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News Archives - Miscellaneous

Highway to Hell

by Brent Kellogg
December 10, 2007

GHM Goes Public

by Brent Kellogg
November 27, 2007

Homeless for the Holidays

by Brent Kellogg
November 20, 2007

Besides Kevin's excitement that this year there will be twice the amount of homeless to feed, and how would he know unless they're calling for reservations, it always stuns me when people come to the JJ for coffee to go. It figures that camel jockeys at the gas station across the street come for coffee, but gofers from Newman Enterprises? Is the massive Newman Towers located so close to the college campus that by the time the rodents get back the coffee is still hot? Unless they moved it, that's where the JJ is; near Genoa City University. It's proximity was the reason former owner Sharon Abbott called the JJ a "coffee shop by day, club for all ages by night." She was depending on college kids using the place as a major hangout before, during, and after school. Of course, it also attracted all sorts of rift-raft, like drug dealers and pedophiles.

The JJ has come along way since the new owner took it over. For example, Kevin allows customers to place food orders with competing rivals. Need a complete Thanksgiving dinner to go? Call the Athletic Supporter Club. The AC's friendly staff will be on-duty this holiday accommodating those too lazy to cook their own turkey. Those not wanting takeout can dine in the always-open AC restaurant, or enjoy a before heavy meal workout in the gym.

New this year, the AC has announced the opening of its pie hole. Not yet a full-service bakery, the pie hole caters to those from places like Australia who don't know what to bring when invited to traditional American dinners. AC Manager Gina Roma says it's not uncommon.

"We get people from foreign countries in here all the time asking what to bring to pot-luck American Thanksgiving dinners. I used to suggest my specialty, donkey balls fried in snake urine. Yummiest I've ever tasted, but the heath department made me stop. Now it's pie. Pumpkin mostly."

Fear Factor: Are They Watching Us?

September 26, 2007
by Brent Kellogg

Learning today that at least one state prison in Wisconsin allows even its newest inmates to have unprecedented telephone privileges, I thought it was a joke because the news had come to my attention at the same time that State Senator Jack Abbott, and other influential business leaders in the community, were fussing and feuding over their sudden awareness that American's have pretty much lost their right to privacy. The suspicion that someone was skunking me seemed certain when I read that the source of the news came via crazy Kevin Fisher. Digging deeper though, it came to my attention that Fisher was seen at his Jabot office calling prison inmate/girlfriend Jana Hawkes.

In the slammer for what couldn't have been but a few hours, Hawkes was busy when Fisher called, but lucky for him had routed her calls to voicemail. Voicemail? In prison? You see why I thought it was a hoax? Naturally, questions popped into my head. Did prison officials allow Hawkes to bring a cell phone into prison? When did she tell Fisher he could call her on it and who's paying the bill? If it wasn't Hawkes' personal phone, if she hadn't already made a good inmate friend with access to a contra banded phone, had the Walnut State Prison for Women greatly relaxed its telephone rules and gone so far out of its way as to provide personal phone service for all inmates including voicemail? And if so, was this another senator Abbott bill rushed through the legislature and to the Governor for his signature in return for inmate Phyllis Newman's word not to betray the senator?

The GCN would have asked Abbott, but he was busy at his home worried about invasion of privacy as if today was the first he'd ever heard about the government listening in on the calls of its citizens, reading their email and tracking what books they read and the theft of personal information and hacking of computers in general. Sharing her husband's concern, Sharon Abbott said today she fears hidden cameras are everywhere watching her and that she "hates the world my son will inherit."

But unlike the poor, who have little recourse when they discover their private information has been stolen, the rich senator, with one phone call, ordered his senatorial headquarters and home swept for electronic devices. At press time, Abbott's office had been swept and a cleaning crew was said to be expected at the senator's home within "a few hours" of the order. While his office came up clean, Abbott wasn't satisfied. Prepared to write a check for whatever the amount, he sought to employ the services of a private detective.

Unfortunately, Paul 'Clueless' Williams, Abbott's PI of choice, in what may be a first, turned the job down. Citing the senator's ethical dilemma, Williams said Abbott isn't on his favorite clients list.

In a related matter, Abbott's gofer, Daniel Romalotti, himself having wallowed up to his eyes in crime, and his bank account drained by on-line porn site predators, said today that everyone is spying on everyone and that his spies on other people, and hacks into corporate computers friend, Fisher may have hacked Abbott computers although he wasn't 100-percent sure.

Meanwhile, concerned there could be information on company computers that could connect her to Abbott, Jabot Cosmetics owner Katherine Chancellor summoned select reporters to the firm today to assure investors and the public that there are safeguards upon safeguards in place protecting confidential information held at Jabot. When reporters seemed more interested in why Jabot spies on its employees, and refused to buy the notion from CEO Jill Abbott that they do it "for employee safety", Chancellor terminated the interview accusing reporters of not being interested in her allegation that hackers breached Jabot computer security in order to get the truth about Senator Abbott and his crooked associate, the dearly departed Mr. Kim Chee.

Dead Men Tell No Tales

August 21, 2007
by Brent Kellogg 

Forgive me if this sounds silly and I'm showing compassion of which is not something manly men do, but shouldn't someone have informed stranger in town Plum's family that he's dead? How long will his body rot at the Genoa City Morgue before an Aunt or Uncle come to fetch it and give Plum a decent burial?

Furthermore, what is the GCPD doing about those suspected of killing Plum? How long will Kevin Fisher and the Dorks of Doom be allowed to roam the city on bail before their trial starts? Isn't there something in America called a right to a speedy trial? Is it because they're free that the dorks aren't demanding their names be cleared?

What happened to faux treasury agent Bonercheck? Wasn't he arrested in connection with this case? Is he out on bail too? Who's his lawyer?

Same with Jana Hawkes. Why is it that her public defender hasn't appeared before a judge demanding she be released so long as she agrees to wear an electronic tracking device like other gangsters? Her lover, Kevin, has pressured his mother into paying for her brain surgery, but who's picking up the tab for Jana's extended confinement at the God Have Mercy Medical Center? Why is it that Kevin will have to ask his brother to pull some legal strings to get Jana's operation moved up?

You haven't heard?

Seems the GHM is dragging its feet; performing endless tests on Jana, and this has Kevin upset. He wants lawyer Michael Baldwin to wag his finger at hospital officials and get the show on the road. Never mind that doing so could piss certain people off, and not liking the pressure, surgeons could mistakenly snip the red wire instead of the green, and Jana could die, this is what those who think they are influential, and don't have to follow the rules, do.

