Sunday, August 28, 2005

Would You Like to Stay After Choir Practice and Commit Adultery With Me?

In my most extensive foray into Philanderer Bojangle 2005 Fest, I managed to land a choir teacher, of all things. It should be noted that there is an episode of Law and Order: SVU about incest with Jane Seymour, and the beginning of the show centers adulterous choir teacher. I dig SVU connections like the lupus. If there's anything we've learned from the beginnings of this experiment, it's that adulterers don't have to be harried businessmen with a briefcase full of condoms. Indeed, they can have jobs that put me in direct contact with them on a daily basis. It's a lovely thought.
This fellow messaged me under the name nyteach, which somehow convinced the Crazy Russian that she had had him as a teacher at some point, even though the odds roughly coincide with me getting impregnated by the electrocuted boy in Jurassic Park.

Oops. He has AIDS there. Sorry.
The message was rather boring, I'm not even going to repeat it. Some crappola about how we could have a good time, let me be inside you, blah blah blah. I'm such a pro at these hormonally charged overture.
However, I leave no stone unturned. I emailed the guy, and I got this in reply:
hi there,
interesting email address...anything i should know about you? :)
a little about me...
my name is daniel. i am a music teacher and choral conductor. married
about 8 yrs and have a son, age 3. i live on the upper west side.
im a very sexual being...leaving inhibitions at the door is something i
can do. i love pleasing the woman im with. it's a real turn on for me.
can you tell me a little about yourself?
would you like to exchange pictures?
I look forward to hearing from you.

A THREE-YEAR-OLD KID. Good GOD. This just gets seedier and seedier. It's like the time I went into CBGBs and saw the ducttaped toilet seat, and then i looked inside the toilet and there was a used condom floating in it.
Of course I wanted to exchange pictures, though, so for the umpteenth time in a week, Crazy Mego's visage traveled through cyberspace into the sweaty lap of a predator.
Within minutes, I got this:
My picture is 2-3 years old (it's the only one I have
online)and as you can see, I am kinda bald/balding on top. (Add two
more years of hair-thinning and you get the picture.)
The good news is that I am in very good shape (6ft 190lbs) and I work
out regularly at the gym...and I think I look pretty good! (always good to
have some self-confidence.)

I'm waiting for an email that says, "I don't work out. I have bitch tits that are bigger than yours."
As for my situation, I have been married 8 yrs. The marriage is pretty
good in most areas but sex is not one of them. For whatever reason, we dont
really have much of it anymore, and neither of us seem particulary
inclined to want to do it with the other. I dont know if it's routine or
boredom...I really want to find someone new who is also looking for some
satisfaction in that area.

WHAT! Am I the only one flummoxed here? Fucking hell, if your marriage is pretty good everywhere but in the bedroom, I'd get some goddamn counseling and not risk shit by trying to get in my universe pants. Pfft.

Did your profile say you are an interior designer?
that's funny because my wife and I just hired someone to help us
decorate our apartment, sowe are working with someone now to make our place look
all nice 'n spiffy...ok maybe that's not so funny, but it made me smile.
And here we are, a totally normal guy that looks like my father before he started being trendy and buzzing his head.

This could have ended there, but I decided to try something new: an AIM conversation. After a two-day hiatus (during which he sent me 20 emails asking if we broke up because adulterers are needier than sin), I gave him my Secret Adulterer Name, catorgasms. Like HELL I was giving him the weenie name. Literally, 90 seconds after I sent him my name, I get:
Hotmale Teach: hi...emily? it's daniel
I chortled through most of the hour we chatted. Here are the highlights:
CatOrgasms: where is your wife?
Hotmale Teach: she is watching tv in the next room
Hotmale Teach: so i cant type too loud :-)

That sent shivers down my spine, and I have sworn off marriage as a result.

Hotmale Teach: well youve done well on round 1 of my questions
Hotmale Teach: congratulations
CatOrgasms: whew.
Hotmale Teach: is there anything you want to ask me
CatOrgasms: how would i have failed the first round
Hotmale Teach: i dont really know
Hotmale Teach: maybe if you didnt seem real


Hotmale Teach: garden state.
Hotmale Teach: did you see that?
CatOrgasms: ah yes, i did
Hotmale Teach: i liked that
Hotmale Teach: did you?
CatOrgasms: i have a girl crush on natalie portman
Hotmale Teach: she is a hottie
Hotmale Teach: i was gonna say the same thing
Hotmale Teach: and A JEW :-)

Only I could turn a conversation with a cheating husband into a Natalie Portman fest. Fact.

