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bear by san

March 2017



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wicked fairy bowie

Media whore

I just spent eighteen hours of my life, minus drive time, immersed in visual media.

This is a highly unusual for me, but essentially, I got up this morning, started looking for eighties videos with which to harrass hawkwing_lb (we had great fun with Grace Jones and the Art of Noise and A-Hah and Genesis and Herbie Hancock and Devo and Thomas Dolby (hauling out Rockit was probably unfair)), started swapping David Bowie clips with hernewshoes and stillsostrange, got sidetracked into explaining to truepenny why the young Bowie will be playing Felix in the movie version of her Mildmay-n-Felix books (and, as sosostris2012 discovered, he's already done the video), got extremely distracted spending innumerable hours wandering through the wilds of YouTube looking at Bowie videos (and interviews, including a terribly coked-jittery post-Ziggy Bowie nervously performing oral sex on his walking stick on the Dick Cavett show: there is some stuff you can't make up) and saving the ones I really liked to a playlist, which I will claim is for hernewshoes' and stillsostrange's convenience.

(It's the velvet jacket brigade. Actually, one of the velvet jacket ones didn't make it in, because I didn't like the version, but I used to have a green velvet jacket just like that, when the world was young. I am particularly fond of Bowie teasing his bass player about her outfit in one of the live ones. He says its cut down from one of his old dresses. Unlike Alice Cooper, David Bowie is vastly improved by sobriety, or whatever cocktail of brain chemicals passes for it in him.)

Then I adjourned to watch The Illusionist, which I thought was quite good, although I figured out the plot rather early on, so its emotional impact was, at best, muted for me. (And it was hampered by a really forgettable romance, and the sex scene? A prime example of a snugglefest that would have been improved by closer acquaintance with the cutting room floor.)

Then I came home, watched Mythbusters and Criminal Minds, and surfeited myself on more Bowie. I think I pretty much never need to watch another music video.

That was... kind of exhausting. *g* And probably more television/movies than I usually watch in a month. Yow.

Call it intensive recreating.




I am reasonably certain, as I said to several people earlier, that Bowie has caused the suicides of more straight boys than any other man in modern times.

He is quite terrifyingly hot.
Well, you make me feel better about the twenty-four hours of *my* life I will never get back.
*g* I think you're projecting about the fat girl thing. Considering her generally flamboyant sexuality and self-confidence.

Reid is the bestest.
Well, it seemed to me that *everybody* screwed up. Which was kind of the point of the episode.

I thought Garcia had a thing going with Derek.
*snrch* Yes, that was cute.
That? Is bad writing. Much like Hotch screwing up, and Reid screwing up. and so on.
A little earlier than I'd normally post it, but:

Happy Birthday! :D

(The firewall at work blocks your LJ, so I can't comment from there.

No, not all of LJ, just yours. o_O)
Aaaand now I realize Semagic was giving me the alert for *tomorrow*. Oy.
;-) thank you!
Saw the mythbusters on a couple of panels at Dragon*con this year, they were fascinating and fun.

And happy birthday too, whenever it is LOL


a snugglefest that would have been improved by closer acquaintance with the cutting room floor.

Fair warning: I am plagiarizing the hell out of this comment.

I don't have a movie(s) to attach it to yet. But I will. And I love it. Love it love it love it.
Hee. Wear it in good health.