Like Phyllis Newman, they tell judges their sob stories about having babies who would miss them should they go to prison and therefore they shouldn't have to go to prison. They bitch and moan and the bleeding heart liberal judges, fully cognizant of their own fallacies, their embarrassing moments like when they kicked the kitten or the dog, swallowed when they should have spit, grant probations and bails without ever asking why, if the convicted were so worried, they committed their crimes in the first place.

Maybe some of these things make you cringe and slump down a little lower in your chair when you think about them, because, well, maybe you've developed something resembling a conscience. You may even be wondering what happened to the flight crew aboard the plane carrying Nick Newman which crashed into the Wisconsin mountains. Did the pilot, the co-pilot, the navigator, die? Did anyone, most of all Nick, ask? Wasn't the crew employed by Newman Enterprises? Shouldn't the great Victor Newman have written letters of condolence to those families like he did when Carmen Mesta, someone he barely knew, died?

Are the deaths of unimportant people meaningless? Is all that matters is that Nick survived? Did the woman who saved his sorry ass, Mountain Mama Logan ever inform her family where she is? If not, wouldn't the family be wondering about now why she hasn't come back from her hike in the hills? What about the mattress Nick laid his battered body on? Did park rangers remove it, or has it since become soaked with rain and now smells like something that crawled into Sharon Abbott's vagina and died?

You haven't heard?

Growing older than the hills, with two kids who died because she's such a poor excuse for a mother and can never stop tripping over rugs and slipping on ice, with a disturbed 10-year-old well on his way to becoming a serial killer, Sharon the slut wants another baby. Not that she should be allowed to give birth ever again, Sharon should be projecting her desire on hubby senator Jack Abbott. But she can't, um, bare the burden.

She can though tell Neil Winters of her sexual lust for former hubby, Nick. Never mind that Neil is the last person Sharon should be confiding in, she'll do this because there's a legacy, a protocol to follow. People here routinely give total strangers information pertaining to their most intimate meaningless lives. After all, Neil's dead wife was once Sharon's best and only friend. She followed Dru around like a lost puppy and so who better to tell she's in lust than Neil?

Neil's not without his demons either. As he belatedly bawls how he misses Dru, Neil sucks around another woman and then wonders why baby daughter Lily, a child in diapers already with a failed marriage under her chastity belt, is attracted to the older, whiter, and much sleazier probably carrying one of Amber Moore's many SIDs, Cane Ashby.

Since they are way too busy thinking of themselves, far be it for me to ask why nobody has shown any concern for the dead Plum, the flight crew, or for that matter Keith Dennison last seen years ago in a coma at the GHM, or whoever it is buried in Phillip Chancellor III's grave.

Jill Abbott can't. She's got a will she's about to be written out of and a crooked lover to worry about.

Victor can't. He's got Jack to "takedown."

Yup, the on-again, off-again takedown is on again. This time it'll be so convoluted so as to "engulf" the entire Newman family and Gloria Bardwell. Things will get so bad Victor's wife may will give into the temptation to have sex with another man, most likely the creepy David Chow.

With so many reasons to live, who's got time to worry about the dead?

Twists and Turns for the Worst

June 8, 2007
by Brent Kellogg

After careful review and thoughtful analysis and finally figuring out what and where Clear Springs is, I'm stumped. The signs and the tea leaves aren't helping. Sitting behind the desk to write this little ditty, a sticky residue on the keyboard gave me a sense that the more I try to understand the Genoa City elite and its many problems, the more confused I get.

I'm beginning to think it's mind-control. Something, someone, is spiking my coffee. Read most any of my reports this week and see for yourself. See how the articles start out sensible enough and then fall into a giant vat of confusion? Is it me, or the subject matter? Does it make sense that Colleen Carlton would tell her daddy that she understands his wanting to divorce Victoria Carlton because she, Colleen, hates Victoria more than she hates daddy Brad?

Am I wrong for thinking it's irresponsible to leave an 8-year-old child waiting at the airport following Abby Carlton's lonely flight from Los Angeles and the poor kid had to call Brad to remind him and never thought to call, or ask about, her biological father? Not that Victor Newman is in town, Abby could have called granny Newman except, of course, Nikki probably would have had her phone turned off and was too busy anyway swapping spit with David Chow, a man young enough to be her son, to go fetch what biologically is her step-daughter.

Is it just me? Isn't there something fundamentally wrong with so many old women in this city going after younger men? Why hasn't Chow found a woman his own age? Will the old cow get pregnant with his baby? Will Victor return to catch them in the act, or read in the papers, that his wife is slutting around again? Will there be the subsequent kicking of Nikki off the Ponderosa or him moving back to the apartment he shared with Hopeless Adams? Just the other day I was asking whatever happened to the pad where Tricia McNeil tried to seduce the old man and where Diane Jenkins held Victor's sperm hostage.

I know what you're thinking; be happy Nikki isn't after J.T. Hellstrom like she was after her daughter's husband, Cole Howard. Be grateful that for as much as Phyllis Newman and Sharon Abbott hate each other, they're still working together on Jack Abbott's political campaign, and as I read in the tea leaves, will devise a plan to take Nikki down as though either one of them as any idea how to run a campaign and where do they find the time? Why did it take so long for Sharon to figure out that Phyllis was faking a back injury? Anyone who has, or ever had, a serious back injury knows doing anything more than laying on the sofa is a miracle and the last thing they want is to meet with reporters to answer questions as to why they're holdup in someone's home other than their own. If Phyllis' injury is so bad, wouldn't a competent doctor have ordered an MRI by now?

Can you imagine being a voter in this city? Imagine your reaction when you first heard Nikki Newman and Jack Abbott would be running for an open seat in the State Senate? If you've lived here for any length of time, wouldn't you ask why there are no other candidates and why the Republican Party selected Abbott as its nominee? We've got to assume Abbott is a republican and Nikki is a democrat because there can't be two republicans running for the same seat - can there? Maybe they're independents, we'll never know because I don't recall either of them saying which party they belong too or who nominated them. Other than Nikki saying she supports legalized prostitution, I don't know what issues these two boobs are running on. If I could, I for sure wouldn't vote for the man who led a major cosmetics company three times to the edge of bankruptcy, or a former stripper, or anyone married as many times as Abbott and Newman have been including once to each other and who, in times of crisis, say they're best friends all the while stabbing each other in the back.

I've mentioned this before, but Kevin Fisher's bringing Jana Hawkes to justice has taken on new meaning now that a body is about to be found on which lots of money will be found. Cameron Kirsten? Nick Newman? Wouldn't surprise me if we didn't already know that it'll be "Charlie's Angels" and Amber Ashby along with Kevin and Professor Gerbil who will bring Hawkes to justice.

