Punk rock dating : chapters 9-12

Punk rock dating chapter 9: The days of dark poetry….

Funeral-Eyed Blues:

Finally, (some of) the Secrets of Punk Rock Dating...:

1. Mutual disinterests.

2. You want to be held at knifepoint, I want to be held at knifepoint...let's (not) dance.

3. Elaborate boots. A flannel strap, black and red laces, a bicycle chain, several band logos, a switchblade taped to the toe, etc. An explanation for every feature (e.g.: if ever you spot a pack of exceptionally well-dressed Billy-boys, it's in your best interest to always have a weighty bicycle chain...)

This is the one everyone always overlooks...

4. Vinyl records...no turntable. The residual psychic vibrations of that "Exploited" vinyl are powerful enough.

5. Your anti-establishment haircut is charming but you had me at the "Lady Gaga" on your iPod.

Well...We can't give away all the secrets this early...After all we don't know who might be reading this...

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The vaguely connected story of how Julie Hales actually met her Phantom:

January 21st, 2009...

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times," said the opening line of the book Julie was reading. She never read past that line, but that line was enough.

Julie, disillusioned with choice, looked over at the person sitting next to her at exactly 3:30 p.m. Now she understood the command to "sit in stunned silence" from 3:31-3:32 p.m. There was no mistaking it, in flesh and blood, here sat Princess Mary Adelaide, talking on a cell phone to her literary agent.

"M-Mary?" stammered Julie.

"Yes?" answered Marie.

"You- you're really here?"

"Yes. I'm currently on a five city promotional tour..." Marie was used to people recognizing her, since she had become a world-class novelist, however Julie had no idea that Marie was famous. She had never seen her on 'Oprah' and had never read any of her books. "I'm going to be at Blake's Books in Midtown...You should stop by..."

"Oh," oh-ed Julie.

Julie's "Oh" came across as "I see. That's all the information I need. Thank you."

But that's not what it meant....the "Oh" was in response to a look Marie gave Julie that resulted in some sort of "cosmic bond" or some such thing...

Electric silence. Clashing blue eyes. Lowered jaws swinging to find any word at all. Was it the ring of familiarity? A love so white-hot passionate it could only burn for a second?

Only one man knew and he wasn't telling...


Join us tomorrow when "the one man who wasn't telling" tells us why the cosmic bond happened and also "The Skipper’s” full name, and who are these “Billy Boys?”


Punk rock dating chapter 10: SCORPIO vs TAURUS...

A Brief History of The Billy Boys:

Planet-Bill was born in the death rattle of a red rectangle nebula. An interstellar greaser, he fell to Earth sometime around 1975 (the same year 'Lady Marmalade' became a number-one hit, there are no coincidences in this story) , he crawled from the icy-grey depths of the Detroit River and declared himself the "Emperor of Zug Island."

He ruled the rusted ghost factories and frozen blast furnaces with a pig-iron fist. His followers would burst through the fog and raid Southern Detroit: emptying liquor stores, stealing women, and causing property values to plummet.

The fearful locals began to describe Planet-Bill's gang as the "Billy Boys." The easiest way to spot a Billy boy is his Military issue M-1 helmet emblazoned with a backwards "B" in bright red and the look of desperation in his ashen face.

The Billy Boys originally got into turf wars with the Detroit division of SCORPIO, who had mid-to-lower Michigan in it's death grip since the late 50's (immortalized in Dennis Coffey and the Detroit Guitar Band’s 1971 smash "Scorpio").

In 1977 SCORPIO and The Billy Boy's set aside their differences and joined forces to destroy rival gang TAURUS (immortalized in Dennis Coffey and the Detroit Guitar Band's 1972 hit "Taurus"). To this day The Billy boys are technically part of SCORPIO but still maintain their own unique culture (including 'knife parties' and homemade rockabillyboy records (vinyl records with Xeroxed covers usually printed on red paper containing a peculiar strand of threatening rockabilly music).

So as the decadent 70's gave way to the conservative 80's, SCORPIO now had two street gangs patrolling the avenues...The white collar psychic mafia of the Werewolves and the Billy Boy's flamboyant thugs...All under the watchful eyes of the diabolical Escorpion.

Tomorrow we discuss the sordid history of the Werewolves not to mention the mP3's of Orion's soul....


Punk rock dating no. 11: The Boss of Us...

All Exposition, All the time:

Manhattan, 1979:

The Libran (Supreme Commander of the House of LIBRA ) was asking for my resignation. This had come as quite an unexpected blow. I had always looked up to the Libran and he was like a father to me.

"But why?"

