Good god with a riding crop! What was sperm thief Diane Jenkins thinking when she announced Thursday her intent to enroll a two-year-old child at some funky Summer camp? Is Jenkins unaware that children in this city who go away to camp are not often seen again? Has Jenkins not heard that Nate Hastings hasn't been seen since he was sent off one day to camp? No surprise there if she hasn't since the stunted, stuck at age ten, Hastings' own mother hasn't noticed the child she so desperately needed a role model for never came home from the camp she sent him to last year.

Seeking the signature of her child's father on a camp application form, Jenkins intimated that her only reason for enrolling the boy at camp was for the use of the swimming pool. Noting his son is too young to be going to camp neither Jack Abbott nor Jenkins thought that if the goal is merely to have a place where a baby can swim, the Abbott pool would be the most appropriate location for such activity.

In any event it is clear that whatever drug these people are taking they are overdosing on it daily.

But Mr. Abbott, it was in all the papers!
Just call him Jack Sominex! The day-to-day stress and strain of waging a smelly skunk oil war has apparently been so overwhelming the CEO of Jabot Cosmetics hasn't heard the news.

A kidnapper or worse could be running loose in Genoa City!

Asked Thursday, if he had heard what happened to the one and only friend the mother of his baby has ever had, Jack Abbott said, "No."

And because she's just that stupid, Diane Jenkins didn't give Abbott any of the details about the disappearance of dizzy Izzy Williams.

The Case of the Vanishing Victim has been on the front page of all the papers and some of Genoa City's most prominent residents are freaking out and wallowing in "fugue" states.

Nobody knows why Diane Jenkins doesn't get herself a good lawyer, go directly to a judge and say, "Your Honor. I want my baby back! Those Abbott weasels made a big stink over getting custody of my child yet they haven't spent more than an hour with the baby since arson and attempted murder charges against the bitch were dropped."

On that December 16, 2002, kangaroo court fiasco day too, charges against Jenkins were threatened by the District Attorney's Office but never filed. At best, the evidence that Jenkins paid one of the town drunks to make the phone call to Mrs. Abbott on the night of the Abbott poolhouse fire - which subsequently placed Abbott at the scene of the crime - proved only that Jenkins lied about who started the blaze. The evidence did not then and would not today prove that Jenkins intended to kill Mrs. Abbott.

Regardless, on Wednesday Mrs. Abbott reminded Jenkins that she still holds the evidence that if given to the authorities could send Jenkins to prison.

"I have an ax over your head. It won't take much to get me to drop it. Don't push me or you’ll regret it," Abbott seethed, causing Jenkins to recoil in utter horror.

Why Jenkins reacted as she did only goes to show again the insane inconsistencies. Does Abbott really think that she can just turn in the so-called evidence she's probably misplaced by now any old time she's inclined to unleash vindictiveness on her enemies? Does anyone believe the cops would take Abbott seriously after all the time that has passed? Are the cops just waiting for Abbott to come forward with a perceived crime?

After the threat against her freedom Jenkins should stop worrying about Mrs. Abbott's marriage and do some digging. It wouldn't take her long to find out who killed Sasha Green. Not to mention Abbott's lying under oath and presenting false evidence at her divorce and custody hearings years ago when she tricked Danny Romalotti into marrying her and thinking he was the father of her baby. A baby she hasn't lifted a finger to locate since Romalotti snatched the kid and ran off to Europe.

It would behoove Mrs. Abbott to keep her filthy yap shut. This ghastly horrible inane hate-filled vendetta game she threatened to stir up again could come back to haunt her like a bad trip to the dentist where a routine cleaning turns out to be a bloody excruciating root canal.

Uppity bitches like Abbott should be thankful she's still remarkably incessant for someone so heavily medicated and whose blood actually consists of cleaning solvents and old bong water. She should stop the war mongering and go about her daily ritual of kneeling before the rat-altar and slowly anointing herself with whatever the hell that Dow chemical stuff is that hubby Jack uses to maintain the illusion that he's actually alive.

And while she's at it, Mrs. Abbott might want to actually spend some time with the baby she claims to love as her own and prove to the world that she really isn't, as she testified in court, a worthless mother.

