lord of the dance

I did Jazzercise for about five minutes last night and got terribly winded. I began to hyperventilate and convulse. I thought that my lungs were going to come streaming up through my throat. I pictured them hanging inside-out and deflated in front of me like a wet, grey wool jacket swinging from my lower jaw.

For this reason, I have decided that the internet is a much better place for me to showcase my unique talents.

For one thing, plagiarism is not nearly as effective in dance as it is in writing. Here, I can just cut and paste other people’s ideas. In the world of competitive dance, there’s no way around the fact that you have to eventually stand up and move. Even copying someone else’s moves requires physical effort.

So, like it or not, I’m back on-line and I’m further delaying the acceptance of my Flashdance-like birthright. Yes, the world will just have to wait for its galvanizing force in modern dance.

Most of you knew I wouldn’t really be calling it quits after just three months here on-line. Some of you, however, did. I am sorry that I frightened you like that. I know how hard it is to find quality, ego-driven content on the web these days.

Here, just because it makes me feel good, is a letter from a reader who apparently likes what it is that we do here. He was sorry to hear that I was shutting the site down.

It’s kind of depressing to see a site like yours disappear, the good ones are very rare. You and Jeff Kay are the top of the heap as far as blogs go… Anyway, I thought I would let you know how much your “daily-life” will be missed.

So, with that said, I am officially back. My muscles are sore from Jazzercise, but my mind is sharp, and I am ready to serve you.

First off, before we get started, let me ask you a question.

“Do you know this man?”

Well, his name is Stanley Tucci. He’s an actor, and a pretty good one too. As far as actors go, he’s one of the best.

If you enjoy him as an actor, I understand that. I like him too.

What I don’t understand, however, is the fact that one of you in this room got here by running the following search on Google.

“nude photos OR pictures OR galleries stanley tucci”

I can’t figure out why the Google bus would drop you off here, on my doorstep. My guess is that they just wanted you off and didn’t know where else to put you. How many sites out there could traffic in nude photos of Stanley Tucci? My guess is, not many.

So, I just wanted to let everyone know that someone here among us longs to see the pale, boney ass of the great thespian Stanley Tucci.

In similarly upsetting news, another one of you came to this site by searching for:

“skateboarder foot and sock fetish”

Would you excuse me for just a moment?

I just need to sit down here on the end of this stage for a minute with my…. skateboard, and slowly remove my shoes. Notice how beautiful my delicate ankles look through the thin, silky material of my socks.

Quick! There he is. In the corner! My ruse has flushed him out!

(I like pretending like I’m Columbo. It’s one of the few pleasures I still have in my life.)

operation whitney lover
As you may or may not know, the Diane Sawyer / Whitney Houston interview ran last night on ABC. While I wasn’t able to watch it, I was able to see most of the highlights on Access Hollywood before heading out for drinks with the artist presently known as Tubbs.

So, today at work, while talking to some of the secretarial staff in the copy room, I asked what people had done yesterday night. As it had been Wednesday, I knew full well that most of them had probably just been sitting home, watching TV. As it turns out, I was right. That gave me the perfect opening to ask, “So, what did you watch? Anything interesting?”


It was easier than selling cookie dough ice cream on the set of a Facts of Life reunion.

It turns out that three people had seen the Whitney interview. I confessed that I too had seen it, and that I thought Whitney came off really well, considering all that she’s gone through lately. I said that I was happy to hear that she’d gotten her life together, etc. The conversation lasted about five minutes and I was proud of myself for not going too far, not tipping my hand just yet. I didn’t mention how much her music meant to me, or how I collected magazines with her on the cover. I just simply said that I was happy for her and that she looked wonderful.

The next step is to let someone find me, during my lunch break, reading an article on Whitney Houston.

(If you’re coming late to this plot line, it’s kind of hard to explain. For reasons that still aren’t clear to me, I’ve decided to try to convince my family and coworkers that I am infatuated with the singer Whitney Houston. That’s it in a nutshell.)

news from the evil doctor skinner
When Doug Skinner read in the press yesterday that I was leaving the internet, he assumed that it was due to his taunting. While it’s true that I did not enjoy being told by Mr. Skinner that I enjoyed “blowing bus drivers,” it is also true that I do not give in to bullies. Quite the contrary, I seek them out and expose them for what they are. If I had left yesterday, it would not have been to avoid him in shame, but to have focused intently on my dance skills so that I could have hunted him down and defeated him in a dance challenge, as it was done in ancient times.