Don't you wonder too why Carmen Mesta's next of kin hasn't been screaming for her killer's head? It's like the Newman jet crew that died in the plane crash and nobody gives a rip about those people; only Nick Newman's fate matters. Speaking of which, Nick's due back any day. He's thought to have lost his memory, but that's not good enough. By some miracle of God, and watch the little devils say their prayers, Nick made it out of the plane, somehow got back to Wisconsin and was walking wounded to such a degree he'll have to enter the God Have Mercy Medical Center where it'll come to pass that Nick takes a "turn for the worse."

Life's a Bitch - and Then They Die

April 24, 2007
by Brent

I know, it's a waste of time, but I couldn't help but comment on the hypocrisy.

Jack and Sharon Abbott looking at their Crackerjack rings, saying they can't wear them in public for fear people will find out they're married, then going around town telling people they're married. Sharon, aware that Brad Carlton wants to jump her bones regardless of who she's married to, ran straight to him with the marriage news less than 24-hours following the farce of a wedding ceremony. From there it was on to tell Victor Newman who didn't seem pleased, but gave his blessing anyway as there's not much he can do and probably could care less who she marries since he knows firsthand what a slut Sharon is.

Then it was Jack's turn as he went to tell former wife Nikki that he married her daughter-in-law and you gotta wonder what balls it must take for a man to do something like that. It's low; it's Jack.

And Nikki, what a piece of work to say she hopes Jack's marriage will be better then their previous marriages and for Jack to say Sharon is good for him. Compared to what? A blowup doll? Madam Palm? The best part was when Victoria Carlton told her mother that Sharon had a one-night stand with Brad and Nikki retorted what a "bitch" Sharon is. Nikki, with so many affairs and last names, shouldn't be calling anyone a bitch. Takes one to know one, Honey.

Truly a wretched woman, Victoria, reeling from the news that her husband porked Sharon, feigning how hurt she was, wasted no time telling her brother about the affair Sharon had with Brad and as usual Nick Newman stomped his little feet, was shocked that Sharon would do such a thing when he was porking Phyllis Summers, and then threatened to go beat Brad up. Typical high school mentality, Victoria asked how Nick could do such a thing then tracked down the hunkmonkey, J.T. Hellstrom, and got busy with him out of some sick desire to get revenge as she worried about her unborn child and how she'll ever forgive Brad. You mean she's actually going to forgive him? What is wrong with these desperate women?

Then it was Nick's turn to accuse Sharon of hurting his sister and for Sharon to rollover like the rocks in her empty head. She's so sorry. She wasn't thinking; it was just sex. And what about you, Big Boy? Weren't you cheating on me? Of course Nick was cheating on her, but he's a man; he gets to do things like that, but it didn't give Sharon the right to hurt Victoria. That damn Brad should be on his knees begging Victoria to take him back. In this case, despite that Brad is a man too so they claim, Nick can screw around, but Brad can't.

Meanwhile, after learning that Phyllis ratted her out by letting the secret marriage out of the bag, Sharon got snippy when less than an hour ago she and Jack had been telling anyone who gave a rat's ass about their marriage. For Sharon to say she "trusted" Phyllis only proves what an idiot she is.

As another of the looniest days on record came to a close, Jack repaid Victor the money he owes him and in the same breath said maybe Victor can buy Nikki a new company like the one Jack all but stole from her. Not that Nikki would have to lift a finger to get a chain of widget stores up and running, Jack must think companies grow on trees. Another company? Sure, Jack. Victor's got a few in his back pocket. Would you like the green one, or the blue one?

Oh, and ladies, how'd you like to have Victor for a husband especially if you're running for State Senate and he won't back you publicly? Can you imagine Bush's chances if Laura hadn't come out and showed her support for him publicly?

Yup, life's a bitch in Genoa City. The constant struggle, the despair, the lies, the cheating, what little happiness there is only on holidays, and then they die.

It's Just That Dumb

April 19, 2007
by Brent Kellogg

When we asked readers for their input on what they'd like to see different in Genoa City we expected a flood of creative input. There was that, but too there was the missed the point input from those who resist change.

For example, the request for a new, white, male Sharon Newman's and Victoria Carlton's age for the purpose of stirring up trouble between these woman resulting in "cat fights" and more who is the father of the baby crap we've seen before. There were many requests for the continuation of the Jack Abbott/Victor Newman feud with one suggesting a new family be brought in to take them both down. Others want Phyllis Newman to go to prison and for Nick Newman and Sharon to get back together and have another baby.

If these suggestions make you feel as though your brain is being eaten by angry cockroaches, do not rip it out with a pickax and feed it to the toxic monster presently eating Genoa City alive.

There was more than one request that a gay character be brought in and thus push Genoa City headlong into the 21st Century. Being gay is not the pariah it once was. It could in fact expose the homophobia bubbling below the city's scummy surface.

With all the complaints that J.T. Hellstrom and Daniel Romalotti have "feminine tendencies", it was requested that they be replaced with "real men" and for Neil Winters to grow a pair of testicles and for him to stop kissing the boot of those who kick him in the ass.

Overwhelming, the biggest grumble we heard was that the criminal element of Genoa City must not be allowed to get away with their crimes because it sends the wrong message to those "unbalanced" sorts who sit around watching soap operas while loading their weapons in preparation for the next school campus massacre.

We lost count of how many readers want head writer Lynn Marie Latham gone. They want writing they can believe and stories that don't get dropped because the writers paint themselves into corners. The one word we saw most often from readers was "credible." Legal matters, medical maters, readers said they aren't as stupid as the writers think they are. Readers wrote that they are tired of the pregnancies gone bad; the women like Lauren Baldwin in postpartum funks one day, out visiting Sheila Carter in a cage the next.

Readers said they'd like to see one couple with a good marriage dealing with real issues. Dealing with the loss of a job, fear of losing the home and how they'll pay the bills. They'd like to see a couple without children, not wanting children and comfortable with the decision not to have children in a world where overpopulation is having an impact on the environment. With hypocrite Mary Williams gone, they'd like to see a religious character who doesn't throw religion in their faces only on holidays or when a miracle is needed.

Another big complaint was office attire. Too many characters dressed inappropriately. Too many in jobs for which they aren't qualified and would never hold down in real life. Again, the issue is that as viewers, we're not stupid. We cannot believe that a company like Jabot Cosmetics would have ever employed Kevin Fisher as a webmaster. Janitor, maybe. Thrusting Kevin, and others, upon us as professionals "insult me" many readers wrote.

