Michael Malice title

UPDATE: Phantom Girl is safe and secure at an undisclosed location. The cops went to arrest her assailant. They found him crying on the bed, and he proceeded to call one cop "nigger" and told the "spic to keep his hands off. I'm going to kill you all." The cops were more bewildered than offended. "We have guns; what are you going to do?"
"Shoot me, shoot me already. I want to die." There was no moment where I felt more certain of my Social Darwinism. Sadly the pussy cops did not take him up on his offer and merely arrested him.

Paging the Punisher; we have a pickup for you, Mr. Castle.

True Story

A radio show is talking about bestiality, just how gross it is and whether it needs to be illegal. Caller jumps in, "Well, a horse is a very noble animal. It's not disgusting to make love to a horse."
"Sir, are these male or female horses you make love to?"
Pause. "I'm not a fag."

Out in Williamsburg with The Great Punkin. The Malice Militia phone lights up; Phantom Girl is trouble! Can you help, Malice Militia? We accept our mission. Phantom Girl's roommate had revealed himself as a Nazi former hitman and had beaten a former roommate up in front of her. This caused some to call him a bully, but as we all know bullies are cowards and this man is simply goal-oriented.

He had come home very drunk two nights ago and proceeded to harass her in a Bad Way, threatening to kill her if she called the cops. She wanted the cops to come tell him to leave her alone and that she would move out in a month. This led the Militia members present to shake our heads. We took her to the cops and told her she is not spending another night in that house.

Then we proceeded to make light of the situation.

Most people do appreciate the cracking of jokes when their lives are falling apart, since it gives the semblence of some normalcy in chaos. (Weird, ain't it?) Our greatest hits:

"Thank you so much for coming, this really means a lot to me."
"Well, this is exactly how I wanted to spend my afternoon."

"This is so sweet of you."
"Don't worry, we'll bill you when things get back to normal. You had better pay; just how we made things good for you today, we can make it bad all over again."

"I think I'm going to throw up."
"Are you still talking about this? I'm bored."

"What am I going to do? Where am I going to stay?"
"Stop being such a drama queen. Enough about you already; when is it Malice time?" etc. etc.

Debate last night went very well. My poor opponent had never spoken in public before and was very nervous. I felt bad for the guy and we ended up just having fun, which is odd for me. I don't really hate unions, since they fuck over Morlocks anyway. "I don't know if you're all following me or if I'm making any sense, but I know this: if I were in a union, I couldn't get fired for it!" The pro-union motion passed 14-6, but (and perhaps this is sore loser talk) the voting is on the resolution and not the actual debate, which seems unfair to me. But who cares, when the head of club e-mails me to lie, "You were superb last night. Congratulations on an excellent presentation." I was also pulled aside after and told by a pro-Hillary Democrat that I was like Gore in the 2000 debates. He honestly couldn't tell my politics from my presentation which was, I think, a small personal victory--and weird.

Shame on Amy Sedaris, Stephen Colbert and Paul Dinello. Their Wigfield was absolutely hysterical when read aloud by them, but as a book much of it falls flat. An artist works within the confines of his medium, and doesn't try to override them. (cf. the first season of Strangers with Candy, out on DVD in two weeks.)

You know, I've learned a valuable lesson today. I've learned that if you work with people who you greatly admire, they are in some way going to deviate from your idealization of them and disappoint you. But you don't have the right to be disappointed, since they're people just like you, with their own hopes and dreams and visions of how things should be. So you're left trying to read between their lines and rendering yourself acutely anxiety-ridden, though you're the only one who puts so much stock in their opinion. And of course this is grossly obvious to everyone except the moron known as yours truly.

They say the creative process is like giving birth, and I think I've started hemorrhaging.

UPDATE: From a friend: "It's always hard when you are the creator. Because to the person evaluating the ms or whatever it's just their job (regardless of their passion for it) and to the writer, it's their blood. Nothing you can do about it now. Try to take up a relaxing hobby like knitting. No, never mind that, sharp implements involved. How about tropical fish? I understand that gazing at an aquarium is soothing. Oh never mind. Just work on the new book and go out to punk shows."
Done!

Kelly Clarkson covers Vacation (by my beloved Go-Go's) in her upcoming death penalty-justifying suckfest of a movie. I don't feel so hot...

Here we go: "The Jinx Athenaeum will meet again on Wednesday, June 4, 8pm, at Belly. Belly is a bar on the south side of Rivington Street, between Suffolk and Clinton. Nearby trains, the F, J, M, and Z, stop at Essex and Delancey streets. Please join us."

I will be arguing the anti-union position. I have never debated one on one in front of a crowd before, but I can confidently predict that my opponent will be so obliterated by my arguments that it will take 27 issues for the atoms of his body to reform and try to seek vengeance.

Getting a gun license in New York costs $244, which is more than the cost of the .22 Ruger Mark I gun I want. Decisions, decisions...

Brilliant.

HOW I SPENT MY SUMMER VACATION

A Photoessay
by Michael Malice

From ages 4 to 14 I spent my summers upstate with a group of Russian Jewish hooligans, with a Polack or two thrown in for good measure. DDE's mother recently purchased a bungalow colony there, and we headed up for a reunion. As we passed the sign that proclaimed "Welcome to Ulster Heighst", I could not help but wonder why we enjoyed summers without TV, radio, phones, heat, spelling, cell reception, and internet access.

The four of us demonstrate various symptoms of mental fucktardation (l-r): An enlarged tongue; laughing at inappropriate moments; lack of affect; everything else that would signify retardation.

We weren't the only nostaligc ones; the residents of Ellenville pined for the good ol' WWII days.

If you tie a plastic bag around her foot, Anna will do her impression of the number 7.

We used to walk (literal) miles to buy candy at this store.

While the rest of the group tries to get the car unstuck from the mud, I helpfully shot photons at it from my camera.

For some reason the steeple's cross withered and fell off when I walked by this old church.

Many a weekend was spent at the Grand Union and newsstand, but the economy in Ulster County is not what it was 12 years ago...

...as the local eateries could attest. (Not pictured: Hooverville)

Is this the most convincing warning sticker ever?

If we ever wanted to be faux rural, we turned off our sinks and pumped the pump or filled gallon bottles at the spring.

I mention these super-creepy woods in Sovereign. Sadly, DDE got cut from the novel.

The ground was always covered in spongy plants (and pre-plants).

The first time in many years I saw a live-for-only-a-day mayfly.

The name you trust in soy sauce is now the name you trust in soy sauce-flavored wine.

Weepin Willies' rating was a perfect 30 in the Morlock Zagat's.

The X is where Big Richie and I watched a 90 year old demented woman slip on the concrete. We looked at each other. "Wanna go play Nintendo?" he asked. He always knew what to do under pressure.

Charon confirms that yes, they do have casual Friday on the river Styx.

The bridge is pulled away, leaving us stuck on this tiny man-made island in this tiny man-made pond.

"Listen to our demands!"
"I already told you, I cannot give you the ability to read."

Makes you wonder how much of my urine is still in the water.

Agatha (2nd from left) decided to have an abortion purely on the merits of this photo. As an aside, we all hated that Red Umbrella. I can't believe it got invited!

Wednesday night yours truly will be debating the (de)merits of unions. Details to follow...