Failing to realize just what a severely snide and insufferable self-righteous intolerant prick he is, Newman Enterprises giant Victor Newman made a sorry-ass attempt Tuesday to fire newly acquired stock boy Michael Baldwin.

Asserting that his mission is accomplished - in that after just one bribe he's managed to see to it that every store in the known world if not Genoa City and the nation will have Newman's own Safra skunk oil at eye-level - Baldwin was surprised to learn that after less than 30-days Newman planned to turn him loose.

Baldwin presumed, that because the woman he conspired with to breakup a marriage is now rotting in jail and that Newman has forgotten that he's holding Michigan boat owner Otis Elwood - and eyewitness to what really happened that night on the lake - in a Montana cabin, that the great man no longer has anything to hold over his head which could send him straight to prison not to mention the loss of his law license and that this was the real reason he was being let go.

"I'd think about that. I'm a good lawyer," Baldwin warned, insinuating that he might sue for wrongful termination although he apparently did not read the fine print in the contract he signed with Newman.

Thinking for a moment that the tables were being turned, Newman grunted as Baldwin pleaded to be kept on the payroll as a sort of legal gofer. In fact, Baldwin offered to use his own office and seemed to have no other reason for wanting the job other than he felt a closeness to Newman only right hand men get to experience.

Taking a deep sigh and perhaps sensing Baldwin must be nuts not to get out while the getting was good, Newman gave in. Baldwin can stay so long as he watches his step.

"One wrong step and I'll squash you," said Newman and might have added, "like a bug."

Happy as a slug in stagnant water, Baldwin thought it was a fair deal and gleefully bounced out of Newman's office without a care in the world as just about everyone following this dribble asked themselves, "What about Otis Elwood?"

Did you hear the one about the attorney who took a part-time job as a marketing agent for an otherwise unheard of line of cosmetics known as Safra? It was in all the papers. But in the event you aren't reading the main stream media these days because you can't believe a word it publishes, here's the low down.

Currently being blackmailed by the founder of what is supposed to be a massive conglomerate but who has time to partake in silly wars the cosmetics company he controls engage in, attorney Michael Baldwin is under the gun to make Safra products appear on the shelves of department stores which would otherwise not touch the stuff.

To that end Baldwin spends time at his law office thumbing through the Who's Who Directory looking up the names of those who can make it happen. Mostly area managers and the like, Baldwin has so far struck out with Fenmore Department Store magnate Lauren Fenmore, the only person he's been able so far to discuss hawking Safra.

The problem Baldwin has seems to be that store representatives with clout become suspicious when they receive calls asking them to discuss business at a law office. Industry standards dictate that jobbers like Baldwin go to their offices, not the other way around.

But in a city where doctors and lawyers routinely make house calls it came as no surprise Tuesday when Pete Hudson stopped by Baldwin's office totally unaware as to why he was meeting with a lawyer.

"Could you please tell me what this meeting is about?" Hudson asked.

Noting with a heavy emphasis on the fact that Safra is for "women of color" and that the stores Hudson represent will be carrying the product, Baldwin said only that he was, "a big fan."

Perhaps thinking it odd that anyone would claim to be a fan of a toxic chemically-laden skunk oil product, Hudson said his stores have placed an initial order for Safra and then asked if Baldwin works for Safra as if Safra is some cosmetics company on a par with AVON. Technically, Baldwin was correct when he said, "No" but that he was interested in how Safra performs in the marketplace.

Thinking Baldwin's interest therefore made him an investor, Hudson did not think it strange when the subject switched to country clubs and then back to where Hudson planned to store the Safra product it has ordered. Had Baldwin not heard? Most all store have these things called warehouses or stockrooms.

Ignoring how weird their conversation had become Hudson went on to explain how a new product must work its way up through the ranks. If customers buy it - the store orders more.

Incredibly, Baldwin shifted the conversation back to country clubs. If Hudson wasn't already a member of one - as if he had any real power he would - which club would he like to be a member?

Of this there could be only one answer Hudson could give. The Genoa City Country Club - of course! In fact, Hudson said he knows all the "movers and shakers" play golf there when they aren't playing shuttlecock or tiddlywinks.

Seeing an opening, Baldwin moved in for the kill. Would Hudson like to be a member of the country club if Baldwin could get him in at a price he could afford?

Had it been the Fourth of July one witnessing this erratic discussion might have thought a box of bottle rockets had all gone off at once. Hudson's eyes were all a flutter. Gosh, Mr. Baldwin. Do you think you could swing it?

Why sure Mr. Hudson. All you'd have to do is pull a few strings. Hold a gun to the heads of those women with color and make them buy Safra. And if that doesn't cause sales to go through the roof there's a pile of money in my briefcase which will grease the skids, Baldwin did not get around to say.

But had Baldwin offered Hudson money on top of the already ridiculous country club membership bribe it would have only made their meeting all the more beyond belief as it made absolutely no sense given that Hudson's company had already purchased Safra products for sale at its stores.

Like all scum who lie, cheat and steal, department store lackey Peter Husdon on Wednesday accepted the bribe presented to him by attorney, and Newman Enterprises flunky, Michael Baldwin. The money changed hands via a diabolical plot in which the two men with identical briefcases "mistakenly" walked away from their meeting carrying the wrong one.

At first, Hudson was skeptical of accepting any form of a bribe saying ethics prevented him from accepting "high profile gifts [like country club memberships] from suppliers. But when asked by Baldwin if he is not the person in his organization who calls the shots about product placement," Hudson said, "Yes. Stores take their direction from me."

