Today’s post is brought to you by whatever the fuck was on Jena Malone’s head in Sucker Punch

Say what you will about the recently released Sucker Punch. From what I understand,
the folks that liked it are raving about it, whereas, the folks that didn’t like it ended up
walking out a quarter of the way through. Personally, I thought it had all the elements
that should make the standard gay geek jizz his American Apparel briefs (Zack Snyder
visuals, hos with big guns, and a soundtrack that included a remix of Bjork’s “Army
of Me” as well as covers of The Smiths’ “Asleep”, Pixies’ “Where Is My Mind?”, and
Eurythmics’ “Sweet Dreams [Are Made of This]).

In a nutshell, Sucker Punch follows a young girl, nicknamed Baby Doll
(Emily Browning) as she is whisked away to an insane asylum, circa the 1950s, by her stepfather (who probably not-so-coincidentally looks like one of the pedos from Dateline: To Catch a
Predator) after he frames her for the murder of her sister. As the day of Baby Doll’s
lobotomy approaches, we start to question what is real and what is a fantasy and what is
just the result of Baby Doll getting some damn good meds.

During some of the “fantasy” sequences of the film, I kept finding myself distracted by
the Tribble that decided to style-up a bit with some Murray’s Magnificent Pomade
before beginning the construction of its nest on her head. For those of you wondering
whatever happened to Karen Walker’s hairpiece after the cancellation of Will and Grace,
you can rest easy knowing that Beverly Leslie tore it from that bitch’s scalp while she
was scrambling for a rogue Tic-Tac that she mistook for a Percocet. It then found its
way onto Jena Malone’s dome after traversing the wormhole from Donnie Darko and
nearly being exorcised by Hilary Faye after a pit stop at American Eagle Christian High
School … and the rest is history. A new star is born. The Oscar for Best Supporting Hair
Accessory from Claire’s goes to…

Carla Gugino also starred in Sucker Punch as Vera Gorski. Most of you will probably
remember her as Sally Jupiter/Silk Spectre from Watchmen or Lucille from Sin City. Of
course, my memories of Carla take me right back to when she played Chica Barnfell in
Troop Beverly Hills. For those of you who need a memory jarring, Chica was the trick
whose parents always preferred the allure of jet setting to Monte Carlo or Caracas as
opposed to actually rearing their child. Chica has always held a special place in my heart
due to her surly demeanor and constant stank face as well as the fact that she showed up
to a troop meeting wearing an Equestrian uniform accessorized with a riding crop in one
hand and the fall fashion issue of Vogue in the other.

... the fuck happened to Melissa Auf der Maur's face?

Ever since Courtney Love announced that she was going to shriek out a new album under the Hole moniker with a bunch of people that AREN’T Hole, I have been spooning with my copy of Live Through This at night in hopes that the “true” band members get off their pink Huffy bikes, put aside their pissy-pants squabbles, and trash a stage together like during the golden-era of 90s music when alternative rock ruled the roost and the “M” in MTV actually made sense.

After years of praying at my makeshift Hole altar (consisting of soiled negligees, baby-doll barrettes, and a cracked tiara from Party City) my dreams of a Baby Jane Hudson look-a-like on coke being fingerbanged while crowd surfing were almost realized on Monday night at New York City’s MoMA.

Spin reports that the “classic” lineup of Hole came together for the premiere of Hit So Hard, the documentary film that chronicles the drug addiction of drummer Patty Schemel and her years with Hole. While the subject of the film is supposed to be Patty and her substance abuse, it also includes eerie footage of the late Kurt Cobain uttering "I'll never leave my girls." to Courtney and Frances Bean from behind the camera as well as his performing a never-heard duet with Love entitled "Stinking of You".

Unfortunately, while the foursome remained civil to each other at the event and even took to the stage together following the screening, there was no mention of an official reunion.

In the end, my overwhelming unease was not in response to the fact that Eric Erlandson still comes off as far too queer to have been frotting his Dirk Diggler peen (just assuming) on the angry beavers of Kristen Pfaff and Drew Barrymore throughout the 90s. Instead, I found myself cowering in terror behind Billy Corgan’s ego at the sight of the nightmare that has physically manifested itself where the face of Melissa Auf der Maur once resided. Between the horrifying brow-lift/Parralox combination and that ensemble, Melissa looks like one of the kidnapped mannequins from Prince & Company. Seriously though, had I not seen Courtney Love, gay Eric, and Carrie Fisher Patty Schemel, I NEVER would have known that this was the same Melissa that helped ward off those evil cardboard paparazzi.

YAY… another “The Mona Lisa is a tranny” theory!

As some of you may remember, last January, it was reported that some folks that dabble in science and history from Italy’s National Committee for Cultural Heritage, when not tripping their balls off, were trying to get the green light to dig up the remains of Leonardo da Vinci from his tomb in the Loire valley. Why? Well, they were convinced that The Mona Lisa was actually a self-portrait of the painter. Some other da Vinci experts shot that theory down (I’m assuming because there was no duct tape back in Renaissance Italy… an obvious contradiction to the aforementioned theory).

Don’t put your falsies down yet “ladies”. Silvano Vincenti, who chairs the Italian National Committee for Cultural Heritage, is offering yet another theory to hopefully squash those boring and dated beliefs that the woman in the painting is actually Lisa Gheradini, the wife of a merchant who supposedly commissioned the work from da Vinci.

