Showing posts with label Random Observations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Random Observations. Show all posts
Saturday, May 28, 2011
I Feel Like..... Branching Out
I've talked to you about my life and the events therein, but everything to date has all in the same little narrow-ass spectrum of music. I do know so much more about so many other things - or so I'd like you to think. So while I'll continue to post about my musical adventures here, I think I'll come up with a second blog about my other interests. Sports, news, politics, cooking, anything that I've been able to wrap my mind around over the course of my years. I'll give you an update when I've come up with a name and address.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Wii'd
Checking in from another two-week gig in Carson City. Joy is with me this time, her birthday is coming up this Wednesday, so I had to bring her. That, and this would probably be the last time I'd be able to do so until April or May. Packing for Joy means carry a whole fuck of a lot more than I normally would, and this time around it also included something new - our new Wii.
I'd always wanted one of these things, but our general state of poverty precluded purchasing anything like that. Then out of the blue we get a phone call from our daughter-in-law Melissa in North Carolina. It seems that she's gotten into the business of being an Ebay reseller, buying lots of particular items and reselling them individually. And apparently, she's pretty good at it. And she tells us that she'd been planning on sending us a Wii for Christmas, but she figured she might as well just send it to us right then and there, with a bunch of games and peripherals. She even threw in a coffeemaker for my folks. And sure enough, this giant package of Wii-stuff arrived about a week later. We got Wii Sports, Wii Sports Resort, Wii Fit, EA Sports Active, a Dance Dance Revolution game, DJ Hero, and even a GameCube 'street' soccer game. Joy and I, along with my little brother Mac, tore into the games with abandon. We golf, bowl, swordfight, play hoops, practice yoga, play balance and coordination games, and otherwise work up a good sweat while getting our game on. The package even included a mat for the DDR game, and a pair of MMA-style gloves with pockets for the Wii's Remote and Nunchuck controllers to be used for boxing and other combat-sports games.
But what I was looking forward to was what Nintendo calls the Wii's Virtual Console. With the Virtual Console, we can download original mini-games, downloadable content for Wii games, and most importantly to me, classic games from all Nintendo's old systems, as well as consoles from Sega, NEC's TurboGrafx 16, SNK's Neo-Geo, even the ancient Commodore 64 computer. With the Wii connected to the Station's free Internet, I downloaded Dr. Mario Online Rx for Joy, and the classic NES chestnuts Mega Man II and River City Ransom for me. And with games for as little as $5, the Wii's hard drive (augmented by an SD flash-memory cardslot - that's where the games actually went), I figure that the Wii will become a treasure trove of old-school games pretty quick.
And as an added bonus, Mac sold me his spare Xbox 360 for $40 and a carton of cigarettes. I can download stuff onto that system as well, and Microsoft's Xbox Live service offers it's fair share of classic games, even Atari 2600 and Mattel Intellivision. And I can get games from them for as little as $3 - bonus! In the long run, it means that there's that much more crap for me to schlep around from gig to gig, but at least it keeps me knee-deep in video games. So much better than gambling in my opinion. I may be spending money, but after the initial expenditure, it's all free!
I can live with that.
I'd always wanted one of these things, but our general state of poverty precluded purchasing anything like that. Then out of the blue we get a phone call from our daughter-in-law Melissa in North Carolina. It seems that she's gotten into the business of being an Ebay reseller, buying lots of particular items and reselling them individually. And apparently, she's pretty good at it. And she tells us that she'd been planning on sending us a Wii for Christmas, but she figured she might as well just send it to us right then and there, with a bunch of games and peripherals. She even threw in a coffeemaker for my folks. And sure enough, this giant package of Wii-stuff arrived about a week later. We got Wii Sports, Wii Sports Resort, Wii Fit, EA Sports Active, a Dance Dance Revolution game, DJ Hero, and even a GameCube 'street' soccer game. Joy and I, along with my little brother Mac, tore into the games with abandon. We golf, bowl, swordfight, play hoops, practice yoga, play balance and coordination games, and otherwise work up a good sweat while getting our game on. The package even included a mat for the DDR game, and a pair of MMA-style gloves with pockets for the Wii's Remote and Nunchuck controllers to be used for boxing and other combat-sports games.
