May 14, 2003

by Brent Kellogg

More of the creatures and creaturettes who will be attending what seems destined to become one of the most forgetful weddings since Nikki Newman left Brad Carlton standing alone at the alter were announced Wednesday.

Scheduled to take place before the end of the month or in less than two weeks - whichever comes first - the marriage of Billy Abbott and Mackenzie Browning will apparently be held not in a church or any house of God but at a restaurant.

Rejecting his own brother for the honor young Abbott has selected his one and only friend Raul Guittierez as the best man. Similarly, Browning elected Colleen Carlton as her maid of dishonor when once nemesis Brittany Hodges refused to partake.

"Now she'll be my cousin-in-law," Browning giggled, and rolling her eyes tried to comprehend why she too has no other friends.

Ms. Carlton was elated. "I'm so excited," she said, recalling that at age sixteen being bitchy and spoiled rotten does have its drawbacks. Before she can actually attend the wedding Carlton must obtain permission from her father. To butter daddy up she took advantage of a rare father-daughter get-together at the very popular Lodge Restaurant & Brothel.

"Just as I wished would happen," Carlton lied of the special bonding with daddy before popping the big question. Could she be a matron of dishonor?

Refusing to remind his daughter that it was he who begged and bawled and pleaded with Colleen to bond with him and forgetting that she refused and only played along when it would be to her advantage, Brad Carlton said he wasn't so sure. Supporting the marriage in any way would go against the wishes of John and Jill Abbott. As father and mother of the groom, the Abbotts would demonize anyone willing to cross them. First, their son is too young to be throwing his life away and second, that thing Billy wants to marry is unworthy.

Regardless of the fear Brad said he'd think about it. He is, after all, on this earth to do what fathers do. Totally ignore their daughter's during the early years, cheat on their daughter's mother, their mother-in-law and generally drive a wedge between the hunkmonkeys their daughter fall in love with. It's called protection. Daddy's do this because they want their baby girls to remember that they'll always be there for them.

Gay boys should come out

May 12, 2003

by Lois Hill

He had sex with a woman old enough to be his mother and by his own admission has poked all the little girls who once swarmed over his hunky body before he found an underage virgin to cheat on. But there's something not quite right about sexually bewildered hunkmonkey J.T. Hellstrom.

A Genoa City University student, Hellstrom has been to class maybe twice this semester. He prefers instead to work on getting a degree from the Lauren Fenmore School of bad taste where he sells ladies underwear. Hellstrom has become so infatuated with working at minimum wage he's developed a special sales technique and plans to ask his employer to pay him on a commission basis.

"What can I say? It's a gift," says Hellstrom of his technique which he may be thinking of patenting.

Hellstrom's "gift" is so impressive one of his co-workers has taken notice.

Raul Guittierez, who also considers himself a hunkmonkey but unlike Hellstrom passed up the opportunity to attend college this year, thinks the technique is merely having an ego the size of a house. But if that's what it takes to sell silk panties he may jump on the bandwagon. After all, Guittierez may have a family to feed one day and should start saving his pennies now.

"I sell more clothes than any of you," Hellstrom smirked as if nobody has seen the sagging Fenmore Glowtique monthly sales chart hanging on the break room wall.

While it may be nice to have delusions of grandeur and repeatedly tell themselves that they are real men, there is something queer about boys who sell girls panties. It's not like Hellstrom, Guittierez and their butt buddy Billy Abbott sit around watching football and drinking beer after work. There are no bulges in their worn jeans to be constantly adjusted or hair on their chests. They don't even wear baseball caps backwards. No keys hooked to belt loops dangle on their hips. So why don't they just come out and admit their homosexuality?

Look at the track record. Abbott, who has had sex once in his life, is about to marry a virgin. Guittierez knocked up a skank by some fluke and Hellstrom's playboy image is just that. An image in his mind. Having sex with his co-workers' former girl friend's mother was something he had to be talked into and probably had fantasies of anal stimulation during the act which is a sure sign he's gay. And has anyone ever heard these boys giggle? Next thing we know they'll be wearing L'Oreal makeup pretending to be Liza Minnelli

If these kids aren't gay they need to prove it. Dump the sissy jobs at the boutique, take off the skimpy thong underwear and lacy bras. Stop prancing around like Peter Pan, rent some good porn and join the military.

January 29, 2003