Planting the idea in Hudson's empty head that he doesn't receive ample compensation, Baldwin smiled when Hudson said that his employer has "no idea what it takes to raise kids." And because employees like Hudson assume they are entitled to breed like rabbits and expect their employers to help pay to raise those kids and subsidize their rich and lavish lifestyles, Hudson took the money. In exchange, Safra skunk oil products will get equal billing with competing Tuvia in its stores.

by Molly Media

Maybe it's that feeling that he's reached saturation, that the attorney can't really absorb any more misinformation and misdirection and snide switcheroos, Izzy Williams to Christine Blair, bug loving to bug scorn, lawyer to glorified stock boy.

Maybe Michael Baldwin should have quit while he was ahead. Enough of the macho all-Genoa City hate-totin' faux-cowboy ethos that says, if I can just become Ms. Blair's current lover I can rule the city.

Look where it got him.

With the blood of Mrs. Izzy Williams on his hands Baldwin was already in deep doo-doo thanks to his infatuation with the Bug. Concealing evidence, conspiracy, hell, he may as well have killed the woman himself. Of course, it wouldn't have sent the Bug running back to him since the person who should have died - if there must be death - was that clueless detective the Bug easily forgave for raping her, Paul Williams.

Now Baldwin is opening his blackened eyes, realizing he has been massively and systematically and enthusiastically and intentionally duped by some very rich, very impotent white male named Victor Newman.

And there Baldwin was Friday looking like a fly caught in the spider's web each tug causing Newman to bristle and move ever closer to finishing off his prey.

You could argue who in Genoa City is the most gullible and easily duped. Who is the most patronized, the most easily manipulated by gimmick and sleight of hand and grinning fear mongering. Naturally, it seems every member of the elite here has tried some form of the next oldest profession - blackmailer.

The trap Baldwin finds himself in is called blackmail. It's an old tactic used by those who can't get what they want legally. Tricia Dennison last used it on Newman when she tried convincing the old man that he could still have sex and in fact had it with her.

Blackmail never works and Newman should know this. But for the next several weeks he will taunt Baldwin with the knowledge that he knows Baldwin's connection to what he has termed the "death" of Mrs. Williams. Newman's ace in the hole is Otis Elwood. A witness in the Vanishing Victim case, Newman has Elwood stashed safely away in a Montana cabin. If Baldwin doesn't tow the Newman line - by stocking store shelves with stinky Safra product - the great man will threaten daily to blow the whistle.

It's a big macho dumbass thing Newman does because the trailer-park bestiality porn he watches alone at night in his office just ain't doin' it for him anymore. Black eyed and sneering and looking like he just swallowed a moldy slug, Newman will ooze with self-righteous chest-thumping egotism as he toys with Baldwin ignoring the deafening screams and taunts of irate opposition.

The daze ahead will be filled with Newman glory.

Billed as a "deal with the devil" the partnership Victor Newman and Michael Baldwin created Monday is nothing of the sort. The agreement merely put attorney Baldwin on retainer. Baldwin will continue operating out of his law office with his partner, Christine 'Bug' Blair, regardless of the fact the Bug hasn't handled a single case since leaving years ago for Hong Kong and Australia. As the Genoa City News has previously pointed out, Baldwin is expected to be used by Newman to affect the total and complete destruction of competitor Jabot Cosmetics. To that end Newman has no expectation that ethics will play a role in whatever services Baldwin may perform.

Local shyster will join Newman Enterprises
June 27, 2003

Walking around at this very moment suffering from severe depression and self-medicating himself with alcohol, attorney Michael Baldwin admitted Friday that he is ingesting gin for breakfast and scotch for lunch but denied that drinking massive amounts of toxic substances doesn't make him a drunk.

"After I found my friend missing and a pool of what may be her blood," Baldwin slurred, referring to the missing dizzy Izzy Williams and attempting to rationalize his feeling the slightest bit of stress or sleeplessness gives him the right to pop a pill or slam back another drink and not notice that one does not find that which is missing until the thing missing is actually found.

Having read in the paper about the Case of the Missing Victim, the great Victor Newman stopped by Baldwin's office today to ask if the shyster would like to get a real job. There are some dangerous idiots running around out there who pose a threat to the Newman empire and a good lawyer is just what a powerful "uber-tycoon" needs to maybe bring them up on racketeering charges.

After expressing more feelings of existential angst, asking wacky eternal questions like, why the hell am I here and what's the point anyway and what's it all for and thinking he'd like to get his life going in a different direction, Baldwin was expected to jump at the opportunity of a lifetime.

Bloody Murder?
June 20, 2003

After receiving an urgent plea from a beleaguered dizzy Izzy Williams on Friday that she was hearing strange noises and needed help, attorney Michael Baldwin rushed to the woman's apartment to find the dwelling spattered with blood and a bloody knife lying nearby. A preliminary observation of what may become a crime scene did not reveal the location of a body or the estranged Mrs. Williams.

That Mrs. Williams would attempt to take her own life was not entirely ruled out but seems improbable as Williams had earlier spoken by telephone with her baby in Los Angeles and had promised to always be there for the boy.

In a related development pointing to Mrs. Mary Williams as the prime suspect in what may turn out to be attempted murder, the old woman was seen Friday in a dazed and drunken state and babbling again how she would never get to see her grandson.

The blood-letting follows the serving of restraining orders on three members of the Williams clan all of whom have been terrorizing Izzy Williams and have motive for wanting her out of the way.

ROs served on crazy crusaders

June 19, 2003

One good thing about shysters. They can always find a judge in Genoa City willing to issue a restraining order in just about an hour. That's how long it took Thursday for attorney Michael Baldwin to obtain the order barring local crusader crazies Paul 'Clueless' Williams and Williams' soul-mate, Christine "Bug' Blair and Williams' demented mother Mary from going near their latest target of terror, calling or threatening dizzy Izzy Williams in any way.