CatOrgasms: is your wife also jewish?
Hotmale Teach: yes she is jewish too
Hotmale Teach: im kinda hardcore if you must know
Hotmale Teach: i kinda make natalie portman look protestant

Seeing as how she's fluent in Hebrew, has Israeli citizenship and just finished making an Israeli movie, I'm kind of inclined to doubt it, but I didn't push it.

I managed to make a suave exit, but not before:
Hotmale Teach: would it be ok for me to call you like on a cell?

Sick, sick, SICK. He makes Vincent Gallo look like JP II.

As an aside, Inna managed to scare her middle-aged adulterer away by telling him she had a rectal fetish. Only Inna could frighten a sexual deviant.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Rabbis Can Be Adulterers Too. (And Rabbis Looks Like Rabies.)

Our first non-Emma adulterer has been processed, and it's a doozy. It's from one of my close chums from Italy, who has requested that her name not be included in this because she's embarrassed and something like this could ruin her political career. Since my life is already in tatters, I have no problem with associating my name with the project. Emma = adultery experiment. Anyway, my friend decided to use the name "Simone," for reasons unbeknownst to me. I'd like to think it's because it was the name of Winona's last movie before she went apeshit, but I am not presumptuous enough to truly believe this.

What a badass movie, truly unappreciated in its time.
The adulterer I chose for Simone was the guy that sent me a message entitled "You've Got Male." It killed me. His screenname was eyes4ewe2, which impressed me because it reminded me of the secret chant that the sheep use in Babe. I used it as a campaign slogan in my ill-fated Student Council run back in the day, and it may have been a tactical misjudgement.
He wrote:
Hello! I'm a 42 y.o. MWJM living and working in NYC. I'm honest, sincere, funny, and sweet. A business Ph.D., I'm 5'10", 150, brown/hazel, olive complexion. Romantically, I'm affectionate (love kissing), passionate, adaptive, and attentive. Want to correspond? Drop me a line!
My friend, being from the land of Kunie-Pie aka NonGenital Gandhi, felt the olive complexion somehow meant that he was Indian. I would associate an olive color with nicotine-stained teeth, but maybe that's just me.
Also, NO, YOU ARE NOT HONEST. What kind of clittoral cheese-eating fuckstick would write on an ADULTERY Web site that they're honest??? You cheat on your wife! Give it up.

If you'll recall, I allowed all of my friends tremendous leeway in regards to their story pitch. Perhaps I should not have done that:

Well Marc-

Thanks for responding so quickly. I have been rather busy with certain obligations these past few days. I apologize for the delay. It warms my heart that you are so eager to intiate a correspondance. Well, playing on the football team and publishing are rather impressive. Where have you traveled? Where would you like to travel? I, myself, have been all around the world and traveling is one of my favorite past times as well. My father was a member of the foreign service. Thus, I grew up in places such as Cairo, Hong Kong, and Sydney. I spent the last two years of my high school in Geneva and then came back to the United States to go to university. I was able to finish my schooling, with a BA in business pyschology from Duke. However, that is where my life erupted. I met a handsome man at the Tribeca Grand while in New York visiting family shortly after graduation. He swept me off my feet and we got married in a mere span of 2 months. There is nothing he deprived me of and still does not, except for you know what I mean.....Regardless, I am lonely and live alone most of the time. He is often away on "business" and too busy for me. All he cares about is his family business. I do not even have the liberty of working since he is rather traditional and looks down upon that. I am wondering what has brought you to this site? What is your story? What type of humour do you have? I would also like to see a picture. Please write back at your convience. Ciao ciao
I love this. Both the B.A. at Duke and the Tribeca Grand comments killed me. It's practically ripped out of a Jackie Collins novel, and yet Marc was not dissuaded:

Hi, Simone! As requested, attached is my pic-- hope you like it. Do you have one yourself?

I have travelled most of the east and west coast, the southwest, Alaska, Hawaii, Puerto Rico, Bahamas, and France. I would like to visit more of Europe. Regarding humor, I wrote for my college humor magazine and had a stint as a stand up while in college and continue to have a quick wit, knowing a joke on practically every subject. The reason I am at the site/ my story is that my wife has a medical condition that precludes us from being intimate often.

What else would you like to know about me?


Did I NOT call the sick wife theory?? I RULE. Also, who says they know a joke on every subject? That's even sicker than adultery. I know lots of Helen Keller and dead baby jokes, but I certainly couldn't tell you a joke about...a tree. Actually, I probably could, but it wouldn't be very good slash funny.

I have a picture of Marc, but I went on paint and got a little nutty. He gives off a rabbi vibe like the wolf.

