daily roundup

Next week we have what promises to be another heavily edited reunion special hosted by Lala, or maybe what's-her-face Pak, or that Gideon jerk. Until then, we'll just quietly chuckle to ourselves as we remember Cameran's thoughtful insights about African Americans: "I've lived with a black person, and they're as cool as hell." Like OMG! Every group should have one!

HOLY FUCKING SHITBOX! if ever there was a story that was worth blowing off a "Campaign Analysis Follow-Up Status Meeting", it's this story! as broken by Star Magazine (via Defamer), Scary-Kate has been engaged in a torrid and illicit relationship with MICHAEL FUCKING CAINE!!! can you believe it? i mean, stories had been swirling for months and months and there were rumours that this little trip to rehab wasn't just because Scary-Kate ain't down with pork rinds, but STILL! while everyone expected that Jack and Kelly Osbourne would end up at Promises, whodathunk that one of the Twizzles would go all Pete Libertines up in this bitch???

Britons caught on camera as shots of cruise ship orgy shock Cyprus
An urgent inquiry was launched in Cyprus last night after an undercover police operation exposed a group of up to 100 tourists, including Britons, taking part in what was described a mass orgy aboard a cruise ship off the island.
The scenes, shown on local TV and described as "debauched", were broadcast after being caught on camera in the police sting. Arrests are expected in the coming days. "These scenes are not just graphic, they go beyond every conceivable limit," the island's deputy chief of police, Sotiris Haralambous, said. "We are talking about 50, 100 people involved in acts of total debauchery. It's hard to even describe."

...A while into the cruise, the competitions started. Four girls and four boys were selected from the audience.

"All the girls were wearing skirts", explained Kristoffer Sandvold, age 18. "They had to sit on a chair and got whipped cream between their thighs and crotch. The boys had to lick it away as fast as possible. Afterwards, a melon was placed between the girls’ legs and the boys had to eat it without using their hands. Then the boys had to sit on the chairs. First the girls were going to eat a banana the boys held by their crotch."

FREAK SHOW GETS EVEN MORE FRIGHTENING
June 29, 2004 -- PLEASE, Courtney. Say it isn't true.
Courtney Love whirled into Manhattan Criminal Court like a high-heeled train wreck, 5 1/2 hours late. Standing before the judge, she swatted theatrically at her nose, demanding that sketch artists get it right. Then she pulled out a box of Marlboro Reds from her purse and begged astonished court officers to let her light up, right there.

On the street, she told me something terrifying.

"I'm pregnant!" Courtney said, a weirdly ecstatic smile overtaking her face.

Come again?

"But not to the point where I have to quit smoking!" she quickly added, assuming my horrified expression was aimed at the smoldering Marlboro in her hand.

"Next week!" she promised. About the smoking, that is...

From The Please Go Away Files: Ashlee Simpson
Ashlee Simpson: We don't know where you came from, and we don't know why you have descended upon pop culture, but we humbly ask you to go away and never come back. Yes, you may be Jessica Simpson's younger sister, and yes, you may feel this entitles you to some sort of cultural sidekick role, but you and your manager father are sadly mistaken. We don't want you. Your music is stale and pedestrian, and your dreams of stardom are simply lame excuses for woolgathering at our expense. Yes, we know you're an "actress" too, but your showcase of talent on 7th Heaven leads me to believe you should be packed in a box and sent to Malta...

Sex pros get ready for party

With thousands of Republicans set to invade the city this summer, high-priced escorts and strippers are preparing for one grand old party. Agencies are flying in extra call girls from around the globe to meet the expected demand during the Aug. 30-Sept. 2 gathering at Madison Square Garden.

"We have girls from London, Seattle, California, all coming in for that week," said a madam at a Manhattan escort service. "It's the week everyone wants to work."

