One of the most powerful and transformative human emotions – besides love and that little adorable hot head, anger – is humor. To laugh, in the face of whatever adversity faces us is a way to exert power over all that vexes, tests, burdens and otherwise pisses us the fuck off. In the United States, our racial history has been one pocked – screw that, cratered – with inequality, brutality and good old-fashioned hate. So during this Black History Month, besides appreciation, acknowledgment, atonement, et al I encourage everyone to laugh. Not at our often ugly history and too often tense racial relations today, but with or common understanding that even in 2014 we’ve got a long way to go, baby. Also, Jesus fuck, this skit is funny. And, it features Sasheer Zamata– the first black female SNL cast member in six years. I want Sasheer and Kate McKinnon in all the sketches. ALL THE SKETCHES.

I have not seen "The Lego Movie" or "Frozen" yet this winter, which gives you an idea of the severely behind I am on basically, you know, life. (This post if the least of my lateness worries, alas.) Maybe I'll catch up by spring. Or summer. Or, who am I kidding, next winter.

Right, so what the actual fuck is happening on “Lost Girl” this season? This week’s episode was confusing on many levels. There was so much plot and so little making sense. But mostly, I was annoyed how much of the storyline this season revolved around brand new characters who we have little to no (or, to be honest, negative) emotional investment in. How are we supposed to care about Bo’s sacrifices for Rainer, if we all hate Rainer? He truly is the Warlow of “Lost Girl.” (Check out my full recap of episode 4.12 over at AfterEllen to fully understand the extent of my mass confusion.)

I have enjoyed many things about this season, particularly its penchant for making every crackship dreamed up in fandoms most feverish dreams come to life on screen. ( Really, really enjoyed Lauren in that nightie, too. Really, really much.) But the logic holes we’re left with with only one episode to patch them is perplexing, at best. Not to be cruel, but this is a show with a somewhat spotty record on its season finales. Remember the DawningYawning? Probably best we all don’t.

Still, I dream the impossible dream that everything will make sense after Sunday night’s finale. Maybe they’ll pull this big crazy train into the station and we’ll all be like, “Oh, that’s where it was going.” And if that is asking too much, all I really want from the finale is for Rainer to die. What can I say, I am a gay lady, so I just hate BoNer. Now lady boners, that is something all together different. Happy Weekend, all.

For all those wondering if coming out still mattered, let me answer that with three simple words. It fucking matters. And Ellen Page coming out on Valentine’s Day fucking matters. Not only was it a love note to LGBT people everywhere, but it was a reminder of the power of three other simple words: I am gay.

Sure, most of us already knew. Or strongly suspected. Or hoped. But the power of Ellen telling the world she is gay, of anyone telling the world cannot be denied. It fucking matters. Each time another person comes out, I feel the rush of camaraderie that only comes from being part of a group that claims it's own identity. I feel it, some questioning kid in a tiny town in Kansas (Jesus, fuck, Kansas) hears it, and LGBT people all over the world feel it.

I kind of love how you can tell she is nervous when she starts her speech. The import of it. She knows it fucking matters. And she makes the most of her platform with a beautiful, eloquent and powerful speech. So many of us know what it means to lie by omission, to hide and suffer. But like Ellen, we can come out the other side. Damn, it was a good Valentine’s Day to be gay. Now, the line form behind me to hug Ellen with our legs in friendship.

p.s Never mind the winter of our discontent. With all the recent folks coming out (football star Michael Sam, Chicago Fire star Monica Raymund and England soccer captain Casey Stoney), we should call this the winter of our discloseting.

Don’t even think of bothering me June 6. Don’t call, don’t write, don’t even think of me. I’ll be binge-watching “Orange Is the New Black” with every other lesbian. The release of the season 2 premiere date (still waiting for the season 1 DVD set, Netflix – ahem). The news and teeny-tiny promo clip released to preview the return has me beyond keyed up, and it’s still more than 100 days away.

I love the glimpse of Lorraine Toussaint as new character Vee. And I’m so happy to see Nicky, Taystee, Crazy et al again. Though, come on, where is Alex Vauseeeeee? Sigh.

I kind of don’t know what I’m going to do with myself until June 6. (p.s. Dear Boss: Taking a vacation day. Love, Snarker.) So I guess I’ll just enjoy the magnificence of Uzo Aduba showing off her 10-years of figure skating training in the Olympic setting she deserves.



Until June 6 I guess I’ll just stock up on pie (to throw) and duct tape (to make shower shoes) and, of course, screwdrivers (to shank a bitch). Hey, we all pass the time in our own ways.