But what I was looking forward to was what Nintendo calls the Wii's Virtual Console. With the Virtual Console, we can download original mini-games, downloadable content for Wii games, and most importantly to me, classic games from all Nintendo's old systems, as well as consoles from Sega, NEC's TurboGrafx 16, SNK's Neo-Geo, even the ancient Commodore 64 computer. With the Wii connected to the Station's free Internet, I downloaded Dr. Mario Online Rx for Joy, and the classic NES chestnuts Mega Man II and River City Ransom for me. And with games for as little as $5, the Wii's hard drive (augmented by an SD flash-memory cardslot - that's where the games actually went), I figure that the Wii will become a treasure trove of old-school games pretty quick.
And as an added bonus, Mac sold me his spare Xbox 360 for $40 and a carton of cigarettes. I can download stuff onto that system as well, and Microsoft's Xbox Live service offers it's fair share of classic games, even Atari 2600 and Mattel Intellivision. And I can get games from them for as little as $3 - bonus! In the long run, it means that there's that much more crap for me to schlep around from gig to gig, but at least it keeps me knee-deep in video games. So much better than gambling in my opinion. I may be spending money, but after the initial expenditure, it's all free!
I can live with that.
Monday, May 24, 2010
MB Presents: The Newest Winner Of The Fred Phelps Award
It's been a pretty weird night for me. Shall I give it to you in timeline format? I think I shall.
Sunday, 23 May 2010: 4:00pm:
Sundays at the Carson Station are always weird for me, and especially so when that Sunday is the day after the last day of the gig. But I have plans for the day, and money to make. So right about now I'm wandering downstairs to the cabaret to partially tear down my kit. Only partially - I'm helping Dean host jam night tonight at the Twisted Spoke, so I don't really want to tear it all the way down, only to put it back together then tear it down again. So I'm just taking the drums and cymbals off my rack. I'll come back after dinner and load up the truck.
5:00pm:
All-you-can-eat-pork-ribs night is a favorite night for me at the Station's restaurant. I invited my 'caretaker' Sara to join me, but she never showed. Oh well, her loss. Maybe she didn't read the message I left for her on Facebook. Either way, she missed out on some pretty good ribs.
6:00pm:
Dinner's over, now load up the truck and get over to the Spoke! Did I ever mention to you that my truck looks like it's grown antlers when I'm driving around with my fully-assembled rack in the back? This will come into play later. Now go set up at the Spoke, dumbass!
7:00pm:
Jam night starts, and look who shows up! Sara, along with Alexis, her girlfriend Crystal, and their pal Matt. I choose to be tactful and not bring up dinner. They leave after about half and hour, claiming hunger. They look like they don't have the heart to tell me they're leaving, and I tell them that it's okay, and while they say they'll come back afterwards, I say that it's okay if they don't, that I was glad that they came out for a little bit anyway. They never did come back, by the way.
11:15pm:
Jam night has just concluded, and I have a conundrum on my hands. You see, my next gig doesn't start until Thursday night at John Ascuaga's Nugget in Sparks. I probably won't even be able to check into the hotel until Wednesday night. Which leaves me with a few days' downtime. I've made arrangements to stay with my friend Jazmyn and her kids, but I have no clue as to the safety of the neighborhood in which she lives. So I decide to run down to Sparks and drop off my gear at the Nugget, just leaving it backstage until Wednesday when I can set it up.
