Has jackshit to do with my comment, but, sure, enjoy using your words, buddy!

As a queer guy, I don’t know what I vibe with less: Rich’s seemingly annual long-form deep dive into the gay sex party scene (“you liberal straight people think you’re not homophobes? Psshaw. Let me tell you all about the transcendence I experienced while watching a bunch of anon dick-in-butt stuff over the weekend.…

In which case, I’m excited to head down there and meet my subjects!

I don’t get how the New York housewives don’t get the best ratings of all the franchise when they are so clearly the best ones.

Kandi, whoever styled you for WWHL, you need to hire them full-time immediately (and invite them to have threeways with you if they’re into that sort of thing.) Left to your own devices, you inevitably end up looking like Judy Jetson by Rainbow.

“Maybe it’s about some, uh, beautiful gowns?” - Aretha Franklin, shrugging off a $90K full-length Chinchilla coat.

Let he who is without sin try and claim Ben Vereen doesn’t give you pants feelings.

Despite her perhaps once unrivalled talent as a studio singer (yes, shade) and all her vamping, Mariah’s never struck me as particularly assured live performer (a la her “godmother” Patti LaBelle, who would just shoe-throw and octave-jump her way through any technical difficulty up to and including nuclear war). And…

I present the definitive cover of “This Christmas” by a righteously exasperated Patti LaBelle, who may be the only black person in America who doesn’t know this song by heart.

As a gay guy who had the “it’s not me, it’s you” talk with the Catholic Church and all its attendant bullshit in my head as an adolescent, I’m always get a kick out of listening to traditionalist Catholics trying to paint the picture of what my life could look if I toed the line:

This movie looks like it was made for your cousin who is really into Humans of New York, but sometimes finds it a little too raw.

She seems lovely, and he, well, certainly seems to bring a half-trained golden lab’s enthusiasm to the business of being alive, but sliding barn doors and pornographically over-sized wall clocks with faux “old timey” faces is some patently lower middle-class straight people shit. I was saying miss me with all that…

Yeah, if this election proved anything, it’s that huge swaths of America are just dying to put badass-billionaire-uses-magic-powers-to-save-the-free world escapism aside to find out what it’s like to be gay, black and poor as hell.

“I’m almost embarrassed to admit how much I related to this movie, as a man several years older than its central character”

Pro-tip to the offspring of Real Housewives:

If we’re speculating about directors ( though the blind item is explicit about it being an actor) the obvious intimidating 1980s A-lister is Speilberg. I imagine he’s about as untouchable as the come in Hollywood, he’s about the right age and has a passel of kids (some adopted) with long-time wife Kate Capshaw.

In fifteen years, I would fully support a remake of the original movie starring Greta Gerwig, Julie Klausner and Fabletica’s own Kate Hudson.

I’m usually able to finish what I start when it comes to novel reading, but that book was 750 pages of hammy, overwrought slash fiction.

I co-sign your assessment as to why she’s with him - and I would add that I think the two of them are partying like it’s 1986 on Wall Street together — and that only adds to her insecurities. There are men in New York looking for age-appropriate second wives and there are men looking to find a gal to be face down in a…

Counterpoint: this season of NYC is already kicking ass - and that’s at least partially due to Dorinda’s very not handsome, not rich and not silent boyfriend being in there like swimwear when it comes to the drama.