Time to settle an old score
March 31, 2003

From the outset Diane Jenkins should have known better. What was she thinking when she stopped by the Newman coffee shop by day club for all ages by night? What is it about the school campus hangout and its overpriced coffee that attracts people like Jenkins? Does mingling among the desperately whiny and sexually ignorant students who haven't had a decent orgasm since that time with the gin bottle make her feel young? What else can explain why a woman would patronize an establishment where she knows her greatest enemies are sure to bump into her?

That said, Phyllis Abbott should have been charged with terroristic threatening for her act of violence on Monday. Strolling into the java joint for a cup to go, Abbott eyeballed Jenkins alone on the patio minding her own business and couldn't resist the urge to unleash some of her pent-up hate.

Asked to go away, Abbott refused and began accusing Jenkins of "trolling" and having the hots for the barkeeper when in fact Jenkins had been quietly reading a magazine and nothing more. To show her disgust for such a pitiful woman, Jenkins tossed coffee at Abbott before making a hasty retreat.

In the grand scheme of things the incident may not have been earth shaking. But it does show what a hateful woman Abbott is. After helping to coerce Jenkins into giving up her first born child both Abbott and her disgusting husband have spent less than a hour with the child who has become just another trinket on their mantle.

Abbott's disgusting behavior was reprehensible in that just a few days ago it was Jenkins who put an end to the child's constant braying and keeping its new owners awake at all hours and so tired they couldn't have sex. Mrs. Abbott should have dropped to her kneepads and thanked Jenkins rather than extolling her hatred.

What makes Abbott full of rage and hiss and roll her eyes and throw up her hands and then scamper for her Bible for reassurance that life is still repressed whenever the slightest tragedy strikes close at home? Why does she think that her god approves of killing in the name of peace for this is what Abbott is doing to Jenkins when she spews her bile for no good reason other than to prove she's an ignorant bitch who should maybe die and rid the world of one less freak who thinks killing is a game?

And yes, killing it is for Jenkins is slowly dying inside and had her baby ripped away from her like some madman rips a country away from its people in the name of liberation.

These events are considered "real," they are tangible and raw and ugly and happening right now.

Then there's Jenkins, walking through her daily life right now, sobbing and laughing and hoping a mostly useless Andy Richards will screw her again and help pay her 400+ hotel bill and filter the onslaught so that she can remain connected to something divine and universal and authentic, all while straining to put this trend toward violence against her into some sort of acceptable frame.

Get a restraining order Ms. Jenkins!

The next time Mrs. Abbott comes within 100-feet of you have her sorry ass tossed in jail. A few hours in the cooler might snap her back to the reality that just because she's an Abbott doesn't make her high and mighty. She is a loathsome woman who gave away her own child without a fight and to this day does nothing to find out where the boy is.

Here is what Abbott hates most, Ms. Jenkins: the idea that you really can, and do, make a difference. That you, hopefully working to align yourself with something deeper and more informed can disrupt the Abbotts directly, right now, in ways you might not even realize, in ways that can make the Abbotts tremble and wince.

But you gotta work at it.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself. The time is ripe to settle an old score. Get that RO and slap it across Abbott's smirking face the next time she flaunts her freewheelin' - I'll do whatever the hell I want because I'm an Abbott goddammit and no one will dare tell me to back off - crap.

Rich woman may return to workplace
Living in a $400+ per day Genoa City Hotel room for more than a week might not be a big deal to the average businessperson in the city on temporary business with an expense account  or for the rich with an unlimited source of income.

Thus, it came as a surprise Tuesday when the filthy-rich GC Hotel guest Diane Jenkins said she is considering a return to the workplace supposedly for the purpose of filing some of the holes in her piles of money.

"It’s my old boss. I think he’ll offer me my job back," said Jenkins without explaining why she would want to work when she doesn't have to or where she hopes to work.

An architect by trade Jenkin's previous employer was located in Milan, Italy.

