you just made my list of things to do today
Good morning, fandom. I'm having the kind of morning where I'm idly wishing Sylar would drop by and cut open my head, just so I could squish my brain inside a coffee cup and see if that made the caffeine work better.
I have ten million things I ought to be doing in preparation for flying to the east coast at the crack of dawn on Thursday, including work they pay me to do. But I'd rather look at dorky boys in eyeliner. This is not shocking news to anyone who knows me.
Featuring Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance, especially my sekrit boyfriends, Patrick Stump and Frank Iero:
You may remember from last time that this is Fall Out Boy:
From left to right, they are: Andy (drums), Joe (guitar), Patrick (vocals), Pete (bass).
They are tiny and adorkable.
They totally fit in the smallest living room. An accessory for all occasions!
They even come with toys, like you used to get in cereal boxes!
And they clean up nice!
So cute, I don't even know, man.
Fall Out Boy leave me with the overwhelming urge to hug. It's a little disturbing to feel this in the flinty black cockles of my heart.
I blame that Patrick Stump kid for being so awesome.
Yes, Patrick. It's all your fault for being a hilarious little musical genius.
The depth of my obsession is shocking, I know!
Okay, I guess I have to blame Pete a little bit, too. DAMN YOU, PETE WENTZ.
Hi, Patrick. I'm just going to stare at your mouth forever, okay?
Patrick guesses that's okay. Awesome.
Patrick is so god damn cute sometimes that I think mimesere is on the right track with her "if Patrick gets any more adorable, he must be the antichrist" theory.
Just take my soul and put it in that shopping cart, Patrick. I'm not using it, anyway.
Okay, fine. You're right. That was more than a little bit creepy.
But Patrick being so cute isn't helping matters. Did I mention his mouth?
Seriously. Look at that face.
I am so glad you're legal, Patrick.
I can't perv on those Panic! kids, but somehow it's totally acceptable to perv on you even though you're only a few years older than they are.
It makes sense in my brain!
Actually, it probably doesn't make sense in my brain, but that's how I roll.
It certainly helps that Patrick can be strikingly hot when he chooses.
For example.
It's like he's trying to kill me.
Patrick's just going to be sparkly and check his voicemail while I flail around like an idiot. He's practical that way.
Pete, at least, knows how I feel.
I'll meet you at Patrick's zipper anytime, Pete.
Okay, ladies and gentlemen. Prepare to cross the streams:
BAND MASHUP.
I've noticed that Patrick gets passed around bands like a musical party favor. I APPROVE OF THIS SO MUCH.
There you are, Frank. I've missed you.
This is My Chemical Romance. Do I need to introduce them again? From left to right: Ray Toro (guitar god); Gerard Way (vocals, will save your life); Frank Iero (rhythm guitar, hotass); Mikey Way (bass, leaning as an art); Bob Bryar (drums, flammable and adorable).
They're very pretty.
Hey, Frank. I need you over here for a minute.
I need you to stand there and be so hot that I embarrass myself.
Oh, Frank. What am I going to do with you?
Other than stare at you for a ridiculously long time?
It's probably going to be boring for Frank, but hey, he's game.
After all, he's the prettiest girl in all the world.
Except when he's a scruffy boy.
One day, I may ask Frank how he gets his eyeliner to do that.
If I can, you know, still talk while looking at him.
Which is doubtful.
Because Frank makes me lose my English.
Quite frequently, in fact.
Nrrrggh.
Hnngah.
See what I mean?
Damn, Frank.
The things that you do to me.
Is he even hotter with an acoustic guitar? I can no longer tell.
Yes, Frank. You've broken me. I hope you're happy.
Curse you and your awesome band!
Oh, what, now you're trying to kill me with cute? It won't work!
But that might. Are you -- are you biting Gerard, Frank? I mean, it's not like Gerard seems to mind, but still.
Dear Gerard: How do I get a smoky eye like that? I would like a makeup lesson. Love, me.
Hi, Gerard! Hi!
I think you're awesome, Gerard. You and your blissfully tight pants.
Have I mentioned that lately?
Because I totally do think you're awesome.
I mean, you do things like this.
You're like a bulletproof kink who wears footie pajamas, Gerard! And I'm totally going to end this picspam on you as a debauched priest with thighs of Jesus Fuck.
Yay for dorks in eyeliner. I feel so much better now, don't you?
