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by Brent Kellogg
Brent's morning
coffee courtesy of Speeder &
Earls, Burlington, VT.
July 30, 2008
Red alert! I've been thinking again. I'm thinking
about Amber Moore and Daniel Romalotti and
regurgitating large chunks of green bile. Why would
this woman, and I use the term loosely, consider
having sex with porn boy "making love"?
What is it exactly that they made? A mess on her
bed? Is having sex like making dinner? Is there
anything to show for it? Don't slap me for
suggesting Amber might get pregnant, Daniel doesn't
have the sperm for it. If anything comes out of his
weenie it's probably android blood. So scummy is
this boy, after doing Amber the night before the
next day he was telling her it was good, but gosh
dang it, he can't get images of Amber doing the
Professor out of his pointed head.
Sick bastard doesn't think that perhaps she has
images of him doing Lily Winters and gratifying
himself in front of some computer, it's poor Daniel
the injured party so distraught he had to tell
step-daddy Nick Newman about the Professor while
Nick was grieving the loss of his daddy's baby. And
who summoned Daniel to the God Have Mercy Medical
Center? Why was he so surprised when someone called
to tell him about the "accident" that's been all
over the news? Was his empty head so muddled he
forgot that mother Phyllis called and came knocking
on his door to tell him step-granny Nikki Chow had
been admitted and for him to get his ass over there?
Plus, of what good was this self-centered freak
moaning and groaning about his personal problem
during a family crisis? Not more than an hour later,
while it was supposed to be first thing in the
morning, Daniel returned to the penthouse to tell
Amber he'd been thinking all day that it would be
best if they go back to being just friends.
Please don't blame me for suggesting Amber get
pregnant. It was Chloe Mitchell. If Amber really,
really wants Daniel, Chloe put the idea in her head
that she could accidentally on purpose get pregnant.
Much as we can't stand the crazy bitch, you gotta
admit one thing: Chloe knows how to push Lily's
buttons. Showing her the sonogram/ultrasound was
priceless. Cutting a slice of birthday cake for
"Cane Junior" would have been better. Had Lily been
on the edge of a cliff at the time - and gone over it
-
would have been better yet. After all, you know how
Lily likes to say she's so much like her mother.
Are you still reeling from the fact that after
having his vasectomy reversed Victor Newman ran to
tell Katherine Chancellor? Based on what a friend
once told me once, I'm not understanding this. After
my friend got snipped he couldn't wait to tell me
that he was "shooting blanks", but he wasn't about
to tell his mother, or any woman, for fear the
ladies might see him as less manly. He was, like
Victor, an older man with grown children and didn't
want more children. He wanted to have "natural" sex
and that was his reasoning for tell me. Bragging
rights of sorts, his male friends were supposed to
feel inferior because they still used birth control.
Speaking of Victor, why is the old fart willing to
spend his entire fortune to keep the little wife alive? Is
Sabrina worth that much? For as often as Victor has
had to call in the best medical experts in the
country to save someone, should he have built a
hospital by now where only the best care anywhere is
available? Why has he given money to the God Have
Mercy Medical Center when it's not much better than
a "backwater clinic"? And why, whenever the rich and
powerful can't get what they want, do they throw up
the I donated money to this dump rhetoric?
What man in his right might would think that taking
his near-death wife home would improve her chances
of living? Unless Victor has a private hospital on
the Ponderosa, Sabrina's chances of survival are
slim and none. She has a "lacerated liver". Even
Victor should know she's done for, so stick a fork
in her and let's get on with the Blame Olympics.
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