Forgotten children was another gripe.

"What are they telling us? That it's okay to have children and when we get tired of them, take them to the pound?" one reader asked.

The reference was to the many Genoa City kids who have simply disappeared. Nate Hasting for one. Why didn't Olivia Winters mention her son while she was in Genoa City for all of a day? How is Victor Newman Jr. fairing without a father? Kyle Abbott? Ricky Williams? There's a long list. Same with adults too. Carl Williams, the Bug. Why are these people forgotten?

"We can't care about the new people in Genoa City because we don't know how long they'll be around. Those who are around have become disgusting criminals and adulterers. They are all the things we despise. They represent what we want to protect our children and ourselves from. We're sick of it," was the general consensus.

Thanks to everyone who took the time to contribute to this report. As most of you should know, this is a conundrum: On the one hand, we want a diversion from the crazy reality going on around us, and yet the people and events in Genoa City only mirror the craziness in that they do the same destructive things over and over again. They occasionally take time out to make social statements on issues like breast cancer and mental illness and adoption, except they can't even do that right without inserting convoluted, unbelievable, nowhere near the truth statements which leave us scratching our heads and falling down in fits of laugher because it's just that dumb.

The Foundation of Misery

April 11, 2007
by Brent Kellogg

Reeling from the possibility that two more Genoa City marriages could be on the rocks, trying to count the lives impacted, and figuring out who would end up with who, for a split second I was actually concerned. Leaning on the kitchen counter, looking out the window, I thought about the children who never know for sure who Mommy or Daddy will bring home next to play the happy family role. I foresaw Noah and Summer Newman and Fen-Fen Baldwin growing up to become just like their parents because it's the only thing they know. It's Abby Carlton having to call Brad Carlton "daddy #1" and Victor Newman "daddy #2" and then being whisked off to Hong Kong without any daddy in her life at all.

It's Scottie Grainger not having laid eyes on his new sister and completely unaware that his mother had another encounter with the evil Sheila Carter. It's Lauren Baldwin seemingly unaware that after so many years without Scottie, he returned to Canada without so much as a good-bye kiss or a ride to the airport. It's Kyle Abbott living in Florida without a father. It's Rickie Williams in Los Angeles without any parents at all. It is Heather Williams unaware to this day that Paul Williams is her daddy. It's Victor Newman JR. in Kansas growing up without a father too.

It is little wonder Kevin Fisher is deranged. Locked in a closet by Tom Fisher, Kevin has gone on to forgive the mother who condoned his living in captivity. He and Gloria Abbott are partners in crime. Mac Browning, sexually abused by Ralph Hunnicutt, took her frustration out on her own mother by banishing Amanda Hunnicutt from Genoa City. Fred Hodges, not caring that the daughters of other men might be emulating sex with a metal pole, was horrified to see Brittany Hodges doing it. It was Anita Hodges seducing young hunkmonkeys. It was Cole Howard and Victoria Newman thinking for awhile their marriage was doomed because they may have been brother and sister. It was Billy Abbott and Mac who had to have their marriage annulled because they were cousins.

The list of those affected by Genoa City immorality is never ending. Each day, names, mostly children, are added to it because women like Sharon Newman can't keep their legs closed or their marriages together. Women like Gloria are without shame. The men are no better. The wedding vows they take are meaningless. Their statements of love and caring are empty. They will, in a heartbeat, bed down with any bitch.

When they aren't sleeping around, when they aren't ordering paternity tests to verify that the lives growing in their wives bellies wasn't created with another man's sperm, they are engaged in power struggles with their enemies. Someone, anyone, must be taken down. This year Jack Abbott is the main target. Abbott had taken control of a failing cosmetics company illegally. Victor has known this for months, but for as powerful as Victor is, despite that he has the help of his running for State Senate wife, regardless that Brad and Victoria have said too that they want Abbott to fall, Victor has yet to pull it off. He must, in the daze ahead, enlist once again the services of attorney Michael Baldwin.

If that weren't absurd enough, Victoria, partially raised by Jack, encouraged by him to return from Italy to rejoin the empire, won't have any qualms about betraying a man who was like a father to her. Engulfed in so many turmoil's, Victoria is headed for another one. Some tragedy must befall her such that it puts her unborn baby in danger. While any child should be spared coming into such a messed up world with its messed up parents, imagine the Ashley Abbott Carlton blue blanket redux. See the pregnant for 13 months Victoria squeeze her fat belly behind the wheel and get into an accident taking the life of the child, but not hers.

See the same crisis over and over again. See that only the characters have changed. They are interchangeable. Their victims are ignored. Not a word was said of the driver of the car Ashley crashed into. Except for when she walked around in a daze feeling sorry for herself, Ashley has never mentioned Robert, the dead baby. Except for Paul suggesting that Nina Webster be told that the real Phillip Chancellor III is alive, as of this writing Nina hasn't been told. If she is told, mostly likely she won't care. It's doubtful Nina will so much as step foot again in Genoa City. And who can blame her? Why would she risk exposing Phillip Chancellor IV to the immoral plague gripping Genoa City unless she fears the scheming Amber Moore might get her hands on Phillip's share of the Chancellor fortune or, since Phillip IV is not legally a Chancellor anymore, the boy is written out completely?

And what of the boy who died in Phillip III's place? What of his parents? Shouldn't they be told their son is dead? Wouldn't they be wondering what happened to him? Why aren't they in Genoa City searching for the boy? Why aren't their Visas expiring? Why aren't they getting tricked into marriages or becoming addicted to porn and what does that say about those who raised Daniel Romalotti? Oh, that's right. Danny Romalotti is overseas. He cannot be bothered. It's not like Danny is Daniel's biological father, he isn't. Does this concern Daniel? Hell no, he doesn't need a father. He's got a dimwitted wife named Lily, who upon discovering hubby has an addiction, will merely wonder how bad the addiction is.

It's like Neil Winters knowing he's an alcoholic, knowing that one drink is like sugar in a gas tank, having spent thousands on rehab and nearly losing his family, having preached the Gospel to addict Yolanda Hamilton, poured four glasses of scotch down his throat this week and then said it was no big deal. It was only one drink, he lied, and that lie was enabled by Daniel who Neil asked not to tell Lily.

Lies, lies and more lies. They are the foundation on which the miserable lives of these miserable people are based.

We Are Not Making This Up

April 10, 2007
by Brent Kellogg

"You're making a mistake by killing Dru Winters off." "Please don't [fill in the blank]. If you do, I'll never watch again."

