are you thinking of me when you're putting on your make-up darling, dyeing your hair like you do
Okay. I think that all of you have been spared for long enough. I woke up about two hours ago, and I cannot get to sleep, so I am writing recs, and apparently, going on about the subject of this post.
According to Wikipedia, which, really, total veracity and trustworthiness right there, Taking Back Sunday is the band most listed by lj users as an interest. I have no idea if that is actually the truth, but I need more extraneous information in this post, anyway. It would be cool if it were true, though. (Also, note the kickass picture of Adam there. Oh, classing it UP.) Also, I am a lemming, and really ought to add one of my favorite bands to my interests, but okay, this post is not actually all about me. Yet. AHAH, I wonder where Brand New and Straylight Run rest in the interest hierarchy. Oh, crazyjesselacey, you and your antics. Luckily, I love Jesse Lacey almost as much as we both love drinking, so it's cool. Really.
It's like watching The Academy Is...! I feel fine about my beer drinking, looking at this. Oh, stupidfaces, why do you enable me? Well, okay, that is more an issue than I am ready to confront here.
You know who doesn't get drunk? (Well, not any more!)
That is right, Gerard Way!
But, wait, there is substance to this post.
So, this picture freaks everyone the hell out. (There is a less scary version here but since when has anyone been interested in that. what, okay, they're hotter there, back to point.) It's like their ship beamed them down, and they're still acclimating to the air here, because back home, they breathe pure tar, and shortly after this, the photographer got amnesia, and now lives in a rest home, and doesn't really like talking about anything besides fingerpaints.
So, that is scary enough.
NO, IT REALLY ISN'T.
There are so many things that are SO wrong with this picture. SO VERY MANY. Like, okay, MikeyWay and Gerard are not freaky enough, and here, it's cute, they're trying to look sweet for the photographer, or sort of, because, alright, Mikey looks nervous and a little creeped out, possibly because of Gerard's terrified squirrel face, and then you blink, and WHAT THE GODDAMN HELL, ADAM LAZZARA. REALLY. Like, hi there! YOU ARE CRAZY, LAZFACE. Mikey, I feel your pain, and I would rescue you, really. Or perhaps that is your lascivious face, and you are goosing Adam. In which case, I will totally take over for you.
Let's look at that again. NOPE, STILL CREEPY AS ALL FUCK. See, in most group pictures, and I swear that this is an interband memo that goes around backstages, only one dude (or chick, but mostly dudes) gets to look like he's not from this galaxy. The rest of them are supposed to look sexy/fun/companionable/whatever. This did not get around to the Way-Lazzara Delegation from Planet WTF.
Now that I've terrified you with that connection, have a Tiny Boy Dance Off! Who is the tiniest boy ever? LET US DETERMINE EMPIRICALLY. Frank Iero, in one corner, with the wonky lungs, and guitar that's possibly bigger than he is? Or John Nolan, in the other corner, in children's size clothing, and providing a wacko crossover between emo and indie?
(You may surmise that I am just trying to cleanse your mind of the TERROR of the first part of this post. You would be surmising right. Wait, you're just right, 'surmising' isn't a word. Wait, look at the tape here. Horrifically, it connects. RUN, FRANK, RUN.)
LET'S GO!
FRANK!
JOHN!
FRANK!
JOHN!
FRANK!
JOHN!
Okay, so the play-by-play can be a little tedious, over the radio here. I think we ought to move it to an arena where there's some basis for comparison. Yes, it is time for a couple of group shots!
This was a good photoshoot. For reasons other than proving than Frank is tiny and could possibly fit into that tiny little fifth pocket on your jeans. They're all really hot, and yes, I know, they are pretty hot, but I think that getting it going, all at once? Highly cool. HEE, SO TINY.
I hate to make an eating disorder reference (watch me gleefully do it!) but, really, look at John's tiny little arm! Someone please check his house, and make sure that he has some extra protein powder in his milkshakes. I will buy you Mallomars, John! Oreos, even! They are very expensive, but you are worth it. You really are; don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You aren't alone, it's okay to tell someone about your problems, and then let them take you grocery shopping. Get yourself into some therapy, and eat something beside celery sticks, and you will be fine.