As with everything these days in this pissant city, even the simple serving of restraining orders couldn't be accomplished with much more than an ounce of credibility. Rather than wait until the respondents were officially served, Baldwin summoned Clueless to the law offices of Baldwin & Williams where Blair continues to work.

Considering Williams cannot stand the sight of Baldwin much less respond to any request he might make on the phone, Clueless trotted over to the law office like the good little quivering ass-clenched mama's boy he is.

"You said you wanted to see me? Here I am," Clueless boldly spat as he walked through the door.

Essentially told to stop acting like incompetent slugs and deal with another failed marriage and another failed relationship like adults, both Clueless and Blair looked at each other as if to say, "What did we do that was so threatening?"

"Can you believe that woman?" the Bug squealed, already plotting in her scattered brain how long it would take to violate the RO.

Observing how the slimy crawler was anointing her own antennae with holy oils and self-righteousness and generally creeping everyone out, a passive Clueless told the Bug not to fret, but did not dare ask why the slime is bent since none of what is happening between him and his estranged wife is any of the Bug's damn business. If Clueless hadn't cheated on the Bug when he porked Izzy he wouldn't be in this mess.

But no! It can never be simple for these are very dangerous and creepy people who posses a very deep and painful sadomasochistic streak and love nothing more than rabid desperate lonely delusional days crying themselves to sleep each night maxed out on Valium or Paxil and dreaming about who they can terrorize next.

With a terrified twitchy look in her eyes the Bug told Clueless there can be no liberation so long as that "bitch" is still around.

As the critter slithered out under the door Clueless must have thought what a worthless piece of human excrement he is and should do something to prove to the spider feasting on a fly under Baldwin's desk just what a macho man he is, Clueless picked up a crystal bowl and hurled it against the wall while at the same time foaming at the mouth uttered the words, "Damn you Isabella."

This reeking hunk of intellectual road tar represents a dramatic escalation in the frustrating battle by whiny toads who wonder how the community so fears and despises them, when they're so honest and good.

Instead of squawking the Bug should be kicking Clueless' lazy ass to the nearest attorney, file for divorce and stop this insane we've got to blame and hate somebody instead of taking responsibility for our owns actions nonsense. The sooner the divorce is settled the sooner these creeps can move onto the next insanity.

"There is no heavenly God, there is no eternal life, there is no mercy," are a few of the words critics will soon be muttering when the most powerful man in Genoa City pushes a plan to bring Jabot Cosmetics to its knees.

Victor Newman is expected to announce soon the hiring of attorney Michael Baldwin to litigate the case of the stolen business card. Or, as the Newman Enterprises giant prefers to call it; the theft of an "official document off of a trusted administrator's desk."

Sensing the bizarre undertones and the insurmountable odds of successfully defending themselves against such a charge and because they are so desperately strapped for money they have no corporate attorney on retainer, Jabot executives are expected to consult with all-purpose lawyer John Silva who - when he was Newman's lawyer - said he has no experience in corporate law.

People in Genoa City have learned not to laugh at the absurdity. It was only six months ago when Newman, with the help of Diego Guittierez and Larry Warton, busted the Frito Bandito case wide open.

Hell-beast roars at little man
June 03, 2003

You can always tell when there's a moron in the room or driving past as you walk down the road. The moron is the one getting all of his or her news from FOX or yammering on a cell phone as they drive to the local jitter joint for coffee to go. Look! There's one now. His name is Michael Baldwin.

Baldwin is a lawyer who hasn't had a client or been in a courtroom for a year. He's been whiling away the hours all this time pining over a slimy bug. Of all the women - the term is used loosely - Christine 'Bug' Blair is the only creature Baldwin has expressed a real interest in spending the rest of his life with. Offering to marry pregnant women so that their bastard kids can grow up to tell their playmates "he's my daddy" doesn't count.

Not so long ago Baldwin thought the Bug was going to marry him even though the Bug knew she was going against her better judgment. Subconsciously she was ashamed to be taking up with the man she sent to prison for stalking and attacking her. The Bug only agreed to get married on the condition that they elope. Not caring how he got a ring on her finger, Baldwin agreed.

Only hours before the wedding Baldwin developed a case of severe guilt and confessed that he has conspired to breakup the Bug's previous marriage. It didn't matter that her marriage was over long before Baldwin got involved or that her former husband had raped her, the Bug threw a hissy fit. How could she trust a man like Baldwin who was trying to be honest with her?

Calling the marriage off the Bug slithered her way to Californian where she was able to find and have sex with her former husband even though the man was some twenty-six miles from where he was last reported to have been.

Baldwin knew damn well at that point that whatever he had with the Bug was over. The Bug would never again give him the time of day. Still, on Tuesday, like some moron who has been fired from his job but thinks the boss was only kidding and shows up for work the next day, Baldwin arrived at the Bug's bungalow with cold coffee in hand. Letting himself in - with the key the Bug forgot to ask for the first time she told him to kiss off - Baldwin seemed surprised to find the Bug dancing with her former hubby.

"What the hell are you doing here?" defective private detective Paul 'Clueless' Williams oozed.

What the hell? Why shouldn't he be there? Wasn't the Bug joking when she told the demon-spawning Baldwin to go suck on Satan's biggest boil? Maybe the Bug screaming "I want my key back" was all a dream. Perhaps a chat with the creature alone would make a difference.

Obviously, Baldwin was in the worse state of denial known to mankind so the Bug told him flat out that Clueless had moved on and into the viper pit.

"I'm not leaving anytime soon," Williams spewed like a child kicked out of the sleaze bar allowed to return after performing certain sexual favors. And to prove what a hell-beast he is, Williams screeched some terror and rage and isolationism and dread and soul-crushing hate.

"I've been trying for a long to prove what scum you are," he seethed, and as Baldwin tried to leave whipped out his standard big-bad-ass-scowling war hawk persona by laying his rapist hands on the poor little man. "If you ever interfere in my life again I will bring you down," Williams hacked.

