The big upset of the Golden Globes was Bohemian Rhapsody’s win, snatching it from front-runner A Star is Born.
I wasn’t surprised.
Bohemian Rhapsody is actually a pretty shite film. It’s so obviously someone’s version of what happened and not what did, in fact, happen. There was drama in getting it made, controversy dogging its every move, and critics hated it. A Star is Born is way better in many respects.
But, it didn’t have him.
Freddie Mercury. On. The. Big. Screen. Or rather Rami Malek as Freddie (and it’s so damn close it could almost be.)
The man is a legend. And has tons of fans. Who cares that the film bobbled along on well-worn biopic tracks? Who cares that big chunks were left out? Or that canned drama took the place of character development (sorry, John Deacon, but you are clearly awesome and all anyone can say is that you were played by the kid from Jurassic Park).
Watching Bohemian Rhapsody, we get a little closer to his and their ‘kind of magic'.
I know a lot of people comment that there’s an irrational amount of grief for superstars we never knew. What aboutery abounds.
I remember when Freddie died. It was the same day our Grade 11 marks were returned. I sat sulking, waiting for my cue as a shepherd in the nativity play rehearsal. Rain clouds threatened and all I could think was that my life was over as I’d ploughed Afrikaans, again. And then, the shattering news arrived. Freddie. Gone.
We used to sing Flash Gordon in the lounge to my dad’s tape. The Innuendo album played on repeat when we were racing yachts just outside Durban harbour. Whenever I felt shite about my expanding arse, I’d turn to my personal feel-good anthem, Fat-Bottomed Girls.
Queen sang to me, bolstered me up, made me feel I could be a ‘Prince of the Universe’. An ally. A friend. An icon.
This year hasn’t started well for me. My heart is broken. My dreams in tatters. I have no idea what this year will bring and I hope for kindness, but somehow, that’s not always what will transpire.
I cannot think of a better song, from a band and a man who fill me with such inspiration I can barely breathe.
Hope 2019 is good to you.
#darkromance #priestromance #darkerotica #darkeroticromance #kissmelikeyoumeanit
#darkromance #eroticromance #darkerotica #erotica #kissmelikeyoumean it
#darkromance #darkerotica #taboo #kissmelikeyoumeanit
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Only one person knows Max Montgomery’s deepest, darkest synesthesia secrets — Billy Jorge. But he ran out on her after six months, when she was still a teen, leaving her to deal with the fallout. A year before, Max arrived back in Liberty to bury her mother, pack up and sell the family house and head out to pursue the rest of her life. So, why’s she still there? Because Billy’s back in Liberty in his role of local preacher, Father William Jorge. Because he’s still the only person who knows her, who she can trust herself with - or can she?
#DarkRomance #DarkErotica #Erotica
Tango isn't about dancing — it's about connection. For one tanda, follower and leader connect, heart and head, on the dance floor. It's not a dance, it's life itself. With that in mind, I wrote my novella, Dance of Desire. It's for all tangeuras -- and tangeuros-- everywhere, who follow their passion, on and off the dance floor.