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Fashion/Style by Liza Van Horne
September 5, 2008

Dear readers, many of us tend to complain, loudly and often, that the men of Genoa City have no balls, and I do believe I've figured out why this ball shortage exists: they're all being worn around Sharon's neck! Good God, did you see the necklace she had on the other day when she was escorting her hulking fifteen-year-old son to lunch at the Jitter Joint?! Sharon had three heavy strands of large, appropriately BLUE balls draped over her cleavage, only partially obscuring the acres of skin bared by her black lingerie-strapped dress. I have to speculate that Newah No-Man's recent Rapid Aging presents a problem as far as the appropriateness of his mother's daily attire is concerned. Or maybe it doesn't - hell, Porniel's in his twenties and HIS mother, in her mid-forties, still dresses like she's hanging out down on the corner, and he never even has the common decency to flinch when confronted with Phyllis's unfettered flapjacks.

Genoa City is nothing if not a hotbed of gender confusion for young men. While Newah practically broke into a desperate tap dance attempting to convince his older stepbrother that girls were of any interest to him - all the while daydreaming over the prospect of public school shower-room antics with his soccer chums - Porniel himself was looking very festive in a 1950s-style gray-and-black-paneled bowling shirt over a V-necked white tee with a porkpie hat cocked just-so. For some reason, Porniel claimed to be doing some work on the animate Restless Amber icon, despite the fact that last we heard, this idea had been unceremoniously tossed aside much like a precious soul-bearing letter from Adam's allegedly dead pappy.

Regardless of the thankfully abandoned Restless Amber gimmick, Newah wanted Porniel to know his Newman gherkin was fully functioning, and to that end, treated his brother to an earful of slobbering and puffing over the ex-girlfriend who is practically old enough to be Newah's mother - not that anyone cares about that sort of thing in this town. Amber was seen wafting by flirtatiously, wearing what appeared to be a bright blue deflated bean-bag chair with a drawstring cinched around her waist and an enormous butterfly pendant resting between her hooters.

While the Invisible Liam made imaginary plans with Amber to fly to New York for the opening of Porniel's All-Pencil Sketchbook Revue, Nick and Victoria were sulking around town grieving their dad for what must have been about the ninth or tenth time in their lives. One would think that by now, they'd barely even blink at the suggestion that Victor was once again rumored to have left this mortal coil for that big Ponderosa in the sky. He goes off on these mysterious quests all the freaking TIME and he's NEVER dead. They should be writing it down on their CALENDARS by now. "Hey sis - why don't you bring JT and the kid over tomorrow night? We'll get takeout from the Club and play some Boggle." "Can't do it, Nick - Daddy's annual disappearance is on for tomorrow morning, and we should really all be at the big house to fret and grieve..." "Oh damn, you're right. Never mind, then."

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