CAUTION:  My girl, Carol, speaks her mind in a strong, brassy and vibrant fashion.  If you are offended by straight talking, adult oriented language (sometimes, there's a "very" in there), please be aware that you may well find it here.  Carol shoots from the hip and tells it like it is, pulling no punches and taking no prisoners.  That's why I love her & why I hired her.  If it's not your bag, let's part still friends and salute our differences in tastes (I'm sort of a strong strawberry flavor...)  ~*~Katrina~*~


Misogyny as Entertainment 

Thank Christ I was out of town during “the incident” with the pregnant lady and the abusive ex-flame. Just when GH goes where no decent, normal human being would go, they go lower, forgetting it’s daytime not pay-per-view ‘round midnight. 

I had to make a post and read the replies over at’s GH board [and a private one] to remind myself that the explicit violence didn’t start on the week of June 7th, into June 14th, when Nico came to town, shot at Sonny and pummeled a pregnant Sam with his fists, landing them both in the hospital fighting for their lives – and it won’t be the last. 

These astute fans wrote of previous crimes to their daytime sensibilities: Carly getting shot in the head as she lay giving birth, by her own husband, a mob boss; Sonny getting pissed off at Ned and beating him senseless; Sonny hurling Ric down a flight of stairs; Lorenzo’s thugs working Sonny over until he’s a bloody heap, then working over Nikolas because of a lapsed IOU. 

On PC, where Kelly Monaco (Sam) had portrayed vampire slut Livvie, frequently covered in blood and wearing skin-tight or flimsy, see-through negligee type outfits, there was plenty of inappropriate sexualized gore, used as a symbolism of lust, power and sensuality, as a post-9/11 produced the supernatural addition of creatures of the night who attacked with fangs, sucked blood like Kool-Aid for nourishment and as foreplay. (This, supposedly, aimed at the prized 13-year-old demographic, no less.) 

Fans familiar with GH executive producer Jill Farren Phelps’ previous works remember her hand in OLTL’s Todd punching Tea in the face pointblank—an out-of-character act reportedly disapproved of by then-portrayer Roger Howarth—and AW’s Frankie Frame begging for her life, in vain, for an entire episode, with a brutal, gruesome result. 

And the anti-Sonny people simply chalked up the move as yet another way to obfuscate and distract from the constant emotional and physical violence inflicted upon by the dysfunctional, pint-sized mobster who epitomizes hypocrite on every level ... by throwing socio-path Nico in their faces. It’s not lost on me that Sonny’s portrayer, Maurice Benard, used to play a character named Nico on AMC. If that’s intentional, Guza & Pratt are some sick SOBs. 

Actually, from what I did see – the one punch to the face as Sam tried to get away from Nico – it wasn’t that bad, rather bad enough, unless the worse happens this week. 

If this weren’t a soap opera in daytime hours with little children (and now school-aged, with summer vacation) running about, and on HBO after midnight, I might not have much of a problem. 

That this smacks of yet another maneuver by TPTB to ingratiate a failed female character (that’d be Sam) into the unwilling hearts of fed-up fans and force a relative newcomer into the position of leading lady really puts the problem over the edge into cancellation-worthy. 

The same writing team that brought us breast cancer as a way to pick up studs, a life of crime as a way to pick up chicks and innocent children as convenient tools for reinvigorating a love-sick marriage has now decided to use domestic violence as a last-ditch effort to save a beautiful woman with Play-Doh for brains, boring as hell, and repetitiously irritating in her inability to stick to a decision, despite everybody around her doing everything possible to please her (are you sure this ain’t Brenda, II?). 

Great. Don’t be surprised if, in two months’ time, Sam is gang-raped in an alley by Faith and her goons next. 


I just got through reading Soap Opera Digest’s “Loving ‘Em To Death,” a June 22nd article by Jennifer Lenhart detailing the problems that occur in management when fan bases grow in popularity and hence, power. 

Most of the anonymous sources wish those fan bases would ease up on their explicit, detailed storyline and pairing demands, because quite often – as in the case of AMC’s Ryan and Gillian – they wind up destroying that which they treasure most: the continued, frontburner love story of their two favorite characters. 