So, you say, whatever, they're in a funky warehouse, what a dumb place for a picture. It has lounges for Frank to stand on, and I would like to point out that he is only a teensy bit taller than Gerard here, and, okay, I actually just want to stare at this picture, and appreciate how pretty they all are. Ray actually looks pleased to be there, Bob looks pretty tough, Mikey looks a little like a dude, Frank has a weirdly sexy reputable thing going on, and Gerard looks kind of like an escort for a particular sort of of gentleman. Yes, that's hot. I will so take it!
They are planning to get into the grimy warehouse, in the above picture! To which you say, whatever, it's Adam, he's devious, it'll work. Bob might have to bust him up a little, and okay, sorry, I just had to remind myself that they're in totally different places, because that thought really disturbed me. In all this mess, you might miss John's tiny little worried faaaace though. Wait, did I just make a bad "Sympathy For The Martyr" reference? I did! He's getting edged out there, which, really, Adam, do not foreshadow these things.
Okay, so I cry whenever I watch this video. It's so SAD! For that reason, I have really failed to notice how tiny Frank is. And Ray's got his hair down, so you can see, with actual height, rather than fizzy hair, the comparison. STILL TINY. Now, I have to go cry. Not over the tiny, luckily. Over the impossibly sad! I sound so sincere.
You will note John's tendency to sit on his bandmates' laps. Because he is not six, NO. Totally not, although sometimes, when he walks by playgrounds, generally on mornings after, the little kids try to get him to join in, because they need an extra girl for their (heteronormative) games. Okay, I could have made a crude anatomical reference, aren't you proud that I went to the creepy place rather than that?
Even when he is right at the camera, Frank still looks tiny and wee! I remember Year Sixes looking like this. Although not with the porn star sunglasses.
Okay, so again with the camera angles, but really, Jesse is not that tall in the first place, and John is not that far back. Oh, your little self!
Despite the way that Bob looks like he's actually a paper cut-out...I actually forget my train of thought, I just realized that I would really like Bob paper dolls. Frank remains tiny.
I would like John paper dolls as well, except that he's already so near one, and I would feel bad, because it's so near real-life. Seriously, feed him.
There are few things funnier than the idea that Michelle probably has to beat up people who mistreat John. She could so take anyone. Even Bruce Lee. I maintain that Michelle finds her dumbass brother and his equally dumb drunken friends secretly really funny. Well, it's only a secret until she's high; then she calls Jesse and Adam up, and slurs about how they're foxes, really retarded foxes. Adam maintains that she means kangaroos and Jesse goes back to his intensive schedule of being really crazy.
In conclusion. Oh John.
The Long Island scene sort of derailed that.
Let's talk more about the first part of this post! It blends the Long Island crazy, and the Jersey crazy. YES. I am talking about Adam and Gerard's secret affair!
What. It could be a secret! It's obviously an affair.
THEY COULD BE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER. See what canon has given me? Weeping over here. Also, because Chester Bennington has INVADED my lj again, which, okay, someone tell the pasty shiny man to go away. I like everything else about this picture, though. Mike Shinoda is smiley! Gerard is so pale, he almost blends into the background! Adam...looks hugely trashy, but that's kind of a theme for him! Thanks for bringing the crazy, anyway!
Mikey has already helpfully made sure that Adam's a good kisser. Thanks, Mikey! This picture inspired a fic!bit, actually: Mikey sighed. It got annoying, sometimes, when Gerard decided he'd rather be in love with concepts than actual people. Mikey ended up knowing all of Gerard's girlfriends pretty well- he got left with them when Gerard was off changing the world. Mikey sighed again, for good measure.
Mikey was a little delighted when Gerard started dating people who bathed regularly. He hadn't disliked Bert or anything, he was an okay guy, but making sure that he was good enough for Gerard was tiring. Also, Bert was totally wrong when he insisted that Danzig were better than Samhain.
So, when Gerard started hanging out with Adam, Mikey was pretty pleased. He figured it could hardly be worse than Bert, and Adam had seemed like a cool guy, in their previous encounters. One afternoon, Mikey was reading, when Adam stumbled into the room, and a door slammed shut behind him.
"Um, hi." Adam looked down at the ground, and traced a little circle with his foot. Mikey looked up from the newspaper, and blinked. Oh, yeah, it'd happened again. Mikey nodded, sure in the fact that Gerard was planning something grand, but he needed to work alone.
"Hi. You want a section of this?" Adam nodded, and sat down next to Mikey. Mikey pretended to not notice the lipstick marks on Adam's neck, especially since he was pretty sure that Gerard had been wearing that exact colors that morning.