ADVICE FOR RECENT ARRIVALS: Dos & Don'ts & More Don'ts for Gay Boy Refugees

So you made it out of that backwater town in one piece. Now comes the hard part--acclimating to a new place and living an openly gay life. Soon enough you will discover which bars cater to your distorted physical ideals, that meth is very bad, and that a deep tan is ugly and pre-cancerous--but what about the other stuff? Here's a cheat sheet to save you some time and trouble...

1. You are not a strong black woman. You never will be.

4. Rainbow flags, bumper stickers, and wind socks are no different than Green Bay Packers fans painting their faces green and gold: a complete embarrassment. Pride can be as ugly and warping as shame.

8. There is a difference between being effeminate and being a queen. Being effeminate is just that--being. Being a queen is an affectation. I can't throw a ball, but I don't call anyone "girl," even female children.

16. Beauty fades. Develop some inner resources, otherwise when it goes, those of us with less far to fall will laugh at you. To your aging face.

20. Make friends with at least one dyke, you silly faggot. When the shit goes down--for instance your mother dies--fags will drop you in an instant if you aren't fun. Dykes will come to your house with food.

Baja Fresh has arrived in New York? And Yoshinoya? And Panda Express, too? No, silly, those chains haven't descended on NYC with their cheap burritos, noodles and greasy General Tso's chicken, but if you've seen The Terminal you might think so. The mock JFK airport created by Steven Spielberg for his new movie features all three...

Woman crushed: She falls on tracks, can't climb back up

A woman desperately trying to claw her way to safety after falling onto subway tracks was killed by a Manhattan train yesterday as rush-hour commuters watched in helpless horror.

"She's gonna get crushed!" a woman on the Brooklyn Bridge-City Hall station platform screamed just moments before the victim was fatally struck and dragged by a southbound No. 4 train.

The tragedy unfolded so quickly that straphangers had no chance to help Joan Olaizola, 39, of Brooklyn, who fell onto the tracks after apparently fainting or losing her balance.

Olaizola stood up to find the train barreling down on her.

"She was trying to grab onto the platform and get up when it happened," David Dunn, 38, of Brooklyn, said. "She had one arm over the yellow strip when the train hit her."

LOLLA-FOR-LOSERS: WHY TWO-DAY CONCERTS SUCK TEN YEARS LATER.

Remember Lollapalooza? Remember how amped you were to go in high school, when nothing seemed cooler than an entire day outside with music blasting, your friends crushed up against you and burgers made of hemp?

The sunburned face and mudcaked ankles didn't matter. Losing your friends for a couple hours while you ventured over to the second stage was just another adventure. Getting shoved by beefy linebackers from across the river in Jersey was included with admission. And wearing wet clothes all afternoon? Whatever, man. We were rocking.

And I never want to do it again.

The witless young AMWs were told only that this was a dating show, and they were going to the outback. There's a good chance some thought they were going to a steakhouse. Either way they're barely off the plane before they're into jammed into military vehicles and bouncing all over the place. That'll teach these spoiled Yank Sheilas a lesson!

...noted that "getting healthy" was Mary-Kate's priority right now, so that she could go to school with nothing hanging over her in the fall. Both of the sisters are slated to start attending New York University as freshmen in September...

It's Time For Me To Get Married & I Need Your Help!

Hello and welcome to my site! My name is Blaire - and with my 27th birthday just a few weeks away, I've decided to go about looking for my life partner a bit differently, a bit larger, and a bit more dramatically!

As I get older I feel my social circle has been getting smaller and smaller - and the prospects for my potential mate are not as great or abundant as in the past. I've been to single's events, done the club scene, and have been matched up and Internet searched....now, it's time for me to Mass Market! I don't want my search to be limited, nor do I want to wait forever - this is why I'm reaching out to you!...

...Like I said, I'm going to be 27 and I'm ready to get married. Actually, my goal is to be engaged by December 2004. Can you help make my goal come true?

Boy Writes Apology in Blood for Dozing in Class
TOKYO (Reuters) - A Japanese teenager was forced by his teacher to write an apology in blood after dozing in the classroom, the school's principal said on Monday.