Dignified people being generally undignified, in the most charming way possible, is one of my favorite things. So on this hump day, I give you the incredibly dignified and undeniably charming Dame Helen Mirren reluctantly twerking. I love how she refused at first, but relented because her subjects demanded it. Twerking is dead, long live twerking – when done by this dame.



p.s. I have no idea why this video quality from the Harvard Hasty Pudding Awards looks like it was shot in 1973. Hold up, wait, maybe it is from 1973 and Helen Mirren actually invented twerking. Kidding, kidding. Glee invented twerking. KIDDING EVEN MORE.

p.p.s. Helen Mirren can totally get it. Not kidding. Not even a little.

Dude, I was totally right about Lauren’s Magical Vagina necklace. “Lost Girl” showrunner and all-around lovely Canadian writer lady has confirmed that the gift Lauren gave to Bo was, indeed, a symbolic snatch. Essentially.

My “Lost Girl” finale recap made light of the necklace’s, um, anatomical similarities. And I guote:

“Before going to save her lady, Bo makes a quick pit stop to accessorize. She pauses to put on Lauren’s gift. It’s the necklace she found hidden in Lauren’s apartment. The necklace that looks an awful lot like, OK–I’m just going to say it, it looks like a vagina. Oh my freaking God, Lauren gave Bo a necklace of her Magical Vagina.”

The necklace was painstakingly designed by Exec. Producer J. Firestone, and is based on the labrys charm. And...

— Emily Andras (@emtothea)February 21, 2014

...replicas of the necklace will soon be available for purchase, with proceeds going to a charity chosen by the#LostGirl cast.

— Emily Andras (@emtothea) February 21, 2014

Thank you #LostGirl-ers, for your support; For giving us the freedom to love...and we do! Think you'll be pleased with the charity, too.

— Emily Andras (@emtothea)February 21, 2014

@dorothysnarker BOOM. Happy birthday. Forever.

— Emily Andras (@emtothea) February 21, 2014

The world can really wear you down out some days. But then we catch a glimpse of beauty and, if even for only a moment, everything is lifted. So please enjoy these romanticized images of LGBT love, shot by out photographer Braden Summers. The photos, which are dramatized images of couples (many of them models, some real), depicting love across six countries. The All Love Is Equal traveled to Paris, India, Lebanon, South Africa, Brazil, and the US to shoot the photos. And as Summers told Buzzfeed her was inspired by the standard romanticized images of couples we see everyday, all which generally featured exclusively straight couples.

“The work is meant to speak to a large audience, it should be reminiscent of the highly-produced romance images that we are fed on a daily basis.”

Welcome to your week. Cats, Ellen and Rebel. Cat Ladies of the Internet, represent. Happy Monday.

p.s. Apologies for the short post. But tomorrow is Gayzzoli. I gotta rest up and stretch my subtext muscle.

So “Glee” is back today, I guess. I’m not really sure because, quite frankly, I’ve lost track. I stopped watching back in November after that atrocity wrapped in a steaming tortilla of awfulness that was “The End of Twerk.” I took it off my DVR season pass that night. And I haven’t seen an episode since. How do I feel about that? Hmm, well, I feel really fucking good about it, actually – thanks for asking. Over the months I’ve toyed with the idea of catching up. I could put it on in the background and do more important tasks like organizing my sock drawer or cleaning out the cat box. That last seems particularly appropriate. But in the end, I would rather watch a rerun of “House Hunters” where two whiny people whine about the lack of granite countertops than “Glee.” Somehow, even the people who complain about not having stainless steel appliances seems less grating than those kids. I’m still deciding whether I’ll watch the 100th episode. I’m leaning toward a maybe yes, only because I know so many of the actors and characters I actually cared about when I used to actually care about this show will be returning. And for a flash I was worried that if I did tune in I would be confused, having missed so many episodes. But then I laughed at myself for a good 10 minutes because, idiot, this is “Glee.” It probably has better continuity the longer you don’t watch. I don’t really know when the 100th episode will be airing either. Obliviousness toward “Glee” is my new happy place. It’s strange, really, how something that once felt fresh and – while always seriously flawed – important can fade into such obscurity. But, there you have it. That’s “Glee.” I guess. I wouldn’t actually know. Like I said, I stopped watching.

So true. pic.twitter.com/5NviIXx0Zx

— Jan Nash (@JanNash100) February 24, 2014

This Post-It, tweeted by new showrunner Jan Nash, is how I feel about watching “Rizzoli & Isles” to a T. Sometimes I wonder why I keep watching this show. Other times I know for sure. Certainly, it doesn’t have the best writing. Definitely, the crimes aren’t the craftiest. And, sweet merciful Zeus, is the police procedure is beyond ridiculous. But that is not and never was why I watched. Instead, since the beginning, I’ve been in it for the chemistry, camaraderie and comedy. And the stupid obvious lesborific subtext. I just can’t help myself.

p.s. Gayzzoli subtext recaps start up again tomorrow on AfterEllen.