"Do I look scared?" Baldwin squealed tossing the Bug's key onto a nearby table and did not ask why Williams and his former sexless lesbian loving employee must always use the same old tired clichés for all the good it ever does as nobody ever threatened with being taken down ever falls.

So now that Baldwin knows the Bug doesn't want his sorry ass will he stop picking at the little scabs on his arms and biting his lips until they bleed? Isn't it just about time for him to stop portraying the knuckle-dragging bug lover? There must be a real woman out there somewhere for him. A woman he won't have to pray to morning and night and erect tiny shrines in her honor.

Watching Baldwin tearing up clumps of earth and holding them up to the sky in his shaking fists and imploring the Universe why won't the Bug love me has really become an embarrassment. Unless Baldwin has no shame he needs to end his groveling.

Note: Six years ago this month Baldwin was released from prison.

Sociopathic psycho of the year
May 26, 2003

For a man thought once to have a functioning brain Michael Baldwin isn't very smart. What part of you are a disgusting piece of human excrement and I never want to see you again did he not understand? It's one thing to be in denial but pleading with the woman who kicked him to the curb to forget what happened and marry him anyway is plain insanity.

Does Baldwin not know that his love bug slithered out of their Illinois motel room that day and went straight to California to have sex with the man who raped her?

Baldwin's ignorance is similar to that of a man thrown out by his roommate who returned to the home and hid in an attic crawl space for nearly six weeks, spying on the roommate through a telephone tap and hidden baby monitors. When caught, the man fled in a stolen vehicle, then returned and left his ex-roommate a note reading, "I will always be watching you."

When Christine 'Bug' Blair returned to the city she went straight to the law firm she owns with Baldwin. Assuming the critter would no longer be able to stand being in the same room with him Baldwin asked where the Bug had been for two days. Getting no specific answer Baldwin presumed a Sears-educated lawyer like Blair would be in such demand she could pick and choose which law firm she'll work at next. Sadly, the Bug reported she had not made a decision.

For now Blair will stick around. She hasn't worked a single law case since her return so a few more months will hardly affect the bottom line. Almost one year to the day, the Bug said that thanks to her the Baldwin & Williams law firm had become "a world wide operation." Not bad for a two-lawyer operation with fewer clients.

On his knee pads, Baldwin pleaded with the Bug as if she were the last woman on earth. "I would have flapped my arms to find you," he whined, meaning literally he would have become the only man to ever fly without an aircraft to be with his bug. That he had made no effort to find the creature did not matter and was justification for asking the Bug to forget everything and marry him.

Why Baldwin did not just reach right in and wrap his gnarled wart-crusted little demon fingers around the karma and rip out the very soul of all that is fair and good and decent, and in its place drive a rusty black spike of absurdity and insult and moronic dumbed-down crap that makes sane people want to run off to the woods with a case of very old whiskey and never come back until inane soaps about bad sex and dysfunctional relationships are proven to cause screaming brain tumors remains an unanswered question.

"I'd honor you and love you every day for the rest of our lives," Baldwin actually said as if praying to Satan would make him a better person. "We belong together. You're good for me," he continued in praise of the Bug until the slimy disease-producing microorganism squealed, "You make me sick."

Slam, bang goes the giant mallet of inanity, pounding even lower the national level of intelligence which of course also makes you say, what? Are these people goddamn insane? Absolutely zero elaboration on this item is required at this time. Sit there and think about it and be thoroughly creeped out.

Dead man walking!

May 8, 2003

Cultural canker sore dizzy Izzy Williams was attacked here Thursday by a rampaging out of control Christine 'Bug' Blair narrowly escaping with her life.

Returning from a disastrous elopement in Illinois where she discovered her soon to be husband had used Izzy as a stooge to breakup a previous marriage, the Bug went straight to the Williams apartment to demand Izzy tell where her smuck of a husband was.

Without specifically giving away the location Izzy would say only that she and her husband were in the process of moving to California and was immediately accused by the Bug of running from the past.

"How long do you think it will last when he finds out what you did?," the Bug raged.

Aware that her deceptive ass was busted to high heaven and that Michael Baldwin had ratted her out, Izzy laid claim to the Bug's former husband.

Practicing her most smuggiest facial expressions Izzy burped, "We've worked hard to pull our lives together [and] we deserve a chance to make a life for our family."

Noticing that Izzy was not terrified and traumatized enough by creatures who come to her door late at night looking like Casper the ghost, the Bug went for Izzy's throat, wrapped her white claws tightly and squeezed forcing her victim down on a sofa again demanding to be told where Izzy's husband was.

When Izzy refused to talk the Bug released her death grip. For a moment it appeared as if the slime had realized in one sad sighing punch how utterly and embarrassingly foolish she looked fighting over the man who had raped her and had screwed the woman struggling before her to get air flowing again.

"You're insane!" Izzy said, as the Bug agreed that crazy critters should be feared and if she ever sees Izzy with her legally married to husband again there is no telling what a crazed Bug will do.

When the Bug had slithered out the door Izzy came to grips with the reality. Her frantically clutching to but crumbling nonetheless marriage is over. The jig is up and the one person who ripped away her notions of living happily ever after must pay.

And so it was that the wheels of justice were set in motion.

Told that Baldwin and the Bug had eloped Diane Jenkins just so happened to go to their law office late this night with a wedding gift. She had no idea that either the Bug or Baldwin had returned from Illinois and who in their right minds would go on a honeymoon after the marriage ceremony? Surely Baldwin would be at his desk.