I believe this very much to be the case, as I’ve always contended that the real reason Cady McClain left her role as Dixie was a yearning to cheat outside of Tad. She would’ve probably stuck around another five years had TPTB not felt an inkling to kowtow to the Dixie & Tad 4-Ever or death will occur to Vincent Irizarry’s David fan base. The sick, sad result of which is... many members of this fan base continue to remain blissfully unaware of their potently vile offense. 

Like anything else in life, moderation is the key. It’s nice when fans get a say; after all, the fans are who bring in ratings, corporate sponsorships, the paychecks, they should be given equal opportunity to cry foul or bravo when warranted. But when fans organize into a fan base for other than enjoying their favorites, their role becomes dangerously close to that of TPTB. And unfortunately, there can only be one set of those. 

I disagree with Michael Bruno, talent manager to many of the soap stars, who was quoted in the article frequently, when he asserted that when couples stay together, they might as well look in the unemployment section of the newspaper, because they won’t be doing anything interesting on-screen anymore, that nobody wants to see happily ever after on a soap, that soaps inherently must involve constant reshuffling of partners to remain vital. Luke and Laura stayed together for longer than most real-life Hollywood couples, and they’ve been mostly interesting, fighting the bad guys, fighting each other. 

Take OLTL’s Todd and Blair. Instead of breaking and making up over and over again until they’re threatened with extinction due to the repetitious factor, why not give them a common cause (as they’re now doing with wacko Margaret) to team up and battle for? Dorian and David, together, scheming for the Santi’s millions, makes more of a soap story than a third party interloper and another stacked triangle cliché. 

Fan-based power has gotten so out of hand that the ongoing rumor has TPTB putting the kibosh on any influence from that end whatsoever, as well as a tight lid on spoiler leaks and backstage dish. If that means they go back to storytelling, I’m all for it. 

In general, as a rule and on principle, I steer clear of fan bases, fan clubs and any organized gathering that reeks high-school girlish clique. I’ve tried the S&Believers, the J&B Angels, lurked on several celeb tribute sites, fought publicly with the Amber Tamblyn gang and pissed off more than a few PEARLs. 

Doesn’t mean I hate ‘em. Doesn’t mean I condemn ‘em.

Doesn’t mean I’m a joiner, either. 

When some of ‘em go bad, stuffing ballot boxes, littering the ‘Net with promotional PR campaigns—relevant or not, infiltrating people’s e-mail boxes, sending SPAM (and worse), shutting down rival sites... they defame the general idea of fan support and worsen the already-hurting psycho fanatic soap rep. They also help contribute to the downfall of soaps themselves and threaten job security with their demands for increased airtime, specific partners. 

When fan bases and fan clubs do good, contributing to actors’ causes, raising money, toys, baby clothes, etc. for causes in actors’ names, saving good actors from pink slips (Nathaniel Marston/ex-Al, Michael on OLTL, for example), keeping viability in soaps alive for the rest of the world ... there’s no stopping them. 

I just wish they’d all always keep in mind what’s most important. A big hint: It’s not your fave. 


Maurice Benard. Post-Emmys. Soap Opera Network. 

<dramatic pause> 

Is the man so far gone with his own ego that he no longer cares what people think anymore? 

Demanding a manic-depressive storyline, or else?

Telling fans on a message board to kiss his rear-end?

Admitting he helped fire a – in his opinion – substandard actress? 

In May, Tony Geary (Luke) told the press, shortly before returning to his European vacation, that Benard is now carrying the show, the way he had in the ‘80s, that it was difficult, and hat’s off. Fine and well, but I guess Mr. One-Time Emmy forgot the enormous responsibility of carrying a show as big and popular as GH. 

For an actor who prides himself on being such a role model to fellow manic-depressives everywhere, and he is, he sure needs a self-help lesson on conduct before the public, when the cameras go off. 

You don’t cop to less-than-admirable traits. You don’t couch such admissions under any guise of self-righteous rationalization – for the purity of acting?! Hah!. And you certainly don’t hold your bosses hostage through the media and the fans, to heck with the rest of your co-stars. 

Mr. Benard remembers the rest of his co-stars, doesn’t he? The 3/4ths who’ve preceded him and laid the foundation upon which he continues to bleat and blather on about going deep, intense and real, the veterans who used to command the stage and are now relegated to the role of passers-by or furniture. 

