Love for Sale (cash only, must have own truck)

Trolling around craigslist in search of a few laughs is so 2001. And yet: what if we've been trolling in the wrong places all along? Sure, Missed Connections is often a treasure trove of humor, what with its unique combination of the pathetically lovelorn and the perpetually angry. But the real heart of craigslist? One door over at the For Sale section.

What, you don't believe me? Then come along on a little guided tour:

First of all, For Sale is great because you get to see how people live in the "furniture" section. Take this guy: I know not everyone can do like the catalogs and shoot their furniture in front of a picture window overlooking the ocean. But c'mon, man; at least pick up a little.

And what to make of this upholstery decision? I like that the owners explain the chair no longer matches their decor: one can only assume they finally decided to update their living room's Arsenio Hall Set Circa 1994 look.

Then we have people selling things that don't make any sense. I've been staring at this ad for the last five minutes and I still don't get it. Is it some kind of pyramid scheme? A postal employee with sticky fingers? Someone who's just really awful at math?

And while I'm not sure what this guy plans to do with the orphans once he gets to Haiti, I think it's in everyone's best interest if we make a pact right now that we won't help him get there.

Then there's the best section of all, the creamy nougat of the whole craigslist experience, if you will: Barter. If computers had a smell function, you'd need to disable it right now, or you'd be trying to wash the stink of desperation from your clothes for weeks.

There's got to be an interesting story to this one, right? And what's so bad about South Philly?

The barter section is also chock full of deals that couldn't possibly go wrong.

At first I thought this sounded like kind of a raw deal for the girl, but then I saw that he was offering her copies of the pictures. And hey: what if this guy’s like the next Robert Maplethorpe, or, um … some other famous photographer whose name I’d know if I wasn’t culturally retarded? Then it's a freakin' meal ticket. Then again, it could turn out to be this guy. But that's life, right? It's a crazy Tilt-A-Whirl of a world we live in, and sometimes you gotta just pay your nickle and hope the toothless carny remembered to screw the bolts in tight this time.

And, of course, it wouldn't be craigslist without someone asking for a massage. This particular post was just regular-creepy until that last line put its wet little finger in your ear and swished it around.

Finally, I'm glad to see the ad campaign is working.

Well, that's all. For now. Tune in next week, when we'll expose the seamy underbelly of Ebay's used-sock fetishists.

A necessary detail?

From this morning's NYT:

"Mr. Qumi’s remarks, in a 90-minute interview over tea and large pistachio nuts at the Iranian Embassy here, amounted to the most authoritative and substantive response the Iranians have made yet to increasingly belligerent accusations by the Bush administration that Iran is acting against American interests in Iraq."

Who knew Streisand's hairstylist could be so intimidating?

This may be old hat, but via the funny sports blog Kissing Suzy Kolber is a great, thought long (20 minute) YouTube clip (scroll down a bit, but there's good stuff along the way) wherein Kevin Smith talks about his experience writing a script for a Superman movie in the 90s that never got made. The movie was to be produced by Jon Peters, a musclebound freak (a book about him said he was prone to violence and could barely read) who started out as Babs' hairstylist and has had producer credits for Vision Quest (probably the best 80s sports movie ever), the first Batman, Wild Wild West, Ali, and the most recent Superman, among others.

I would have to agree with that blog that, while I don't really enjoy his movies, I'm glad someone like Kevin Smith is around. Not only is he entertaining in person and by all accounts unpretentious and accessible, his success gives us all hope.

A Curious Case of Editi

Last night was Repeat night on NBC, including 30 Rock. I am a big fan of 30 Rock, not least because of the episode on last night, which I caught previously. Plots and subplots included Tina thinking Tracy is illiterate and Alec Baldwin's CEO trying to act. Tina uses the memorable exhortation "nut up" and they flash to a clip of Tracy Jordan's movies where he just spouts buddy cop movie cliches one right after the other, including a funny variation on Murtaugh's "I'm too old for this shit."

However, my memory must have been faulty because that line wasn't on the show. Maybe I imagined it. But then I noticed that one of the plotlines wasn't set up properly. The first time I saw the episode, two of the writers decide to trick the ditzy star of the show, played by that blond from Ally McBeal. The scene where they plant the idea that she is going to be fired is missing...I rewinded on TiVo to double check. They come back from commercial and the blond confronts Tina about it. No set up at all. At least 2 short scenes were missing.