He said the boy was back in school, and neither he nor his parents had asked to switch teachers. The teacher involved is expected to resume classes in a few days, Dan said.

Nickelback, you lazy, talentless bunch of wankers. What, did you think nobody would notice that you're recycling your hideous dirge and selling it all over again to your deluded fan base? You bastards, you're taking advantage of those tone deaf MTV brainwashed twats who are too thick to notice you're releasing songs that are EXACTLY THE SAME as ones you recorded earlier. And here's the proof, people. Listen to their first godawful hit, played through the left speaker. At the same time, an equally shite single (released two years later) will be played through the right speaker. Can you spot the difference?

June 18, 2004 -- BRITNEY Spears seems ready to walk down the aisle again.

The pop tart, who just had to call off her Onyx Hotel Tour due to a bad knee injury, moved her dancer boyfriend, Kevin Federline, lock, stock and trucker hat into her New York and Beverly Hills homes after her arthroscopic surgery early last week. Now the buzz is that Federline has popped the question and Spears is said to have accepted his offer.

"Kevin was with her throughout the whole surgery and by her side the whole time," Spears' rep, Leslie Sloane Zelnick, said. "She's pretty lucky to have him, but I don't know if she's engaged or not."

Are there words to describe the dance floor, this heaving, unrelenting mass of nascent hormones? I really don't think so. It's hysterical. It's petrifying. I know it wouldn't be fair to ask Sarah to the prom and refuse to dance, which is what I would like to do more than anything, so I take her hand and we weave our way onto the floor. OutKast is being pumped through speakers the size of soda machines. The kids are pulling off a deft little maneuver: The molesters and molestees (aka the cool kids) are hidden from chaperones by an outer ring composed of their shyer, geekier peers. I can't tell if this is a prearranged agreement or mere Darwinian natural selection. It's strikingly effective, that much becomes clear, as Sarah and I push our way into the inner circle. There are many writhing bodies, pressed so closely together that I find I'm dancing with seven girls and nine boys without even moving. I catch a few kids sipping from flasks. Most, however, are dancing in a style you could call Rap Video Imitation Gone Wrong: the girls back into the boys, who proceed to lift up the girls' dresses in a way they apparently think is subtle, but in reality is anything but. Then they try, and fail, to move to the beat.

As soon as we open the doors and I have one foot on terra firma, I say "Sir, are you on ecstasy?"

"Yes, yes I am!" he shouts, gleefully. "It is Friday night and everyone is out but I do not get to go out."

The lucky bunch this time around begins with Charo - the queen of "Love Boat" walk-ons and wiggle-offs and a woman who still has less than total command of the English language.

Joining her is Dave Coulier, best known as Uncle Joey on "Full House" and a man of a thousand voices and noises, many of them simultaneous.

Flava Flav of Public Enemy fame is in the house, too, and for those wondering whatever happened to Jordan Knight after he grew up and out of "New Kids on the Block," VH1 has him under lock and key for season three.

Finally, Brigitte Nielsen's towering "Red Sonja" presence will make itself felt, to be offset, no doubt, by "American Idol" fave Ryan Starr, who's billed as "22 and still the hottest woman to ever sing for Simon.

...There was one thing that baffled us, however, and that was the way Ms. Theron was fine strutting around from red carpet to after party with a copper glow that screamed "Mystic tan".

The only thing potentially more baffling is that the people who are usually responsible for alerting the public to such phenomena had nary a peep to say about it. All of the usual fashion reviews gave the usual "glowing" coverage to Miss Theron that is afforded to most winners in the acting categories. And while we always save our best barbs for the runway walkers who are crazy, neglecting to mention Charlize's tan in coverage is like neglecting to mention Marcia Gay Harden was pregnant. How could you not notice?!

With the advent of Defamer, there is a good chance that such errors in coverage will be no more. Unfortunately, the damage has already been done, and in attempts to make up for their errors, it seems that anybody showing a picture or video clip of Charlize from the Oscars is doing some hue and saturation voodoo in order to make her a little less Tantastic, and to make their journalistic oversight a little less glowing. Some could say there is a conspiracy going on, and we are out to put an end to it...