Look at Leslie Charleson (Monica), whose character used to cheat on her husband, threaten any comers, survive breast cancer... all she does lately is walk across the screen muttering an insult at Tracy. Nobody knows why she’s at the Cellar, the courthouse, passing in the park. She’s just there, so the long-time GH fans won’t be too disappointed and disoriented at this strange new show in the time slot that used to be their favorite soap. 

All Benard seems to care about is what happens to him and his character, how he and his character are challenged and displayed in as provocative and Emmy-award-winning a manner as possible. I don’t think he even watches anybody else. I know his buddy and co-star pet Steve Burton (Jason) doesn’t. They’re too busy soaking up the spotlight for themselves. 

Here’s hoping his bosses take the hint, put the kibosh on actor demands as well, spread the wealth evenly amongst the rest of the cast, and bake a nice big sweet going-away cake come December for Maurice Benard and his godforsaken Sonny. 


Erica’s done with Desiree, Vegas and showgirl outfits. Thank God. I’ve a feeling portrayer Susan Lucci is right on the money when she revealed to the soap press that upcoming scenes (this and next week) promise emotional payback. After seeing her slumming it as an excuse to show off her pipes, stems and wattage, it’s about time. Also about time, Erica acknowledging how much of a disappointment she is to Bianca, with a frail, shamed little shrug, and judgmental Bianca unable to shake or stir her into the usual maternal Bianca-centered devotion. This should be good, Emmy good. 

The intervention of Erica is, as far as I’m concerned, the only story on right now worth watching, with maybe the exception of Zach’s influence in Maria’s life and Edmund’s burgeoning murder mystery. Why? Because the rest of it is just another meager means to excuse the inexcusable Krystal and Babe. 

I love David to death. But he might as well have fathered the Son of Sam, for all I care anymore. No amount of hand-wringing, tears welling and trailer trash referring will change the fact that Krystal and Babe should’ve returned “Bess” back to Bianca the second they knew she wasn’t theirs. I put their heinous selfish act just a level below that of rapists and murderers. 

Let’s take a drink every time Krystal takes off her shirt to show off her knockers. 


I’m up on all the spoilers. Part of the job. I’d rather not. And yet, even I missed the one about Adriana giving it up to River in the cabana the other week. What a pleasant surprise. Usually it’s the virgin who misses out on being deflowered by her one, true love, to a bad girl. Nice twist for bad girl Shannon to be on the receiving end of the usual virginal treatment. Almost makes up for the Jessica/Cristian fiasco. 

As an OT aside, I’d rather look like full-bodied Adriana. But I talk like Shannon, with the side of the mouth thing. Le horreur

A drunk Marcie, is a fun, entertaining Marcie. Her maniacal laughter at the thought of Antonio in gyrating undress with Jess right there, none the wiser, and Jen barely able to contain her own smirk, had me enchanted. 

About as much fun and entertainment as watching Nora and Evangeline back and forth over junk food. The latest, at Rodi’s, had Evangeline almost casually including the part about kissing John along with her laundry list of murder concerns. I could get behind two emotionally repressed, intense control freaks if it weren’t at the cost to yet another meaty storyline featuring R.J. and ... 

What the heck happened to Jolie? John and Natalie, I must admit, are hot together, a blend of caustic and electric, his dark skin, her bulging Wonder bra. They’re supposed to run into a few obstacles, but I thought they were a go. Is this just another obstacle, him suddenly developing a lust for Evangeline, fulfilled, her rebounding with Paul in a consummated engagement this week? Or something more sinister? 

Should I expect Viki and Asa to suddenly hit the sheets over coffee then? Give a girl some foreplay here. 

John’s Michael Easton, not one to go to the press for anything, contributed his comments recently on the Michael Easton Corner, a tribute site he frequents – mentioned in the latest SOD – defending Kathy Tong (ex-Kathryn), with whom he forged a friendship after she was cast, asking fans to ease up on the criticisms of the newcomers and actually praising her hard work on the set. Does hard work equal sucky-porno acting? 

Is Kathryn better than Natalie? Is Evangeline? Is anybody breathing with a hole better to him? What gives? 