Sure enough, there Baldwin was having a fit and listening again to his alter-ego. His life in ruins, Baldwin has lost the only albino woman he's ever loved and subsequently the will to live. And although Diane had pretty much heard it all before on this particular occasion what Baldwin was saying scared her. Moreover, his drinking from a bottle of booze terrified her. So before leaving Diane warned Baldwin not to drive while intoxicated.

It was at that moment a child of four could have seen what's coming. The hints were practically jumping up and down and shouting. The smell of death is in the air. A dead man is walking toward his grave. The man is Michael Baldwin. But will anyone ever know for sure who killed him?

Bug kicks Baldwin to the curb!

May 7, 2003

What a sad little man Michael Baldwin turned out to be. Bawling over a woman. Not just any woman but one that acted as if she were doing him a favor by agreeing to get married. The righteous Christine 'Bug' Blair whose farts should be bottled by Jabot Cosmetics and sold as air freshener they smell so sweet.

On his kneepads before the Holy Bug the phlegm-hacking Baldwin spilled his guts Wednesday. It was he who conspired to set Izzy Brana up with the Bug's former husband. It was he who had the courage to toy with the Bug's life. It weren't no big deal. He did the Bug a favor. Now the critter should marry him so that they can live the good life.

"I don't want to be anywhere near you. I never want to see you again as long as I live!" the Bug squealed, thus ripping yet another hair from the soft downy fur of Baldwin's desperately thin and increasingly mangy sense of integrity and hope.

Two years of plotting and scheming and general sadness down the drain. What was Baldwin thinking? Did he not know that the Bug and Paul 'Clueless' Williams were destined to be together? That they are the late model version of Victor and Nikki Newman?

What is to become of these ooze buckets whose opinions and decisions have been overly influenced by misguided personal beliefs? Will all the atrocities  be swept under the rug?

Nosirree, There are loose ends to tie. The Bug will fly to Los Angeles to tell Clueless that their small-minded choices and snap decisions and hate was misdirected. They were sucked in by those evildoers but by god the Bug will rip out their tonsils with her razor-sharp teeth and feed them to the little demon that lives in her colon. There will be hell to pay.

Already holding onto a sham of a marriage Izzy Williams will be confronted with her deception, perhaps threatened with being declared an unfit mother and like Diane Jenkins banished from Genoa City until or if she is granted permission to return to torment some other poor excuse for a man.

Already reduced to a whimpering sad little man Baldwin should be ashamed to show his face in Genoa City. Once willing to marry Izzy this would be the perfect time to maybe have a paternity test to find out if her baby was really his all along.

The Bug might demand a paternity test as it's a high probability she'd be unwilling to raise another woman's baby. There would be all that looking at the baby and seeing Izzy's image. God forbid the elite in Genoa City should raise a child without pure blood flowing in its veins.

And because he's so dumbed down and infatuated with his love bug Clueless will do what he's told. Give up his baby? If it's what the Bug so orders he'll do it and never ever mention the boy again except during those times when he remembers just what an puss oozing boil on the planet he is.

Baldwin sells out!

May 6, 2003

by Lois Hill

This is it? This is how two years of conspiring ends? This is what Michael Baldwin and Izzy Brana met secretly about? This is why Christine 'Bug' Blair went undercover? This is why Lynne Bassett put her job on the line? It's almost as bad as issuing a wanted dead or alive warrant and never finding so much as a clue as to the whereabouts of the wanted person.

After all Baldwin risked he finally got Blair to say Tuesday that she trusts him and is more than ready to go to the alter with him.

"You have no idea how much that means to me!" Baldwin exclaimed as Blair proclaimed he "earned" her blessing.

And then Baldwin's guilty conscience took over. The heavens opened up and all that is Holy descended to gather around Her Majesty, the Bug.

The sewage ran from Baldwin's mouth. Sad wispy clingings to past glory. Ever since he laid eyes on the creepy Bug he's been madly in love. Willing to do "crazy" things like, attempting to rape her. Even as he sat in prison Baldwin strained his tiny brain for an elaborate plan. He would dig up a former brothel employee who would bump and grind and get herself impregnated by the Bug's husband.

"I did it because I needed you," Baldwin confessed before the Bug.

Instantly aware that she has been played like a fiddle the Bug's eyes began glowing with a fiery rage. "Oh my freaking god you are so going to burn in hell for this," the Bug did not say. But the look on her face said it all. Baldwin is history. Now the question is; are there any planes leaving for Los Angeles in about an hour?

Conduct unbecoming a shyster

May 5, 2003

by Molly Media

Why is it that every man the creepy Christine 'Bug' Blair comes into contact with turns into a cry baby? There was rock star Danny Romalotti who always seemed like a sissy boy, then there was detective Paul Williams who has become so uncertain of his masculinity he must force himself on women and now Michael Baldwin has gone from a shady shyster to a freaky fairy afraid of his own shadow.

There's nothing wrong with sitting around talking to yourself and running all the options in whatever scam you're trying to pull off through your mind. But when your "evil" side starts talking back its time to check into the local nut house or take a massive dose of Xanax or whatever mood-altering drug is on sale this week.

Baldwin never had the problem until he checked into room #23 at a Galena, IL, resort motel. All giddy about marrying the woman he once attacked and the same woman who sent him up the river for a nice stay with the boys at Walrus Prison, Baldwin actually saw his "dark side" on Monday.

The scene was so bizarre Baldwin had to hack up the proverbial "what are you doing here?" line and without waiting for an answer told his likeness to get lost. It was as if Baldwin has seen Beelzebub before. Beelzebub lives in Baldwin's brain. They are twins.

Are you not impressed with this regression into 1950's television when the little devil would sit on one side of an incapable of thinking for itself sheep's shoulder cheering evil while a little angel sits on the other side praising God?

What you are supposed to buy into is that Baldwin has turned his life around. He's moved on!

