CNN ANCHOR EXTENSIONS IN THEIR NATURAL HABITAT

Sometimes I am filled with such pride for the savvy readers here at Peon Confidential.
I have received a t-shirt, a book, an artistic rendition of "The Lone Pube" and now this...

It seems that a certain CNN anchor isn't shy when it comes to hair extensions. This person's post-show routine includes ripping them out for all to see and throwing them on the nearest hard surface. One of our wily readers saw these limp, cheap-looking, rather forlorn bits of fake hair on the set and decided to capture their beauty for us.

As always, we will keep this reader/photographer's identity shrouded in mystery. But not the anchor of course. Only Peons are protected around here.

So-
Which of the following CNN anchors attaches these ultra-fashionable extensions to their scalp on a daily basis?
Is it:

1. KIRAN CHETRY

2. LARRY KING

3. ANDERSON COOPER

THE BROTHEL BUS: A CAUTIONARY TALE

Well I am just devastated.
Read it and weep:

MIAMI (Reuters) - A "brothel bus" that detectives said cruised Miami Beach offering lap dances and drinks has taken its last ride, police said on Wednesday. Riders were offered oral sex for $100, according to Miami Beach police who impounded the limousine bus and arrested its operator early on Sunday.

The sleek black bus cruised the South Beach neighborhood popular among tourists and club-goers, offering rides and unlimited drinks for $40.

Aboard, undercover detectives said they found a fully stocked bar and several young women who stripped down to reveal G-strings stuffed with cash and offered to perform sex acts.

Suspected operator Christine Morteh, 29, was arrested on charges of offering to commit prostitution, transportation for the purpose of prostitution and operating a business without a license. She was released from jail on $5,000 bond.

This sucks for many reasons:

1. Aren't we all suffering enough with these high gas prices? Here we have a wonderful, energy-saving carpool option, and now it's been shut down. If this type of intolerance continues, we will be slaves to foreign oil forever.

2. Must we attack this delightful female entrepreneur? Statistics show that women still only earn 85 cents to the male dollar. We should be supporting this innovative businesswoman and her energy saving, carpool/blowjob service.

3. This "brothel bus" reminds me of the Gold Club van that used to cruise around Buckhead in Atlanta, looking for drunken horndog conventioneers to scoop up and transport to the Gold Club's whipped cream-basted-nipple-baring environs. Since I did not have a driver's license, and lived within walking distance of the Gold Club, I was more than once tempted to climb aboard. It seemed like a practical way to get home on time to catch Sanford and Son reruns on TVLand.
But alas, fearful of drunken horndog conventioneers, I never did.

And then poof! A few arrests and several court dates later, the legendary Gold Club was gone, just like this Miami brothel bus.

Moral of this story?
If you see a seedy, nudie bus zooming about--carpe diem!
It may not be there tomorrow...

DEN OF SPIES

Why is there a dashing photo of Roger Moore on today's Peon Confidential?
Two reasons:

1. I am a member of a very tiny minority: I think Roger Moore is the best Bond. Consider he took over in the 1970's, when Sean Connery's brand of swaggering, macho, Cold War sexuality was quite antiquated. Moore injected some humor into a role that could have become extinct otherwise. I love how he never took himself too seriously. Plus, there were times he was forced to scamper around the globe in some dubious 1970's attire. Connery, who was consistently decked out in gorgeous Saville Row suits, never had to wrestle with such sartorial indignities. Not such an easy task, and Moore wore it well.

2. The next Mama D's Arts Bordello, which is slated for October, is going to be a spy theme. So I am putting it out there:

If anyone has a short film, a short story, some great dance moves, wants to sing a Bond theme with a kazoo accompanist or is itching to offer up any type of art that would fit in with a spy theme--let me know!

P.S.
ROGER MOORE IS THE BEST BOND!

WHAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF...

Yesterday I came home from work to find a beautiful surprise.
Carefully encased in a bubble wrap envelope, someone had sent me former CNN anchor turned self-help guru Daryn Kagan's inspirational book entitled, "What's Possible!" (Note the exclamation point in the title. That really drives the concept home, doesn't it?)

Enclosed was a card which simply read, "Dare to dream, Saara!"

I cried tears of joy.
For years I've lived in the shadows of my desires. Too shy, too fearful of the consequences of daring to dream.
But now with Daryn Kagan's help, I can and will achieve my goals. No longer will I shuffle through this life unfulfilled.

Thank you, Peon Confidential reader, for sending me this treasure.
And thank you Daryn Kagan, for saving my life. By following your example, anything is possible...

Even sex with Rush Limbaugh.

PLASTIC TWEETY: THE REAL ME

I've been working on a few short stories about my bizarre early childhood in Hawaii. This means I've been sorting through family photos to jog my memory. Most of them are ripped, like the one above. Why? Because my parents split up and my dad pursued a new life of haunting Honolulu discos with a bleach blonde Pan Am stewardess. In a coked up state, this disco queen decided it would be an excellent idea to rip up the majority of our family photos.
Not sure where my father was when she was doing this. In my more cynical moments, I imagine he joined in.

The weird part is--sure we had some negatives, but for some reason, we never developed them.
My mother felt our family history was more authentic this way--ripped, yellowing, scotch taped together.

