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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. |
Please visit this merchant
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