Moving on is all the rage in Genoa City. Nick Newman is doing it. Paul Williams is doing it. Hell, just about everyone is doing it and in most cases for the sake of the children. But alas, for all the moving on they just can't get anywhere.

"Won't you let me play?" Beelzebub asks, as Baldwin, stomping his feet says no, he's in love and doesn't everyone know that love conquers evil? Hasn't everyone seen that inflicting death and destruction and taking over countries that didn't ask to be taken over is so liberating? C'mon! It's war for peace at it's lowest common denominator.

Baldwin is a big boy. He's plotted and schemed for years to get where he is today but faced with cashing in all his chips just can't bring himself to do it. The guilty conscience. The lies. The deception. The what is to become of me syndrome if my darling wife finds out.

Pick up a newspaper Mr. Baldwin. Can you not see that people lie and cheat and steal every day? Do you think they have sleepless nights? Do you think US Bank and AT&T and Citibank are talking to their alter-egos?

Get a grip Baldwin. You wanted the Bug - now marry her! Stop your sniveling and guilt. Not only is it conduct unbecoming of a shyster but coming clean now will surely cost you dearly.

The price of liberation

April 14, 2003

by Molly Media

Oh my god I swear I saw this same exact thing in a dream once and I woke up screaming and sweaty and had to go take a bath to get that grimy feeling off my body. It was Mikey Baldwin sounding out the Bug's new name on Monday. Mrs. Michael Baldwin. Mrs. Christine Baldwin. Mrs. Christine Blair Baldwin. Gag.

Mikey feels so good right now. So in love. Life has never been better. He's the happiest man on earth.

All right all right all right. It's sweet and beautiful. We got the message Mikey. The Bug has forgiven you for attacking her all those years ago and has followed God's message to turn the other cheek to the extreme by giving you her claw in marriage.

Before you rejoice in the streets or spend money on an expensive home for your new bride (you aren't going to live in that condo where her last husband raped her - are you?) get a grip. You can champion true love in all its beautiful mutated ungodly forms all you want but this marriage will never see the light of day.

We know this to be true because of all the hype and temptation to encourage this mis-match. Here are two people (sic) with no chemistry. They were, like so many other couples, never meant to be together. And as much fun it is to degrade this event and imagine - as some have said - Gina Roma cranking out "Through the Eyes of Love" or some such weepy-eyed tune during a Wal-Mart wedding, just strap me down and rip out my fingernails with rusty pliers right now. I mean, Christ!

No amount of goddess smiling upon the blessed couple can change the course of history. As sure as I'm typing these words right now that worm, Lynne Bassett, will find the smoking gun.

In typical downer style I'm guessing the major bummer for Mikey will take place at the alter of some chapel of love like the Nikki Newman/Brad Carlton farce. It'll come as a total surprise if Mikey's co-conspirator and the Bug's former hubby aren't there as best man and matron of dis-honor or at least invited guests performing their final act of non-aggression on the way to catch a plane for California where they'll start a new life.

When the preacher asks if anyone objects to another bogus Genoa City marriage Bassett will rush forward with proof of Mikey's sleaziness and the Bug without question will say that Mikey is as vile and as insane as she knew all along before running out of the chapel in tears.

And there on the sideline will be Lynne. All smug and smirky and proud of herself. But what will she have accomplished? While liberating her boss she will have left behind in the ashes another young child. The victim of another broken marriage.

Living with a creep

March 31, 2003

What a weasel Michael Baldwin is. The belly-slithering rodent showed up at the Williams residence on Monday huffing and puffing how private dick Paul Williams had done something "ugly and sick" and he, lily-livered Mikey Baldwin was going to rip out Williams' tonsils with his razor-sharp teeth and feed him to the little demon that lives in his colon.

Problem was - and no doubt Baldwin knew beforehand - Williams wasn't home so he threw around a lot of verbal daggers aimed at the dick for the enjoyment of his alleged partner in some grand conspiracy and Williams' most bonehead wife, dizzy Izzy.

"He sometimes goes shopping or he could be jogging," Izzy said of her husband's whereabouts as if the pot bellied pig Williams has ever jogged a day in his life. And then suddenly remembering that she should be scared that her husband had done something ugly quipped, "You're scaring me."

"You're living with a maniac," Baldwin oinked, and seemed shocked when Izzy said she knew but, well, she's got priorities. Besides, she's trying to save an unsalvageable marriage.

"That's probably for the best," Baldwin remarked as the flying monkeys overhead rolled their eyes and wondered why Baldwin wasn't making any sense. Should Izzy leave because she's living with a maniac or should she stay because working on a failed marriage is safer than living with a maniac?

"Just keep him away from my fiancée or I swear to God he’ll answer to me," Baldwin added as if swearing to his fire-breathing god would make violence for peace acceptable and did not bother to "adjust" himself because there was nothing to adjust.

Baldwin was further humiliated when Izzy said she can't keep her husband away from other women but unfortunately did not remind Baldwin that real men don't ask women to do their dirty work or that based on the time Baldwin spent in prison for attacking his now fiancée he was in no position to judge anybody.

The conversation became so contrived Izzy began blaming herself. There must have been a way she could have known that her husband was going to rape a woman. Gosh, if only she had a direct connection to the pet psychic she might have been able to do something. But, on second thought, no. Izzy has a chance to work out her marriage problems and by golly she'll fight for her man.

It's truly amazing how some people can be so ignorant. They like creating problems where none exist or believe the sky is green when it's really blue. If she'd just shut the hell up she might come out of this mess smelling like a rose. But no, Izzy had to conjure up more demons. Like that scum-bucket, Lynne 'Yes-Boss' Bassett.

