Colleen Carlton top news - 2003
See Also: J.T. Hellstrom  Brad Carlton  John Abbott

Who's watching the kid?
December 5, 2003

The Genoa City News has learned that fire victim and target for terror Colleen Carlton has been placed under top-level surveillance!

Frequently seen traveling around the city alone and apparently going to school on her own when she's not hanging with her best buds at the local coffee shop by day, club for all ages by night, Carlton is apparently unaware that the chore of watching her is a trade off between the hunkmonkey she loves and the coffee shop manager.

Carlton's father, Brad Carlton is said to be concerned that with Internet predator Kevin Fisher still on the loose it is J.T. Hellstrom's responsibility to watch his daughter. And in the event Hellstrom can't be with Ms Carlton at all hours of the day he is to farm the job out to Newman Jitter Joint employee Cody Dixon.

Besides having to run the shop all by his lonesome now that owners Nick and Sharon Newman are again engaged in more pressing matters, Dixon also chauffeurs Ms Carlton and her pal, Lily Winters to their homes whenever they've had their fill of coffee and meaningless chat.

Sources say Mr. Carlton would watch his own daughter were it not for the fact he's used to other family members raising his kids and is usually too busy sucking down huge gulps of nitrous oxide through a tube attached to a tank with the words DOW CHEMICAL written on it.

Dances with hunkmonkeys
by Brent Kellogg  
December 5, 2003

Genoa City University students campus-wide were distressed to learn late this week that high school student Colleen Carlton will not be attending this year's first annual Winter Ball.

Billed as a "ball" - when it's nothing more than a relatively unheard of these days college dance - some students anguished over the fact that their one chance to meet the girl dumb enough to enter a empty restaurant, walk into a freezer thinking her grandfather might be inside and get herself locked in by a psycho arsonist will be missed.

Excited at the thought of being able to spend massive amounts of her father's money on a new dress from Fenmore's Department Store, Carlton took the bad news with a grain of salt. While her hopes of going to her first college dance with college student J.T. Hellstrom were dashed, Carlton said she fully understood the reasoning behind the last minute cancellation.

Too lazy to get off her fat ass and fly to Genoa City at the drop of a hat as she's done so many times in the past on trivial wasted trips, Traci Connelly reportedly ordered Brad Carlton to have their daughter on a plane and flown to New York so that she can see with her own eyes that the ordeal of being trapped in a fire had no lingering effects.

That her daughter's trauma happened weeks ago, the teenager spent time as a patient at the God Have Mercy Medical Center and she was advised by phone that everything turned out fine, was obviously of little concern to Mrs. Connelly at the time. She couldn't be bothered to leave New York or even call her daughter in person.

Now, because she claims to be going off on another book signing tour, the author of something like three books nobody has ever read and are now in the $1.99 bin at Barnes & Noble expects Ms Carlton to stop what she's doing and fly to New York.

Asked if it isn't just the least bit strange that his former wife zoomed to Genoa City when she heard her daughter had run away, but couldn't stop eating Bon Bons long enough to do the same thing when she heard Ms Carlton was in the hospital, Brad Carlton said that the family owes Mrs. Connelly a debt of gratitude because she's "been great by letting [Colleen] stay here with us."

As for the first of its kind anywhere dance his daughter will miss, Mr. Carlton said, "There will be other dances."

Lasagna to go
August 5, 2003

Teens found safe and sound
July 3, 2003

Who will save the teens?
by Brent Kellogg
June 02, 2003

Our day will come
March 24, 2003

Absolutely sure she is sixteen years of age and as ready as the best whores Genoa City has to offer to have sex, Colleen Carlton badgered hunkmonkey J.T. Hellstrom again on Monday as to when the day is coming that she can expected a good poking from him.

Carlton must not have heard Hellstrom the first time they had this conversation. He told her then - as he did today - that when the time is right her wish will come true.

At their "hideaway" - a secret location all teens in Genoa City know the location of - Carlton acted out in typical demonstration of what happens when most of ones brain is left behind in the birth canal.

"Can you be happy if we're not having sex?" she salivated, reminding J.T. that he's not getting any these days and she'll eagerly open the love connection should J.T. say the word.