"After Michael died we wanted to search the world for a new singer but didn't know how we could effectively do that," INXS guitarist Tim Farriss said.

"But we've now found a fantastic way to make that happen."

Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen in: “Mary-Kate & Ashley Turn 18!”
by Josh Abraham

: Happy birthday, Mary-Kate!
: I’m Ashley, you stupid head.
: Wait, I thought I was Ashley!
: You dyed your hair brown to tell us apart.
: Oh yeah, I forgot! See, when I look at you, I can’t see my hair, so that’s why I mix us up.
: Now I’m confused.
: So am I!
: My head hurts when I talk to you.
: So does mine!
: I totally can’t tell us apart now.
: Oh my God, me neither!
: I can’t believe we’re finally eighteen.
: I feel like a grown-up!
: I feel the same.
: Oh, my God, me too! What should we do first?
: That guy from Maxim’s been calling for days.
: We can vote!
: I think we’re supposed to inherit some money or something. I saw a headline in The Post.
: We can watch R-rated movies! We can get tattoos! We can buy cigarettes! We can join the army!
: I think you should.
: It’s too bad we can’t buy cocaine until we’re 21.
: I think you’ve got a learning disability and an eating disorder.
: What would all the grown-ups do tonight?
: Mom and Dad are watching “Deadwood.”
: Ooh, I like cowboys! Let’s watch, let’s watch! I’m a cowgirl! Moo!
: I'm surprised that you've managed to survive this long without being eaten by predators.
: Shut up, Mary-Kate! You’re retarded!
: You’re Mary-Kate!
: No, you are!
: I hate you.
: No, you are!
: Shush, “Deadwood”’s starting.
: Cocksucker motherfucker eat a bag of shit goddamn douchebag suck your mother’s tit.
: This adult world frightens me.
: Me too.

The statistics are worth repeating. In 1981, the first year of Reagan's presidency, 199 cases of AIDS were reported. Eight years later, more than 55,000 people had died. This number, it has been pointed out, exceeds the number of U.S. combat deaths in either the Vietnam War or the Korean War. If Reagan is to be assigned posthumous credit for something as ephemeral as "making America America again," then responsibility for the AIDS epidemic — a public-health crisis over which he had direct legislative influence — must also be his.
Instead of forestalling a plague, Reagan allowed it to spread, silenced by an irrelevant debate about the "morality" of its first victims. He didn't even say the word "AIDS" in a public forum until 1987. His first significant piece of AIDS policy was passed in November 1988 — seven years after the start of the epidemic, by which time 50,000 people had died and countless others had been infected worldwide. In a 2001 speech, Reagan's surgeon general, C. Everett Koop (who is occasionally referred to as "the frustrated surgeon general, C. Everett Koop" or "the thwarted surgeon general, C. Everett Koop"), revealed that Reagan repeatedly shut him out of discussions about AIDS, in favor of counsel from religious conservatives like Pat Buchanan.

Ulli's Roy Orbison In Clingfilm Website

Hello, and welcome to my homepage. My name is Ulrich Haarbürste and I like to write stories about Roy Orbison being wrapped up in cling-film. If you have written any stories about Roy being completely wrapped in clingfilm please send them to me and I may put them up on the site. If you have a site with stories about other pop stars being wrapped in cling-film mail me and we can exchange links.

I have some very, very important advice for the Olsen twins: Start spending less time together. And I mean IMMEDIATELY! Because, you see, everything that is fabulous about having a twin -- the nifty camaraderie, the ultimate companionship -- all of that can, under certain circumstances, become a terrible, raging disadvantage. Psychologically, girls, the inertia that can result from twinness can send you straight to Barbie Twinsville. Let me explain: A twin, as your nearest and dearest confidante, can also be a validator of dreadful obsessions. Nonstop togetherness can lead to a deranged cul-de-sac where all your darkest obsessions (bulimia, big boobs, body-cutting) are validated by each other! It's a sad fact that most celebs end up getting strange at some point, finding themselves in weird cults and whatnot, but from what I can tell, twins are worse off than most. Everything that went wrong with the Barbie twins should serve as a cautionary lesson to the Olsens.