11:45pm:
I'm driving through the southern end of Reno when I see 'sex lights': a cop ahead of me has pulled some poor schmuck over. I drive on by, right on the posted speed limit of 45mph. A Washoe County Sheriff's vehicle is watching the incident as I'm driving through. I figure that he's curious about the strange metal contraption on the back of my truck, and he wants to check it out, as is his wont. I turn off Virginia on to South McCarran Boulevard, and within a few blocks he pulls up behind me and turns on his lights. Nothing new for me, because while I've never been popped for a moving violation in my life, I get pulled over a lot. Such is life when you work nights in bars. He comes around, and I greet him casually and ask what the problem is. His reply knocked me for a loop:
My license is suspended!
WHAT THE FUCK? I ask him if he knew why, and he says he doesn't have access to that information, just that my license was suspended. He asks if I was in the process of moving, and I explained that I was. My insurance was current, as were my driver's license and vehicle registration. But according to the officer, my license had been suspended in January for not having insurance. Seeing that this just wasn't the case, he advised me to go to the Nevada DMV and show proof of insurance, and that would clear things up. He noted that I was driving normally, acknowledged that I was stone-cold sober (when am I not?), and sent me on my way, advising me that if anyone else pulled me over to tell them that I had already been made aware of my situation. He even told me where the DMV office in Carson City was. Give that man an extra donut - with sprinkles on it.
I finally get to the Nugget to load in my gear, only to find that for the first time in about a year, Security has actually bothered to change the codes on the doors leading to backstage. I alert them to the situation, and they most helpfully take care of my problems.
Monday, 24 May 2010, 1:15am:
I make it back to Carson City, and boy am I pissed off. What the fuck is going on here? Sitting in the Station's parking lot, I go through my stack of insurance proofs, and there's a neat little history of mine there to be had - a new card every six months. There's my last card for Nevada - October 2009 to April 2010. There's the fill-in card I got when I (quite happily) switched our State Farm Insurance account to our old agent in Port Angeles - Jan 2010 to April 2010. And there's my current proof - April 2010 to October 2010. With smoke coming out of my ears like a fucking smokestack, I realize just what's happened, and who is to blame for this conundrum. Dear readers, I give to you the latest winner of the Fred Phelps Award For Dumbest Humanoid On The Planet: Christina Kantrud, State Farm Insurance Agent, and her staff.
We have a history with this idiot and the idiotlings that work under her. About ten or eleven months ago, as Joy and I moved into our tent-trailer, we received a rather severe penalty from DirecTV for not having returned their equipment to them in a timely fashion. This penalty was incurred all of two days after terminating service with them, which was also the same day that the FedEx box arrived, the FedEx box DirecTV sent us to return their equipment in. This unfortunate incident took several hundred dollars out of our bank account, money that wasn't there to begin with. So, while we fought DirecTV over it and told our bank that this was their fault and not ours, we informed the other people we do business with that automatic withdrawals from bank account wouldn't be possible right now, and that our bills would be paid on a strictly cash-only basis. Ms. Kantrud and her staff were made aware of the situation, and agreed to cancel automatic withdrawals from our bank account. A few days later, I went in to the office to make my payment, only to find that it was unnecessary to do so - the automatic withdrawal had already been made. I asked the little girl behind the counter a simple question, quoting Ellen Ripley from Aliens:
Did IQ's drop sharply while I was away?
This was the exact same person who smiled and said she'd cancel the automatic withdrawals just a few days before! Hello? Anyone home? I reminded her of the problem with my bank account with DirecTV, and she blanched, admitted her mistake and offered to fix it as soon as possible.
One month later, it happened again. And the next month. And the next month. And the next month. We started a new account with a different bank, gave them that information, and told them to make automatic withdrawals from that account.
What happened the next month? Same ol' same ol' - they pulled from our old bank account!
In January, we informed them that we were moving back to Washington due to Joy's health, and going back to our old agent due to gross incompetence. We even filed a formal complaint with State Farm Insurance about the sheer negligence of Kantrud and her staff, their utter ignorance of our requests. Well, I guess she got some payback on us. And she probably did what she was supposed to do in the process. Never mind that we would be continuing our SFI account (albeit with a better agent in a different state), her office sent a letter to the Nevada Department of Motor Vehicles that we no longer had insurance. Therefore, my license was suspended.