So I guess, for some reason, Repeat Episodes get edited or cut between their first and second showings. It must be for time, to fit in more commercials, but why didn't that happen in the first one? Very strange. Has anyone ever noticed this before with other shows?

Hey, this would make a great story!

The most hated words a writer can here from his/her non-writer friends. Basically, anything can make a good story, so anything can make a bad story too. But there are some stories that are just too friggin amazing to ever be "story-ized", and this is one of them. Money quote:

The girl, called Ro Cham H'pnhieng, went missing as an eight-year-old along with her cousin when they were sent to tend cows near the border with Vietnam.

Villagers believed they had been eaten by wild animals until a girl was caught last week by a logging team as she was trying to steal some food they had left under a tree.

With blackened skin and hair stretching down to her legs, she was unrecognizable apart from a scar across her back that allowed her father to pick her out.

After 18 years in the wilderness, police said she was able to say only three words: father, mother and stomach ache.

The ol' hatchet job

Did anyone else read William T. Vollman's review of Anthony Swofford's new book Exit A in the New York Times Book Review this weekend?

Holy crap.

"Imagine my satisfaction," reads the Scribner publicity office's form letter that came with an advance copy of this book, "when I found myself immersed in a dark love story that was all at once sensual, moody and elegant." Imagine my dissatisfaction when I found myself not in the least immersed in a love story to which none of these adjectives apply, not even "dark." For this is a novel that ends as follows: "He wanted to find answers to other questions, too, some of his own, some of hers, but they would answer those later. Together." This is a fair sample of Anthony Swofford's prose in his first novel, "Exit A," prose that befits a Harlequin romance novel more than functioning as (to quote the publicity office again) confirmation of Swofford as a major literary talent."

The next paragraph of the review starts: "Do you want more?" To which I answered, silently, "No." But then, on further consideration, admitted, "Well, maybe more. Just a little bit."

Why is it that I'm always so conflicted about nasty reviews? On the one hand, I really like the idea of a criticism with teeth -- of reviewers willing to be, as Lester Bangs said in Almost Famous, "honest, and unmerciful." If I read a positive review, I want to feel like its writer really meant it, that I'm not just being pumped full of bullshit. And, for this to be true, I guess we need some nastily negative reviews, right? It's like I've always said about fortune cookies: I'd be more inclined to believe them if every now and then they said "Don't buy that Volkswagon" or "You sure suck."

On the other hand, I guess I come from the polite Southern school of If You Don't Have Something Nice to Say Don't Say Anything at All. And while I'm not advocating the NYTBR leave a blank spot in its pages for every lousy book, isn't there a way to say a book's not very good without being mean about it? Is it possible to not pull punches while also refusing to slap the author around unnecessarily?

For instance: There's something about quoting back the end lines of a novel, as Vollman does here, as if to say "See? Even if you make it to page 300, this is all the reward you'll get," which seems particularly harsh to me. But maybe I'm just overly sensitive. It's not, after all, an ending that gives anything away, so Vollman hasn't ruined it for anyone, though I get the sense that's exactly what he's trying to do.

I generally feel wary about reviewers quoting lines out of context. Vollman also mocks this one: "'What's the number?' She dialed the phone and ordered. They went downstairs to wait for the delivery."

So, okay, not exactly poetic, but it seems like a weird thing to pick out as representative: a couple lines in which they wait for a pizza?

None of this is which to say the book is being misread, or misunderstood. I've seen bad reviews elsewhere, including one in Entertainment Weekly that concluded, "Swofford's writing here is just not very good."

Ouch.

Unsolved Mysteries of the Cinema, #837 and #838

#837 -- The Blues Brothers
The newly reformed band gets their first gig masquerading as The Good Old Boys at a honky tonk named The Country Bunker. After nearly getting booed off stage doing their regular material, they churn out the only country songs they can think of -- the theme from Rawhide, and "Stand by Your Man." The crowd goes nuts. Fast-forward to the end of the night -- it's closing time, as the bartender sweeps up and almost everyone has left; the band is winding down an encore version of Rawhide, and the owner tells them they're pretty much the greatest band The Country Bunker's ever seen. Unsolved mystery: What in the world did they play for what was surely a two-hour-plus set?