What do you think they talk about?

Kevin: Yo.
Britney: Yo.
Kevin: How'd the video shoot go?
Britney: It was FUN y'all! I met Snoop Doggy Dogg. He called me Brizzle. I didn't understand one word he said! Do y'all know what a Brizzle is?
Kevin: Nah, g.
Britney: Word. Let's buy some Cheetos.

The TV Remote. It is only by epic self-discipline on both our parts that we don't argue about the TV Remote to the exclusion of all else. It does the TV Remote a disservice to suggest that it is only the cause of four types of argument, but space, you will understand, is limited so I must concentrate on the main ones.
1) Ownership of the TV Remote: this is signified by its being on the arm of the chair/sofa closest to you - it is more important than life itself.
2) On those blood-freezing occasions when you look up from your seat to discover that the TV Remote is still lying on top of the TV, then one of you must retrieve it; who shall it be? And how will this affect (1)?
3) Disappearance of the TV Remote. Precisely who had it last will be hotly disputed, witnesses may be called. Things can turn very nasty indeed when the person who isn't looking for it is revealed to be unknowingly sitting on it.
4) The TV Remote is a natural nomad and sometimes, may the Lord protect us, it goes missing for whole days. During these dark times, someone must actually, in an entirely literal sense, get up to change the channel; International Law decrees that this, "will not be the person who did it last" - but can this be ascertained? Without the police becoming involved?

I shuffle into the living room. It's first thing in the morning; I'm still in my night clothes, the children are circle-eyed and oval-mouthed - their faces distorted by the gravitational pull of the television screen - Margret is opening some post. I flop down on to the sofa.

Margret glances over at me. 'Have you got butter in your ear?' she asks, casually, before returning to her letters. Briefly, I wonder if this is dream... too close to call, I decide - may as well just press on regardless.

I reach up and touch the side of my head. My finger returns with some shaving foam.
'It's shaving foam,' I reply.Without looking up, Margret nods. 'Oh, right. It's so early - I didn't think you'd had time for a shave already.' She thinks it's too early for me to have had a shave, everyone, yet easily late enough for me to have butter in my ear. Move along, now. Nothing more to see here.

Party hosting isn't something one can just dive into headlong and willy-nilly. You don't throw a baby into the deep end of an Olympic pool with five-pound weights tied to its tiny legs (unless you want it to die), do you? As a partymeister, you have to be ready for any eventuality, such as running out of mixers or the token tranny slut not giving 100% on her blowjobs.

It's good to put a witty fag third in the coke line. Loosen his tongue up so the bon mots will start to flow.

The Octodog brings fun to an ordinary hotdog and meal, watch how many interesting and unique ways children can find to eat Octodogs.

The hotdog is among the top ten items found in many lists concerning choking occurrences in young children. Pediatricians recommend slicing a hotdog linearly. The method of slicing a hotdog linearly can reduce the chances of choking during consumption. A sliced hotdog is a safer way to serve hotdogs to children. Octodogs are not only fun, but may be a safer way to serve hotdogs.

I had this stream of consciousness flowing as I watched the Union Square crowds and it went something like this:

"Good God, they're from Ohio, surely. I could fit three of me into her calf muscles alone. And what is WITH all those khaki shorts? Do they all go on coach trips to Wal-Mart to buy them in bulk? Do they have khaki shorts buying parties or something?"

"I love your coat, but you need to straighten those shoulders or you'll end up with a hump. You're nearly there already. I bet you lack self-esteem. You speed date. Unsuccessfully."

"You look like you need to go to one of those people who teach you how to masturbate properly."

"You are trying just a little bit too hard. Fuck off back to Williamsburg."

"Your biggest ambition is to be the next Bachelorette. But you're too ugly."