SO IN LOVE. In a wacky way, where it involves a lot of mirrors and shoving. But, PRETTY.
AGAIN WITH THE CLASSY. (There is a bigger version, too.)
OKAY. If I have to write the fic where they attempt to dye Adam's hair with Kool-Aid myself, I will be so bummed. They are a little skanky together! There is possibly some jaundice going around, and really, Gerard, yellow eyeshadow is not a good look for you. Adam looks a little like Mark Hamill, circa Return Of The Jedi, doesn't he? The slightly shovel (fine, car accident/drug) mashed face, the funky hair, possibly the MIND TRICKS. How much do I love Star Wars, again? A LOT.
Because they so pulled that move! Alright, I did, at one point, dye my hair this color, and yes, it looked just as good on me as it does on Adam here. Which is to say, NOT AT ALL. Honestly, it was worse than the green, which, I can tell you, looks pretty bad on everyone, and totally does not stay green. Hmm, I bet I can hit one you up for some help on this point: anyone got a recommendation for permanent green hair dye? Or perhaps pink? The longer I look at this picture, the more I want pink hair. Adam, you are not meant to be doing this to me; I am supposed to want to run in the other direction, from your trashy affair with Gerard. But apparently, I want to look like you. Well, whatever, all that running could get tiring. Once again, I manage to make it all about me.
Also, the possibility that they've getting married here. I think that is likely. What with the weirdly obvious hand-holding, and kind of vacant looks, and wow, I am giving a lot away about my opinions on weddings.
Alright, we can all breathe again. Well, you can breathe, I will be drawing little hearts with my purple glitter gel pens and hyperventilating.
I actually don't have a mean comment. There are some things best presented without commentary, and these pictures are among those things. They look so happy! I am actually pretty sincerely delighted for them. Okay, so sincere does not mean I will not mock the way that Adam is at least three times taller than Gerard.
HAHA. This picture continues to bring joy and fear. In the highly likely event that you'd found some brain bleach, and forgotten it, or something, here it is, AGAIN.
ETA, 7:56 am I am so awesome at sounding rational. Also, at thinking that I am way clever. Edited to remove the jokes that really don't make any sense, and pictures which were unintentionally posted twice. Sadly, this is the good version of the post.
In less totally-terrifying news, I LOVE this song. Why, Conor, just when I am getting my mock on, you have to be all wonderful and talented, and geez, warn me, next time.
According to Wikipedia, which, really, total veracity and trustworthiness right there, Taking Back Sunday is the band most listed by lj users as an interest. I have no idea if that is actually the truth, but I need more extraneous information in this post, anyway. It would be cool if it were true, though. (Also, note the kickass picture of Adam there. Oh, classing it UP.) Also, I am a lemming, and really ought to add one of my favorite bands to my interests, but okay, this post is not actually all about me. Yet. AHAH, I wonder where Brand New and Straylight Run rest in the interest hierarchy. Oh, crazyjesselacey, you and your antics. Luckily, I love Jesse Lacey almost as much as we both love drinking, so it's cool. Really.
It's like watching The Academy Is...! I feel fine about my beer drinking, looking at this. Oh, stupidfaces, why do you enable me? Well, okay, that is more an issue than I am ready to confront here.
You know who doesn't get drunk? (Well, not any more!)
That is right, Gerard Way!
But, wait, there is substance to this post.
So, this picture freaks everyone the hell out. (There is a less scary version here but since when has anyone been interested in that. what, okay, they're hotter there, back to point.) It's like their ship beamed them down, and they're still acclimating to the air here, because back home, they breathe pure tar, and shortly after this, the photographer got amnesia, and now lives in a rest home, and doesn't really like talking about anything besides fingerpaints.
So, that is scary enough.
NO, IT REALLY ISN'T.
There are so many things that are SO wrong with this picture. SO VERY MANY. Like, okay, MikeyWay and Gerard are not freaky enough, and here, it's cute, they're trying to look sweet for the photographer, or sort of, because, alright, Mikey looks nervous and a little creeped out, possibly because of Gerard's terrified squirrel face, and then you blink, and WHAT THE GODDAMN HELL, ADAM LAZZARA. REALLY. Like, hi there! YOU ARE CRAZY, LAZFACE. Mikey, I feel your pain, and I would rescue you, really. Or perhaps that is your lascivious face, and you are goosing Adam. In which case, I will totally take over for you.