According to Izzy's warped thinking, Bassett must have hired Kelly Simmons to discover what the "deep dark secret" she and Baldwin are trying to hide even though her husband dug up her past long ago and told her then that he doesn't care what she did in the past. And when Baldwin told Izzy that Simmons is really Christine 'Bug' Blair she was shocked. Why hadn't she seen the similarity? Is she taking too much Zoloft?

Fearing Baldwin would do something further to drag out their perceived dilemma, Izzy cautioned, "You'll open a can of worms you don’t want opened."

Feeling generous, Baldwin said he'd give the private dick a "free pass" this time but watch out next time or he'd really huff and he'd really puff and maybe blow the detective down on a feather bed littered with rose pedals.

The worms in the can these people opened two years ago are so rotten even the players can't stand the stench. Regardless, they keep trying to make something dramatic out of what has turned into a comedy of errors. Not withstanding Mr. Williams' question to the Bug on Monday when he asked of Izzy, "Do you think she’s hiding something about her past?"

Is Williams taking top much Zoloft too? He looked into Izzy's past and said he didn't care. And since the Bug told him on Monday "there is no future for us" why dredge up the past?

Go home to the little woman Mr. Williams. Your baby needs a diaper change and a father to raise him. And while you're flushing those disposables down the toilet and into the landfill where they will take a century to decompose remember that it was you who couldn't keep his zipper zipped. It was you who porked a total stranger you had known for only a few days. Now it is you who should pay the price.

Searching for the Holy Grail

March 27, 2003

Let's flip through the calendar. How many weeks has it been since the creepy crusader Bug returned from her soul cleansing journey disguised as Kelly Simmons? Three? Four? More?

It's been a good six weeks and to this day dizzy Izzy Williams still hasn't figured out who Simmons is even though she's seen her good-for-nothing husband speaking with the toad on a number of occasions and, coincidentally, the Bug returned at right around the same time.

Who knows what drugs this gang of seedy slobs who cannot be bothered to make their lies remotely credible when they stand in mockery before the world is taking? This question is raised again because on February 10, detective Paul 'Clueless' Williams got down on his knee pads and begged Izzy to take him back so that they could be a family again and move on. Izzy was happier then a pig in mud until Clueless said he wanted one more chance to see the Bug. Izzy told him at the time to go to Hell.

Yet here they were again more than a month later having almost the exact conversation! Did they get caught up in the Carlton family time warp in which people can't remember things they've discussed and rehashed endlessly only days earlier?

This time, Clueless said he needs to see the critter one more time so that he can have "closure" which really doesn't close anything at all but is one of those cute buzzwords people toss around because it makes them look as ignorant as they are.

And again on Thursday, Izzy threw a fit.

"Oink, oink, oink," she may as well have said because whatever swill rolls from her lips has no impact on anything. She's a desperate woman living with a despicable man during disillusioned times.

Likewise, Michael Baldwin is no better. During another boring conversation with the Bug - at the still being painted former bug nest where Clueless frequently went during the Bug's absence to rest his weary mind but hasn't gone near since Kelly Simmons arrived - Baldwin painfully rehashed the night leading up to the Bug's mysterious journey out of town. Not once has he asked the albino where she went.

The more Baldwin chattered the more edgy the Bug became. And the more he might have imagined how the creature he's so in love with is exactly the type of adorably vacuous nightmare of faux-sex and misassembled brain parts we all imagine her to be the closer to the door the Bug got until she finally asked him to leave.

The Bug's body language, of course, made Baldwin suspicious. Was there something she wasn't telling him? Like just about everything that happened after the grand baby christening? Told he doesn't need to know and to please leave, Baldwin's brilliant powers of deduction went into overdrive.

Let's see here, you're telling me to get out. You don't want to talk about why you left town and came back dressed as some Southern hick, you're shacked up here with a dyke who works for your ex-husband, ah ha! You were "forced" upon by that scumbag Williams! Weren't you?

So what if she was raped? What's a whimpering boob like Baldwin going to do about it? Huff and puff and blow Williams? Because, really, that's about all Baldwin can do - and you know he will. Confront Williams, make a big scene, tell Williams what a slug he is (which will have zero impact on Williams because he knows what he is) and if Baldwin is lucky he'll get to scurry away without being punched out again.

All of Baldwin's - it really is a whole new day - elation might have had some meaning weeks ago. As is, this sniveling back-slapping I'll always be there for your highness even though it's so damn apparent the Queen liked being raped and wants it again and cares nothing for me is what most people on the planet can't watch without feeling this odd uncomfortable twinge deep in their colon.

March 11, 2003

by Lois Hill

It's hard to envision attorney Michael Baldwin rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up as he scampered each day for his Bible and prayed to a fire-breathing god that his love bug might still be alive and for reassurance that life would go on without the woman of his wildest dreams. But that's what Baldwin says he's been doing all this time the Bug has been frolicking among the missing.

"God, you’re back!" the elated attorney said Tuesday when Kelly Simmons pulled off her sunglasses and wig and stood before him once again as Christine 'Bug' Blair, crusader at large.

"You’re back safe and sound. Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?" Baldwin asked the totally self-centered creature and did notice the hatred oozing from her antennae.

"I didn't mean to worry you," the creature squeaked in her new found new-age babble and so what if I've been gone for months and never called or left a message because that's just how creepy and self-righteous and it's all about me rhetoric that drips off we slimy bugs.

To counter all the venomous spewing Baldwin ignored the fact that he has been emotionally raped and nearly got down on his knees in awe of the Bug. Whatever her reasons for leaving they were good enough for him. Questions left unanswered were fine.

After all those prayers Baldwin did not get that it wasn't his god who had been listening but rather Satan who saw and heard and sent the Bug back to him. Had Baldwin not been so infatuated he would have been able to see the she-devil's horns emerging and her voice change to an evil cackle when the Bug demanded he explain himself.