Well, now it's our turn for payback. The DMV will more than likely revoke the suspension pending my showing them continuous proof of insurance. And Joy will be calling our SFI agent in the morning to let them know what a bunch of fuck-ups Ms. Kantrud and her underlings are. And following that phone call, State Farm's home office will be receiving another blistering complaint from us about shoddy service from an agent with a history of similar problems with us.
Well, here's to Ms. Kantrud and her staff of twatlings - the latest winners of the Fred Phelps Award For Dumbest Humanoids On The Planet. May God have mercy upon your souls. If you have any that is.
And one last piece of advice for the sad sorry lot of you: McDonald's is always hiring......
Sunday, 23 May 2010: 4:00pm:
Sundays at the Carson Station are always weird for me, and especially so when that Sunday is the day after the last day of the gig. But I have plans for the day, and money to make. So right about now I'm wandering downstairs to the cabaret to partially tear down my kit. Only partially - I'm helping Dean host jam night tonight at the Twisted Spoke, so I don't really want to tear it all the way down, only to put it back together then tear it down again. So I'm just taking the drums and cymbals off my rack. I'll come back after dinner and load up the truck.
5:00pm:
All-you-can-eat-pork-ribs night is a favorite night for me at the Station's restaurant. I invited my 'caretaker' Sara to join me, but she never showed. Oh well, her loss. Maybe she didn't read the message I left for her on Facebook. Either way, she missed out on some pretty good ribs.
6:00pm:
Dinner's over, now load up the truck and get over to the Spoke! Did I ever mention to you that my truck looks like it's grown antlers when I'm driving around with my fully-assembled rack in the back? This will come into play later. Now go set up at the Spoke, dumbass!
7:00pm:
Jam night starts, and look who shows up! Sara, along with Alexis, her girlfriend Crystal, and their pal Matt. I choose to be tactful and not bring up dinner. They leave after about half and hour, claiming hunger. They look like they don't have the heart to tell me they're leaving, and I tell them that it's okay, and while they say they'll come back afterwards, I say that it's okay if they don't, that I was glad that they came out for a little bit anyway. They never did come back, by the way.
11:15pm:
Jam night has just concluded, and I have a conundrum on my hands. You see, my next gig doesn't start until Thursday night at John Ascuaga's Nugget in Sparks. I probably won't even be able to check into the hotel until Wednesday night. Which leaves me with a few days' downtime. I've made arrangements to stay with my friend Jazmyn and her kids, but I have no clue as to the safety of the neighborhood in which she lives. So I decide to run down to Sparks and drop off my gear at the Nugget, just leaving it backstage until Wednesday when I can set it up.
11:45pm:
I'm driving through the southern end of Reno when I see 'sex lights': a cop ahead of me has pulled some poor schmuck over. I drive on by, right on the posted speed limit of 45mph. A Washoe County Sheriff's vehicle is watching the incident as I'm driving through. I figure that he's curious about the strange metal contraption on the back of my truck, and he wants to check it out, as is his wont. I turn off Virginia on to South McCarran Boulevard, and within a few blocks he pulls up behind me and turns on his lights. Nothing new for me, because while I've never been popped for a moving violation in my life, I get pulled over a lot. Such is life when you work nights in bars. He comes around, and I greet him casually and ask what the problem is. His reply knocked me for a loop:
My license is suspended!
WHAT THE FUCK? I ask him if he knew why, and he says he doesn't have access to that information, just that my license was suspended. He asks if I was in the process of moving, and I explained that I was. My insurance was current, as were my driver's license and vehicle registration. But according to the officer, my license had been suspended in January for not having insurance. Seeing that this just wasn't the case, he advised me to go to the Nevada DMV and show proof of insurance, and that would clear things up. He noted that I was driving normally, acknowledged that I was stone-cold sober (when am I not?), and sent me on my way, advising me that if anyone else pulled me over to tell them that I had already been made aware of my situation. He even told me where the DMV office in Carson City was. Give that man an extra donut - with sprinkles on it.
