#jk thirsty Thursday or something like that

[palfriendpatine66]

Thirsty Thursday (?)

Aka your pal has no self restraint. Here’s the intro to the wiggles au - we should really call it something else - for now let’s go with Infinite Happiness

When I meet somebody new I say: How do you do? How do you do? How do you do? When I meet somebody new I say: how do you do? My name is Ben! It’s nice to meet you!

“You lost or trying to make your escape while you still have the chance,” a soft voice drawled from the dark.

Anakin jolted to a stop, arrested by the intriguing sound. He was lost, although suddenly a lot less concerned with that fact. He hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going, watching the final laps of the race he’d much rather be attending on his phone as he made his way to the bathroom before he was subjected to an agonizing two hours of nonstop Infinite Happiness - Live in Concert, his preschool twins most favorite singing group in the whole world. He’d just had to go and buy the concert tickets when Padmé said she hadn’t been able to get a hold of any herself, only thinking of the dual win of being the hero in their eyes and one upping their mother while he was at it, not stopping to consider the astronomical loss that having to sit through the concert would be.

Anakin caught sight of the shadowy figure who’d spoken from where they were tucked into a dark corner. Shining gray blue eyes captured his attention and threw all sense out the window and he said the first thing that came to mind. “I'd rather take a power drill to the temple than have to listen to The Happy Song one more time.”

A look of pure incredulity passed over the stranger’s face. They threw their head back with a laugh that drew Anakin in and had him smiling right along with him.

“Cheers to that mate,” the man said. He raised a flask in Anakin’s direction with a nod and then tipped it to his lips with several long gulps that drew Anakin’s eyes to the bob of his throat. “Only way to get through it.”

He held the flask out to Anakin with a questioning tilt of his head, and Anakin found himself step forward despite himself. “What the hell,” he muttered under his breath and brought it up to his lips without breaking eye contact. His eyes teared up as it burned its way down his throat, warmth blooming and spreading through his chest. A thought stuck in his mind as he handed it back - received with a cocky smirk and tossed back far more gracefully - was that those delectable lips were wrapped around where his had just been.

“What’s your name, gorgeous?”

Gorgeous. “Anakin.”

“Pretty name for a pretty boy.”

Anakin’s cheeks were on fire - and when had it gotten so hot in here? - when he was offered the flask again and drank far more deeply than was wise to hide his face and save himself from having to come up with a response.

What the fuck was happening here? He was a father. He didn’t day drink, for one thing, and not with strangers, for another. Certainly not at children’s concerts. And he hadn’t flirted with anyone since the divorce, let alone ridiculously attractive men wearing eyeliner in dark hallways who looked about ready to eat him alive.

His only excuse for what happened next was he was taken completely and totally by surprise.

Strong, thick fingers wove through his hair and together with the hand that sprawled across his lower back, tugged him forward to waiting lips. They met his own, strong and sure, and parted so that a searching tongue could dart out to lick across his own trembling lower lip, requesting access.

With a gasp Anakin responded enthusiastically, not just granting entry but sucking on the questing tongue that slipped into his mouth like he was starving and intended to swallow him whole. Moaning messily into the increasingly wet kiss, if the sloppy movements could even be called that; they’d already turned into something more, something obscene.

Obscene, Anakin repeated inwardly as his fists twisted into a leather jacket and tight black pants, demanding more and growling with approval when the man’s slighter frame pressed up against his own. Hips that just begged to be grabbed, Anakin only too happy to oblige, ground filthily against his thigh and left little up to the imagination.

[stupidspidey]

AJR - Living Room

if you told me in 2013 that this was the absolute pinnacle of music and that it would get no better than this, chances are i would’ve told you “that’s nice, leave me alone creep” and went to go kick the shit out of my brother at Mario on the DS. Now if you told me now that these guys ended up being my favourite band, i’d probably give you the same response but i’d go play a Spider-Man game instead. Regardless, Living Room by AJR is just… not good, by any sense of the word realistically, don’t get me wrong it’s got its merits but holy fuck, it’s really hard to listen to. Now, i don’t want to be too unfair about this, believe it or not sitting here for a good 5 minute read yelling about how bad something is is REALLY undesirable in a review, and it’s even more undesirable since my girlfriend refuses to sleep with me because of it. (jk rose ily) So, i’m gonna take their advice from one of their next albums that came after this and well, skip to The Good Part, which unfortunately should only take me like, 20 lines, maximum, before i start either repeating myself or talking about how a line in “The World is a Marble Heart” is was reused as a backing vocal in “I Won’t” like, 10 years later.