#838 -- Singles
Campbell Scott puts the moves on Kyra Sedgwick while flipping through old records at his apartment and reminiscing about past relationships. Unsolved mystery: At this stage in their burgeoning relationship -- they've yet to kiss, and in fact the last we saw of them she was attempting to let him down gently after a reluctant lunchtime date -- why on Earth is she over at his apartment doing laundry?

Rural Jurors Really Do Exist!!

On a CBS hour-long news show, an attorney on a murder case finally admitted that there is such a thing as a "Rural Juror". Apparently they expect men to act like gentlemen, and women to act like ladies, and thus will have no truck with a 17 year old girl who may or may not have died while engaging in auto-erotic axphis...asphix...axphix...stranging with a 37 year old dude.

Mad Props must go to Tina Fey and 30 Rock for positing the existence of such creatures before science and the media were able to provide empirical confirmation.

When Tutors Attack: Thoughts on the New Season of 24

So our boy Jack is back from that Chinese prison, and, predictably, the shit is already flying big time. After last season, we all expected big things from this one. And by "we," I mean, those of us who are stupid enough to fall into the same goddam hole six times in a row. So as a card-carrying moron who likes to turn his brain off and watch explosions and implausible solutions and tiny little men shouting "there's no time!," here are my thoughts on the new season so far.

This isn't shaping up to be a great season.

I know, that's not a very popular opinion right now. But here's the thing: a good season of 24 starts off with a bang, a huge grabber, something like "President Palmer gets a bullet through his neck in the first two minutes." This season it was supposed to be Jack back from the hands of those Chinese bastards. And that's a good one. But it seems like its over already. After a few hairy, trembly minutes, Jack is back -- hair highlighted, cell phone programmed, clean and killing and shouting directions. Remember, we're four hours removed from Jack stumbling off that cargo plane, all shaky and bearded and "we don't know how he's going to react..." I don't know, that was a good gimmick, but I don't think they played it up very well. I know he's having these moments, but its more like a tick than a serious change. At least for now.

This plot is a little shaky, even for 24:

Anybody who likes 24 appreciates the absurdity of the plot. There's no getting around the fact that, in even the most, well, plausible isn't the word so much as swallowable season of 24, there are going to be huge moments of cartoon plotting and unintentional comedy. But in the good seasons, there's at least a plausible engine driving the explosions and car chases and satellite repositioning. This season it seems they've gotten a little lazy, and instead of doing the work necessary to make me able to swallow the action, they've resorted to the "plot summary" sound bite: "now we have to find Fayed. That's our only hope." Or, "now we have to find Hassan. That's our only hope." Well, not really. There are probably a lot of different options. But if all of you keep shouting that this one bullseye where the plot is headed is the only place for it to go, well then I guess I'll swallow it and just sit back and watch. It's a lazy, bully move, and they're relying way too much on it already.

The unintentional comedy factor is high already

I love the unintentional comedy factor of 24, but it seems like there's been a lot of it already, especially for a season with no Kim "Cougar" Bauer. Like last night, when Jack is following the terrorist and decides, all of the sudden, that even though the guy doesn't know Jack or Hassad, following him on the freeway will be way too much of a risk. Better to have one guy slam into him with a stolen car, and the other guy offer to drive him wherever he wants to go.

Side characters are not pulling their weight

The side characters on 24 are always a key ingredient. They're alternately annoying, plotting, evil, likeable, or something. But they always add important balance to the story: it's easier to swallow Jack ripping some dude's throat out (okay, I admit: that scene was awesome) when you have good old Edgar slaving away at his computer, bitching about something or other and staring at Chloe over his monitor. This time out we have two strangely photogenic geeks fighting it out for Chloe. Wait, did I just say fighting it out for Chloe? Jesus, even for 24, that's improbable.

We also have Kumar from Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle. The guy is actually a pretty good actor. But I can't help but think, every time he's onscreen, Whoa, dude, what's Kumar doing with that gun? I'm thinking, wasn't he, like, helping that little moptop pussy with his trig homework like two hours ago?

And more Palmers are not necessarily a good thing. How did Wayne Palmer get to be president? I think we need at least a little bit of a description on that one, some throwaway lines, at least. I mean, last time we saw him, wasn't he running around some compound in LA with a gun in his hand? Wayne is fine. I like him, although I liked him more as the "is he evil or is he not" Principal of Sunnydale High. It's just that after President Whathisname, that great slimy Nixon from last season, a President with a little more weight behind him might be a good thing. If last season proved anything, its that Jack is more interesting when the President isn't in his jock and he's gotta work a little harder.