That's all for this week! No doubt next week will bring Bandspam 4: Revenge of Bandspam!
I have ten million things I ought to be doing in preparation for flying to the east coast at the crack of dawn on Thursday, including work they pay me to do. But I'd rather look at dorky boys in eyeliner. This is not shocking news to anyone who knows me.
Featuring Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance, especially my sekrit boyfriends, Patrick Stump and Frank Iero:
You may remember from last time that this is Fall Out Boy:
From left to right, they are: Andy (drums), Joe (guitar), Patrick (vocals), Pete (bass).
They are tiny and adorkable.
They totally fit in the smallest living room. An accessory for all occasions!
They even come with toys, like you used to get in cereal boxes!
And they clean up nice!
So cute, I don't even know, man.
Fall Out Boy leave me with the overwhelming urge to hug. It's a little disturbing to feel this in the flinty black cockles of my heart.
I blame that Patrick Stump kid for being so awesome.
Yes, Patrick. It's all your fault for being a hilarious little musical genius.
The depth of my obsession is shocking, I know!
Okay, I guess I have to blame Pete a little bit, too. DAMN YOU, PETE WENTZ.
Hi, Patrick. I'm just going to stare at your mouth forever, okay?
Patrick guesses that's okay. Awesome.
Patrick is so god damn cute sometimes that I think mimesere is on the right track with her "if Patrick gets any more adorable, he must be the antichrist" theory.
Just take my soul and put it in that shopping cart, Patrick. I'm not using it, anyway.
Okay, fine. You're right. That was more than a little bit creepy.
But Patrick being so cute isn't helping matters. Did I mention his mouth?
Seriously. Look at that face.
I am so glad you're legal, Patrick.
I can't perv on those Panic! kids, but somehow it's totally acceptable to perv on you even though you're only a few years older than they are.
It makes sense in my brain!
Actually, it probably doesn't make sense in my brain, but that's how I roll.
It certainly helps that Patrick can be strikingly hot when he chooses.
For example.
It's like he's trying to kill me.
Patrick's just going to be sparkly and check his voicemail while I flail around like an idiot. He's practical that way.
Pete, at least, knows how I feel.
I'll meet you at Patrick's zipper anytime, Pete.
Okay, ladies and gentlemen. Prepare to cross the streams:
BAND MASHUP.
I've noticed that Patrick gets passed around bands like a musical party favor. I APPROVE OF THIS SO MUCH.
There you are, Frank. I've missed you.
This is My Chemical Romance. Do I need to introduce them again? From left to right: Ray Toro (guitar god); Gerard Way (vocals, will save your life); Frank Iero (rhythm guitar, hotass); Mikey Way (bass, leaning as an art); Bob Bryar (drums, flammable and adorable).
They're very pretty.
Hey, Frank. I need you over here for a minute.
I need you to stand there and be so hot that I embarrass myself.
Oh, Frank. What am I going to do with you?
Other than stare at you for a ridiculously long time?
It's probably going to be boring for Frank, but hey, he's game.
After all, he's the prettiest girl in all the world.
Except when he's a scruffy boy.
One day, I may ask Frank how he gets his eyeliner to do that.
If I can, you know, still talk while looking at him.
Which is doubtful.
Because Frank makes me lose my English.
Quite frequently, in fact.
Nrrrggh.
Hnngah.
See what I mean?
Damn, Frank.
The things that you do to me.
Is he even hotter with an acoustic guitar? I can no longer tell.
Yes, Frank. You've broken me. I hope you're happy.
Curse you and your awesome band!
Oh, what, now you're trying to kill me with cute? It won't work!
But that might. Are you -- are you biting Gerard, Frank? I mean, it's not like Gerard seems to mind, but still.
Dear Gerard: How do I get a smoky eye like that? I would like a makeup lesson. Love, me.
Hi, Gerard! Hi!
I think you're awesome, Gerard. You and your blissfully tight pants.
Have I mentioned that lately?
Because I totally do think you're awesome.
I mean, you do things like this.
You're like a bulletproof kink who wears footie pajamas, Gerard! And I'm totally going to end this picspam on you as a debauched priest with thighs of Jesus Fuck.
Yay for dorks in eyeliner. I feel so much better now, don't you?
That's all for this week! No doubt next week will bring Bandspam 4: Revenge of Bandspam!