The Good

My GOD, do these guys know how to write a decent line or few. Sure there’s a few “Thirsty, Thirsty, Thursdays!” in there but, every one of those is definitely made up for by the honestly-adorable Infinity or the surprisingly-hopeful My Calling, each lyric will either strike you as cheesy in a really cute way, or inspiring in a really dumb way, the album could honestly be mistaken as written about someone with how directed and loving each line feels from the start to the end and briefly sidestepping around at least 49.2% of each song. Big White Bed especially, but as i wrote that down all i could think to describe the song was “I love you… BITCH. I ain’t ever gonna stop loving you… BITCH.” from a vine like 10-or-so years ago. So, really, pretty appropriate for their timing on the albums release realistically. A really specific praise for the album but, i think the art itself is really pretty? something about it feels so real. Like, if you made an album with two of your brothers and basically pro-tools, a mic and a big idea (yeah, that’s a quote from one of the songs, Big Idea.) would you not just make the album art you all sat on the comfy family sofa in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere with your band name splattered on the wall in a nice deep red? I know i would if i could fit all 5 of my brothers onto one tiny-ass couch. Now unfortunately i can only realistically think of these two points for the positive part but, i will say this: Every track on this album, has thought behind it. It sometimes comes across as them just lobbing the entire processing power of a Windows 7 computer running pro-tools at you, but if you listen to the audio-commentary edition of the album (because, for some reason they made that?) it really is easy to tell the three of them had passion for the thing, especially seen in Jack’s (the J in AJR) enthusiasm about finally making it out of slummin’ it in the streets while his two way-fucking-taller brothers tap danced and sang, outside of his appearance in Pink Panther 2 and Sesame Street of course. (seriously, i’m deadass, look it up, he even has an iMDB page.) Now, unfortunately, on that point, i can’t realistically stay on the positives forever on this without ending up on some TikTok calling me a brainrotted liberal or some slur that hasn’t been unsealed since some crusty fucking 4channer woke up from his food comatose over a reddit girl with fat tits so, with that point.

The Bad

Ok right so, you know how i mentioned this was considered some sort of principle of music back then in 2013? Well guess what, motherfucker. I wasn’t even joking, the way people view Bruno Mars now is the way people viewed Living Room in 2013, though it was hard not to when their brain cells rubbed together and they decided the best way to promote their album was to tag every artist under the sun on gods green-motherfucking-earth and tell them to listen to it. Even then, the only one who listened really was Sia, and realistically what the fuck have you actually seen Sia do in the past like 5 years? This is a real question seriously please for the love of GOD tell me i have no idea past *Chandelier*. Anyway, enough of throwing Sia some strays (i’m sorry ma’am i’m sure there’s a grammy somewhere i didn’t bother googling), back onto Twenty-One Pilo— Coldplay— I mean, AJR. The album had passion behind it, don’t get me wrong here, but it is completely misplaced. The only way i can describe this is that, if this was the latest release around the time of E.T. for the Atari 2600? Music probably wouldn’t have survived past that either. Though realistically it was probably one of the better albums of that era since by then every other song was the most bassy-pile of “please dance to this” you’d ever seen, but i’m sure there’s someone still out there hitting the dab to fuckin’ The World is a Marble Heart, surely. The album itself had some pretty… interesting, approaches, but really you can only get around 30 seconds into the first song before that fucker starts yodelling? why the fuck is he yodelling? Regardless, no matter how many times you make a sequel to Turning Out or how many times you make some good shit like The DJ is Crying for Help, to those guys at TikTok? you’ll allwwaayyss be the guys who made Thirsty. You could get a treaty and a vulcan salute from half of space, but all those motherfuckers will still only know you for Thirsty. Personally? i’d be so fucking mad. I mean, you look to your left and Kanye has just dropped Yeezus, and what do you have to compete against that? a new national holiday celebrated exclusively by kids who get bullied at school, Thirsty Thursday, if i were them i wouldn’t have even made it to The Click without some sort of apology statement.

The Ending

Now, if i’m being completely real here. I can’t entirely slander Living Room, it’s got ideas, it’s got (marble) heart, and most importantly… It let Neotheater exist so… some good out of the bad right? Sure, for anyone else, unless you’re subconsciously subscribed to every single opinion on r/Music like some sort of absorption sponge. And just… in future, for anyone reading this, Include yodelling in your song and i will fucking SLICE you, not for poor mixing choices, not even for poor taste, but for reminding me that i sat here for an hour, and reviewed an album. Worst part? one out of five baby, i’m not down until i hear the fat lady sing, i’ve still gotta drop my useless thoughts for The Click, Neotheater, OK ORCHESTRA and *The Maybe Man. So, i’m gonna go out with a BANG! and by that? i mean get gunned down by the mexican cartel for even daring to include a good section in this slice of piss.

