Inside the Dirty Mind of a Pop Princess

Yes, it's that cooze Christina Aguilera posing on the cover of this month's Rolling Stone fully naked, clutching her right tit while a blue guitar's neck rests over her left nipple. Pop Princess? I think not. Harborer of massive amounts of yeast waiting to be released? You bet.

"I like being different. I never followed the pack," she says. Sure you haven't. Gimme a fucking break. And now you get to live out your slutty fantasy to the fullest. What's next, a facial from Randy West?

Ya gotta love a whiner.

Who? Oh, it must be MARK KRISCHAK, Bible rocker whom I ripped in a review over at Demorama.com recently. Since then, he's been bombarding Deneen Gannon with emails begging her to remove the review. He has since filed a complaint with the BBB. What kinda dork is this?

Mark, pal YOUR MUSIC SUCKS. And now people who do a search on you will now be drawn to this nifty entry in my Blog as well, further making the case. If you decide to lodge a complaint, I hope you do it via carrier pigeon or angel, because the BBB certainly won't help you here (nor will they help in Demorama's case). The only good reviews you've garnered are from OTHER WASTOIDS at mp3.com and soundclick. Christ, what kind of clout is that? That's like mom coming in and telling you your songs are good (which they're not, I say again). I have songs up at soundclick. I think it's fun that they chart here but damn, if someone doesn't dig 'em, and I'm sure there are plenty, I wouldn't get all freaked out if someone said so.

You chose to submit your crap to Demorama. I gave it its fair shake. Your songs DO all sound the same. You CAN'T make out what kind of biblical quotes you are spewing because you ALWAYS "sing" in that demon from hell whisper. Dude, learn some new chords, get a guy who can drum, for CHRIST'S SAKE, write some songs! Do you realize most people say they like your shit on mp3.com and soundclick to merely get MORE HITS to push their tunes up the charts? Get with it, man. You aren't even in Lawrence Welk's league.

Batman Vs. The Joker For The Millionth Time (Part II)

(Go to the entry after this one to read part one.)

In this episode of The All-New (?) Adventures of Batman, the Dynamic Duo are forced to deal with Spider-Man outside Commissioner Gordon's office!

(duh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh...Batman?)

As Batman and Robin descended the True Value Batladder, a thought occurred to Stately Mr. Wayne. "Hey, you did check the oil level in the Batmobile didn't you?" he asked Robin.

"Sure did! Gosh Batman, but I just don't think I'll ever get over the government's decision to make us change the atomic-powered Batmobile into a gasoline guzzling NORMAL ride."

"Oh quit your whining, Robin" snapped Batman. "We still have the massive illegal atomic pile fueling the Batcave. Besides, you know you were going sterile from riding in the Batmobile when it was atomically powered!"

The Dynamic Duo jumped into the Batmobile, and with a crank of the keys and a foot to the accelerator, the car sped out of the Batcave. However, the zebra-striped gate outside the Batcave did not swing down, and Batman cruised on through, splintering it into a million pieces.

"Like that piece of shit would have ever stopped anyone from coming in there anyway," he muttered.

"Kept 'em out all these years so far," replied Robin.

"Oh shut up. And this time, could you please try opening the door when you exit the car instead of leaping over it like you always do? The girls don't care anymore, and frankly I'm tired of your elf slippers tearing up my upholstery."

When the Batmobile finally arrived at Commissioner Gordon's, Robin went ahead and attempted to leap over the Batmobile's door. Quickly, Batman yanked Robin by the ankle, causing the Boy Wonder to trip over the door and crack his head on the pavement.

"Serves you right, you little twit," whispered Batman. He quickly took a swig of his Inver House scotch whiskey that he hid in one of the many amazing compartments of his utility belt. He burped and almost gagged from the stench of his breath. By this time Robin had composed himself and was going haywire once again.

"Holy web of conspiracy!" cried Robin. "Look who it is!"

As Robin pointed madly across the street while jumping up and down as if he might piss his pants, Batman looked over to see Spider-Man leaving Commissioner Gordon's building. He quickly rushed over to the wall crawler.

"Hey what the hell do you think you're doing here?" Batman shouted. "This is DC turf, you freak!"

Spider-Man glanced over his shoulder at Batman and gave him the finger. "Buzz off, Fatman. I was here to see the commissioner's daughter."

"BARBARA GORDON? You...filthy...SLIME! You...are...going...to...pay. I swear, if you laid one hand on that girl, I...will..kill..you."