March 3, 2003

by Molly Media

The Abbott family lowered the local terror alert Monday from red to yellow, suggesting the immediate threat of an attack on Abbott soil had eased, and also indicating that the Abbotts were, as everyone suspected, full of crap when they issued the warning in the first place, which just so happened to coincide with their hammering of Diane Jenkins into handing over her baby which immediately went on a hunger strike and bawling jag.

Still, the Abbotts were determined to be defiant and alert in that regardless of how apparent it is the baby needs his mother they would keep Jenkins contained and far away from her son. No gol durn sperm thieving pool house fire setting evil woman was gonna come over to the Abbott compound and bond with her baby on their watch.

To help themselves remember the new terror alert color status, which is sort of a nice urine sunset yellow, Jack and Phyllis Abbott recall old man John Abbott's teeth, or the color of Mamie Johnson's big lips when she purses them really hard because she's too lazy to pack up her fat ass and get out of the white folks home when she can damn well afford her own or live with her whoring nieces.

Suddenly concerned for her brother's son, maybe because she heard the gossip going around the office water cooler, Ashley Carlton stopped by the Abbott home to inquire and confirmed that the boy's refusal to eat or sleep and constant bawling had become a problem for Jack. If action were not taken soon the neighbors might report them to Child Protective Services and it would be Diane's fault.

"She a lousy mother," Ashley said, echoing Jack's sentiment and looking snaky given how subtlety is absolutely dead in the culture this woman lives in what with a history of killing her first child and keeping the paternity of her still alive child a secret and forgetting she's a sperm-stealing thief.

Unable to understand why Diane would not want to come around to see her son after the hell he and his court-declared unfit mother wife put her through, Jack bitched that Diane is staying away on purpose so that he and Phyllis can bond with the boy which is exactly what they wanted when they were lying and cheating and blackmailing the poor woman.

"Diane made Phyllis' life a living hell. I don’t want her back in our lives again," Jack hissed before realizing that he's so thoroughly overexposed that gimmick and now must reexamine the possibility of perhaps resorting to his deleteriously penultimate option of slapping Phyllis upside the head until she's ready to make peace in her heart for the baby's sake putting them all back to square one.

Fortunately for Phyllis she didn't wait around to be shocked by her husband's continued waffling. She hauled Diane back to the Abbott compound by the short hairs just as the baby was cranking up another round of bawling.

The tension could have been cut with one of the knives the Abbott's had slipped into Diane's back so many times. Should they allow her to coddle the child unsupervised? It was agreed.

As Diane worked her magic in the upstairs bedroom the Abbotts listened in on the baby monitor, looked into each others empty eyes, sighed heavily and immediately went back to caring about more important things, like hot sex while whistling the long version of Stoned in Love with You.

"I was actually thinking how incredibly much I love you," Jack told Phyllis, failing to add what an "amazing" woman she is.

Even Diane left the premises humming a happy tune knowing the Abbotts were hooked. They'd be calling for her services again and again. Oh the joy! The love and peace and godless prayer had countered all the venomous hatred like some sort of fear mongering weapon of mass depression. They had given peace a chance. But how long would it last?

February 12, 2003

Fear-freaked woman gives up baby!

Attempting to confuse the general populace, who are presently trained to really really loathe and despise anything resembling terrorism, but are deeply programmed to admire and encourage desperate acts of love, given how it's almost Valentine's Day, Jack and Phyllis Abbott successfully argued Wednesday that they should be given a baby and what they were doing was not in any way related to terror.

Threatening Diane Jenkins with obstruction of justice, blackmail and extortion, the Abbott's essentially bribed the woman into giving up a human life in exchange for silence.

"Sounds like a reasonable trade to me," Mr. Abbott said, instantly devaluing the price of human life and pointing out again that Jenkins signed her own death warrant when she gave a drunken skid row bum a piece of paper with her telephone number written on it.

As more proof that he should be openly crucified and hung up by his testicles and beaten with sticks, Mr. Abbott's charges, of course, were unfounded. Jenkins never blackmailed or attempted to extort anything from him or his unscrupulous wife, Phyllis.

"We don’t want Kyle visiting his mother in prison," Abbott said, continuing to spew his special brand of fear.