Let's look at that again. NOPE, STILL CREEPY AS ALL FUCK. See, in most group pictures, and I swear that this is an interband memo that goes around backstages, only one dude (or chick, but mostly dudes) gets to look like he's not from this galaxy. The rest of them are supposed to look sexy/fun/companionable/whatever. This did not get around to the Way-Lazzara Delegation from Planet WTF.
Now that I've terrified you with that connection, have a Tiny Boy Dance Off! Who is the tiniest boy ever? LET US DETERMINE EMPIRICALLY. Frank Iero, in one corner, with the wonky lungs, and guitar that's possibly bigger than he is? Or John Nolan, in the other corner, in children's size clothing, and providing a wacko crossover between emo and indie?
(You may surmise that I am just trying to cleanse your mind of the TERROR of the first part of this post. You would be surmising right. Wait, you're just right, 'surmising' isn't a word. Wait, look at the tape here. Horrifically, it connects. RUN, FRANK, RUN.)
LET'S GO!
FRANK!
JOHN!
FRANK!
JOHN!
FRANK!
JOHN!
Okay, so the play-by-play can be a little tedious, over the radio here. I think we ought to move it to an arena where there's some basis for comparison. Yes, it is time for a couple of group shots!
This was a good photoshoot. For reasons other than proving than Frank is tiny and could possibly fit into that tiny little fifth pocket on your jeans. They're all really hot, and yes, I know, they are pretty hot, but I think that getting it going, all at once? Highly cool. HEE, SO TINY.
I hate to make an eating disorder reference (watch me gleefully do it!) but, really, look at John's tiny little arm! Someone please check his house, and make sure that he has some extra protein powder in his milkshakes. I will buy you Mallomars, John! Oreos, even! They are very expensive, but you are worth it. You really are; don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You aren't alone, it's okay to tell someone about your problems, and then let them take you grocery shopping. Get yourself into some therapy, and eat something beside celery sticks, and you will be fine.
So, you say, whatever, they're in a funky warehouse, what a dumb place for a picture. It has lounges for Frank to stand on, and I would like to point out that he is only a teensy bit taller than Gerard here, and, okay, I actually just want to stare at this picture, and appreciate how pretty they all are. Ray actually looks pleased to be there, Bob looks pretty tough, Mikey looks a little like a dude, Frank has a weirdly sexy reputable thing going on, and Gerard looks kind of like an escort for a particular sort of of gentleman. Yes, that's hot. I will so take it!
They are planning to get into the grimy warehouse, in the above picture! To which you say, whatever, it's Adam, he's devious, it'll work. Bob might have to bust him up a little, and okay, sorry, I just had to remind myself that they're in totally different places, because that thought really disturbed me. In all this mess, you might miss John's tiny little worried faaaace though. Wait, did I just make a bad "Sympathy For The Martyr" reference? I did! He's getting edged out there, which, really, Adam, do not foreshadow these things.
Okay, so I cry whenever I watch this video. It's so SAD! For that reason, I have really failed to notice how tiny Frank is. And Ray's got his hair down, so you can see, with actual height, rather than fizzy hair, the comparison. STILL TINY. Now, I have to go cry. Not over the tiny, luckily. Over the impossibly sad! I sound so sincere.
You will note John's tendency to sit on his bandmates' laps. Because he is not six, NO. Totally not, although sometimes, when he walks by playgrounds, generally on mornings after, the little kids try to get him to join in, because they need an extra girl for their (heteronormative) games. Okay, I could have made a crude anatomical reference, aren't you proud that I went to the creepy place rather than that?
Even when he is right at the camera, Frank still looks tiny and wee! I remember Year Sixes looking like this. Although not with the porn star sunglasses.
Okay, so again with the camera angles, but really, Jesse is not that tall in the first place, and John is not that far back. Oh, your little self!
Despite the way that Bob looks like he's actually a paper cut-out...I actually forget my train of thought, I just realized that I would really like Bob paper dolls. Frank remains tiny.
I would like John paper dolls as well, except that he's already so near one, and I would feel bad, because it's so near real-life. Seriously, feed him.
There are few things funnier than the idea that Michelle probably has to beat up people who mistreat John. She could so take anyone. Even Bruce Lee. I maintain that Michelle finds her dumbass brother and his equally dumb drunken friends secretly really funny. Well, it's only a secret until she's high; then she calls Jesse and Adam up, and slurs about how they're foxes, really retarded foxes. Adam maintains that she means kangaroos and Jesse goes back to his intensive schedule of being really crazy.