When I came across this photo, I smiled because although this one was taken on Halloween, I used to wear this costume all year round. I don't know why but I loved that plastic smell and the idea that I was wearing a costume when everyone else was stuck wearing boring clothes.
And then it struck me:
This is EXACTLY the image I have in my head when people say: "How do you see yourself?"

Whenever I try to look sexy on the dance floor...
Whenever I try to be sophisticated in a restaurant...
Whenever I try to be professional at a business meeting...

It is ALWAYS this image that comes to mind:
My chubby belly pressing up against this stupid Tweety Bird costume in the middle of June.
I am always ridiculous, juvenile and slightly absurd.

I often wonder if any political despots, sex symbols, and Wall Street titans have similar images in their heads.

IF YOU HAD JUST ONE SHOT...

Alright:
We're approaching the season of blockbuster summer films.
This inevitably means we are subjected to bombastic voiceovers proclaiming:
"If you had just one shot..."
Or:
"They had just once chance, one moment, one opportunity..."
Or:
"This moment would never come again, he had to seize it now or never..."

But seriously...
I'm asking all of you.
Have you ever felt like that? Have you ever believed that if you fucked up this one opportunity your life was over?
Maybe it's because I'm a writer and not an athlete, and I get rejection letters left and right (yet I keep plugging way) but I have never once felt that I had just one shot.

Am I alone here?

GOVERNMENT STIMULATION

So, I've been reading a few articles implying that George Bush's stimulus check strategy has not exactly been the economic lubricant he'd visualized. Far from flooding the malls with their Bush lucre, Americans seem to be spending this money on necessities like food and gas. New York Senator Chuck Schumer even said,

"It's galling to think that taxpayers' stimulus checks will be lining the pockets of OPEC. The sad truth is that the average American family will spend almost their entire stimulus check on higher gas prices this year."

Well Chuck, that may be. But I've heard of at least one American who is spending his stimulus check in a way that would make our forefathers proud...

While at work yesterday, a co-worker burst into the room all aglow. "I finally got my stimulus check!" he announced with Rocky-style fists in the air. "I'm headin' to Chinatown tomorrow night for a massage. There's this unbelievable woman there who gives a happy ending that makes you cum like a mother fucker."

Now that's what I call economic stimulus. With one government check President George Bush has provided a hard working young man with a hand job and a masseuse/hooker with a few extra bucks for her next Valtrex prescription. This is Trickle Down Economics at it's finest.

Uncle Sam, I salute you.

THE SASQUATCH GODDESS

I've received quite a few e-mails from quite a few out-of-town Peons, asking how the last Mama D's Arts Bordello was.
Answer:
Fantastic.
But with one caveat...
There were a few nerds in the audience who apparently have a problem with burlesque.
So:
To anyone thinking of attending the next Mama D's, which is a sexy spy themed show:
If you can't handle nudity, if you can't handle yummy women shaking their asses for you---stay home.
Seriously.
I mean it.
Stay the fuck home on your boring sofa and watch boring Law and Order.
We don't need you pissing on our good time.
If you come to the bordello, you WILL see nudity.
You will also have fun. You will drink too much. You may even get a hard on.
Newsflash: IT'S A BORDELLO!

Anyway-
For anyone who wants to read the Jackie Collins homage we created at the last Mama D's, I am providing you with a link.
I'm very proud of it, and very proud of the bordello.
All the nerds can kiss our naked asses...

THE SASQUATCH GODDESS

B.O. MYSTERY

New Yorkers--how about this fucking heat wave?

Actually, it seems to have let up a bit today. But I fear we're on track for a brutal summer. So I have a question about the hot city nights. Perhaps there are some scientists out there who can answer this one:

Last night I was walking home from work, through the smelly concrete sauna that is my fair city. I walked past Japanese restaurant employees having a smoke, packs of cellphone-addicted teens ordering street meat, and a few robust women squatting down to clean up their dog's shit.

However, while sauntering across a block that had no one on it, nary a pedestrian--I suddenly stepped into a vast pocket of B.O.
I looked up, down, all around and could not find anyone who could have been the culprit. I even sniffed my own armpits, but I was not guilty.

So how does a pocket of B.O. get trapped in the muggy atmosphere like that? How could it just be suspended in midair for me to stumble upon and sniff?

How?

ASSORTED VEGA$ PHOTOS

Well,
I finally received some photos from the former CNN peon pal who caused mischief in Vegas with me.
I am only posting a few--but I believe these photos capture the true heart of Vegas:
Cheap buffet food, matching denim jacketed tourists, the romantic gondolier, and Blue Man Group photo ops at the Venetian.

MAMA D'S ARTS BORDELLO PRESENTS: GUILTY PLEASURES

Tonight's the night!
Twinkies, fake blood, boobs, booze and delicious prose!

What more do you want out of your Tuesday? Get over the the Parkside Lounge and hang out with Mama D and the gang as we indulge our guiltiest pleasures...

DATE: Tuesday, June 3rd
TIME: 8pm
PLACE: The Parkside Lounge
ADDRESS: 317 E Houston St
SUBWAY: J, M, Z; F at Delancey-Essex; V at 2nd Ave
COST: 8 dollars