In a worse case scenario, if Jenkins was found guilty by a jury of her peers, her odds of spending a single day in prison were miniscule. At best, Jenkins would be given five years parole on a second-degree arson charge.

Pushing the morbid fear thing to the max, Mrs. Abbott played her part well when she threatened to call the police causing Jenkins to become pistol-whipped and looking for a sword to fall on. After a brief conference with her gutless attorney, Jenkins gladly turned over full custody of her baby right there on the spot.

It is a sad moment in time when a woman gives up her baby without a fight.

"Are you planning to take him now?" Jenkins whimpered, not thinking for even a moment that the Abbott's could be tarred and feathered and run out of town on a rail if a Judge ever found out about their despicable act.

"I think it would be better for Kyle," Mr. Abbott replied, adjusting his hawk costume and snickering inside that it wasn't what's best for the kid, it's what's best for him that matters. "The fighting is over," Abbott hacked and acting very much exactly like the arrogant and thuggish creep he is, suggested the rebuilding process should begin.

"Now we have the most important job in the world. Raising our son together," Abbott told Jenkins, fully aware there will never be any togetherness.

Already envisioning his prize on the living room mantel for all the World to see, Abbott smirked as Jenkins, totally lost and merely perpetuating the horrible act that had been perpetuated on her, told Abbott how much she still loves him.

Begging and kowtowing and generally making as ass out of herself, Jenkins pleaded for a chance to say good-bye to her son. And again the gods cried at the absurdity of it all as the defeated woman told the baby he would be going to a "wonderful" home where he would have an all important "family" and that he should be, "a good boy for your daddy."

It was a vicious and horrifying and disgustingly sad scene. Diane Jenkins pummeled by heavy emotional terrorist-infused pain, giving up her baby without a fight as Jack and Phyllis Abbott undoubtedly planned to go home with their new baby and have dark gothic, raw and obscene sex.

February 11, 2003

Jenkins urged not to give up baby!

Whatever drugs Diane Jenkins is injecting directly into her eyeballs she should stop right this minute. The drugs are very bad and make her very stupid. Nothing else can explain why a woman who took desperate measures to keep her baby out of the reach of Phyllis Abbott's paws would suddenly breakdown and willingly turn over the child.

But that's exactly what she planned to do on Tuesday.

Jenkins' decision is based on a piece of paper Abbott found recently at the Olive Pit bar. According to Abbott, that Jenkins handwriting is on the paper is enough evidence to throw her butt in prison for the rest of her life and is a blatant confession that she started the Abbott poolhouse fire.

The so-called evidence, of course, is meaningless. Any lawyer worth his or her salt could have the paper suppressed or otherwise tossed out of court. Even the Abbott's lawyer, the all-purpose attorney John Silva, is skeptical. Furthermore, Silva is hinting there are legal and ethical questions with regard to how the Abbott's are intimidating Jenkins and seems unwilling to get involved.

Outraged, Jenkins' lawyer, Michael Baldwin, agreed Tuesday to represent Jenkins again and immediately urged his client not to sign anything giving up custody to her child.

The sad fact remains that while Jenkins may follow Baldwin's advice, another court battle could ensue during which none of Mrs. Abbott's checkered past or the fact she was once declared by the court to be an unfit mother will come out. Those ravenous Abbott wolves love nothing more than to eviscerate surrounding enemies and throttle members of their own family for no other reason than to expand their power base.

Shocking indeed are the numbers who truly believe Jenkins carried out the Abbott fire, or at least had a significant role in it. Rather than give up so easily, Jenkins should make them prove their case. Tell the court how she was intimidated.

If, however, there is any good to come of Jenkins' eventual capitulation, it'll be the end to a seemingly endless merry-go-round fight over a baby which will immediately be stashed away with some rarely unseen sitter while the daddy crows how he won the battle after which everyone will try to keep a straight face for a few moments but then burst into chortling demon-like laughter because it was just so damn stupid and obvious that Jenkins never stood a chance.

January 27, 2003

January 24, 2003

Baby, it's COLD outside
by Brent Kellogg