The Commissioner took a deep inhale of his cheap cigar, "Orion, I understand the trip to the 21st century was a goddamn failure...I'm willing to take responsibility fer that...I tried to explain to LIBRA the telepathic complications that time-slide can cause but try explaining 'Time Dilation ESP 101' to those morons..."

"So they want me to resign?"

"'Fraid so, Orion...Now that the 'Punk rock dating' papers have fallen into SCORPIO's hands, the progress we've made on project 54 is as useless as tits on bacon..."

"Yes," I defended. "They do have the plans, but that doesn't mean they're going to crack Clement's code...Let me at least go back, I can still prevent all this..."

"No, no, no...We can't afford any more time travel... Accept it, the projects over..."

I couldn't accept it. We had come so far. True, I hadn't become the professor of psychic engineering I had set out to be, but that didn't mean we didn't gain important knowledge. With what information I had, the scientists were able to start work on project 54, which was a very plausible way of stopping the H.O.T bomb.

Inspired by Clement's brilliant coding system in "The Disco Dustbowl," we sent Dr. Coorgan to the year 2009 to recruit Mr. Allsworth for our mission. We had Clement hide the research in a clever editorial on dating advice. I considered all of this progress, although the Libran must have seen things differently. Dismantling of our secret headquarters, hidden deep in the decadent velvet V.I.P rooms of Studio 54, had already commenced. I had screwed up one too many times and LIBRA could no longer afford to have their names attached to the project.

 I was now on my own...


Tomorrow's adventure promises more unwelcome surprises, confusing twists, and muddled characterization...


Punk rock dating no. 12: The Supernatural Proctologist...

The Ghosts of Old Detroit:

Walking through the haunted art-deco landscape, it was not uncommon to see the supernatural proctologist fingering the cracks in the crumbling walls, with his dowsing rod in one hand, flashlight in the other.

With a long history of violent and bloody gang wars, Old Detroit was a hotbed of poltergeists, ghouls, gay vampires, and possessed shut-ins.

The famous 1977 battle between SCORPIO & TAURUS alone was responsible for the untimely demise of 577 innocent bystanders, which the Detroit News reported as a staggering 45% of that years ghosts.

This night in 1979, however, the Supernatural Proctologist was hired to fly to the glittering gutters of New York City. He stumbled to the long line in front of the door of Studio 54, where he was instructed to meet me.

"What's your sign?" asked the doorman.

"Excuse me?" huffed S.P. He had no time for discotheque formalities.

"Your SIGN. What is it?" the doorman insisted.

"Uhhhh...Libra," S.P remembered.

"Ah, house of LIBRA. Yes, you are expected..."

The doorman parted the red velvet rope.

S.P wasn't used to seeing such extravagant orgies in sallow Detroit. Maybe a couple copulating in a bathroom stall in the men's room. The sight of a tangle of perfect bodies writhing in a mountain of cocaine to the rhythm of "I Will Survive" was a perfectly alien sight.

This was when "I Will Survive" still had meaning, before the ironic days of karaoke bars. In 1979 the Drag Queens and Dancefloor mavens still gritted their teeth in defiance and welled up with tears of determination as they sang along.

A song that just might save us all.

S.P was even more surprised when he saw my reptilian face approaching him. "You must be the Supernatural Proctologist!"

"Errr....yes. And you are Orion, I take it."

"Yes, does my appearance startle you?"

"No, no...I just figured for a secret agent they would have chosen someone a bit more...discreet in appearance, maybe..."

"Yes, but the best kept secret is the one hidden in plain sight."

"I-I guess," S.P I guessed.

"You do know why I brought you here?" I asked, my scaly eyebrow arched.

"Something about a possible phantom?"

"I believe SCORPIO has a spy in the house of LIBRA. They have thwarted every plan, cracked every code. The only possible explanation is a hired apparition or a maybe a psychic spy, which may explain my frequent nosebleeds," I explained.

"Woah! The ghost maybe...but the psychic spy?! You're going to need to hire someone else! Telepathy is not my specialty..." S.P's insecurities were slow motion pipe bombs at this point.

"Your resume showed you studied the telepathic arts at Wayne State..."

"No," he interrupted, "I minored in Telepathy, my degree is in Phantom Proctology. I'm a terrible psychic!"

It was time to be honest, "Look, you're all I can afford. LIBRA didn't hire you. I did! I am still technically an agent of LIBRA but they're going to force my resignation any day now...I need your help. The entire future of mankind needs your help..."

"Ahhh, what the hell," I-could-use-the-paycheck-ed the Supernatural Proctologist, once again pulling out his dowsing rod in public...


The next exciting chapter promises the grim findings of our new friend S.P and also the abstract algebra of chance encounters...