Spider-Man sighed and shook his head. "Look dipshit, you'll never be Adam West. Stop it already. The attempt at talking tough while hissing the words through your teeth is really pathetic. And let's be honest here, you know the Marvel Universe (tm) could kick all you DC dorks' asses any day."

Robin started to make a jump for Spider-Man, but Batman stopped him. "No Robin, let's not test that theory right now. He may actually be right. But hey! Spider-Man, where are you coming from, Spider-Man? Nobody knows who you even are...you filthy..little..."

Spidey had had enough. With a flick of his wrist, he shot a web across Batman's mouth to silence him. "Look here buddy. Everyone knows who I am. Who cares? You wanna talk about dense super hereoes? You're so dense that you don't even realize that Barbara Gordon is Batgirl! Dork! And at least I've always had a stylish costume that didn't look like throw away pajamas. Now I gotta get back before Mary Jane suspects anything." And with that, Spider-Man swung away into the city.

Robin stood motionless for a few moments. Finally, he turned to Batman. "I can't believe it. Barbara Gordon is Batgirl? But Barbara smells like wet dog! That webhead is lying!"

Batman could only murmur with the web gag sealing his mouth. "Mmmmf. hmmf hmm hmmf mmf mmf."

Robin nodded. "You said it. Oh, I suppose you need some help with that. Here, let me try to find the Bat anti-spider web dissolvant stuff in your belt."

The sun was setting on Gotham City. If Batman and Robin were ever to learn of the Joker's dastardly plan, Robin would have probably been better off letting the web dissolve on its own than rummaging around Batman's tights and causing a public scene...which was exactly what he was doing.

Fan Fiction!

We'll get back to that porn in a bit, but now I'd like to lay on you my two-part piece "Batman Vs. The Joker For The Millionth Time". If you're not familiar with the subject, there's been a thing called fan fiction that's existed for ages. Thanks to the Internet, the whole thing took off like brain cells exploding from angel dust. For some reason, people like to write about Captain Kirk and Mister Spock of Star Trek having sex, as well as goofy shit like Harley Quinn and Batgirl getting together and fucking. Yes, it's basically more sex shit.

Anyhow, I came up with this...another writtenbyme treasure. Actually, the first part of this appeared on Echo From Esoterica before The Mad Press section came along (the original section was called "Superheroes"). I enjoyed writing this bit of goofy slop and patterning Batman and Robin after their '60s TV version. It doesn't star Adam West and Burt Ward, but it does star two guys thinking they're Adam West and Burt Ward pretending to be Batman and Robin. Freaky.

The All-New (?) Adventures of Batman!

Batman and Robin return in an all new way like you've never seen before. Thrill as fiction twists with fact in this original caper!

THE ALL NEW(?) ADVENTURES OF BATMAN

Starring Barry "Hot Gut" Croison as BATMAN and Lawrence "Good 'N Plenty" Hawthorne as ROBIN!

"BATMAN Vs. THE JOKER FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME"

It was another dirty afternoon in Gotham City. Long gone were the fabulous Sixties when Adam West donned the Batsuit. The city was clean then. The villains were ridiculous. Camera angles were slanted and Batgirl was too damn hot. Things were different now. Batman had turned into the "Dark Knight" and Gotham City was a creepy wasteland of gothic intensity.

Bruce Wayne sighed as he slipped into his costume. It was the same one Adam West had worn. He knew people thought he looked ridiculous in it. They always pointed at the bat insignia on his chest and screamed "It's only a cheap sticker!" His muscles sagged in the grey ennui of the design. He despised the cowl with the blue painted on eyebrows and outlined nose break. What a life. Maybe avenging your parents' murder wasn't worth it anymore. Besides, the Joker and all those other goofy villains always broke out of jail anyway. What was it with Arkham Asylum that they just couldn't keep that jackass locked up?

Just then Dick Grayson walked in. His leggings had runs in them and his "R" (ahem) sticker was slowly peeling off his costume. As always, he was hyper and had the latest news about the latest bad guy doing the latest evil deeds in Gotham City. Bruce rolled his eyes in disgust as he pulled his cowl over his saddened face (the magic costume-transforming Batpoles had been out of service for weeks, and since the Batcave had always been a secret and Alfred had been laid out with TB, there was no one around to repair them).