Typical comments we at the GCN have been getting lately, while we appreciate the email and feel your pain, please understand that we know better. You will keep watching. You always do. You are hooked. You are as addicted to the immorality as Daniel Romalotti is to porn. Like Daniel isn't actually satisfying himself like most men who get off on porn do, while Daniel puts on his best trapped in the headlights look whenever he suspects he may have been caught, you aren't actually upset to the point where you'll stop watching because there is no point where that will happen.

If there was a point you would have reached it long ago. When practically every adult in Genoa City has had sex with everyone else, you would have said, okay, I'm out of here. And yet here you are; still watching; still wondering who will have sex with who and how long their marriages will last; still feeling sorry for the children who suffer and the bad messages sent to America that it's okay to cheat and kill people because there are no consequences.

There are no District Attorneys seeking justice. There are no rights of the accused or credit card limits too small to prohibit the posting of bail of residents who have been arrested time and time again. There are no "changed" men. Nobody in Genoa City changes. They go on to repeat their crimes. They hack into computers, violate privacy laws, obtain prescription drugs by fraud, murder at will, taint cosmetics, hold people hostage, switch babies, pull strings to avoid the INS, coerce corporate board members to resign, engage in nepotism and award their inexperienced, uneducated friends and family members with fancy jobs. They sleep with their students, their teachers, their relatives. They drink to the point of alcoholism, dry out, and go back to drinking.

If found guilty of a crime, they are slapped on the wrist and told to perform community service they rarely perform. During the holidays they moan and groan about the unfortunate and offer up a turkey or two to the hundreds in homeless shelters. They slip $1 to the homeless man in the park and make some absurd statement about how awful life for the homeless must be and then retreat to their fancy $300,000 homes and million dollar mausoleums where they order the live-in slave to serve the meal of which their enemies will dine on as the master swears by all that is holy that for this day they must live in peace before getting back to the business of hate the following day.

There is nothing the so-called elite in Genoa City won't do. They'll step on their own flesh and blood if it means getting ahead and even then aren't satisfied. They can never have enough money either. Already in a position where they want for nothing, their children put on a good show too. The teens whine about not being able to afford college tuition. They puke all over themselves about having to work in the mailroom, the coffee shop, the horror shop or the ritzy members only club, and yet they rarely work. They rarely attend class except for when there's a need to draw reliquary codes on the blackboard, or a need to have a jealous, loves his teenage blowup doll, pushing thirty hunkmonkey say he's auditing a class without having asked permission first.

So don't be saying you're not gonna watch anymore. You know you will. And know this too. While we forget that there are always new readers browsing the pages of the GCN - and perhaps should inform you more often - we are not responsible for the crap you complain about. We don't write it. We don't condone it. We can't make up such nonsense.

The Rich & Terminally Shallow

April 5, 2007
by Brent Kellogg

I'm not sure how it would go, but after asking Monday if Genoa City's cream of the elite crop shouldn't be in rehab, I got to thinking: What if it was? Who would perform the intervention? Who would sneak into their fancy homes and apartments and wait for them to come home from another display of insanity at the Athletic Supporter or Jitter Joint? Who is there willing to sit the freaks down and say, look, you can't go on like this. You can't, out of the blue, bring up the subject of your company's website when you haven't, during the past three months, been at the office for more than an hour. You can't be taken hostage or placed in a nut house and like some sort of afterbirth following your release, say, "does the website need updating?"

It might make sense for Dru Winters to ask such a question if she were a webmaster. She's not. She's supposed to be upper Newman Enterprises management, so why would she care anything about the company website? But let's say Mrs. Winters is like the other loons in this city and she sincerely believes that a major corporation like NE depends on the site for a third of its income. What does NE sell? Does it still operate Safra, the little cosmetics off-shoot that never grew? Who works there if it does? Are they still looking for magic orchids in Japan?

What of Kevin Fisher? Apparently still employed by Jabot Cosmetics as a webmaster, he hasn't worked there more than a day since Jill Abbott hired him nearly a year ago. Fisher had no experience designing web pages, he can't spell cosmetics, so why is he still there? Because Abbott said at the time that Kevin had "changed". She said he was "enthusiastic", very "talented" and "deserved a chance" to show how much he'd changed since attempting to fry Colleen Carlton to a crisp and having sex with the minor child Lily Winters.

And then Kevin went back to his evil ways. He hacked into computers and went on to hire a woman named Jana Hawkes to manage his coffee shop. He and Jana had sex at the Jitter Joint in full view of the surveillance camera Kevin had recently installed, and after the dirty deed complained that the images were of "digital" quality and could not be erased. The camera could not be destroyed or run over with a gas-guzzling SUV. It could though cause Jana to become beaten down with cheap dime-store fear for surely the images would fall into the wrong hands and used against them both as everyone knew that having sex in a place where people eat muffins and swill expensive lattes was wrong, wrong, wrong.

There are too, political candidates offering to help their competition, young girls claiming to be adults seeking approval for what they do, old women clamoring that their appearance on a reality TV show will help their image, older women confessing to crimes and dead men returning from the grave. Is there any doubt a little time in rehab could do them good? Lock them up and throw away the key. Let them wander the halls and scream into the void until they realize just how badly they've let themselves go, just how lost they really are, wondering where it all went wrong.

Is it not time? Isn't Genoa City ready for rehab on a city-wide scale? Of course it is. You gotta admit, they have these past years been violently drunk. Intoxicated on hate and sanctimony and moral hypocrisy, they waste themselves like sheep on synthetic clover. Rehab is the thing to do. Rich and delusional like Britney are ducking in and out of rehab like it was Amber Moore's crotch and they were an active STD. Too graphic? Hey, no one said rehab would be pretty.

It's not like they can't afford rehab; the elite in Genoa City have money to burn. They have the best healthcare money can buy. They are in and out of the God Have Mercy Medical Center more often than the quacks working there. They obtain stacks of medical tests and procedures and faux ear implants and never worry about the cost. Hell, there's been just one instance where anyone was ever billed.

Which brings me to Danny Romalotti. Talk about potential, the washed up rock star could record a new CD called "Rehab". Christine 'Bug' Blair could get the first copy and the replace "Rock On" as her boom box favorite. The Bug could toss "You and Me Against the World", the song she sang the day her mother, Jessica Blair, died of AIDS.

Katherine Sterling could replace "I'm going to live 'til I die" with "Rehab" as her favorite tune too. If Cassie Newman was alive, she'd probably declare "Rehab" as her favorite song.