In conclusion. Oh John.
The Long Island scene sort of derailed that.
Let's talk more about the first part of this post! It blends the Long Island crazy, and the Jersey crazy. YES. I am talking about Adam and Gerard's secret affair!
What. It could be a secret! It's obviously an affair.
THEY COULD BE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER. See what canon has given me? Weeping over here. Also, because Chester Bennington has INVADED my lj again, which, okay, someone tell the pasty shiny man to go away. I like everything else about this picture, though. Mike Shinoda is smiley! Gerard is so pale, he almost blends into the background! Adam...looks hugely trashy, but that's kind of a theme for him! Thanks for bringing the crazy, anyway!
Mikey has already helpfully made sure that Adam's a good kisser. Thanks, Mikey! This picture inspired a fic!bit, actually: Mikey sighed. It got annoying, sometimes, when Gerard decided he'd rather be in love with concepts than actual people. Mikey ended up knowing all of Gerard's girlfriends pretty well- he got left with them when Gerard was off changing the world. Mikey sighed again, for good measure.
Mikey was a little delighted when Gerard started dating people who bathed regularly. He hadn't disliked Bert or anything, he was an okay guy, but making sure that he was good enough for Gerard was tiring. Also, Bert was totally wrong when he insisted that Danzig were better than Samhain.
So, when Gerard started hanging out with Adam, Mikey was pretty pleased. He figured it could hardly be worse than Bert, and Adam had seemed like a cool guy, in their previous encounters. One afternoon, Mikey was reading, when Adam stumbled into the room, and a door slammed shut behind him.
"Um, hi." Adam looked down at the ground, and traced a little circle with his foot. Mikey looked up from the newspaper, and blinked. Oh, yeah, it'd happened again. Mikey nodded, sure in the fact that Gerard was planning something grand, but he needed to work alone.
"Hi. You want a section of this?" Adam nodded, and sat down next to Mikey. Mikey pretended to not notice the lipstick marks on Adam's neck, especially since he was pretty sure that Gerard had been wearing that exact colors that morning.
SO IN LOVE. In a wacky way, where it involves a lot of mirrors and shoving. But, PRETTY.
AGAIN WITH THE CLASSY. (There is a bigger version, too.)
OKAY. If I have to write the fic where they attempt to dye Adam's hair with Kool-Aid myself, I will be so bummed. They are a little skanky together! There is possibly some jaundice going around, and really, Gerard, yellow eyeshadow is not a good look for you. Adam looks a little like Mark Hamill, circa Return Of The Jedi, doesn't he? The slightly shovel (fine, car accident/drug) mashed face, the funky hair, possibly the MIND TRICKS. How much do I love Star Wars, again? A LOT.
Because they so pulled that move! Alright, I did, at one point, dye my hair this color, and yes, it looked just as good on me as it does on Adam here. Which is to say, NOT AT ALL. Honestly, it was worse than the green, which, I can tell you, looks pretty bad on everyone, and totally does not stay green. Hmm, I bet I can hit one you up for some help on this point: anyone got a recommendation for permanent green hair dye? Or perhaps pink? The longer I look at this picture, the more I want pink hair. Adam, you are not meant to be doing this to me; I am supposed to want to run in the other direction, from your trashy affair with Gerard. But apparently, I want to look like you. Well, whatever, all that running could get tiring. Once again, I manage to make it all about me.
Also, the possibility that they've getting married here. I think that is likely. What with the weirdly obvious hand-holding, and kind of vacant looks, and wow, I am giving a lot away about my opinions on weddings.
Alright, we can all breathe again. Well, you can breathe, I will be drawing little hearts with my purple glitter gel pens and hyperventilating.
I actually don't have a mean comment. There are some things best presented without commentary, and these pictures are among those things. They look so happy! I am actually pretty sincerely delighted for them. Okay, so sincere does not mean I will not mock the way that Adam is at least three times taller than Gerard.
HAHA. This picture continues to bring joy and fear. In the highly likely event that you'd found some brain bleach, and forgotten it, or something, here it is, AGAIN.
ETA, 7:56 am I am so awesome at sounding rational. Also, at thinking that I am way clever. Edited to remove the jokes that really don't make any sense, and pictures which were unintentionally posted twice. Sadly, this is the good version of the post.
In less totally-terrifying news, I LOVE this song. Why, Conor, just when I am getting my mock on, you have to be all wonderful and talented, and geez, warn me, next time.