I finally get to the Nugget to load in my gear, only to find that for the first time in about a year, Security has actually bothered to change the codes on the doors leading to backstage. I alert them to the situation, and they most helpfully take care of my problems.
Monday, 24 May 2010, 1:15am:
I make it back to Carson City, and boy am I pissed off. What the fuck is going on here? Sitting in the Station's parking lot, I go through my stack of insurance proofs, and there's a neat little history of mine there to be had - a new card every six months. There's my last card for Nevada - October 2009 to April 2010. There's the fill-in card I got when I (quite happily) switched our State Farm Insurance account to our old agent in Port Angeles - Jan 2010 to April 2010. And there's my current proof - April 2010 to October 2010. With smoke coming out of my ears like a fucking smokestack, I realize just what's happened, and who is to blame for this conundrum. Dear readers, I give to you the latest winner of the Fred Phelps Award For Dumbest Humanoid On The Planet: Christina Kantrud, State Farm Insurance Agent, and her staff.
We have a history with this idiot and the idiotlings that work under her. About ten or eleven months ago, as Joy and I moved into our tent-trailer, we received a rather severe penalty from DirecTV for not having returned their equipment to them in a timely fashion. This penalty was incurred all of two days after terminating service with them, which was also the same day that the FedEx box arrived, the FedEx box DirecTV sent us to return their equipment in. This unfortunate incident took several hundred dollars out of our bank account, money that wasn't there to begin with. So, while we fought DirecTV over it and told our bank that this was their fault and not ours, we informed the other people we do business with that automatic withdrawals from bank account wouldn't be possible right now, and that our bills would be paid on a strictly cash-only basis. Ms. Kantrud and her staff were made aware of the situation, and agreed to cancel automatic withdrawals from our bank account. A few days later, I went in to the office to make my payment, only to find that it was unnecessary to do so - the automatic withdrawal had already been made. I asked the little girl behind the counter a simple question, quoting Ellen Ripley from Aliens:
Did IQ's drop sharply while I was away?
This was the exact same person who smiled and said she'd cancel the automatic withdrawals just a few days before! Hello? Anyone home? I reminded her of the problem with my bank account with DirecTV, and she blanched, admitted her mistake and offered to fix it as soon as possible.
One month later, it happened again. And the next month. And the next month. And the next month. We started a new account with a different bank, gave them that information, and told them to make automatic withdrawals from that account.
What happened the next month? Same ol' same ol' - they pulled from our old bank account!
In January, we informed them that we were moving back to Washington due to Joy's health, and going back to our old agent due to gross incompetence. We even filed a formal complaint with State Farm Insurance about the sheer negligence of Kantrud and her staff, their utter ignorance of our requests. Well, I guess she got some payback on us. And she probably did what she was supposed to do in the process. Never mind that we would be continuing our SFI account (albeit with a better agent in a different state), her office sent a letter to the Nevada Department of Motor Vehicles that we no longer had insurance. Therefore, my license was suspended.
Well, now it's our turn for payback. The DMV will more than likely revoke the suspension pending my showing them continuous proof of insurance. And Joy will be calling our SFI agent in the morning to let them know what a bunch of fuck-ups Ms. Kantrud and her underlings are. And following that phone call, State Farm's home office will be receiving another blistering complaint from us about shoddy service from an agent with a history of similar problems with us.
Well, here's to Ms. Kantrud and her staff of twatlings - the latest winners of the Fred Phelps Award For Dumbest Humanoids On The Planet. May God have mercy upon your souls. If you have any that is.
And one last piece of advice for the sad sorry lot of you: McDonald's is always hiring......
Thursday, March 25, 2010
By The Way, Russ.....
I figured out why my new friend Russ Strathdee wasn't able to comment on my blog posts - I'd never actually set up my blog to accept posts correctly. I think I've fixed it. but I'll still be moderating the comments, so no trolling, aight?
