Grammy Nominations For Record Of The Year 2025

every time i see the taylor swift tour shit in toronto i think of that post where somebody said eras tour is shen yun for white women and i lose it

i remember being taught by my butch lesbian neighbor how to figure out if a button-down shirt fits properly, and her femme wife teaching me how to tie a tie. it was in my dining room that we used as a makeshift nursery for my sister. the walls were blood red, and the floors and ceiling were dark. the whole world felt like it was suffocating you in that room, much like life felt for me at the time. i was fifteen years old, and it had been seven months since my mother had last spoken to me. my father was drinking. i was failing my classes partially because my brain couldnt stop projecting old home movies onto the backs of my eyelids and i couldnt stay present and partially to see if anyone would notice.  no one did.  no one but my neighbors.

they invited us over for dinner. the butch always greeted us while the femme finished dinner and we took off our shoes and one would take our coats and the butch would clap her hand on my shoulder, and the femme would touch my elbow gently while she took out my chair. they fed us, we played board games, they talked openly about being gay. they held hands across the dining table, and twirled their wedding rings, neither seeming to notice they were doing it. watching them methodically work, hosting this beautiful dinner, moving together like two pieces of an intricate puzzle, like weaving together yarn and hemp, like gears, like one soul split evenly between two bodies–

i had never seen love like that. i had never met women like them. women who wore athletic sandals in november. women who wore sundresses with denim and cowboy boots and called her wife “sonnyboy,” whose wife was always quite put together, button-down buttoned to the top, tie straight (with the constant help of her wife), hair short & cropped to the scalp all the way round. women who both did the dishes. 

i didn’t know love like that was an option. i had only been shown angry, volatile love. i didn’t know i could be a woman like that. or rather, i didn’t know i could be loved as that kind of a woman. i had been taught that women like that are lonely. they’re ugly. but i watched her. her crisp leather jacket, her darkwash, baggy jeans on summer days that she folded once over her brown boots with the yellow shoelaces. she wasn’t ugly. i watched her, and i bought brown boots.

When I say “I love this artist” I either know 5 of their songs that I play on repeat or I know their entire discography and you just have to guess which one it is

Tried watching Daydream Believers: The Monkee's story (2000) and immediately had to pause because of fake davy's fuck ass bob

"why is EVERY song about love" I'm begging you to dig just a tiny bit deeper, there's literally thousands of songs that aren't love songs. You don't even have to look for the most obscure underground artists ever, the fucking Beatles of all people have a song about a guy who kills people with a hammer

I'm at a :.|:; for words.

A Few of The Best Monkees Stories Ever

Inspired by A Few of The Best Beatles Stories Ever.

I’ve combined all of your submissions and a few of my own to make a list of The Monkee fandom’s favorite Monkees Stories of ALL TIME.

I’ve been meaning to post this list for over a year, and it seems fitting to post it today in conjunction with thank-your-lucky-stars​ Monkees Awards question for today.

BEST MONKEES STORIES

Mike Nesmith yelling “that could’ve been your face motherfucker” and punching a hole in a wall, when Herb Moelis and Don Kirshner wouldn’t let the Monkees play their own instruments on their album.

Micky Dolenz gallantly making a tourniquet for Cynthia Plaster Caster after she sliced her hand while trying to open up a can of dental alginates to use to make Peter Tork’s plaster cast. (Unfortunately this injury made it impossible to cast Peter that day)

Peter Tork’s mile high orgies on their plane during the 1967 tour and his orgy organizer button which he wore during the second season of the Monkees’ television show.

Davy Jones plowing through the studio gate with his car when the guard refused to let him in because of his “long” hair/not believing Davy worked there.

Mike Nesmith’s Cincinnati (Cleveland?) prank with the elevator that almost got the guys trampled by thousands of fans until they jumped into a police car.

Peter Tork telling the draft board that he was gay to get out of going to Vietnam.

Micky Dolenz tripping balls in Hyde Park at 7 in the morning and singing songs to a couple hundred schoolkids until Jack Nicholson and Bob and Bert and the cops show up and when they finally make a run for it, everybody gets trampled.

Peter Tork and Davy Jones getting into a knockout, drag down fight on the set of the show, with Davy giving Peter a “nutter” and Peter subsequently punching Davy, who then had to get stitches.

Two Mexican federal agents handing Mike Nesmith a million dollars’ worth of marijuana in a brown paper sack as an apology after the agents took his camera away because he took photos of a student demonstration.

A member of the Monkees entourage hiding Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones in the Monkees’ hotel in England after he was busted for drugs.

Two seventeen-year-old girls bribing pizza delivery guys for their outfits to deliver pizza to the Monkees’ hotel room.

Mike Nesmith sending John Lennon a telegram that ended with “God is Love, Mike Nesmith.”

Davy’s salad story

When Mike had a party with a houseful of people and asked Davy if he wanted to go get a burger. Davy declined, but later learned Mike left his own party to hop on his private jet and fly to get his favorite burger just cos he had it like that.

The time when Micky was invited to the recording of Sgt. Pepper and he thought it was going to be some big psychedelic party so he shows up all crazy in paisley print bell bottoms and like tie-dyed underwear in the middle of the day, and he just finds the Beatles sitting all calm in folding chairs.

The game of “Killer,” that required the actors, producers, some of the inner-circle to play-act a spectacular death scene on demand.

The Monkees nearly sabotaging their own show before it could even begin, by invading the network affiliates’ dinner at Chason’s restaurant.

The pilot of the Monkees Express having to come on the PA system on the plane, asking some of the passengers enjoying the party-pit in the rear of the plane to please come forward so he could get the nose down.

Micky getting mobbed while doing his Christmas shopping.

Bert Schneider sitting in the audience at the Cow Palace, seeing his band on stage for the first time and not quite believing what he had created.Raybert scoring the lowest rated pilot in the history of the network—and figuring out how to fix it.

That girl that mailed herself to Davy

Davy flying to a hospital in Phoenix to visit two little girls who had been hit by a car when they were out buying Monkees albums

Spending a weekend locked in a hotel with Jack Nicholson and drugs to write Head.

Micky building that scale model plane in his living room, then having to disassemble it because he couldn’t get it out the door.

tumblr is so intimate like… i do not act like this around people i know…

It makes me happy when they listen