And has anybody else noticed that Regina King has the George Bush "Only Person in the Family with a Southern Accent" thing going on?

The one exception might be the Peter MacNichol dude from Ally McBeal and Numbers. He's got potential, although he's very straightforwardly evil at this point.

Black and white characters:

But that's the other thing: most of these characters seem pretty much good or evil, not much in-between. There was a big good to evil shift with Kumar, but everybody else seems pretty straightforward. Regina King and the Ally McBeal dude roles might as well be played by Al Franken and Bill O' Reilly for all the subtlety we're seeing in those characters so far. On a good season of 24, one of these people would surely surprise us (most likely: the Ally McBeal guy, Hassad, or Chloe's annoying British ex-husband). I'm also keeping my eye on Wali, Regina King's upright main squeeze. That guy is a little too out of central casting Upright Muslim Guy, and he could have a surprise in store for us. So I'm hoping something'll happen with these characters, but so far it's looking a little straightforward, and that's no good and not very interesting, either.

Civil Liberties for Dummies

And that leads me to the thing that's kind of creeping me out. 24 has always toyed with this idea of civil liberties versus national security. And toyed with it is the right phrase, I think, because, like a 12 year old boy with one porn magazine, they pull it out constantly, flop it around in their hands, pore over it, toy with it, then wipe themselves down and then put it away. They never really do much with it, other than, you know, what 12 year old boys do with porn mags. I know it's not in their best interest to actually take a side on this thing -- this is, after all, the cartoon that is 24 and not the docu-drama that is The Wire -- but they're going to that well so often, and so much, and with such ripped-from-the-headlines detail (rounding up the "enemy combatants," filing sneaky-ass search warrants, soliciting personnel records, etc), and with such over-the-top, obvious, For Dummies expository dialogue, that I can't help but feel like they're gonna have to do more than just play around with this thing.

I am a moron

All that said, of course I'll keep watching. And I was glad to see that Wile E. Terrorist finally got a shot off at Jack Roadrunner Bauer and his CTU buddies, with that nuclear blast. I hope I'm wrong about all of the above, especially the plot stuff -- they've fooled me before, and I'm hoping they do it again. As usual, I'll be watching straight through the final saving of the world, wondering why I'm too goddam stupid to cut it off, and waiting for Patrick Swayze to swagger in as a world famous bouncer-terrorist-hunter and save the day with a well placed roundhouse kick.

A Car Commercial Writer Gets Workshopped

…What I liked about this was the brevity, the way you told a complete story in what seemed like 30 seconds.

…I agree. Your language and use of imagery is extremely economical.

…But I wonder….well, maybe there are some parts that should be further developed.

…Yeah, I felt like this piece needed more. It’s kind of thin on characterization, actually…

…And the dialogue…

…Yeah, the dialogue was functional…..

…at best.

…the man and the woman, who I assume are married, they seem to be talking past each other.

…yeah, they are just delivering information to each other; there’s no deeper communication going on.

…they are telling us what I think should be shown, ultimately.

…I agree, I agree. They tell us the car is fast. Great. But how about showing us?

…Let us experience the fastness of the car!

…The same thing with the gas mileage. Can you make that a story? Can you make it come alive? Like they are driving in the desert and make it to the end because of their fuel economy? Maybe there’s another car that doesn’t make it….

…Right! And it creates a moral dilemma!

…Like the biblical parable of the virgins and the oil! Do they stop? Because if they stop, they might run out of fuel…with the added weight…they might not make it…

…And I know the salesman is a foil; he’s the one that should be communicating this information…I get that…but given the shortness of the piece I wonder if he’s even necessary…

…And I like the twist. I really do. The husband just wants the car that has the hot model sitting in it, while the wife has all the details and the facts down about the sensible minivan. I like that, even though, I will admit…

…it’s kind of cliché.

…And is it really female empowerment to want the minivan with the great fuel economy and removable seats that she can presumably fit all the kids in as she rides around doing traditional soccer mom things?

…yeah.. Exactly. It seems empowering at first, but when you think about it, it is just reinforcing traditional gender roles.

…I know, and the man wants the sports car for pleasure, obviously, and the woman wants the minivan for domestic chores…obviously we are tracking really close…

..very close…

…close to the paradigm of how woman were taught to approach a lot of things…

…like sex…

…but the man does not come off so well either…

…no, the man is just an oaf.