As bad as they need it, getting these freaks into rehab is easier said than done. They wouldn't learn much from it anyway. They never do; learn that is. Like a bad shampoo, they repeat and repeat while marching down the road of self-destruction, deeply troubled, addicted to sex or porn, blaming themselves for things except those for which they are to blame. Rehab for them would be just another catch phrase, a convenient escape for the rich and terminally shallow.

Death; Good for What Ails You

April 4, 2007
by Brent Kellogg

Gone! The entire prescription for pain medication filled only two weeks ago and should have lasted a month is gone. How will I deal with the pain? Do you have pain too? Did watching those Genoa City business women today make you scream in agony? Were you begging that someone would put them out of their misery? Didn't it seem as though they've been there before and done that and yet they can't help themselves? Why would anyone subject themselves to the same old tired nitpicking?

Fresh out of a nuthouse, Dru Winters whined to her husband; she doesn't have the energy; she's got to save what she does have in order to deal with Phyllis and Sharon Newman who are each other's throats again. Woe is Dru. How did she get in the middle? Hubby Neil had the answer. Dru, a high-ranking Newman Enterprises executive is in charge of two other high-ranking executives. She must oversee a freaking joke of a photo shoot the ladies are participating in, each claiming to be in charge of something that Dru is in charge of.

This is what happens when two companies employ the same people. They are destined to share the same breakroom where Phyllis can tell Sharon to drink water because it makes Sharon "glow". Phyllis can dictate that Sharon should have her hair braided for the shoot so that Sharon can say, well, she had permission from the boss, her fiancée, not to have her hair in braids. This in turn is cause for Phyllis to say she's the boss of the shoot and that Sharon works for her so that Sharon can say they both work for Jack and Jack agreed with Dru about who would be wearing what and how intense, or not, the glows on their ugly faces would be.

Squabbling aside, Jack learns that Sharon wants Dru to be her maid of dishonor and it suddenly dawns on him that - like Nick Newman - he doesn't have any male friends and needs one to be the best man at his wedding. Jack ponders the situation. Who, who, is this huge mini-megalopolis is up for the task? Only one person. His greatest enemy, Victor Newman!

Down the hall Sharon is writing in a book when Brad Carlton, her lover, pops by to ask what she's doing. He is, undoubtedly, surprised that Sharon can write at all. When Sharon acts like she doesn't know what she's doing, Brad helps himself to a look see. Good God, she's writing down her wedding vows. Ain't that just the cutest thing? Brad doesn't think so. He, as slimy as men get, doesn't want Sharon to marry Jack. Not because Sharon is a slut, but that Jack doesn't deserve a slut. Sluts are better deserving of Brad.

And as always, when personal discussions like this are taking place, there's always a door open. Enter Phyllis to say that Brad and Sharon are "cheaters" and that Sharon will cheat on Jack just like she cheated on Nick. Phyllis will forget that Jack walked all over her and that living with Jack became so unbearable she walked out on him. Phyllis will, however, say that Jack will eventually dump Sharon because he's a classy guy.

Sharon will take this slandering of her good name to heart. She will tell it to the big mouth Dru and when she spots porn addicted Daniel Romalotti ask how on earth a woman like Phyllis could have a nice boy like that as a son when they should have known all along the Phyllis was a bad mother saga. Dru, because she's just an evil bitch and deserves to die, will say Daniel is such a sweetie because Phyllis didn't raise him.

And Daniel, failing his first year at college, runs to tell surrogate daddy Jack of his bad grades. To make things rosy, Jack will inform Daniel that he may quit his mailroom job at the empire. Take it easy, son. You are overburdened. Sure, millions of college kids are poor and work their little asses off in hope of getting a fancy job one day, but you Daniel are not poor. You are a rich bastard. You've got high friends in low places. Forget about work. Run along now. Go meet your baby sister for the first time since Summer Newman was born something like four months ago.

Run his does. Straight to wherever Summer is being caged this day to whine like a baby, to a baby, how he "screwed up". Not screwed the way he wishes he could get screwed, just screwed, as in spoiled kid who can barely pass the first grade. Oh, and when Mommy Phyllis hears his whining, what does she do? Give him the lecture about how she had to walk ten miles in the snow in order to get an education? Hell no! Quit his job! Take some time off; join the Navy; become a semen like Brad did. And if Daniel runs short of cash, if he can't pay his rent, don't worry! Mommy will pick up the tab. Christ, it's a wonder Phyllis didn't tell him to put that thing he married to work. Let Lily bring home the bacon.

In an attempt to save a little money, Daniel tried to cancel his porn subscription. Too bad, in his rush to get off, he didn't read the small print on the porn agreement. He's stuck with it for 6 months. He's angry. He's worried. Lily was looking at his email again and wondering why the XXX ads? Apparently unaware that Lily spent nights alone in her room surfing the net for sexual predators and must have received tons of email none of which she was dumb enough to open if they contained attachments, and never in her day had she seen what Daniel described as "popup ads" in mail, Lily nevertheless fell for his lie as he rushed to toss the flash drive containing his porn which he'd purchase just a day earlier and was sticking out of his computer like the thing in his pants. Obviously in a rush to join their mothers at the photo shoot location, the inevitable porn bust was postponed.

At the shoot later the kids couldn't help but witness the adults continuing their childish squabble. Angry that Sharon had confided in Dru about being blackmailed, Phyllis whipped her fiery tongue. Sharon is a tramp and Phyllis is damn well gonna tell Nick and Jack what they both should already know. That'll teach Sharon. Producing a cellphone, Phyllis couldn't make the call before Sharon yanked it from her. When Dru piled on, all three women, conveniently standing on the edge of a cliff at the time, fell over it. As fate would have it, Phyllis managed to save herself, but Sharon and Dru took the plunge as Lily let out a terrifying scream.

As you may have already heard, only one will die. It would have been better had all three bought it, but don't you feel better knowing there's one less feuding bitch polluting the streets of Genoa City? In this town, isn't death good for what ails you? And, it's free!

Bad Habits Hard to Kick

March 26, 2007
by Brent Kellogg

It's nice to see the Athletic Supporter Club's motel service being used again. With the death of Carmen Mesta the occupancy rate dropped to zero and so there were plenty of rooms available when Victoria Carlton and her mother, upset that their husbands hadn't voted the way they wanted them to, checked in without so much as having to call for reservations. Had all the rooms been booked, they probably wouldn't have had a problem then either as they both know the club's manager personally. Gina Roma has a knack for making things happen, like when her brother, Danny Romalotti came to town unexpectedly. While the AC Motel was full at the time, Roma managed to squeeze the washed-up rock star in.

That rich women must leave their spouses following a board of directors vote and move into a dive isn't the funny part. What's hilarious is that women like Carlton continue living with their spouses when they've been caught cheating as both Carlton and her husband have. That's okay, but voting the wrong way isn't.