"Holy Seventies game shows Batman!" exclaimed Dick. "The Joker's wild once again and terrorizing the streets of Gotham! What will we do?"

Batman slumped. "Well, I guess we'll walk over to the Batphone located under the cake server and call Commissioner Gordon and listen to him freak out in that annoying accent of his like we always do before deciding on a plan of action."

Robin punched his fist into his palm just like he always did. "Gosh, Batman. You're so with it! I hope someday I can be as sharp as you."

Batman shook his head and let out a silent fart, hoping that it would reach Robin and bring him to a slow and painful death. "What I wouldn't give to be shagging Julie Newmar right about now. Ah well, to the um...Batphone."

The two strolled three steps over to the ridiculous cake server. "You know, Robin. We really should just get a cordless phone, or something a bit more modern than this eyesore." Batman then pressed the black button in the middle of the phone, causing it to flicker in a red glow. He whacked it a couple times with the receiver until it finally lit up fully. "See what I mean? This thing is worthless."

He waited for the Commissioner to pick up on the other line but was only met with a recording that said the area code had been changed. Batman slammed the receiver down. "Goddammit! What are we going to do now? I can't dial with this piece of crap because there is no dial!" He picked up the bust that contained the secret controls to the Batcave and threw it to the ground in anger. "I suppose we're just going to have to DRIVE downtown. What a waste of time. Is the ladder ready?"

Robin nodded. "It's propped up next to the Batpoles just as you asked. I even wedged a book between the bookcase and secret opening so you wouldn't throw your back out like last time."

"Good thinking, Boy Wonder! I'd hate to be slowed down by those percasets again, no matter how groovy they make me feel. To the Batladder!"

And with that, Batman and Robin jogged two steps to the Batladder and proceeded to climb down to the ever popular Batcave, complete with illegal atomic pile!

Ridiculous Erotica

I'm going to start sharing some old writings of mine that appeared in various places in the past. I think it's amusing to look back and see what other kind of shit I was dabbling in from time to time. This first piece is called "And That's Why The Lady Is A Vamp, Part One". It was written back during my debauched days on writtenbyme.com. One of the big attractions there was the Erotica section, usually filled with ridiculous porno tales and shit for people to either get off to while they were writing it, or for readers to get off to while they were reading it. I dunno. Anyway, I came up with this crap as a kind of "clean" argument. I always liked Anais Nin's writings. She always seemed to strike the right chord without delving into gobbed-out fucking that ended in facials or double teams. So here is part one of the three parter that was never finished. What can I say? I got fucking bored with writing porn. Oh, and yeah, I kinda stuck two women together. It's never been a personal fantasy of mine, but I figured it would score a lot of reads. I was right. Give the people what they want and they shall flock like flies to shit.

And That's Why The Lady Is A Vamp (Part One)

The first part of the tale of Collette Frenesi and her lover Chloe Vinet. Turn your decoder rings to A-12.

Some time ago, probably before you were born, there lived a lady named Collette Frenesi. She was what the locals referred to as a "vamp". Now don't let your mind get filled with images of blood thirsty, pointed teeth creatures. Don't assume that we are about to embark on some gothic journey that would be deemed acceptable by those who would find that kind of thing...interesting. Just let time freeze for a moment or two and listen to what I have to say.

Collette was, in that whispered way that a buzzing underground of personal fanatics might whisper, the talk of the town. This was local knowledge. It was never said aloud; it was just fact. Collette had discovered her sexuality early on and by the time she was a young woman, she started to entertain the street below her third story window. Passersby would often be treated to glimpses of Collette slipping into one of her many imported silk kimonos, or sometimes they might see one of her long legs arched out to the sill as she pulled on her stockings.

Collette wasted no time in learning about the city's decadent night life. She could often be found frequenting the local opium dens, chatting up the clientele with a combination of her enigmatic charm and supple body language. Both men and women were naturally drawn to her in these settings, but privately Collette sought intimate companionship from her childhood friend Chloe Vinet. The two had spent many years together, and explored their budding sexuality when the two were thrown into the throes of self-discovery.

However, it wasn't long before some of the gentlemen from the opium dens started coming by and asking to spend time with Collette. Chloe would often be the one to greet the men at the door with a forlorn look in her eye. Yet Collette would always slide up behind her, her arm slipping around Chloe's waist. A kiss to her cheek and a quick hello to the suitor. Usually it was enough to confuse the men, who often stammered at the sight and would be reduced to spouting off some nonsense as to why they had come to see Collette, hurrying off in a nervous rush.

