Dish was reading Proust’s Swann’s Way this morning and came across this passage: And so it is with our own past. It is a labour in vain to attempt to recapture it: all the efforts of our intellect must prove futile. The past is hidden somewhere outside the realm, beyond the reach of intellect, on some material object (in the sensation which that material object will give us) which we do not suspect. And as for that object, it depends on chance whether we come upon it or not before we ourselves must die. When I look at Gale Harold, I see the shimmering past of 2005 when I discovered Queer As Folk for the first time. I moved into a new apartment building, gained ten pounds because I no longer had to climb six flights of stairs. Brian Kinney became my god, gave me confidence, went with me to see Duran Duran at MSG, made me excited to work my ass off, to date three douchebags in a row and come out of the experience with my heart intact. He is always beautiful, strong, and doesn’t give a damn.And now, time to watch the excellence of Neil Patrick Harris on the Emmys.
4 comments:
NPH is a genuine delight. When he sat in the audience with his scrumptious butt-buddy, didn't you want to just wrap them both up and take them home? He's lucky to have a nice butt-buddy, one who would be there for him on a national telecast.
Did you know NPH and his butt-buddy are versatile?
I've heard that, yes. Must make life quite simple, and diverse, for both of those butt pirates.
They just have so many options. Love them both! Very gorgeous and talented boys.
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