Amid the frenzy of “Rizzoli & Isles” coming back and the season finale of “Lost Girl” wrapping up and “Orange Is the New Black” finally knowing when we’ll be sitting in front of our TVs for two-days straight again, I almost forget to get excited for the return of “Orphan Black” in a little under two months. Almost. Because each teeny-tiny sliver of a preview gets my zomghappypuppyiwashidingundertheporchbecauseiloveyou excitement going. Seriously, all it takes is 15 seconds of Tatiana Maslany taking on Tatiana Maslany for me to be hook, line and sinkered again for this show. Bring on the clonespiracy.
p.s. Does Tatiana as Rachel look amazingly like Megan Follows, or what?

Sometimes, out of seemingly nowhere, I remember this “My So-Called Life” scene. It’s such a simple scene on its surface – a rehearsal of a high school production of “Our Town.” But it contains multitudes. And, as with so much in life, it’s what we don’t see that makes this so very powerful.

The set-up – Angela and her best friend Rayanne have stopped being friends because the latter slept with the former’s ex-boyfriend – is remarkably pedestrian. Female friendships torn asunder over a boy. Nothing revolutionary about seeing that on television. But it is the execution that never fails to bring a lump to my throat. I wondered why this particular scene sprung to mind so vividly the other day. And I think it is because I’ve been watching “Girls.” The past few episodes have dealt with the ways young women support and alternately let each other down in the most mundane ways. But when played for more than the lazy catfight, the way it feels when women break each other’s hearts and how – if we’re very lucky we heal them again – is unmistakably riveting. That’s all human beings are. Just blind people.

Right, so I think my subconscious is telling me it’s time to marathon “My So-Called Life” again. Happy weekend, all.

I think we can all agree last night belonged to Adele Dazeem. Kidding, kidding. Thank God Travolta wasn’t asked to pronounce Lupita Nyong’o, too. So, between all the superstar selfies, pizza delivery and mispronunciation of Tony-winners names, it was easy to forget they handed out awards. But they did. A bunch of them. There was even an EGOT in the bunch. A few of my favorite moments from a long (long, long) night of sometimes strange and a few fantastic things. A look back in wonder.

J-Law loses to “Gravity,” again.

I love how she grabbed onto her friend, like, “If I’m going down we ALL go down!” And then, of course, could laugh at herself.

Lupita & Meryl get HAPPY!

p.s. Amy Adams, too.


Adele Dazeem is going to be a star, a STAR, I tell ya!

I was so confused for a second. Like, why would they let anyone but Idina sing “Let It Go?”

Brad Pitt has a promising career in pizza delivery.

And that’s Meryl taking a slice, yo.

Lupita Nyong’s is the Disney princess we’ve been waiting for.


I mean, she even has the headband.

OK, fine, THAT SELFIE.


The selfie bit started slowly, but then all the A-list celebrities started acted like normal idiots taking a selfie. So then it was genius.

Bonus: My two favorite people at the Oscars this year.

So, share, what were your favorite bits? And, seriously, get Adele Dazeem a record deal immediately.

So I only recently, finally (don’t throw things at me) got a chance to watch “Frozen.” Which is strange for me because, hello – I have both “Finding Nemo” and “WALL-E” on my phone. But, predictably, I loved it. And I love, loved its (now Oscar-winning) showstopper “Let It Go.” We could get into its subtle (and not so subtle) feminist and gay rights undertones (Don’t let them in, don’t let them see/Be the good girl you always have to be/Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know/Well, now they know/Let it go, let it go/Can’t hold it back anymore.) Hello, this year’s Gay Pride anthem. I still haven’t stopped singing it in the shower. (p.s. I totally read any angry post about the “dangerous homosexual messaging” in the lyrics on some site…it was amazing.)

Anyway, aside from the whole Adele Dazeem debacle, I felt Idina Menzel’s Academy Award performance was muted. The pacing was off and the song was, obviously truncated. So while well-delivered, it just didn’t pack that full-throated punch. Well, she got another shot thanks to Jimmy Fallon and his Classroom Instruments series. And let me just say, Hallelujah, the thrill is back. I really enjoy Jimmy’s Classroom Instruments series, done on – you guessed it – instruments you would find in a classroom. I think they bring the very simple, childlike joy of music back in ways only a kazoo can. You can just, you know, let it go. (So, fine, the first verse is a little shaky but afterward, hotfreakingdamn, does the lady let the storm rage on.)



p.s. Tina Fey was on last night too and Jimmy served her pizza. So, you know, best show ever.