Hah, I put an E on his forehead. For Emma. I was going to put an A, but I thought that would be too pretentious/cliche. Pearl Prynne <3.
Keep the adulterers coming in, I know Malsta's is going to be great. I won't spoil what I already know about this.

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

OMG He's Not Hot Anymore.



Say what you will about the man's politics, but he clearly doesn't spend ALL of his time at the ranch banging Laura.

Our First Philanderer!

As several of my close comrades know, the episode has morphed into a groundbreaking sociological experiment involving multiple participants, and one Crazy Mego. The plan is simple. I have created this profile:
Nickname: BornToRide
City: New York
State/Province: New York
Country: United States
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Ethnicity: Caucasian (white)
Religion: None/Agnostic
Language: English
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Blue
Body Type: Athletic
Height: 5'8"(173cm)
Relationship Type Seeking: Sexual Encounters
Marital Status: Married
Wassup Down There?: Always Shaved
What I'm Looking For: Someone willing to leave his inhibitions at the door. I need someone intelligient and confident who will seduce me on the first date.
Interests: rock climbing, backgammon, water sports, long passionate nights, fast cars, high rollers, illicit affairs

Now, if a 45-year-old unhappily married man doesn't bite at the young, athletic, bald pussy thing, I know not how to rope in desperate old people. However, responses have not been a problem, my inbox was full within a few hours. I have given each of my loyal friends who have questionable morals an adulterer to converse with. Crazy Mego, being...Crazy Mego, has agreed to go out on a date with one "if they're hot." Our mission is threefold: we want to have a consistent dialogue with these people, that is coherent and intelligient. It does no one any good to exchange emails going 'I want your cock in my hole, blah blah blah!' Believe it or not, we are rising above that. Lastly, we're trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with these people. Clearly, this experiment is flawed in multiple ways. It's the Internet, anything goes. And we're not qualified psychologists. We're assuming EVERYTHING.

My first adulterer experiment is named "Lester." I doubt this is his real name, as the pictures he sent me were under the file name "Phil," but lets just assume it's legit. I'm not going to post his face, because there's probably some sort of law I'm breaking by doing that, so don't think I got all moral, I just like bending over to pick up my shower soap in peace.
This is Lester:

If there's anyone from high school that reads this, his face basically looks like Jen Eannucci's dad if he was black and an adulterer.
Anyway, Lester originally wrote me under the name "BXCHICO", saying
Just to say hello. I don't know if I fit the bill, but I am inviting you to look at my ad.
According to his profile, Lester is 46, lives in the Bronx and is Catholic. Oh yeah, and he's married.
So I wrote him an email:
Hey Les,
I'm glad you wrote me back so quickly, at least it
shows you're a little interested. I guess I should
give you a little background on my own situation. I
know that if I were you and got involved with a random
person from the Internet, I wouldn't want to end up
with some wacko with huge emotional problems. I got
married to my boyfriend from high school, which was
probably a mistake. I think I did it because it was
convenient more than anything else, but when the dust
settled, I was with someone incapable of being mature
who didn't care about anyone but himself. I certainly
don't need to know the intimate details of your life,
but what was the broad reason that you decided to take
this kind of action? Hope to hear from you soon.

God, I am such a bitch. I should mention that all of my loyal participants can make up whatever story they want, as long as its remotely plausible.
Lester wrote back with this:

Hey Emily,
Thanks for letting me know that you aren't a "Psycho". Lord knows I deal with enough psychopathology in my job. I'm actually a Psychiatric Nurse that works with a patient population that have major psychiatric disorders as well as addictions to drugs, alcohol, or prescription medications. But that's another conversation.
To answer your question regarding the reason that I've chosen this course of action is alittle more complicated. My wife is significantly older than I am. She's 14 years older to be precise (she'll be 61 in December). She was always full energy and looked younger than her age. Even with all of that I always had a stronger libido than she did. If we made love and I asked if she were ready to go again she would laugh at me or ask me if I were crazy. Several years ago my wife became ill and while she has recovered from her illness she has never been the same energy-wise. The loss of energy and stamina from the illness coupled with the fact that she has been unfortunate enough to experience most of the worst symptoms associated with menopause (hot flashes, depression, decreased self-esteem, hair loss, decreased libido) has done nothing to enhance our sex life. Being the type of person that I am I would never place sexual demands upon her. So, I love my wife, but as the kids say, "I'm not feelin'" my sex-life. I have alot of energy and alot of affection to share. Consequently, I would like to find someone with whom I can be discreetly intimate. I don't want to ever hurt my wife or my family. I hope that you can understand where I'm coming from.