Just how did Baldwin know about what happened that night of the christening? The former husband's current wife told him? For that, the Bug hacked up a chuck of phlegm and spat it right in Baldwin's face. Information like that is explicitly personal! And why was the former husband's wife confiding in him at all?

"I'm not big on religion but I learned to pray. I prayed every day that you'd come home to me," Baldwin said.

The Bug is back alright which just goes to prove the old adage. Be very careful what you pray for. You may just get it.

January 6, 2003

Baldwin fears license revocation

Not counting the time Victor Newman asked a crusading critter known as the 'Bug' to have attorney Michael Baldwin's license to practice law revoked simply because he doesn't like him, Baldwin's license has only been suspended once.

The suspension followed Baldwin's incarceration for sexually harassing Christine Blair and was reinstated upon Baldwin's release and a brief probationary period.

Partnered now in a thriving law practice and hopeful of marrying Blair, Baldwin has never shown the slightest apprehension of taking on the creepiest of clients or cases.

That all changed on the day after Christmas.

Appearing very squirmy, Baldwin said last week that representing Diane Jenkins in a child custody case or against pending criminal charges in connection with the recent Abbott pool house arson case could cost him his license to practice law.

Observers thought at first that Baldwin's bizarre statement may have been due to an overdose of Xanax or some other drug he might be snorting. Or, it could have been merely a slip of the tongue.

There is presently a big government push for "tort reform" that the public should be wary of, but this new attempt to curtail consumer protection by trampling on the rights of citizens who seek recourse from doctors and lawyers for malpractice and from big corporations for defective products could hardly cause Baldwin worry. In fact, Baldwin should be especially happy as the new reform would place a liability cap on malpractice jury awards.

On Monday, a very jittery Baldwin reaffirmed his decision to represent Jenkins, cautioned, "I don't come cheap" and demanded a sizeable retainer.

With more money than she'll ever be able to spend, Jenkins was somewhat annoyed that Baldwin makes his living off the misery of others, but feeling confident that Baldwin will do his best to defend her, Jenkins confided that Jack Abbott offered a deal in which he and his wife would lie to the police in exchange for full custody of a baby they share.

Asked if she should accept the offer, Baldwin put forth the absurd notion that Abbott could provide a safe environment for the child and that Jenkins should consider it a "plus".

As for Jenkins' concern that Abbott's wife, Phyllis, is a "lunatic", Baldwin said, "She’s matured over the years" [and] would probably be a fine mother.

Baldwin's preposterous statements should have raised Jenkins' suspicion, but his verbal images used over and over to gain her complicity were apparently too overpowering. Although she had yet to pay a dime of the requested retainer, Baldwin warned Diane to keep her mouth shut and not say anything about the case[s] to anyone except him. If the past is any indication, the instruction fell on deaf ears as Jenkins routinely ignores such commands discussing her personal life with anyone willing to listen.

In a related development and despite the late hour, all-purpose attorney John Silva was meeting at the RoadKill Cafe with super-overconfident clients Jack and Phyllis Abbott. Systematically ready to move in for the kill, Silva had the legal paperwork neatly prepared which would launch a one-sided baby custody hearing.

Nice hate junkies that they are, the Abbotts have agreed to give Jenkins liberal visitation rights and nothing more. Provided they can ram the deal down the throat of some sleepy judge it will be pretty much a slam dunk.

A dark cloud of doom hovered over the threesome when Phyllis mentioned that Baldwin is representing Jenkins and that they had asked him to step aside. Knowing the Abbotts are as nasty as they come, Silva suspected foul play.

"It was all very kosher," Jack said of his bribery attempt.

Perhaps Silva was wondering just how in hell he can possibly resolve to do anything worthwhile or substantial to counter such painful and demoralizing levels of the cultural poison that the Abbotts represent. Or, perhaps he was just tired. For whatever reason Silva said of Baldwin, "I know he doesn't want to lose his license to practice law".

For all its belligerence, the law license reference boggles the mind. Are quasi-religious group from Madison going around this town warning lawyers not to represent women like Jenkins because she's considered evil and that defending her is the same as rewarding evil?

Anxious to glorify their greed and trickery the only thing holding the Abbotts back was Diane's signature. Nothing would have pleased them more than to see Diane walk into the RoadKill and sign on the dotted line. Alas, it was late and undoubtedly Diane had put her baby down for the night and was probably catching some Z's herself. It would be rough, but somehow they'd wait until tomorrow and hope that maybe one of the longest December days in recent memory would come to an end.

Imagine the adrenaline rush when Jenkins strolled in at that very moment. Jack was so elated he didn't bother to ask where his son was. Had Diane woke the poor boy and stashed him with the hotel sitting service? Was the small child alone in the hotel room? That Diane was there at the moment doing the right thing was all that mattered to Jack.

Dishing out even more lies, Jack told Diane that by signing away most of her rights she would be able to see their son "whenever you wish" except, of course, for the times when Phyllis would withhold visitation as a means to inflict more of her special blend of hate.

When Diane finished looking over the documents pens sprung out of pockets and shoved in her face. Before signing, Diane asked Phyllis if she promised to be a good mommy. Phyllis twitched and indicated Diane should expect nothing less and did not say just look at what a good mother I've been to my biological son whom I haven't lifted a finger to locate.

Cashing in on the emotional moment, Diane tore the documents to shreds. "I'm not an idiot!" she snickered and then left looking like she had just eaten a bowl of live black scorpions and loved every bite.

January 3, 2003

Baldwin takes Jenkins case!

Except for all the times when the electric cattle prods of insight and inspiration and wishing I could be naked in a hot tub with Jill Abbott aren't poking me, I've been finding myself praying that somebody would tell Michael Baldwin to get off the crack or whatever drug he's been snorting lately and get into some serious law practice.