The new argument is that the figure in the painting is based on da Vinci’s assistant at the time, Gian Giacomo Caprotti aka Salai (drag name?). Court documents from 1746, where Leonardo was charged and acquitted of sodomy, laid the groundwork for the presumption of his homosexuality. His relationship with Salai was said to be both passionate and loving (translation: there was some serious paintbrush dipping going on).

To sum things up, Vincenti was comparing the mugs of both The Mona Lisa and some of da Vinci’s other works, such as St. John the Baptist (which Salai posed for) and he says the facial structures of both subjects are too similar to ignore.

The mystery has been solved. Theologians can rest their weary heads and Dan Brown should be locked away for the blatant fallacies he was peddling in The da Vinci Code by not mentioning that The Mona Lisa DIDN’T have lady parts.

I wonder how long it will be before a da Vinci themed challenge will be seen on RuPaul’s Drag Race. I can see it now… “I’m sorry *insert pseudo-clever drag name here*, but you just didn’t give enough gender ambiguousness in your emulation of the Angel Incarnate and you must now lip synch for your life!”

Tom Hardy is the ‘Bane’ of my attempt at a pure and chaste lifestyle.

Just when I make the conscious decision to stop abusing myself betwixt the sheets on days ending in “y” (lies), that beefy dreamboat, Tom Hardy, shows up at LAX looking like THIS. Did you hear that noise? It was the collective grunt of every queer comic book geek in the world busting their nut in unison and leaving a stain in their shorts that coincidentally resembles the shape of the Bat Signal.

Unless you have been living in a cloud of “Purple Haze” for the past few months, you should be well aware, at this point, that Tom Hardy will be bringing the character of Bane to the big screen in Warner Bros.’ upcoming film, The Dark Knight Rises.

Since the whole point of the new Batman films is to provide a modern and realistic take on the whole franchise, I suggest we bring Bane’s costume up-to-date. Perhaps instead of that silly and dated mask that he is always wearing, we replace it with my jockstrap which he can wear like a surgical mask. That could work, right? Then, once we get to the scene where that big daddy breaks Batman’s back we can rewrite it so that some other form of abuse happens to Bruce Wayne’s back end. I hope you are writing these suggestions down Warner Bros… or Titan Media… it doesn’t really make a difference to me.

I have to admit, before seeing this photo and realizing that there may be a possibility that Tom Hardy is as big a comic book geek as I am, the only fantasy that I had about him involved him riding me like Seabiscuit while feeding me deep-fried mozzarella sticks. Now my fantasy involves him sitting in his tightie whities over a pile of properly bagged and boarded back issues of Gotham City Sirens… while still feeding me deep-fried mozzarella sticks. In comparison to the original fantasy, I suppose the new one comes off as rather tame. Perhaps Tom Hardy ISN’T the bane of my attempt at a pure and chaste lifestyle, after all (lies).

Glass is no gimp!

Alice Glass is a real trooper. One can no longer write her off as just the drunken frontwoman of electronic noisemakers, Crystal Castles, who has a penchant for physically assaulting her fans and crowd surfing like it's still 1994.

In January, Alice jacked up her ankle while in Tokyo for a gig at the Liquid Room. The details on how the injury came about are still unknown but I am sure a few too many sake bombs and a mishap while dancing on top of the drum set were involved.

On February 3rd, Crystal Castles were supposed to headline the kickoff of the Shockwaves NME Awards Tour. Instead of whining about her injury like a pop diva whom the Chelsea twinks jizz their Hollister panties over, bitch grabbed one of Jimmy Valmer's crutches, got up on stage, and tore that shit up.

According to NME, Alice still managed to hop around onstage like a coked-out demonic ferret during certain points of their set.

I currently have the pleasure of looking forward to seeing Crystal Castles at both New York City's Terminal 5 and Toronto's Sound Academy. I can only hope I am fortunate enough to see use her crutch as a weapon against some obnoxious underage poser in skinny jeans who reeks of ditch weed. Given that Alice is a bit fiesty during shows, she might as well take the opportunity to use her newfound accessory to its utmost potential.

Jenny Lewis likes 'em big... waves, that is.

The cutest indie rock couple to ever rub their naughty bits on eachother have just treated us to a new video from their debut record.

"Big Wave" is the latest single from I'm Happy Now, the first effort from Jenny Lewis and Johnathan Rice... or Jenny and Johnny, as they are known on the street. The video is directed by photographer Autumn de Wilde and features the lovebirds embarking on a roadtrip in their vintage station wagon while snuggling, blowing kisses at eachother, and other stomach-churning affections of desire. But, there's also a serpent and scenes of gore dripping down a ho's back. I guess that properly cancels out the hipster Hallmark aspect of the video.

Jenny Lewis is probably best known as the frontwoman for Rilo Kiley. Her album with the Watson Twins, Rabbit Fur Coat is still in heavy rotation in my iPod as well.

In all honesty, Jenny Lewis will always be fondly remembered, by me, as that trick from The Golden Girls who kidnapped Rose Nylund's teddy bear, Fernando, at gunpoint. Rose eventually one-upped that bitch at the end of the episode. I also get all nostalgic when I remember Jenny as Hannah Nefler, selling her cookies on Rodeo Drive in the Oscar-snubbed gem, Troop Beverly Hills. My girl has come so far.

Spin has the video for "Big Wave" here.