4/10 - Not enough yodelling really.

[megaphonemonday]

questions i have that won’t ever be answered bc fox hates joy

So, it’s Thursday. And there’s no new episode of Pitch and there hasn’t been since December. If you think that means I should be over it by now, you would be super fucking wrong. 

In honor of my unyielding grudge against fox have a (definitely incomplete) list of questions I wanted answered in seasons 2-10. 

Feel free to add your own and/or yell about your bitterness towards fox and how much you miss this show, Ginny Baker, and her #1 fan, Mike Lawson.

let’s get cracking, shall we??

in ascending order of thirstiness:

when did ginny lose her security detail? 

were they just there to deal with ginnsanity or was there something else going on??

they showed her fan mail multiple times, i don’t believe that even in this fictional world there weren’t people who weren’t super pissed a woman was playing in the majors

also: how worried did mike lawson get when he found out people were sending ginny hate mail?

what the hell does the rest of mike’s house look like? gimme a google street view, people.

also: when does ginny first see it? i need context and lots of it

how much shit does she give him for that portrait over his staircase?

does ginny baker actually not know how to cook? is that destined to be just fanon? 

what’s her favorite food? 

how long does it take mike to learn how to make it? does he just inform the clubhouse kitchen to have it ready on days she starts? 

what gets mike to tell ginny about his shitty childhood?

also: what musical cue do they play around this emotional conversation? more ryan adams? 

(jk, of course it’s more ryan adams.)

how often does ginny actually find mike sleeping in the clubhouse? (i.e. “You sleep a lot, old man.”)

how many pictures are on twitter/instagram of him sleeping in inadvisable places?

how many of those are from ginny alone?

what kind of weird routines have the team come up with to accommodate their sleepy captain?

ok, this is mostly me imagining the silent ballets that go on in the clubhouse when Lawson conks out on a couch. first one to wake him up has to pay an extra fine into the booze fund.

how grumpy is he when he wakes up from these naps???

how petty does mike get around ginny’s various dates? how petty does he get around mlb players with ginny baker heart eyes™? 

which is worse?

can he convince the team to take up the guard dog routine, too??

how many times has mike lawson drunk dialed ginny baker? how about vice versa?

if those calls go to voicemail, to what lengths do they go to keep them saved? 

i.e. what other stuff do they delete to make sure they can keep this reminder that the other’s thinking of them? even if they’re drunk and thinking of them

related: when do they become each other’s go to drunk dial? 

who figures them out first? 

my ranking, from most to least likely: Blip and/or Evelyn, Amelia, Al, Eliot (see, now i’m just imagining a b plot where he tries not to lose his mind from this knowledge), Livan, Sonny, any other Padre, Josh Peck/Ross, Rob the camera guy, Oscar

it’s not that i think Oscar is clueless, I just think he would do a hard mental u turn any time he came close to suspecting. The man does not want to know.

how many fucking times do they nearly kiss?

i, personally, need this number to be ridiculously high.

like at least four or five. far more times than is reasonable for two human beings who are mutually attracted to one another, even on a tv show

and that is because i am a sucker for slow burn and mutual pining. that is my sweet spot. that is where i live

post-meeting, who had the first dirty dream about the other? 

how soon did it happen?

how guilty did they feel when they inevitably used the dream as inspiration for some solo fun?

related: how long did they avoid the other afterwards?

how unexpectedly into it is Ginny after she sees Mike actually get into his first on field brawl? not because he’s ~defending her honor~ or whatever, he just looks really good scuffed up. 

like really good.

And, last, but not least:

HOW MANY FUCKING SHOTS OF SHIRTLESS MIKE LAWSON AM I NOW MISSING OUT ON???? HOW MANY SCENES AM I NOT GOING TO GIF??? HOW ABOUT HIS BARE ASS?? WE DESERVED HIS BARE ASS.

jk, not fucking last: 

HOW MANY SCENARIOS OF: HEY, JUST IN CASE YOU FORGOT, GINNY BAKER IS A FUCKING KNOCKOUT, HERE SHE IS IN A DRESS. HAVE FUN, MORTALS.��

AND GOD FORBID THE WOMAN EVER PUT ON A BIKINI! I (AND MIKE LAWSON) WOULD BE LAID FLAT.