Thursday, December 24, 2009
It Could Be A Lot Worse
I could be dead in a ditch in Burma.
I could be unemployed.
I could be cold.
I could be alone.
I could have no hope for the future.
I could be whining incessantly for no good reason.
----------------------------------------------------
Back to reality, Joe. I'm not dead, that's clearly obvious. I have a gig. I'm ensconced in my comfortable hotel room in Carson City with my loving wife sleeping a few feet away from me. Things aren't easy, but I still have room for optimism. I'm trying to cut back on my whining, don't know how well that's going.
Looking back, this hasn't been a great year for me, but I've come to the realization that there are more important things in life, than the bigger things. Being closer to friends and family. Being a more forgiving person to those who crossed me, or at least trying to be. Being less concerned about myself and more concerned about others. Giving more and taking less. It's an ongoing process, one that'll only finish shortly after I stop breathing.
But I have hope. Things will get better, sooner or later. I know one thing for sure. My fingernails will be a lot stronger for the experience. Merry Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Yule, and don't forget Festivus (for the rest of us), and here's to a Happy New Year for all of us.
I could be unemployed.
I could be cold.
I could be alone.
I could have no hope for the future.
I could be whining incessantly for no good reason.
----------------------------------------------------
Back to reality, Joe. I'm not dead, that's clearly obvious. I have a gig. I'm ensconced in my comfortable hotel room in Carson City with my loving wife sleeping a few feet away from me. Things aren't easy, but I still have room for optimism. I'm trying to cut back on my whining, don't know how well that's going.
Looking back, this hasn't been a great year for me, but I've come to the realization that there are more important things in life, than the bigger things. Being closer to friends and family. Being a more forgiving person to those who crossed me, or at least trying to be. Being less concerned about myself and more concerned about others. Giving more and taking less. It's an ongoing process, one that'll only finish shortly after I stop breathing.
But I have hope. Things will get better, sooner or later. I know one thing for sure. My fingernails will be a lot stronger for the experience. Merry Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Yule, and don't forget Festivus (for the rest of us), and here's to a Happy New Year for all of us.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
The Love-Life Patterns of Marilyn Manson
I was reading a review of the RockStar Mayhem Tour over at the blog of my friend Jamie (www.hardrockchick.com) yesterday, and she was talking about Marilyn Manson, the tour's headliner this year, and she mentioned seeing what she thought was MM's new girlfriend, alt-porn star Stoya. This got me to thinking about the love life of one Brian Hugh Warner, and I noticed two emergent patterns:
1.) He prefers thin, pale, presumably damaged brunette goth-girls.
2.) His pattern has been (so far) ingenue - adult entertainer - ingenue - adult entertainer
Let's explore this further, shall we? First on the docket is actress Rose McGowan, who was engaged to MM, but they never married, and their relationship only lasted about two years and change. According to various reports, McGowan was the inspiration for the song/character "Coma White" from the MM album Mechanical Animals, and the breakup of this relationship is rumored to be the inspiration of the song "(s)AINT" from the Golden Age of Grotesque album a few years later. McGowan was still a relative newcomer to acting at this time, and was only 24 or so when she and MM hooked up. So that definitely would make her an ingenue.
According to MM's Wikipedia profile there was a girlfriend between McGowan and our next subject, burlesque perfomer Dita von Teese (born Heather Sweet), but Wikipedia had nothing of note on one Michelle Greenberg. von Teese would wind up being MM's only wife, and their engagement lasted longer than the wedding, with a factor towards its demise being MM's extramarital affair with subject number three..... a then nineteen-year-old Evan Rachel Wood. According to various media outlets, the two dated for almost two years. Wood = ingenue actress, and damn near jailbait. And now we have Stoya, an outright, unashamed alt-porn star. A quick search of IMDb and its adult-film counterpart AMDb didn't reveal much, not even Stoya's real name. "Stoya" is her childhood nickname, a shortening of her last name, likely Stoyanovic or something like that, given that her father - presumably - is of Serbian descent. That's all I could really find out. That, and that Stoya is currently twenty-three.
