Sex, Lies and Emerz

The Leighton Meester sex-tape viewing will inevitably go down as the central entertainment of what will soon be known as the Best Day of My Life So Far, tentatively scheduled to occur the minute San Fernando Valley bigwigs agree to terms and Comcast repairmen finally arrive and hook me back up to the real world. Until then, dreams will remain dark and spotty, featuring lots of spiders and rats and scuttling sounds.

I walked past a man speaking sternly to his ten-year-old son on a campus bench. The boy was red-faced, hoping he wouldn't cry. I thought, My God, did I just fall through a time warp? Is that me? That was how I felt for about fourteen years of my life. Then a guy jogged by who looked exactly like a Filipino Chuck Bass, and there I was again, suddenly, "safe" in 2009.

Emerz says he doesn't know if he can watch the tape. Remember, he didn't watch Kim Kardashian's, either. "Well, I'm a sensitive guy," says Emerz. This from a man who refers to women's primary(?) erogenous zones as "bangers and mash."

Sex, Fame and What's the other one?

Someone call Liam Neeson's agent.

A Gleeful Emerz Revisits A Mystery

Memo to David Chase, says Emerz. This is how you end an episode with Journey.

Emerz, She's Too Young!

Normally, I wouldn't agree, says Emerz. I've read the Marquis de Sade, remember, says Emerz. He is speaking about a film he has just seen. There's blood on the couch now, says Emerz. It came from my arms. Suddenly everything itched. Well, cheese and crackers, I say. That smarts. And hasn't everyone been there, tormented by that deep, inner static? Lifetime's She's Too Young takes place in a comfortable suburb. Therefore, the high school social caste is determined by promiscuity. It really is a parent's worse nightmare. Funny how those always turn out to be the basketball star's fantasies. Boys will be boys, says Emerz. Except, not this time. This time, a girl named Dawn reports to the school nurse and says that she has a painful sore in her mouth. She is diagnosed with syphilis. Her parents have recently gone through a divorce. She admits to having multiple, multiple partners. She is in ninth grade. Emerz' skin tightens.

Cue the crying parents (including a slumming Marcia Gay Harden), the public health officials, the vacant stares of the actresses as they give dry accounts of sexual acts under the blue lights of the examination room. Cue the moral outcry, the unwavering sensation of immortality that pumps through the hearts of teens everywhere, the overturned bottle after the liquor cabinet gets busted open.

You see, I tell Emerz. They do feel shame. If anyone can recognize it, it's me or Emerz. Mostly Emerz. But by now Emerz is huddled in the corner, shaking and bleeding. And here he was, thinking he was almost ready for children of his own. Everyone's having babies. Just watch MTV. I mean, Emerz, how soon we forget. He's Too Young.

I tell Emerz that it is good to be occasionally reminded of possible consequences. Sometimes that reminder comes from Lifetime television movies. Sometimes a Lifetime television movie is the consequence.

From Emerz, For My Consideration

Emerz always called Serena sloppy, hastily thrown together. He prefers the cold calculation of Blair, and after all, he reminds me, she was the one masturbating all season (busted by the housekeeper. High school!). How Serena (Jenny?) of her. How like Blair to appropriate their best qualities and make them her own. And now this (I mean, she is kind of a spy): And then this: That's so Emerz, except he makes the Bad Girls Go Worse.

Emerz Resists The Recession

Emerz and I are walking through a nearly empty mall, silent but for the sound of his flip-flops thwacking the once-polished floor. We consider empty storefronts, blooming garbage cans, the roving packs of dogs, like a less-crowded Pompeii. We recall the vacant parking lot we trudged through, the shuttered Applebees. Suddenly there is an oasis, a girl walks out of Lady Footlocker. She considers us, her fellow shoppers, travellers, for a moment, before turning away and heading for the (she'll soon realize) stagnant escalator. "Well, she looks like about a million bucks," I say to Emerz. "Yeah," he says, "as in, she could be lost in a night."

Emerz On The Way Home From Fleck, Kuehnle, Potter and Potter