn; ESC 2005’s Qualifying Round makes me wonder just what does Europe see in two Latvian rentboys with guitars and funny voices; However, the Final at least gives us a win by Ada Nicodemou’s Swedish cousin and a bunch of pervy referrals to this site; And the start of my mental breakdown as the recovery from hell commences.
June: FYI, I don’t like John Patrick Shanley; I take some solace that I’m not the only one losing their ever-loving mind in June; Just what causes racism when it comes to picking sexual partners? And are we hard-wired for it?; Yahoo’s Lesbian love-making group apparently likes my Norman Rockwell-esque fantasy for Pride; Spain gets gay marriage, the US gets LOGO…I’m not complaining about either but if that isn’t an indicator of how slow things move in the US…
July: The Bold & The Beautiful succeeds in turning me out; The 200th post is an admittingly self-indulgent interview; FYI, Weathermen are fame whores; My mother’s birthday trip to New York with a bunch of relatives sends me straight over to Splash with guest star Matthew Rush.
August: Apparently in 2038 I’m a father who got pregnant and a resident of new gay mecca Biloxi, Mississippi; By the way, we have President Butch in our future; the first appearance of Splash’s (in)famous Alex; my hometown lets me down once again; and a picture is all I have to say about Hurricane Katrina.
September: The Kraynak/Wright murder brings out my inner tinhat; For several weeks in September, I actually believed that Brian Ellner was earnest and not an opportunist; In case you didn’t know already, I hate Michael Bloomberg, but I love Herb Kohl; Ah, La Kilgore, you were funny. I’ll make sure to keep an eye out for you the next time I’m at a Virginia glory hole; Give to charity, just not Habitat for Humanity after their daft stunt at Rockefeller Plaza.
October: I love Philadelphia and one-letter psuedonyms; I see the light in respect to Brian Ellner, and call Jonathan Capehart out–and he responds no less; Noah’s Arc makes me cry; Eric Braate’s departure from Milwaukee’s airwaves leaves a void in the most handsome man on Milwaukee television department.
November: Stephen & I go drinking and heckle lap dancers; My own version of “Vote or Die;” RIP Kitchen Confidential (and apparently Reunion and Killer Instinct as well); I hate Tyler Perry even more than I dislike John Patrick Shanley; Q Television comes to New York with it’s chaotic self and makes me wonder when I’m going to get my own damn show; Sensenbrenner can rot in hell, mk. III; What do you do when you’re in Wisconsin without a car? You watch the Thanksgiving Day parade; The Hoan Bridge story still cracks me up.