Apparently, D'Arcy premiered the first act of his disaster-in-waiting to guests at his private estate on Halloween. This is what an entertainment reporter for Le Matin had to say about the plot:
[…] As for "DJ2: Electric Boogaloo": It's set in the fourteenth century on the Mediterranean coast. Don Juan has been rescued from Hell by Doctor Who's TARDIS and promptly abandoned after he attempts to seduce the Doctor's latest companion. Now on the run from a legion of cuckold husbands, dishonored fathers, and irate brothers, Don Juan dons a mask to hide his identity and terrorizes the countryside as "The F@#king Bandit." Soon, after amassing a great fortune from his conquests, he builds himself a hedonistic resort called The Electric Boogaloo. But at night, he crawls into his lair and makes love to an automaton that looks like his lost soul mate, Aminta.
Meanwhile, the real Aminta has fallen on hard times, having been disowned by her peasant family after abandoning her fiancé for Don Juan a year ago. So she's accepted a high-paying gig as an exotic dancer from a mysterious impresario to open a new pleasure palace. On her first night, she draws back the curtain in her suite and comes face to face with her new employer - flash of lightning, crash of chords - Don Juan!
I nearly choked on my corn flakes when I read that.
Your obedient servant,
O.G.
Naomi Watts
My remarkable constitution seems to be failing me as I get older, so I've been stuck down here in my lair with a case of the sniffles. Madame Giry has been down once a week to keep me apprised of current events, but for the most part, I've been lying in my coffin watching dvds.
This "King Kong" film by Peter Jackson is quite good. Mlle. Watts plays a theatre actress who shows great affection and compassion for a misunderstood creature.
And she has really great legs, too.
Your obedient friend,
O.G.
What the hell is a Gerik?
Your obedient servant,
O.G.
All right. Despite my lack of hair and a nose and matching eyes and partially exposed skull and generally skeletal appearance overall, apparently I have a certain je ne sais quoi when it comes to the ladies. This has been statistically proven by several polls taken around the world (which either means I've got a certain somethin' somethin' or there is an alarmingly large number of necrophiliacs out there).
Due to that reputation, I've been receiving several letters from men asking me for advice on how to get the young lady of their dreams. To placate my psychiatrist, I'm compelled to be helpful to these no-game losers at love by occasionally providing lessons on what I've learned here (that's OCCASIONALLY. Don't expect me to be too generous with my advice). Now without further ado, let's begin.
Lesson #1: Establish an avatar.
Don't be yourself. There's a reason why you're forty years old and still living with your parents. No, you must be the person you aspire to be: someone with confidence, poise, and élan. Someone who exudes authority and commands respect. Someone not you, basically.
So how do you be someone you're not? You create a new persona, or avatar. Act like you have the qualities you want and soon you'll convince yourself and others that you do. But an avatar is not only the attitude and personality you project, but physically, it involves wearing one or more accessories that draw attention to you. Anything will do: a particularly unique pendant, uncomfortably tight trousers, an intriguingly stylish mask, etc. The objective is to enhance yourself. Bald? Wear a wig. Short? Wear lifts (hey, it works for Prince. That midget gets all kinds of tail). Once you have your attitude and physical look ready, come up with a new name for yourself. Something like "Magnum," "Eros" or "Vigorous." That way the fragile ego of the *real* you is protected and you can claim anonymity when women shoot you down and then run home to blog about you on the internets.
The avatar goes hand-in-hand with "peacocking": parading around in whatever get-up you've chosen for the purpose of drawing the attention of women (but hopefully not the "pointing and laughing" sort of attention), but more on that later. Oh, and bonus points if you already know what sort of persona the object of your desire… desires. If it isn't a stretch for your personality, go ahead and mold yourself towards that avatar and you'll be a step ahead of the game.
So messieurs, go through your closets or head down to the department store and make yourselves over. Once you feel you have your avatar down, send me a picture or video of yourself and I'll use it to blackmail you later grade you on your approach.
Thus endeth the lesson.
Your obedient friend,
O.G. (aka The Angel of Music)
There have been many stories written about me over the years. Novels, plays, moving pictures, et cetera, et cetera. And as time has gone on, it seems that my legend has been twisted and manipulated into something that is not. So I felt that I should set some ground rules for everyone as to who I am. But I do enjoy an air of mystery about me, so I will only define myself by what I am NOT.
1. I am NOT young.
2. I am NOT sexy (there is a difference between "sexy" and "sensual").
3. I did NOT receive my disfigurement from acid or fire.
4. I did NOT spend my formative years living in the bowels of the opera house.
5. I do NOT stick rats down my trousers.
6. I do NOT have a sex doll made in Christine's likeness.
7. I do NOT run an amusement park in America.
Your obedient servant,
O.G.
Sasha Saint-Léonard.
Your obedient friend,
O.G.
Christine Daaé
A divine singer, a consummate actress, and she can do things with an apple that now cause me to blush whenever I pass by a fruit stand.
It's fortunate I swapped out the banana before rehearsals began.
Your obedient friend,
O.G.