Dismayed and maybe thinking the time had come to dump the little twit because she's so obviously uneducated in the ways of sex, J.T. continued to pacify Colleen. Yes, he's a grade 'A' hunkmonkey. He's had more women in his short life than he cares to count but all that is ancient history. He's a changed man willing to live the life of a monk if it means the day will come when he can pop a cherry. All Colleen has to do is wait until she's legal.

"Do you really think so?" Colleen asked, apparently fearing that some time between now and her eighteenth birthday her love nest may be invaded by a swarm of African bees sure to chase J.T. away.

Even after J.T. said again, for like the fifth or sixth time, that her time to feel his weapon of mass disappointment is coming, Colleen had to asked, "When?" And again, J.T said, "When the time is right." And again, Colleen had to ask, "How will we know?"

At this point J.T. was befuddled. Was he speaking a foreign language? Why hadn't Colleen understood a word he had said? Was she snorting powered spider monkey dung again?

"Oh honeychile. You are righteous and good but you obviously can't grasp the English language. I said we'll wait until the time is right and that time isn't now. Don't you know about the Hello Kitty vibrators? You really should get one. I hear the Winnie the Pooh model is a fantastic representation of holding my pulsing manly manhood in your hand," J.T. did not say but should have because this was exactly how nauseating this mindless conversation had become.

And to prove -as the dumbed down do so often in Genoa City - that they are pretty much brain dead and should be locked away in some cave, Colleen blurt out that she was worried J.T. might go elsewhere for some sex with a real woman.

Not J.T. Not now. The "old" J.T. would have had sex with anything on two feet but what he has with Colleen is, "so much more than sex." Gosh, it's like, you know, love!

Not yet out of college and never will be if he doesn't start attending class, the twenty-something year old can't find a job better than working at some sissy boutique yet here he is, in love and ready to settle down and start a family as soon as Colleen is ready. The American dream.

"But I hate sneaking around to see you," Colleen sputtered, confirming right then and there that she's nothing more than a ignorant little girl suffering from advanced memory loss. It had only been but a few days since Brad Carlton had given his blessing to his daughter's desire to hang with hunkmonkeys so long as said monkeys don't "hurt" his little girl.

Yet here the sickly whimpering Carlton was. Guilty of both creating the fear and succumbing to it, sinking into it, wallowing in it, even as she champions fear as her very cause. This is the ultimate sin. This sex wolf is really just a sheep, scared to death of the very cultural darkness and rage she herself generates. Ah, the irony. Isn't Colleen's time just about up? Do we really need to hear the endless regurgitation?

As for Hellstrom, either screw the bitch and get it over with J.T., or refuse to participate in these meaningless dialogs which serve no purpose other than to make you like as dumb as you are for wanting anything to do with jail bait babes.

HUNKMONKEY TURNS DOWN JAIL BAIT!

March 6, 2003

It could only be described as a quest for 15 minutes of fame that turned into but a few humiliating moments of shame Thursday as underage sex goddess Colleen Carlton put herself out there - twitching and dripping with lust - for hunkmonkey Jeffery Todd Hellstrom to ravage in the worse way and then maybe rate her body and looks.

All hot and bothered and wanting desperately to satisfy Colleen's desire, J.T. unbuttoned her blouse while at the same time gurgling "don't do this" and assuring the little girl that her cooing and all but sucking Lemon Coke off his toes was a turn on and not hurting him as much as it would hurt her.

"Oh my freaking God I am so going to hell for this," J.T. did not sigh as he came to his senses and looking around the playhouse where Billy Abbott had masturbated more than once, realized, "This isn’t the time or the place" and instantly got to work promising Colleen he had so wanted her and had really really poked so many other girls in his short life but they were, you know, just whores unlike Colleen who is so special.

"You won't make me wait forever - will you?" a disappointed Colleen squealed and amazingly, no lightning bolts struck her dumbass head zapping her adorable blind raging ignorance.

Clinging to what remains of his shriveled soul, J.T. said Colleen's time would come but first she'd have to enjoy what they have now by thinking of each other alone in their individual beds at night.

This story, of course, had all the most delicious elements of cheap-ass soap opera trash but it was hard not to admire Colleen's spit sipping and sad pleas to be injected with what she hoped would be a large penis but would have probably cried later had she actually seen JT's organ.

But there was so much more to it than that. There was the new and wickedly aggressive path Brad and Ashley Carlton took on this day.