And, regarding the slow burn of a possible Bo-and-Nora reunion... there’s slow burn and non-existent lead-up. I hardly see these two. They weren’t shown practicing their dance steps or winning the dance contest in New York. Bo wasn’t shown going from apathy and friendly interest, not to mention tacit approval, in Nora and Daniel... to the beginnings of jealousy, at all. Bo was interested in John and MIchael’s mom, what’s her name, Eve?, but she hasn’t been seen since the Music Box Killer was killed. This is a problem. The writers can’t just pick up where they never left off without some explanations. Foreplay, people, foreplay. 

But it’s like they can’t be bothered explaining anything, much less making common sense of Plot A to Plot B. There are a billion holes in the latest caper of Antonio’s and John’s, but I’m too tired to delve into it further. 

A man must be in charge of ABC Daytime, right? 


The resident idiots in charge at this #3-rated soap would know about nonsense and the inexplicable. 

I hear nothing about Justus. Then, all of a sudden, he’s chatting up that lady lawyer—the only one who isn’t Alexis—and kissing her in front of the Qs to prove a point. What, I don’t know. Over in the corner from them at the Cellar are Mac and Felicia, fulfilling a tiny, misleading spoiler mentioning them discussing the status of their relationship. But they didn’t discuss much of anything. That would take away from the mobster and his people. What Mac’s doing at a known hang-out of mobsters and molls, I don’t know. 

If they’d stop making Sam so indecisive at Sonny and Jason’s expense, maybe she’d stand half a chance. Maybe not, but it doesn’t help her cause any when she insists on a full-blown church wedding, then 10 minutes into it balks and backs out. Seems she’s always backing out of situations she weaseled into, then taking most of the show to apologize, stroke egos and bemoan her loveless childhood. I’ll take 10 of Tracy’s hidden agendas to Sam’s open book any day of the week. 

Carly, under Tamara Braun, used to be the one character I couldn’t stand to the point where I had to leave the room or FF quickly, or I’d have to punch a wall, scream into a pillow, or throw up on myself in revulsion. Now it’s Emily, under Natalia Livingston. 

Her ticks, the nodding, the nervous laughter, the fake smiles, the fake concern for anything other than Nikolas. Her expressions, or non-, constipation, furrowed eyebrows belying an urge to pout, frown and throw a tantrum. Her all-consuming, co-dependent obsession about Nikolas. Her selfish, self-centered Nik view, placing his family members at risk. Her psycho tendency to use violence to get her mixed messages across. Everything and anything, I see her loping along and I want to run in the opposite direction screaming. 

I cannot fathom what about her attracted Nikolas, and now Lucky. She doesn’t have the jugs of a Sam, the butt cheeks of a Felicia, the kewpie-doll lips of a Faith, the rapier wit of an Alexis, the kung fu action figure million dollar smile of a Courtney, the liquid romantic of an Elizabeth, the wind-swept yearning of a Mary, the scathing verbal assaults of a Tracy or a Monica... She uses too much lip gloss. She dresses like a Salvation Army reject. The camera closes in on her puckering lip smacking too much for my liking. 

She keeps the aliveness of Nikolas a secret from Lucky, refuses to let Alexis tell Helena, even at risk to Nik’s own security. When told that Nik does not suffer from brain damage, brain damage that Jason had, she still keeps the secret, from Nik himself. 

She uses people, people she’s supposed to love, in order to derive information to help her gain closer access to Nik. She pretends to be interested and concerned about how Courtney’s foundation party went with Alan, or Skye’s murder sentencing, when it’s clear as day to me that all she’s really concerned about is keeping up good girl appearances until she can get in Nik’s bulging pants again. 

Goodness, is she that desperate for a hunk that she’ll so readily abdicate whatever’s left of her personality to disappear into his? Does she not see or care that Lucky, Lulu, Alexis need their Nikolas back, it’s not about her? Isn’t it possible that if she’d told Nik right off that she’d be doing him a favor? If she really knew him like she’s always bragging she does, she’d know that first and foremost, Nik demands full disclosure, ala Sonny. 

I don’t like fake-Em. I like the underwhelming acting interpretation of portrayer Livingston even less. She may be nice in person, she may even be pretty in that everyday Homecoming queen sort that every other white boy next door digs. 

But nice and pretty don’t pay the bills, hike up the ratings or keep me watching. 

Lose the drip, use the vets, dump the mob, call me in the morning.