What's crazy is that following the vote, Nick and Phyllis Newman decided they'd get a room at the AC too where they could better enjoy some hot sex without having their new baby in the way. Said to be a "miracle", Summer Newman was left by the wayside. The parents don't mind. They are accustomed to kid dumping. Phyllis did it when her first son was snatched by Danny and taken to Europe. She didn't lift a finger to get Daniel Romalotti back. She could have filed a law suit as Danny had not been given legal permission to take Daniel out of the country where the boy stayed until he'd grown into a pitchfork-wielding teenager.

Phyllis did whine occasionally while trying to have a baby with Jack Abbott. The same Abbott who delivered Summer in an elevator, Jack heard his wife bitch and moan about the judge who called her an unfit mother. Phyllis swore up and down that if given another chance, she'd show the world what a great mother she can be. Along with Jack, she fought tooth and nail to get custody's of Jack's child only to let Kyle Abbott go off to Florida with his biological mother, Diane Jenkins.

For Kyle, it turned out for the best as Jack never really wanted him. In fact, both Jack and Phyllis pretty much forgot about Kyle. They got divorced and moved on. While Jack remained a free man taking an occasional bitch in a pinch to satisfy his sexual needs, Phyllis married Nick after getting knocked up with his baby. Since the birth they've told each other what great parents they are, but if Summer could talk she'd tell a different story. Ma and Pa will dump her in a heartbeat especially if she might get in the way of their having sex.

It's laughable too that these women, when they walk out; when they say they want to get away from their rotten husbands, go to the one place where those husbands are sure to be. It's like Colleen Carlton and professor Gerbil. Worried about being seen in public, Carlton and Gerbil were spotted last week at the Jitter Joint fondling each other in public all the while saying they didn't want to be seen together. No sooner had Nikki Newman moved into the AC, but what she was considering a request from her husband to talk about it. Like a dog responds to its master's command, she trotted right over to the Indigo jazz club where Victor Newman was celebrating the vote.

Back at the AC, Victoria, surely having heard that crazy women can just barge in and rip her wardrobe to shreds, had left her door unlocked. Peeking in, Brad saw her in the arms of the hunkmonkey she'd had sex with only days before their marriage. That sexual escapade was, of course, forgiven because it had happened only once and Brad would soon be having sex with Sharon Newman in a New York hotel room subsequent to the marriage. Sharon would go on to accept a marriage proposal from Jack thereby keeping the theory alive that sooner or later everyone in this city will have sex with, or be married to, the same man or woman at least once.

Speaking of bad habits that can't be kicked, at the same time, at the same place, J.T. Hellstrom was raging mad. His blowup doll, Colleen was there with the professor. His boss was there too telling him he's got anger problems. He ratted the professor out to the college dean and must have lied when he said the dean had hired him because it would appear the dean didn't do anything more than make the connection of a lovesick hunkmonkey seeking revenge. That suspicion was later confirmed when it was announced Gerbil has been given tenure.

With the appearance that it's okay in Genoa City for professors to have sex with their students, Gerbil's concern that Colleen not give Lily Romalotti the most intimate details of their love life, and Colleen's inability not to tell, would not seem to matter. Now they can have sex at the Jitter Joint and no one will notice.

Speaking of notice and laughter, it's funny that for as small a place as the AC is, Paul Williams didn't notice his dirty lady cop friend there. It was even funnier because Williams is supposed to be a private investigator. He had to be told that Maggie Sullivan was in the building and had to be told by the hunkmonkey to go over and say howdy. It was when Clueless left his company that Hellstrom overheard Roma running her mouth about Victoria having moved in. So much for keeping that secret, if it was one.

Oh, but the laughs didn't stop there. Back at the Indigo, Dru Winters, having learned of Jack's impending marriage to Sharon, forgetting that her sorry ass nearly went to prison the last time she cast an evil spell on someone, warned Jack that if he hurts Sharon in any way he'll have to answer to her! Wouldn't want to damage those sweet Sharon lips so firmly attached to her ass.

The coup de gras came when Victor asked Jack why he got engaged so soon. It's not like he and Sharon have been "dating" that long. This, from a man who marries women at the drop of a hat, who married plain Jane Hopeless Adams after never once taking her on date unless helping Hopeless slop pigs and wash eggs could be considered dating, is but one of many bad habits these people can't kick.

Sheer Lunacy

January 24, 2007
by Brent Kellogg

Since nothing much was happening today that could be considered news worthy, I was planning to take the dog for a walk and forget that there's such a place as Genoa City when word came of some extraordinary minor things that topped the discovery of kiwi fruit. Because I'm fuming that the drivel has reached a first-grade mentality, those things I call lunacy, will be covered only briefly.

First, when did double-dating at the same establishment become all the rage? How is it that Nick and Phyllis Newman chose this night to patronize the black jazz club where Mrs. Newman's kid was dating at the same time?

Why would Lily Romalotti, years after she trolled the Internet looking for love, suddenly get all panicky when her new friend, the bartender named Cane, said that he'd met the albino Amber Moore on the Internet too? How is it that Cane and Amber would know that the mere mentioning of meeting people online had adversely affected Lily when Lily didn't say a word about her ordeal with Kevin Fisher? Why would Daniel Romalotti volunteer that his wife had a bad experience online and Cane feel obligated to apologize for answering Lily's question?

Why in hell would Phyllis say that Lauren Baldwin, sickly as she's been, looked my-T-fine this evening considering she'd just jetted back from Los Angeles and who in the hell allowed Lauren to go to Los Angeles given her fragile state?

How is it that Phyllis, thought to be a savvy business woman, would buy Jack Abbott's story that she needed to go into work late at night because he'd severed ties with the owner of Jabot Cosmetics, but nevertheless needed to prepare a list of beauty products for Mr. Kim Chee and it had to be late at night or else Chee would sue them? Over a stinking list of beauty products? Is Phyllis really this stupid? Apparently.

Not only that, but no sooner had Phyllis arrived at the office but what her dipstick husband began babbling about what happened the last time they worked late and wanted to have sex with her right there atop a desk, or somewhere.

How is it that Dru Winters would only now be getting around to tell her husband that the tires on her car had been slashed earlier and that she'd been getting prank calls? Why would Neil Winters seem so shocked? Doesn't he know strange things have been happening to his wife? Wasn't he at their wooden box to see the shredded clothing or the credit card statement listing the hundreds she spent on a new wardrobe?