…maybe that’s where the salesman comes in. He breaks the deadlock.

…Maybe he’s gay?

…He’s gay, he’s the disinterested arbiter. He has all the facts. Something like that.

…you lose the twist, though…

…maybe the gay salesman’s repulsed by what he’s doing? He’s unhappy in his role?

…I don’t know if bringing that out helps the story, but…

…maybe keep it in the background. Hint at it.

…in that case, he may need some dialogue.

…yeah. Something that will deepen the his character, and by extension the plot…

…because do we really just want this story to be about a car?

…But what if this car…what if this decision about the car is like the key to the marriage?

…Exactly! It symbolizes their marriage and their conflicts as a couple…

…while also showing how their future hinges on this decision?

…maybe the husband’s gay? Hint at that, perhaps?

…On the surface here, we just have a couple arguing over a new car…

…but it could be so much more…

…I think you add 1,000 words or so and you’ll have something.

…at least 1,000…it’s so short anyway, it’s practically flash fiction…

…as is, this story has problems, not insurmountable, but…

…nothing a few thousand words couldn’t fix…unless…

…unless…maybe the hot model in the car is holding up flash cards!

…yeah! She’s holding up flash cards….

…that say things about the car…

…that aren’t true…but the man repeats them just to convince the wife to buy the car!

…Yeah, it’s a roadster or sports car, and this guy is going on about its removable seats and gas mileage and room for 8, and it’s…

…it’s obvious that this car can’t do that…

…and the wife is just getting so perplexed, because they are so obviously lies…

…yeah! And she looks in the car and sees the hot model with the flash cards…

...and pulls him away. To a minivan…

…that actually has those attributes.

…so you really don’t need the salesman, after all.

...Yeah, I would get rid of him.

The KGB Files

The Barrelhouse rolled into the KGB Bar in NYC last Friday night with a mean crew of readers and they meant business.

Greg Ames left his buddy Ed Asner home to soak in the tub but got things started with a college romance called “Juliet.” The moral of the story: for one quarter of football sometime in the 90’s the Buffalo Bills were gods.

Paul Hostovsky came up next with poems about family, sex, and library science. A natural combination.

Joe Oestreich closed up the first half of the reading with his essay “This Essay Doesn’t Rock,” winner of the first Barrelhouse Invitational Pop Culture Essay Contest, featuring Dick Cheney, Ted Haggard, Keith Richards, and a little fucker named Hunter who is way cooler than we’ll ever be.

After the break, Wendy Wimmer read “Billets Duex.” I thought I saw iPod guy standing in the back. It was dark so it was tough to be sure.

The night closed with a preview of Issue 4 when Jennifer L. Knox read from her forthcoming work and a select few from her first book, A Gringo Like Me.

Sorry if you missed it Internet readers, it was a blast.

And for those of you who did make it out, stay classy New York. See you soon.

How The Wire Ruins Actors For Me

If you have had the great luck to see the trailer for the new Hillary Swank vehicle, Freedom Writers, in which she plays a former Marine named "Gunny Sgt. Michelle Pfeiffer" and teaches the children to be our future, and lets them lead the way through Gangster's Paradise while writing about their lives, then you also had the opportunity to see Robert Wisdom, the actor who plays Bunny Colvin, the down-to-earth education and police reformer from The Wire's last 2 seasons, portray a school bureaucrat who dares to get in the way of Hilary Swank and her patented "Roundhouse Kick Poverty By Writing" method of getting kids kicked out of poverty. How depressing.

But then you can also see Cookout, you can also find the actor who plays Reg E. Cathay, Carcetti's trusted campaign manager, in a silly role in a silly movie.

Also, the actor who plays Lestor Freamon can be heard voicing some car commercials.

It is silly of me to feel this way, I know--but it is legitimately irksome that Bunny's role in Freedom Writers is basically as a Hilary Swank Heroine Enhancer and Oscar Nomination Facilitator...I think the backlash against Hillary should start here...Chad, you available for some guest-posting?

Barrelhouse at KGB Bar TONIGHT

I bet you had a great time last weekend—New Year's eve parties, drinking, kissing, ball dropping. And now your life has returned to it's boring normal. Well guess what New York? We're here to save your social life.