Given his personal preferences, and the average length of his relationships, the Scientific Method says that a hot young ingenue should be hitting his radar in about two years or so. A potential candidate could be Emma Watson (Hermione from the Harry Potter films), though she'd need a good gothing-up first, and may already be way too smart for him. A similar ingenue, though a singer instead of an actress, would be Paramore singer Hayley Williams, but her being a Christian would likely bother Manson too much. And neither of them seem damaged to me. I'd suggest Chyler Leigh, the Grey's Anatomy actress that got cozy in a hot tub with Manson in the video for his cover of the 80's chestnut "Tainted Love" (for the soundtrack of Not Another Teen Movie, which she starred in), but she's been married since 2002 and has three kids with her husband. Certainly not Manson's speed there. Megan Fox is a possibility, but she'd need to lose that tan tout-suite, and may be too old by then (she's 23 as of this writing). If MM was to be looking for a cute but already slightly creepy ingenue who'd probably love to dye her hair black, he'll just have to wait about two-and-a-half years, until February 23, 2012.
That's Dakota Fanning's eighteenth birthday.
1.) He prefers thin, pale, presumably damaged brunette goth-girls.
2.) His pattern has been (so far) ingenue - adult entertainer - ingenue - adult entertainer
Let's explore this further, shall we? First on the docket is actress Rose McGowan, who was engaged to MM, but they never married, and their relationship only lasted about two years and change. According to various reports, McGowan was the inspiration for the song/character "Coma White" from the MM album Mechanical Animals, and the breakup of this relationship is rumored to be the inspiration of the song "(s)AINT" from the Golden Age of Grotesque album a few years later. McGowan was still a relative newcomer to acting at this time, and was only 24 or so when she and MM hooked up. So that definitely would make her an ingenue.
According to MM's Wikipedia profile there was a girlfriend between McGowan and our next subject, burlesque perfomer Dita von Teese (born Heather Sweet), but Wikipedia had nothing of note on one Michelle Greenberg. von Teese would wind up being MM's only wife, and their engagement lasted longer than the wedding, with a factor towards its demise being MM's extramarital affair with subject number three..... a then nineteen-year-old Evan Rachel Wood. According to various media outlets, the two dated for almost two years. Wood = ingenue actress, and damn near jailbait. And now we have Stoya, an outright, unashamed alt-porn star. A quick search of IMDb and its adult-film counterpart AMDb didn't reveal much, not even Stoya's real name. "Stoya" is her childhood nickname, a shortening of her last name, likely Stoyanovic or something like that, given that her father - presumably - is of Serbian descent. That's all I could really find out. That, and that Stoya is currently twenty-three.
Given his personal preferences, and the average length of his relationships, the Scientific Method says that a hot young ingenue should be hitting his radar in about two years or so. A potential candidate could be Emma Watson (Hermione from the Harry Potter films), though she'd need a good gothing-up first, and may already be way too smart for him. A similar ingenue, though a singer instead of an actress, would be Paramore singer Hayley Williams, but her being a Christian would likely bother Manson too much. And neither of them seem damaged to me. I'd suggest Chyler Leigh, the Grey's Anatomy actress that got cozy in a hot tub with Manson in the video for his cover of the 80's chestnut "Tainted Love" (for the soundtrack of Not Another Teen Movie, which she starred in), but she's been married since 2002 and has three kids with her husband. Certainly not Manson's speed there. Megan Fox is a possibility, but she'd need to lose that tan tout-suite, and may be too old by then (she's 23 as of this writing). If MM was to be looking for a cute but already slightly creepy ingenue who'd probably love to dye her hair black, he'll just have to wait about two-and-a-half years, until February 23, 2012.
That's Dakota Fanning's eighteenth birthday.
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