Of all the enduring Lesbian Lady Crushes, few are more enduring and lesbian thank our collective crush on Mary-Louise Parker. As soon as we see her we all turn into Idgie, melted immediately at the sight of Ruth. Our hearts scream Towanda! And we’d move an entire lake to somewhere in Georgia with out love. So then please enjoy MLP on this edition of Hannah Hart’s My Drunk Kitchen. Brownies plus Mary-Louise? Yep. I’m in. (Also for a good cause. Not that chocolate isn’t a good cause…)

p.s. Though, let’s give credit where credit is due. This was clearly just a homage to MLP’s best cooking scene ever. Bonus, there was also flour and chocolate.

See? See? See how watchable this show becomes again once they drop the pretense of beards and engagements and stick with what works? Jane, Maura and the big nutball Rizzoli clan. Sigh. If only every week Papa Rizzoli got prostrate prostate cancer. Read the full “Rizzoli & Isles” Subtext Recap over at AfterEllen a little later today. Until then, let’s all hug.

I bet you were wondering where the SGALGG went. Don’t worry, kittens, I didn’t forget. It’s just that at this year’s Academy Awards there were also a bunch of actual Gay Gals Acting Like Gay Gays, in addition to the Straight Gals doing the same. So I thought why not celebrate them both. The GGALGG and the SGALGG. The real deals and those just expressing the most sincere form of flattery. Best of both worlds, I say.

GGALGG:

Ellen & Portia

I really never get tired of seeing the Royal Gay Couple.

Evan Rachel Wood & Anna Paquin

I miss when Evan was on “True Blood.” It sucked a lot less then.

Angelina Jolie & Lupita Nyong’o

Look at Angie, trying to get a little sugar from Lupita.

Sarah Paulson & Jane Fonda

Count the hands. Who is goosing Sarah?

Angie & Sarah

Leave it to two gay ladies to find each other in a crowd and make clear after-party plans.

Annie Leibovitz & Penelope Cruz

Leave it to the gay lady to find the pretty lady, too.

Fran Lebowitz & Diane Lane

See above.

Lisa Bonet, Zoe Kravitz & Ellen Page

Two generations-worth of see above.

GGAUnlikeGG:

Bono, Portia & Ellen

No kissing boys. OMG, don’t you two know the rules?

SGALGG:

Charlize Theron & Lupita

Can you blame them?

Lupita & Rosario Dawson

No, no you cannot.

Cate Blanchett & Jennifer Lawrence

Trying to slip her your room key, eh, Cate?

J-Law &The Friend She Nearly Took Down With Her

Aw, good to see they made up.

Meryl Streep & Glenn Close

In the absence of Emma Thompson, Meryl goes for the next best thing.

SGuysALGGuys:

Liam Hemsworth, Ben Affleck & Chris Hemswoth

A Ben on slices of Hemsworth Brother sandwich for the bisexual ladies in the house (and gay boys).

BONUS SGALGG:

Meryl & Pizza

Admittedly, this is the biggest love connection of the night.

So, did you hear that squeal sometime last night? That was the unrepentant scream of gay gals everywhere welcoming another friend into the fold. Last night at the Canadian Screen Awards Zoie Palmer thanked her female partner and their son publically for the first time, which was a subtle but unmistakable coming out. Now, you’d probably have to follow Zoie closely to realize the significance of her thanking “my incredible partner, Alex, and my beautiful son Luca.” In the pressroom afterward not a single reporter mentioned it. But we’re no amateurs. We’re lesbians. We know everybody who has ever considered kissing a girl’s business. So the “Alex” was Alex Lalonde and son was Luca, Lalonde’s from a previous relationship.



While she went more the Jodie Foster route than the Ellen Page route of coming out, it’s welcome none the less.

Last month, Zoie posted on her Facebook Page that she would be boycotting the Sochi Olympics because of Russia’s anti-LGBT policies. She said her decision was based on the “bigger picture” taking precedence.

It is my unequivocal belief that basic human rights and equality for ALL is paramount. Gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered and queer individuals must be granted these rights and must never be told not to speak of who they are, must never be silenced, ignored, abused, attacked, alienated and treated like second class people. It not okay….

So Canadian ladies are pretty much crushing it this year, eh? I mean, Ellen Page, Zoie Palmer, “Bomb Girls” movie and now, the first full trailer for the second season of “Orphan Black.” Now we get to see Tatiana Maslany crush it at least seven different ways. Never have I been so thankful for our neighbors to the north. (Fine, it’s at least on par with how much I loved Canada during my “Anne of Green Gables” and L.M. Montgomery obsession phase.)

All that and they also get free health care. If only I could find a way to care more about hockey, I’d move.



My thoughts on that trailer? HOLY GOD, I NEED A VALIUM.