Here is Mr. Skinner’s note to me.

And what happens when Mark doesn’t want to play with his bloggy anymore? He blames it on Skinner. I can only shake my head in sorrow.

If I were you, I would tread lightly, Mr. Skinner.

As if that we not enough, he wrote later in the day about plush toys. I’m still not quite sure what he meant by this, but it concerns me greatly. My guess is that he’s trying to lure me into an infantile state so that he can have the advantage over me when it comes time to battle.

Here’s more news to cheer you up — the Mothman plush toy is now available over eBay. I have one, and can report that the cuddly little harbinger of death looks peachy jammed into my bookcase.

If you should be interested in bidding on the Mothman plush toy, follow this link . Just because Mr. Skinner likes to poke fun at your friend Mark’s expense, does not mean that we shouldn’t support the efforts of John Keel, the author of The Mothman Prophecies, the man who single-handedly ushered this furry, winged bug-man into the national discourse.

Well, we might as well get all of the Skinner stuff taken care of at once. Here’s a weird little story that he tipped me to a few days ago. Apparently, there was a woman in New Mexico named Girly Chen Hossencofft who disappeared in 1999. While her body has never been found, several people were recently tired for her murder. During the course of the trial, several interesting things came up, including, in the words of Mr. Skinner, “phony medical credentials, reptilian aliens, militia groups, vials of blood, mail-order brides, and a seemingly endless catalogue of peculiar behavior.”

Here is just a clip for a news story about the case.

(Albuquerque) Eight days after Girly Chew Hossencofft disappeared, Linda Henning spoke with her good friend, Mary Alice Thomas, inside Henning’s home. Revealing a sword and an unforgettable tale, Henning explained that she’d recently been “appointed queen of the world” and that she must prepare to use the sword in upcoming battles with other queens. “This is what I have to fight my battles with. Do you know where I can take classes?”

Thomas provided the bizarre account of the sword and Henning’s alleged claim to royalty during Thursday’s testimony in Henning’s murder trial.

Thomas also testified that Henning has anti-government views and often spoke about a fast-approaching “Great War” with space aliens.

Thomas testified that she helped Henning hide five gold disks from police after Girly Chew Hossencofft’s September 9, 1999 disappearance. Thomas says Henning told her the disks contained a formula for a serum which causes “cell regeneration” and would actually help planet earth recover from an alien attack. Thomas says Henning claimed the formula came from Diazien Hossencofft, the missing woman’s estranged husband.

As always, MarkMaynard.com is dedicated to giving you all the latest news concerning the “Battles of the Space Queens” in a timely fashion.

For more information on this case, you should visit MarkHorner.com.

Here’s another quick snip from one of Mr. Horner’s articles.

According to the source: Diazien Hossencofft convinced Henning that Girly was from another planet. That’s right, a space alien. As the alleged “brainwashing” continued, Henning became convinced that the “space alien”, Girly, planned to kill people on Earth. The source says Henning believed Diazien’s claim that Girly must be killed so that Girly could not kill people here on Earth. Later, THR will provide the name of the so-called “planet” and “race/order” of the “space alien”.

I like the name Girly. It’s a shame that she got mixed up in this whole mess.

kid dynomite
Jimmie “JJ” Walker is apparently, of all things, a columnist now. I’ve been a fan for a long time and it’s great to see him again, although it was weird to see him in this context. I found his article on a fairly right wing Jewish news site. It was like finding a handful of magical gold disks in a sack full of sand.

If you want to read JJ’s article on “the problem with America” (it ranges from radio shock-jocks who broadcast the sounds of people fucking in the pews during mass at St. Patrick’s to young girls who stay out late at night without chaperones), then click here.