Sniveling to his sperm-stealing wife how Colleen's love life is "tearing her apart" and that she seems "genuinely sorry she’s disappointing us," Brad could not understate how he had given J.T. the green light to do pretty much anything with his daughter so long as Colleen did not get "hurt" in the process. Doing anything less would have, "made them more determined to see each other," Brad squirmed.

"You’re right," the mostly brain dead Ashley sputtered in flagrant defiance of every moral and ideological tenet Genoa City itself was founded on but which has been eroded over the years by hypocritical freaks like the Carltons and the Newmans and the Abbotts.

"Seems funny. We have our very own Romeo and Juliet," Ashley hurled, taking the thuggish audacity to an entirely new level.

"He’s a hot shot college boy," Brad said of J.T. adding he was not sure how long J.T. would suffer with the medical anomaly known as blue balls.

"You’re talking about sex?" idiot Ashley babbled and then sickly asked if the kids may have already crossed the line.

"I hope not," Brad replied with a heavy heart before actually saying, "The hardest part of me is that I can’t do a damn thing about it," which of course isn't true until you understand that Brad is about as useful as teats on a bull and deadens the collective soul with his inability to recall that even Traci Connelly had the wherewithal to have J.T. arrested and warned the hunkmonkey she would bring the wrath of God down on him unless he stayed away from her daughter.

DADDY APPROVES! BOY-MAN CAN HAVE UNDERAGE DAUGHTER

March 5, 2003

Moving Colleen Carlton back under their roof was undoubtedly one of the dumbest things boneheads Brad and Ashley Carlton have done since Ashley forgave Dr. Olivia Winters for sleeping with Brad. Together, they sure blasted the living hell out of Colleen's desire to have hunkmonkey J.T. Hellstrom poke her - didn't they?

The adults weren't even home when Colleen moved back in! What in Ashley's boring life was so important she couldn't be home? Did Brad not tell the sperm thief his daughter would be returning and that they needed to keep an eye on the little sex freak? And wasn't Colleen told to move in after school? Did she ever go to school?

At the very same time Brad was telling J.T. it was okay to have his way with Colleen so long as he didn't do anything to make a father grumpy, trailing one step behind Colleen like an American Flyer wagon was Lily Winters lugging a box of Colleen's porn collection and wondering where the rest of it was into the Carlton home.

Having been told Brad would fetch the bulk of the stuff, Lily asked Colleen how she'd be able to sip spit with J.T. with the adults nowhere in sight and how romantic it is that a little girl like Colleen has it all figured out and how lucky she is to maybe be walking around soon rubbing her protruding belly.

This was the gist of Colleen's goal in life. To have sex with a boy she's known less than a year but long enough to know J.T. is the one she wants to take her virginity. And, really, who cares she's still in high school and squeezing zits? Colleen is itching for some nice light whippings administered by a naked grinning boy-man and some joyful thrashing in the name of fertility and purity.

Because living under her father's roof changed nothing, Colleen hurried off to her cousin's hideaway to prepare for the naughty pagan fest she had planned with J.T. and was pleasantly pleased when he arrived to say Brad had given him complete freedom to have his way with her so long as he promised not to "hurt".

As if to prove most of her brain had been left behind in the birth canal, Colleen told J.T., "It’s going to be harder to slip away now" and urged him to take advantage of what could be their last time alone. Noticing how hot she was, Colleen asked J.T. to take his shirt off and then told him, "I want you to make love to me right now."

Up for the mission, J.T. took the little girl down like an ancient Roman sex god might have done as in a nearby cave the she-wolf goddess nursed the twins Romulus and Remus and priests gathered and sacrificed goats and young dogs in honor of their strong sexual instinct.

As the cheers and applause rang out that J.T. would spill his seed causing a nice little human life to grow and Colleen could learn the hard way that babies having babies is not all gothy and cool and sexy, there was hope J.T. would not forget to acknowledge that deep-down, gnawing, sly urge he's doubtlessly harboring to rush out into the street and wait for the laughing naked boys to tell him that becoming the pagan lust-monkey he so wishes to be can only be accomplished with girls eighteen and older and that if the demons allow this crime to be committed they should be hung by their nipples and poked with sharp sticks by giddy unwanted children from the nearby orphanage.