I found this email intriguing on a number of levels. First, I was mildly impressed that I got anything literate in return. I was expecting some sex dream involving a chastity belt and a dog named Lulu. Secondly, the story behind his being on the site is inherently sympathetic, which actually doesn't surprise me that much. Going under the assumption that it's true, it's almost understandable that he would be looking for 24-year-old poon. Was any of it true? Damned if I know. I'm going to be very interested to see what other people get in their responses. The sick old wife story is a good one, and I suspect it will come up multiple times. If anyone wants to participate in our adultery study, let me know. I have adulterers galore.

Saturday, August 20, 2005

Online Adultery: Exposed

The staff of Weenie Enema (i.e. me) is in the midst of an earthshattering investigative report concerning the Web site Yes, there really is an online dating service for horny married people seeking extramarital affairs. Clearly, I had to do some careful research on this, so I've gone undercover to try and comprehend the inner workings of deranged cheating creepy people. This was part of the email I received a few minutes ago:

Thank you for joining Private Affairs. Your discretion and satisfaction
is our top priority. Many of our female clients become a little nervous after
placing their ad, especially if they've never done this before. Second thoughts
are natural when undertaking the search for a lover. We strongly suggest
that you consider keeping your profile online for a minimum of 3 weeks.
You'll never know what opportunities you've missed if you don't give it a

Tell me that is not mouthdropping slash disgusting. There are literally people being paid (or are taking up a hell of a lot of their own time and energy) trying to coerce people into cheating on their spouses.

Our not clearly defined. Annie Carlton is going to be on this site, will undoubtedly get hit on by numerous horny gentlemen since she disclosed that she shaves and enjoys the cock, and will pry into the souls of each man. Now, as a veteran of fucking with horny guys in chatrooms, I'm aware that there is a ceiling for such manipulation. I'm obviously not going to have a steamy love affair with a dirty online married man, though the people looking for cyber affairs are so amusing that I almost feel obligated to indulge them. However, wouldn't it be more fun if I, say, got someone to meet with these men in person and have the said affair? Someone with no moral integrity, common sense or decency? A voicemail was left with Crazy Mego, so we will see how that part of the plan unfolds. If anyone would like to have an affair with a married man on, you should contact me. I promise I will select someone reasonably attractive. That is all.
Married Men I Would Sleep With:

If you say Arnold Schwarzenegger's name around Devra, she will swivel around and yell 'TUMAH!' That...really had nothing to do with anything.

Come on, Georgia O'Keefe cow skull, I'll take you on. Cunt.

Mother of God. How hot is that? I can't hate on Reese though. Her name is like Reeses.

Hell, I would do both of them.

I need to stop or I'll have to do laundry a second time this week. Ew, that even grossed ME out.

Friday, August 19, 2005

If I Had A Million Dollars I Would Buy Prescription Meds from Eminem and Use Them to Drug Bruce Springsteen and Have My Way With Him.

We are sad to report that Eminem has entered drug rehab. In other news, the world is round and I tried to steal seven puggies today. I will NEVER understand why its considered newsworthy when a rapper or Mariah is treated for a drug dependency. Do people not read their lyrics? These artists are releasing singles with names like "I Passed Out in an Opium Den Last Night and Woke Up to Find A Homeless Man's Toothless Mouth On Me...Down There," and yet it's breaking news when it turns out that the songs have a grain of truth to them. I don't like ragging on my BFF, but Winona's best performance was a clinically depressed borderline personality-inflicted nutjob for a reason.

Dear Eminem, you are not black. I'm missing skin pigments and I'm blacker than you.

There are two pieces of huge news to report. The first is that I just successfully downloaded the ringtone for "Dancing in the Dark," and I plan on turning the lights off and bopping around to it because I'm amazing. The second is actually legitimate news that I have only been able to find in the NY Post.
A posh eatery in New Jersey thought it would be fun to write "Jew Couple" on the bill of...a Jewish couple. This story had me baffled for several reasons. One, this wasn't like some deranged waiter took a pen and quickly scribbled that down on the receipt before handing it to the couple, it was actually an official way for the restuarant to identify them on the bill. Secondly, did the restaurant not think the people were going to LOOK at their bill? I have been to dinner with some really wacked out people, but all of them have looked at their bill to see if they got overcharged for their burger. I'm still trying to figure out why you would even bother putting that on there. It really serves no legitimate purpose. The only thing that makes even vague sense is if the server was trying to warn...themselves that these people might not tip as much as other people? Clearly, I am going to have to visit this place and check the scene out. Who wants to go?
As if that wasn't crazy enough, a woman came forward yesterday with her own receipt that she had kept for a year that referred to her as "Dirty Joanne" on it. That's not even much of an insult, but maybe it just depends on who you direct it at. If I got a bill and it said something like "Smelly Emma," I would laugh, because I obviously smell amazing, and the server would get a $0.15 tip. There are ways to combat such things. Hell, I might even tip them a little extra for reminding me of several playground brawls back in the early 90s. All of which I won.