"You're the kind of couple that is mildly religious and very hygienic. She says her mother is her 'best friend'. He dreams of getting a lawn mower you can sit down on."

"You are old and dull. If you're going to be old in Manhattan you need to be eccentric or stylish. Dull means you should move to Missouri."

"If that Jesus freak comes anywhere near me I'm going to stub my cigarette out in his eyeball."

"Christ, that child is fat."

"You iron your hair every morning don't you? And you don't really like sex all that much. And your fiance knows it, but everything is booked and it's too late to back out now. He has a secret porn stash. One day the tables will turn and you will get bad surgery and a vibrator in your desperate attempt to stop him running off with a 21-year-old dental nurse. But you'll win the divorce and end up sleeping with your fit young golf caddy and experiencing your first orgasm at the age of 47. The wait will be worth it."

"I can see where you're going with that look, but I hate you anyway."

"Oooh look. That's my third annorexic today!"

J.LO, MARC INFANT-ICIPATING?

June 8, 2004 --
JENNIFER Lopez was in such a hurry to marry Marc Anthony because she has a baby on the way, sources say.

A guest at Saturday's quickie surprise wedding told our source that Lopez, called "Lola" by her bridegroom, is pregnant. Another friend confirmed that La Lopez has been telling close pals she's expecting.

Chalupa assault didn't lack in flavor
Call it assault by chalupa.

The Des Moines Police Department has filed a simple assault charge against a Des Moines man for an alleged Thursday incident at Taco Bell, 1501 E. Euclid Ave.

The weapon? A crispy, chewy concoction called a chalupa.

"I've never had anything quite like that before," said Darren Cornwell, the detective who investigated the case.

Police received a report early Friday alleging that a disgruntled customer threw the snack at a Taco Bell employee just hours before...

A what?
A chalupa is a boat-shaped, fried tortilla that is filled with meat and garnished with sauce, lettuce, cheese and onions.

During the interview, which airs Monday at 10 p.m., Simpson shamelessly plugs a prank reality-TV show he claims to be developing. Simpson compared it to MTV's show featuring actor Ashton Kutcher pulling stunts.

"It's a takeoff on something called 'Punk'd.' It's me doing gags as, as Juice. Juice. What they call 'juicing' people," he said. "[On a scale of 1-10], it's 7 or 8, that it's gonna happen."

"I am angry with her [Nicole]. I am angry that she found herself hangin' out with this group of — who are these people?" Simpson said.

"I could count on my fingers the time I have seen Faye Resnick and this is a group of nomads, I guess, that Nicole started hanging out with, after we were divorced. And her mother didn't like 'em."

Sum 41 Forced To Flee The Congo
Canada's Sum 41 were evacuated from the war-torn African nation of Congo, where they were filming a documentary for War Child Canada...

...The foursome had planned to investigate the history of the conflict in the country, human rights and, more specifically, the children enlisted to enter combat.

I got my first bikini wax last Tuesday. After more than a decade of diligent shaving, I decided 2004 would have a carefree, hair-free summer. I held out so long mostly because of the "ow" factor, which you can read about in the summer issues of any Seventeen or Cosmopolitan dating back to, say, the time of Jesus. There's always a comparative chart, wherein shaving gets around two "ows" (presumably due to the nicks and cuts factor), Nair gets no ows but a citation for messiness, and waxing gets approximately fifty bajillion ows. The most. But, I reasoned, a little pain might be a better alternative to a crotch full of razor burn. Might as well give it a try...

Our favourite euphemism from the world of fashion.
On a magazine shoot expense claim:
flowers for the model = cocaine for the model/photographer.

"The defendant here is 'Michael Jackson, international celebrity,' a man whose life style to date would not have prepared him to adapt readily to a prison environment and routine, and whose physical stature will present its own problems for him in making the necessary adjustments."