DO AS WE SAY, NOT AS WE DO

March 4, 2003

A shocked and shuddering Brad Carlton found it hard to believe that his daughter is in love and took steps Tuesday to keep Colleen Carlton under control. What Mr. Carlton is not expected to do is to sit the teen down and say look, you don't want to turn out like me or your aunt who became your step-mother, do you?

I was the pool boy and hedge clipper who took a fancy to your now step-mother Ashley and then fell for her bon-bon eating fat sister Traci, married her, got her pregnant with you, began sucking around Ashley again until your mother dumped me then had sex with Lauren Fenmore and when she wouldn't have me moved onto Nikki Newman who dumped me at the alter before I married Ashley. And that doesn't take into consideration my nightmare with Cassandra Rawlins or Ashley's affair with Blade Bladeson and Kurt Costner or how Ashley was so desperate to have a baby she stole another man's sperm.

Unless you want to become like us Colleen, do as we say and not as we do.

Mostly because young slouchy teenagers are so strung out on inane puppy love, the focus in Genoa City shifted again Tuesday from semi-boredom to the mindless misadventures of the city's elite teens.

With nothing better to publish in the Walnut Grove Academy newspaper, like, articles on how the student body should be demanding the removal of drug dealers selling dope on campus to empty-headed jaded students or editorials protesting the lack of hallway monitors to keep student cell phone use to a minimum, the paper ran a spread on imported first year student Colleen Carlton kissing her supposed to be in college hunkmonkey, J.T. Hellstrom.

The newspaper piece included a photo of Carlton and Hellstrom kissing at the recent Valentine's Day dance which wasn't even held at the school and caught the eye of Carlton's otherwise too busy screwing his wife's best friend to have an interest with bonding with his mostly estranged troubled daughter, Brad Carlton.

The article so enraged Carlton he stopped spoiling his very pregnant wife with orange juice and roses and pretty much ignored Mrs. Carlton's renewed cooing of the Genoa City theme song, "I’m so lucky to have you and our family".

Forcing himself like cheese through a strainer, Brad squeezed out a "I can’t believe this" grunt, and then confessed he had been thinking of removing the monkey from his father-in-law's back by returning Colleen to his home where she rightfully should be living.

Likewise, Ashley honked that an old man like her father shouldn't be baby-sitting a teenage girl, and agreed that because Colleen is "part of this family" she should be living under the Carlton roof.

Happy that his sperm-stealing wife would go along with his plan, Brad had a sudden brain fart. Gosh, poor decrepit near death Yawn Abbott had been dealing with his troubled daughter for all these months but if Colleen came to live with her daddy how would daddy and his bride deal with the defiant little peewee?

Ashley said no, she wouldn't call Colleen defiant. The kid who had turned their world upside down was simply in love with a hunkmonkey. Like puberty, it happens all the time.

"At her age?" a horrified Brad responded so deadpan and twisted, it just might be real that young girls who may not have yet had their first period are wanton to have sex with divine sex-positive intellectual funk-demons.

Brad was beside himself. After all the precautions he had not personally taken to assure Colleen didn't hook up with J.T. on the night of the VD dance there she was in the school paper sipping spit from J.T.'s lips right under her father's nose.

Between gasps of liquid nitrogen, Brad's bitchin' wife puked up chunks of green pile. "She's very resourceful," Ashley said of Colleen before adding that Colleen hadn't gotten away with anything and had been "caught" at something she wasn't trying to get caught at since it was Billy Abbott and that dinkwad old man's responsibility to watch Colleen but who had been more concerned with shack up rentals and going to the office late at night for no reason.

No Homer Simpson he, Brad sat upon his throne of live writhing serpents and thought for a moment. Gosh, how sweet. His daughters first love. But, gasp, why had Colleen fallen for a hunkmonkey like J.T.? Why couldn't she have fallen for a Nick Newman or Diego Guittierez? Damn, life was dealing his daughter an ugly hand.

Concluding Colleen would not lower herself to her father's standards, fire shot from Brad's eyes. He summoned Colleen home to threaten her. Being seen swapping spit in public was a violation of the rules punishable by a call to her mother in New York. God and Colleen both knew the pain and agony they'd go through should Traci Connelly return to Genoa City to bawl and snivel and how helpless and disgusting Traci is.

