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Mar. 12th, 2014 07:59 pmOh, people, people. You are ALL FIRED. Usually when my OTP2 interact I am Informed At Once, and yet here is Adam Lambert chatting merrily with Lance Bass about doing a US tour with Queen, about Lance going to Adam's birthday party, about dildos (alas that I missed the context) and about remaking musicals including the Rocky Horror Show. Never mind. You must all listen and rejoice with me.
Also, Lance Bass is a two-timing hussy!!!. Caught on-camera, mid-embrace. Oh, Lance.
I shall be posting my newest Lance/Adam story on Saturday, by the way. Clear your schedules.
*reviews post so far* Okay, yes, I am jet-lagged. Dozing for many hours on two planes does not equal a restful night, and my body has no idea what time it is. Totally confused. But we are home, the cat has reproached us, and as it is nearly eight o'clock I think I can reasonably go to bed. I may even burn these clothes tomorrow, because ew. Also, there were twenty-one pints of milk in the fridges when we got home. Hah. I *did* cancel the milk, but somebody seems to have forgotten to tell the milkman. Nobody can eat that much custard, so eighteen of the bottles are back on the doorstep, along with inexplicable empties that don't seem to have been taken away when he kept on, and on, delivering more.
Good night, all.
Also, Lance Bass is a two-timing hussy!!!. Caught on-camera, mid-embrace. Oh, Lance.
I shall be posting my newest Lance/Adam story on Saturday, by the way. Clear your schedules.
*reviews post so far* Okay, yes, I am jet-lagged. Dozing for many hours on two planes does not equal a restful night, and my body has no idea what time it is. Totally confused. But we are home, the cat has reproached us, and as it is nearly eight o'clock I think I can reasonably go to bed. I may even burn these clothes tomorrow, because ew. Also, there were twenty-one pints of milk in the fridges when we got home. Hah. I *did* cancel the milk, but somebody seems to have forgotten to tell the milkman. Nobody can eat that much custard, so eighteen of the bottles are back on the doorstep, along with inexplicable empties that don't seem to have been taken away when he kept on, and on, delivering more.
Good night, all.