Better yet, when Neil's phone rang and Dru told him not to answer, why did he anyway and not hearing so much as heavy breathing on the line, hack like a 3-pack-a-day smoker that he'd teach 'em by punching up *69 only to learn that *69 doesn't work when David Chow is calling?

But it gets better. Threatening to call the phone company - which requires a 3-call *69 request before it can trace such calls - Neil couldn't even do that by himself choosing instead to disturb his lawyer who was trying to enjoy some time with his wife and friends, such that the Newman's are.

Himself having just received a call on a matter of late-night urgency, Michael Baldwin was on his way out when the Winters cornered him with their freaking we are in a frenzy whine. To get rid of them, Baldwin said he'd call the phone company in the morning, because, well, this is what expensive lawyers do. He further advised Dru not to answer her phone, but when has she ever listened to anything Baldwin has told her?

And how is it that everyone in this godforsaken city seem to know that certain persons are stressed and yet when asked, those persons say they ain't stressed at all? How is it that police detective Maggie Sullivan would tell a clueless PI that he seems "distracted" when she's do freaking distracted she leaves her badge at the PI's love nest? Did she forget her gun too?

Without getting into the part where Williams and Baldwin go to visit Sheila Carter in her cage late at night, this may have been the most lunatic of developments.

In Berlin, or wherever 1-man Army Victor Newman and his sidekick Navy semen Brad Carlton are, the two bound to a chair and held hostage weren't worried at all. Pleading with Newman to trust him, because they are a "team", Carlton felt somewhat better when Newman said his security team is "outside" waiting for the right moment to pounce on the Nazis!

That moment will come when they find a buyer for the trinkets Newman wants to pawn off as a genuine reliquary and not a moment sooner. And lo, the plan seemed like a good one until the Nazis returned to say that the trinkets had been damaged during shipping. See? They should have used FedEx. But that's what happens when you get sloppy and don't take precautions to protect the things key to your obtaining a valued reliquary as important as Hitler's gold tooth. But Brad shouldn't worry his pretty head. Victor's security team will save them!

As Good As It Gets

January 18, 2007
by Brent Kellogg

First and foremost, warm yourself in front of a nice Duraflame fire as you make jokes about current events in Genoa City. Snarl and get all grumpy as you write letters to the Powers That Be and swear on a Koran - or something - that you'll never watch again, and once the letter is sent rush in front of the TV to have your brain washed with swill, and then kick yourself again when all this time you could have left the dirty work to the Genoa City News which subjects itself to watching so you don't have to.

Read the swell articles outlining the stupidity and the dumb things said and done. Note the similarity between things happening now and things that happened twenty years ago and ask yourself why this is as good as it gets. Ask why Sheila Carter looks and talks like Phyllis Newman. Ask why two so-called upstanding, loyal to the rule of law and order, put their careers at risk by endlessly committing crimes. Try to make a list of all the laws Michael Baldwin has broken since he swore, after getting out of prison and conspiring with Victor Newman to commit a crime, that he so feared losing his license should he be caught.

Interesting too his how Baldwin never says he's worried about going back to prison. It's always about his damn license as though getting caught isn't the problem, it's that he won't be able to practice law once charges against be dropped, which they probably will, because he was only trying to protect his family.

Ask too why a boob like Paul Williams, with his knack for obtaining some of the finest private-eye assignments from the very rich, would put that all at risk by helping Brad Carlton kill two Nazis and now holds Carter hostage out of some misguided loyalty to the Baldwins because Lauren Baldwin was once his wife and ex-lover. Consider too the hundreds of implied employees Williams employs at his make-believe alarm company. Who will sign their checks if Williams in rotting in a prison cell? How will the alarm company survive? Where will the rich purchase their faulty alarm systems?

Who will employ the hunkmonkey, J.T. Hellstrom? Is he so experienced that should the Clueless Detective Agency close down he'll merely open his own? Who is checking security at Newman Enterprises? Isn't Hellstrom the company's chief of security? Didn't he once say he checks the system weekly? Why hasn't he done this in months and only does it whenever there's a computer or two he needs to hack into?

Why is Hellstrom and his blowup doll still haggling about stuff they haggled to death years ago? Why can't Colleen Carlton find a real man and not have to sleep with her teacher and contend with the teacher's many other pets like roosters at a cock fight? Is this need for their teachers love widespread? Is there an epidemic going around the nation like bird flu and terror scares? Do young girls really dream of doing the teacher? Do they sleep with the professor and later say it was just to make a point and teach their shallow boyfriends the lesson that it's not nice to sleep with their mothers and step-mothers?

In Carlton's case, is it a ploy to get pregnant and then beg Hellstrom to play daddy to another man's baby? It's been done before. Hellstrom did it as a favor to Brittany Marsino and some sick apology for sleeping with Brittany's mother. The best that can come out of this lukewarm rehash is that Colleen and J.T. will get married, but given their history, given how marriages in this city don't last more than a year, they'd most likely become estranged or divorced when Hellstrom cheats on her, or she him, and they'll snivel how tragic it all is for their child who will join the ranks of other unwanted kids sent to places like Kansas and Hong Kong when their usefulness runs out.

Speaking of useless, look at Sharon Newman. Blaming herself this week for Ashley Abbott taking her baby, the baby born from sperm stolen from Newman's father-in-law and Victor Newman not the least bit concerned he may never see Abby Carlton again, Newman said if it hadn't been for her and Ashley bickering over some silly photographs for an ad campaign, Ashley might never have fled.

Incredibly, Newman didn't go into a bawling fit or off to Colorado to have sex with a strange man. Besides the blame, she was upset that with his sister gone, Jack Abbott, her lover, will be alone and will miss the darling Abby like Jack ever gave a rip about Abby. Dumb as dirt, Newman whimpered when she found out that the photos in question are to be used in another campaign at Jack's request because said photos were responsible for increased toxic Jabot Cosmetics sales. Forget that consumers usually buy skin creams and assorted oily lotions thinking it'll make them look younger, Jabot's customers, mostly female, buy based on some slut posing in ad!

That might be true if half the populist in Genoa City were lesbians, but they ain't. Deviant behavior is not allowed here except when it occurs between consenting heterosexuals or homosexuals pretending to be heterosexual.

So stop writing those letters. You must know the recipients only laugh if they read them at all and has never in thirty-plus years let outsiders influence their piss-poor decision to regurgitate variations of the same old swill. Sit back on these cold and dark days and enjoy the heat generated in your groinal region over the fact that, despite the furious outcry, the perturbed and the sexually shriveled will continue offending and confounding you with their inspiring, makes you wish Katherine Sterling stole your baby nonsense, for this is as good as it gets.

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