But, because of all the turmoil going on in the Carlton life and maybe because he might decide to sleep with Olivia Winters one more time or Ashley might run out and steal some sperm and get pregnant again and keep the baby's paternity a secret, Brad cut Colleen some slack. She would that day pack up her backpack and return to the Carlton dungeon.

And while Brad was waiting for Colleen to move and knowing even before telling her to move that it makes no never mind where Colleen lives she'll still be in love with those monster truck rally types, Brad planned to track down J.T. for what was expected to be another more meaningless exchange of dialog during which Brad might offer to purchase a supply of condoms provided J.T. promised to only have sex with Colleen on odd days inside her Carlton residential bedroom. Sure, it would be a cop out but far better than having Colleen charge a room at the local brothel on his credit card.

February 17, 2003

Valentine's Day massacre

To this day there are people who just can't figure out how the Walnut Grove Academy Valentine's Day Dance wound up at the Newman coffee shop by day club for all ages by night.

From the outset the whole dance thing was bizarre. When the subject first came up the dance was called a "high school" dance and was eluded to be taking place at Walnut Grove Academy where drug dealers are allowed to roam the halls and students can smoke dope behind the auditorium without the smell being detected.

Billy Abbott was so worried his baby cousin would hookup with J.T. Hellstrom he warned J.T. to stay away and later told his father that because J.T. is a college student he'd never dare show his face at a high school dance. Then, out of the blue, the one and only poster promoting the dance appeared in Colleen Carlton's Abbott hotel room giving the local coffee shop as the dance location. But the coffee shop proprietors had no knowledge of the dance until the Glow Worms showed up to decorate the place.

For awhile it was thought the coffee house get-together was a sort of after the dance party which would have been just the craziest thing, but hey, this is Genoa City where the craziest of things happen. As time wore on it was learned the dance wasn't being held at the school at all. And from what anyone could tell, none of the WGA students were invited! The dance was a private affair mostly for the Glowtique crowd and their assorted freaky friends who weren't out looking for apartments to shack up in.

Overlooking these little screw ups is one thing, but what was the justification for an old man chaperoning the dance? Old man John Abbott made the announcement that he would be watching the zits late in the game purely as another way to poke a stick in Colleen's eye and to remind her that the two-week restraining order preventing her seeing J.T. four weeks ago had long expired. It wasn't that Abbott had forgotten but rather he doesn't want Colleen seeing J.T. although she can, apparently, see other hot little hunkmonkeys looking for a good lay. Apparently too, Abbott's attendance at the party was another way to punish Colleen for being a generally whining little snot. What else could explain why a frail man would go out to mingle with 14-year-olds?

Did somebody force the old geezer to play this role as a way to keep his blood flowing? Unless he's a dirty old man and this ogling little girl's butts is some sort of a turn on for him, men Abbott's age would take advantage of the peace and quiet by staying home reading a good book.

The story, already absurd, doesn't end there.

In the park - located conveniently near the coffee shop - was J.T. waiting for the perfect opportunity to crash the party by dropping through the ceiling it seems and on stage to sing a love song for Colleen which sounded more like a castrated Randy Travis on helium just as Colleen was about to leave. How about that for timing?

And no, that wasn't the perfect ending to what was supposed to be Genoa City's Valentine's Day message for the lovelorn. What was perfect about the heavily oversexed scene was that old fart Abbott was called away at the last moment! Imagine that? The founder of a major corporation being paged on a Friday night to come into the office to handle some major catastrophe? Doesn't Jabot have peons to do grunt work? If a big-wig were needed, why wasn't CEO Jack Abbott summoned?

The bottom line to all this foolishness is that Colleen and J.T. are desperately looking for some shred of romantic love because otherwise they'd have to be Glow Worms and everyone knows how colon retching that is. Besides, it was Valentine's Day and J.T. would probably have been at the strip club had Colleen not been floating on this thin veneer of earnest romantic belief when deep down she knows he's a total schmuck and hasn't gone down on her like, ever, and probably thinks the height of romance is a sixer of Bud from the Mini-Mart.

Colleen, all dreamily and swoony and not looking forward to another night with her Hitachi, needs to get poked. When it happens she may realize sex isn't all its cracked up to be and just might be a sign that something is deeply wrong when little girls her age want sex and that she should've been heavily sedated from about, you know, age four.