If anyone in the audience today knows Mr. Walker, drop me a line. I’d like to set up an interview with him for Crimewave. I’ve been trying for a few years, and I keep getting close, but, at the last minute, it always falls apart.

the best idea i had today.. i’m sad to say
It occurred to me while lunching at the Old Country Buffet today that it would be funny to break into my friend Jeff’s house once his sons were a bit older and hide incredibly graphic gay porn where they might find it and think that it’s their dad’s. Somehow, to me, that sounds like the funniest thing ever. I can’t imagine anything funnier than Jeff’s kids spending the rest of their lives convinced that their father was living a lie, resenting them and their mother, and running off at every opportunity to cruise for Scranton-area street hustlers. That, in my opinion, is real comedy. While it embarrasses me to say that, it’s true. I’ve thought about it five times now and I giggle every time. (I need to use that in a short story. I doubt I’ll ever be told where Jeff’s new home is.)

This may not appeal to most of you, but Dave Miller sent this in today and I thought that it was worth sharing. The article concerns the more invasive routes corporations are taking to probe the minds of consumers. There’s a company in Atlanta that loads people into MRI scanners and then shows them bags of Dorito chips to see what parts of their brains light up.

I predict in three more years they’ll have a way to cause great physical pain if you should walk past a kiosk of Coke without putting one in your cart.

It won’t work on my home computer for some reason, but here’s a site where you can apparently take an interactive tour of the Wonderland Murder crime scene as though you’re John Holmes, the famous porn actor who played some kind of role in the events. Click here.

Jeff and I stood outside the house when we were in LA, but that’s as close as we got. Later that day we took turns standing in the cement footprints of John Holmes on the Porno Walk of Fame… We are really stupid.

the john look
Last weekend I went to the bar with some of Linette’s friends. We had a few drinks and talked. It was nice… up to a point.

At some point during the evening, I had to use the restroom. The restrooms at the Sidetrack are nice, so that wasn’t an issue (read: no trough). When coming out though, there was a woman dressed in leather, talking on a pay phone. She called me over and asked if I would take her somewhere. I explained that I’d like to but that I didn’t have a car there. When I told the people at the table what had happened, they were suspicious. One man, a guy named Barry, decided to use the bathroom and see if it happened to him. When he got back to the table a few minutes later, he said that she had not asked him for a ride. I, of course, thought that this meant she found me attractive and not Barry. His opinion however was that I looked like a John, the kind of guy that picks up prostitutes. Everyone took his side and made me cry.

lesbian health, film and rock-n-roll
My friend Jen in Colorado just got her web site up and running. I think it’s really cool. It deals with lesbian health issues and entertainment. That might not make much sense, but it’s a cool site and I wholeheartedly endorse it.

Please do yourself a favor and, even if you’re considering lesbianism, check it out. The site could save your life.

The site is called Waywardgrrrl.com. (Don’t type in “Waywardgirl.com” by accident. If you do that, you’ll be met with flashing yellow links that give you options like “Face-Sitting” and “Gynecological Exams.” Jen’s site, while dealing with some of these very issues, seems to do so in a more healthy way. Plus, it’s free!)

I didn’t see anything on “Lesbian skateboarder sock fetish,” but that might be there too.

controlling everything you see
Here is a list of the giant media conglomerations in the world. Between them, they own everything but this site and a few sections of Jen’s lesbian health site.

In related news, here’s the PBS Frontline show that spawned that list of giant media conglomerations. The name of the episode is The Merchants of Cool, and it’s great.

I’d forgotten about it until I noticed it on BoingBoing. I hate that I loved this show, but that they thought to link to it before me. Mother fuckers.

The show is about the co-opting of youth culture, how huge multinational companies spy on trendsetting kids, copy their style, mass produce it, and then sell it right back to the mainstream.

speaking of cool, trendsetting kids
My friends Dan and Jen are expecting their baby, a little girl, sometime in the next few hours. My good wishes are with them. They will be good parents.

OK, that’s a good note for me to leave on. There’s lots more, but I don’t have the energy just now. I was up late drinking with Tubbs last night and it’s catching up with me now.

Survivor was great tonight, by the way. They made the relatives of the survivors eat boiled tarantulas and pulsating giant grubs. It was great.

Just when I almost give up on the medium, something magical like this happens.

God bless you, Mark Burnett.

Good night, my children.

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