Time for a Sex God Photo Montage:

I heart Brucie.

I just made a mess down there.

Ah, lest we forget that I saw cinematic greatness in the form of a man cradling bear shit last night, cooing, "This came from a bear butt!" If anyone is familiar with the inner workings of one Devra Bogangles, I don't think I even have to tell you how much she enjoyed that moment. Grizzly Man should not be seen without your teddy bear. Not...that I brought Big Bear to the Angelika...Um. Yeah. OOh look! 50 Cent just got shot again!

Thursday, August 18, 2005

Flabby Pooper-Lover Bands: Exposed.

As often happens with people diagnosed with faux ADD, I deserted my blog several weeks ago to do more important things, like move to a non-NYU neighborhood, stalk Robert Sean Leonard and orgasm on the street at the gorgeous chocolate puggies that have started to take over the world. These are all good things, but a COMPLETE stranger messaged me last night and complained that I haven't updated, so clearly my Word is spreading and it's only fair that I get back into the game since August is such a slow news month and all.
My chum/co-conspirator/badass partner in transcribing crime inadvertantly got my wheels spinning this week over a topic that was LITERALLY everywhere but no one wanted to say anything because it was clearly one of those awkward, neck-rubbing situations. Of course, I am referring to the Age of the Boy Band, a period of time that roughly began in the summer of 1998 and died when Avril, of all people, showed the world that you can play an instrument and write a song - all by yourself! I would also argue that if Britney hadn't gotten knocked up by trailer trash, she would still be right up there, but she was more of a boy band whore than a prototype of the era. I digress.
I have several photos for close study. Gaze at each one carefully.
The first one is the only exception to my theory, but it's not entirely a loss.

This is, of course, the Backstreet Boys, the group that started the inanity. Which might not be a word. Shrug. Look at the pectorals for as long as you need to. Based on Mr. Carter's straw mop top, I would put that around the release of either, "Quit Playing Game With My Heart" or "As Long As You Love Me." Before anyone starts pointing the finger at me, these were ALL on the fucking radio and I was still losing to mainstream shit at the time, so don't you dare attack me on this one. I will roast you.

The next band is an important one:

This is NSync back when they all looked like they were seven and the victims of a child pornographer. Notice that only two of the boys have tanktops on - the ones with defineable muscle, Justin and JC. It's also not a coincidence that these were the two that went on to forge solo careers of some sort. Don't give me that shit about Joey Fat One and his Rent debut. Big deal, it says nothing about his physique. That morbidly obese thing that got thrown off of American Idol was on that too.
However, it is VERY difficult to find a picture of Chris Kirkpatrick with his shirt off. Why? Because he's the gay flabby one. All of these bands are meticulously cultivated to give girls a wide variety of options in case 80% of the group doesn't turn on the prepubescent vaginal juices. What they don't tell you is that the people that create these bands are fully aware of the fact that teenage boys still in the closet love boy bands too, so they stick a fey one in there to shake shit up. The Backstreet Boys' example would be A.J. He's not flabby, probably because they were the first boy band and were still working out the kinks. When he starts fucking with his facial hair, that's basically the equivalent of growing a set of bitch tits. So if you're counting, we have unmasked Chris and A.J. On to the next one.

What's this? 8-pack, 8-pack, 8-pack, Justin? 98 Degrees is probably the most obvious example, the gay one with the bleached hair and goatee is so blatantly not as fit as the other three that it's just painful to watch. Think about it. Did you ever know a girl that had a crush on him? Unlikely. I knew a wench in high school that had a crush on Chris Kirkpatrick, but she was also in love with this:

He looks like a Romulan crossed with a dog. An ugly dog.
Last one.
Which one is the girl?

Trick question. It's the only all-girl boy band to ostensibly fool the world. Even my father bought the single "MMMbop" (back when they sold singles) because he thought "the girls on the cover were hot). Ew. Every girl I know that had a crush on Taylor ended up being a lesbian. How pathetically obvious.

"I heart Hanson!"
I have just been informed that I will be attending the showing of the best movie of the year, Grizzly Man, tonight. Anything with bear maulings has to be right up there with Skippy Peanut Butter and Arnold Schwarzenegger's circumcised penis. Haha, I jest. Austrians don't cut off the foreskin.