Why New Yorkers are slow to marry, I'm not sure. Maybe the whole ethos of the city — the F. Scott Fitzgerald notion that there's always a better party somewhere, i.e. a better, more suitable lover somewhere — curtails the desire to settle down. I think high rents somehow affect our collective maturity level: because everyone just about breaks even or lives in debt, we don't think we're adults — adults have savings accounts — and thus we don't think we should marry. It seems that when New Yorkers do marry, they're in their 40s and 50s. They're more or less worn out by high rents and promiscuity, so they find a fellow middle-aged person to hold onto and collapse with.

Pink stopping in for drinks at The Sherman Oaks Galleria Cheesecake Factory Thursday evening.

June 2, 2004 -- MERE mortals are not the only ones going on reality-TV makeover shows. Former Motley Crue frontman Vince Neil (above) is subjecting himself to a trainer, plastic surgeon and lifestyle counselor for MTV's "The Remaking of Vince Neil," which will also offer the 43-year-old rocker a chance to work with a top producer and a recording artist to relaunch his career. Neil told the Las Vegas Review-Journal he's also in talks to reunite with Motley Crue if he and former drummer Tommy Lee can get past their feud.

Blogging is a pastime for many, even a livelihood for a few. For some, it becomes an obsession. Such bloggers often feel compelled to write several times daily and feel anxious if they don't keep up. As they spend more time hunkered over their computers, they neglect family, friends and jobs...

...Joseph Lorenzo Hall, 26, a graduate student at the School of Information Management and Systems at the University of California at Berkeley who has studied bloggers, said that for some people blogging has supplanted e-mail as a way to procrastinate at work.

People like Mr. Pierce, who devote much of their free time to the care and feeding of their own blogs and posting to other blogs, do so largely because it makes them feel productive even if it is not a paying job.

The procrastination, said Scott Lederer, 31, a fellow graduate student with Mr. Hall, has a collective feel to it. "You feel like you're participating in something important, because we're all doing it together," he said.

Because Frankie is one of those people who, first of all, feels everything at a very pitched level, because it's just the way she is. But her particular strategy is that rather than telling you what she feels, she expresses some other emotion -- usually anger -- that makes no sense and stands in for whatever it is that she's really feeling, and then she hopes that if you love her, you'll guess how she really feels. So if she feels, say, hurt at a level of 8, she'll get angry at a level of 8, and hope you can interpret. Or she'll feel lonely at a level of 7, so she'll act angry at a level of 7. Frankie's fluctuating anger levels are just a marker of her emotional intensity level, and the substance of the emotion could be almost anything -- fear manifests as anger, depression manifests as anger, embarrassment manifests as anger. It's like her emotional radio has a volume knob, but no way to change the station. So the more angry she gets, the more you know she's feeling something very strongly, but it's probably not really anger, you know? Anyway.

I think Frankie is one of those frustrating people who legitimately has both physical and mental problems that she is very unlucky to have, but who also is just not a very likable person. That's a very tough thing to deal with -- the legitimately sick person who's also whiny and a giant drama queen. Because unfortunately, bad things happen not only to good people, but also to people who kind of suck.

Ph-Ph-Ph-Phone Sex
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Reply to: prosa@pcisys.net
Date: Tue May 18 23:44:21 2004

I am starting a large phone sex business in July and need skilled phone operators.

Naturally, you must have a sultry, sexy voice and the ability to speak in a "dirty," erotic fashion.

Since our company will earn money based on how long operators can keep customers on the line it behooves us to hire women who can stuttter. It is logical that a woman who speaks with difficulty will take a longer time with each customer than a skilled speaker would. And bring in more money!

For instance you may say to an amorous fellow, "W-w-what are y-you w-w-w-wearing?" or "I-I-I-I'm t-t-t-touching my-my-myself." Most phone sex companies average 12 minutes per customer while we plan to average 20.

If you are a stuttering woman (or one who can expertly pretend to stutter), age 20-50, we would like to hear from you. Please e-mail your response and include some ORIGINAL sexy lines that are spelled out the way you will speak them (like the 2 above examples).

Also, let us know why you think you would excel at this job.

Th-th-thank you,
Paul