Chloe would often ask if Collette ever had the urge to be with a man sexually. Collette wouldn't ever answer. Instead, she would take Chloe in her arms and kiss her sweetly, her slender hands flowing down Chloe's body like some velvet whisper that said much more than real words could ever convey. They would then spend time making love to each other, their cries of pleasure wafting out the open windows and echoing down the cobblestone street.

Dixie Dregs on tap.

So I'm sitting here listening to one of those 20th Century Masters cheapie best ofs that Universal continues to put out at a blinding pace. This time it's the Dixie Dregs, and this fucker's a good compilation. There's nothing wrong with a budget-priced best-of, if it has good sound quality, which this line always does. Fuck expansive liner notes and all that. Sometimes you just need the music. This is good for that. It's my first Dregs album as well, so it's serving as a groovy springboard to get into the regular albums. I smell an amazon.com trip coming up in a few clicks. This motherfucker's tasty!

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Women In Rock! (Or something like that...)

So you know, Rolling Stone has recently run its annual women of rock issue, and what can I say? Putting Britney Spears on the cover of such an issue made me laugh, but then again these were the same people who had Jennifer Love Hewitt on a cover not too long ago and then proceeded to trash her new disc. I guess you just have to make do with what you have sometimes, but the fact that Spears is still getting attention for her music at all is puzzling. Once again she's featured decked out in some slutty garb that shows off her real talent - looking like a brainless creampuff in heat. Not to ride that whole "she dresses in slutty attire" thing like so many other detractors do, but she does. It'd probably look hot on anyone else. Well, save for Christina Aguilera who looks like a whore no matter what she wears, and fucking knows it.

So anyway, the issue highlights a bunch of interviews with various women in the biz, such as Sharon Osbourne, whom I do admire a lot, but then they also have the expected also-rans such as Nelly Furtado whom no one will care about beyong her next appearance on a NOW compilation. When she spouts such piffle as "Women are so damn sexy. We're the sexy species." I can only wonder how much higher her IQ goes.

Then there's Tori Amos, whom you all know I can't stand who decrees that Mary Poppins is her hero. Oh, how Tori! And how about the overrated Michelle Branch (another one slotted for here today-gone tomorrow careers) who lays on such deep knowledge as "For teenage girls, everything seems like the end of the world". She also likes Lisa Loeb! Doesn't that say it all?

Oh, and they also spotlight Jewel. Man, they must have really been needing to fill up some pages by giving her some more press. "I was raised in a house where I read Nietzsche and Dostoyevsky and Kant, and I was never taught that my mind was feminine." Yes, unfortunately you were never taught that you are a large pus-filled pimple on the face of all that is music, either.

Mandy Moore! Is any career of hers worth mentioning at this point? She changed her hair color. Yay. That just goes to show that the only news worth talking about regarding her has absolutely nothing to do with her movies or music. Makes sense to me. They both suck.

There's a big multi-page ad from Herbal Essences featuring BOND. You know, those four ladies that look all "sexy" and play violins and shit. Yeah. They do well in Vegas I hear. 'Nuff said.

Meanwhile, Joni Mitchell lays down the law elegantly, while Avril Lavigne lets her ego do the talking with such nonsense as "When I was ten, I was like, 'Whoa, I'm a poet." Christ. Then she says, "I'm not going to call myself punk, because punks aren't on MTV." Yes, but a shitload of shitty music is, and I would never hesitate to call you shit, Avril.

Yes, so score points for Sharon and Joni and a few others I didn't mention here, but let the whole fucking boat burn down with the rest of 'em. If I'm forced to hear philosophy from Michelle Branch, Jewel, and Avril Lavigne, I don't want to hear another fucking word. None of these women have anything interesting to say that hasn't already been echoed a million times over in some rad zit medication commercial years ago.

They always wind up disappointing you.

It never fails. Musical artists always manage to throw a dreaded curveball that doesn't sit well every now and then. Case in point Phil Mann, who had previously released a really good album called Damn Glad To Meet Ya under the name My Fine Friend Phil. Well, Mann is back with a new album called Peace. On it, he has re-recorded the best song from the other album, called "Matchless". On the new version, he slowed it down (bad idea number one), and then threw some crummy female backing vocals on top (bad idea number two). For shame, Phil. You didn't need to fuck with the formula.