TONIGHT from 7 -9 pm Barrelhouse presents Greg Ames, Paul Hostovsky, Joe Oestreich, Wendy Wimmer, and Jennifer L. Knox!

Come to the KGB Bar at 85 East 4th Street and party like it's still 2006 and you didn't wake up with puke on your shirt Monday morning.

Here's who you'll meet:

Greg Ames lives and works in Brooklyn. His stories have appeared in McSweeney’s, Open City, The Sun, Fiction International, and Other Voices. To learn more visit www.gregames.com

Jennifer L. Knox was born and raised in Lancaster, California, where absolutely anything can be made into a bong. Her work is featured in Best American Poetry 2006, and her book of poems, A Gringo Like Me, is available from Softskull Press.

Paul Hostovsky’s poems appear and disappear widely online and in print, with most recent sightings in Free Lunch, Shenandoah, Poet Lore, Paper Street, Alimentum, FRiGG, Slant, Off the Coast, Phantasmagoria, and Lilliput Review. He works in Boston as an interpreter for the deaf.

For twenty years Joe Oestreich has toured the country in a beat up Ford Econoline as the singer and bass player for the Columbus, Ohio-based rockband Watershed. He has intimate knowledge of the deep-fried truck stop, the wipe-hands-on-pants rest area, and the unholy mixture of beer and bleach and piss that is the eau de rock club. His essays are forthcoming in Esquire, Ninth Letter, and The Cimarron Review.

Wendy Wimmer's writing has appeared in Sassy, Pink and Abundance magazines, numerous literary journals and http://www.productanarchy.com/. She almost used the word "blogosphere" in this bio but managed to restrain herself. She lives in Wisconsin with a man and a cat.

See you there!

Doing Less with Less

At Slate, they have a retrospective on the most amazing and disappointing cultural events of the year. Stephen Dubner, co-author of Freakonomics--the manifesto of counterintuitive explanations (such as that legalized abortion in the 70s led to less crime in the 90s)--gets about as counterintuitive as is sanely possible by expressing his love for Studio 60 and decrying the fact that both elites and plebes have united in hating a hateworthy show.

Also, Wire creator David Simon decries the down-sizing of America's newspapers, claiming that it is impossible to "do more with less"; you can only "do less with less". Which makes sense, I guess, if indeed newspapers have always operated at optimal efficiency, and if you think that journalism is as noble a profession as its practitioners want you to think.

More Musings of a Genially Sadistic Dictator

A quick note of sorrow goes out to Saddam Hussein, one of the greats. That guy was the inspiration to me to write my book, and he also taught us all a hard lesson that you only piss off America once every 15 years or so, unless you are willing to wage an ultimately successful but mostly luxury-free counterinsurgency over a long period of time. On the bright side, his death moves me up a bit on the "Tyrants with the longest tenure" list -- D-Stun

573. On one side of my bed I have one those birds that sings, "coup coup" and on the other side of the bed an owl that goes "who who". Those two things have kept me alive long beyond my usefulness.

143. My question to you naïve Americans is, you talk about breaking the cycle of violence so much, but is not breaking something a violent action? And how else to break violence except for more violence? Did you not listen to Sean Connery's speech in the Untouchables, or watch him re-execute that dead man? Or were you too distracted by Kevin Costner's bad acting? I wish Sean Connery would have given him bad advice, like "Mention to DeNiro that if he was this fat in Raging Bull, the movie might not have sucked" so that Costner would die, and then Connery could take power himself. That's what I would have done.

21. When I was young my father brought me into the prison to watch our enemies be tortured. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, “My son, you torture a man to see what he is made of.” And I, being young and naïve, but terribly smart, replied: “Father, it only takes but one.” He nodded gravely. “Yes, but the rest are to see what you are made of.” My father’s eyes seared through me and then I knew I could never be him. That is why I kill them all quickly.

57. Consort #7 will never understand that your time spent with Consorts #1-6 just previous has drained you of your ability to pleasure her. Best to shut her away forever in order to preserve the legend of your amazing sexual prowess.

About the Author: General Commander Poobah Deek Stunner Raj, Holy Mother of God, Vice President of Player Development, Not Just President of the Return to Primitive Manhood Club But Also a Member, Mayor of Slayertown Population You, Chief Associate Regional Sales Executive, Celebrity with Brevity, Colonel of the Armed Forces and Sanitation Inspector, rules the little known East Asian country Dushbaj with a velvet fist and an iron glove