While she doesn’t give her name, her Twitter bio/handle already gives me more than enough information to discern her identity–even BEFORE launching into her trademark diatribes. Remember a wordy Glambert from Florida? A Libertarian Glambert from Florida? (Do I even need to mention her salt-dough artistry and law degree? What about her accomplishments as a hard-nosed, muckraking journalist determined to unveil the vast political conspiracy behind the eighth season of American Idol?)

That’s right, folks. Ms. Kerry Kolsch is back. Well…it is not as if she ever left. She’s still in Florida, typing furiously, calling out all those bastards who dare not share her beliefs and opinions. Lesbehonest, this tried-and-true sapphic sweetheart sounds like a regular Tea Partier, no? And criticizing Rachel Maddow? DOWNRIGHT HOMOPHOBIC. Downright homophobic if I ascribe to Glambert-think, no? Oh wait. It only counts if I’m do not say the sun rises & sets because of Adam Lambert…

But it’s good to see our girl taking politics again. Ron Paul, right sweetie? Ron Paul really is the only GOP candidate who makes sense on the majority of issues, yet my biggest problems with him have been his confusing stances on well, anything involving being gay. Before voting to repeal, he did openly support Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, as well as the Defense of Marriage Act. Yes, Paul believes same-sex unions should not be under federal jurisdiction, however, he does think this matter can be decided by the states. And for someone who thinks we should the government should not impose much of anything on its people, Paul is vehemently pro-life and considers abortion a state matter–yet he voted affirmatively to impose a federal ban on partial birth abortions. So tell me, Ms. Kolsch, since you’re such a strong-willed lesbian, how can you not consider any of this when you blindly support a candidate?

Kerry Kolsch, you are the internet. I’ve missed you so. Funny, you got me excited about writing a new post! You know you love me. You know you want me to visit your farm. I really love local farming, did you know this about me? Probably just another thing I like in an attempt to be cool. Speaking me trying to be cool, I am sooooo disappointed I never ran into your Glam God in Black Rock City this year, but who knows, maybe I did and just wasn’t paying attention. I’m happy for the guy. One week in paradise away from the likes of batshit crazy fans? Where no one really cares who you are? Hell, homeboy could even afford an RV this year. And the weather was just fabulous. FABULOUS. Nary a dust storm and only a couple of chilly nights.

Spread the word. Do it.

Lady, you’re the one who has to live with it. But I’ve got no business telling you how to spend your money or what to do with your body, and if this stimulates the sluggish economy in some small way, then it might be a good thing.

Oh who the hell am I kidding?

Spread the word. Do it.

Are you brave? Then check it out after the jump.

GLAMBERT TARD ART UNLIKE ANY OTHER

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Dear Glamdiary,

Oh, Glamdiary, I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you to turn to. Today started out as a wonderful day and quickly went downhill. I woke up bright and early and excited and headed to Piggly Wiggly to pick up the new Glambulge from the bakery. As I got out of my car (it’s FINALLY dried out) and walked towards the store, I dropped my cell phone right in front of a boy who must have only been about 7 or 8.

As my wallpaper, I have the picture from the Glamnation tour of Adam standing tall, the spiked codpiece enhancing the Massive Glambulge, his tongue sticking out–prepared to tongue dive the entire world, and his middle finger erect & proud, telling all the haters and homephobes to go to hell. The boy picked up my phone, looked at it, and we had a wonderful conversation (I wish my grandkids were HALF as cool and smart as this kid):

Boy: Who’s that Rock Star?
Me: That’s Adam Lambert, do you know who he is?
Boy: Yes, he’s really famous, one of the most famousest Rock Stars ever, right?
Me: Yep, that’s him!
Boy: How come he’s more famouser than that boy who won?
Me: I don’t know, what do you think?
Boy: I think Adam is just a better singer and can hit those high notes better than anyone!
Me: (oh, from the mouths of babes!) I think you’re right!!
Boy: I hear him on the radio all the time.
Me: Me too! I used to have 350 copies of his CD!
Boy: Why so many?
Me: Because I love Adam and his music, and getting Adam to Platinum is the only thing that’s important to me!
Boy: That is pretty important! Why does he have metal spiky things on his pee-pee?
Me: That’s part of his outfit, that’s what rock stars wear! Only REAL rock stars wear spiky things on their pee-pees!
Boy: I hope I can wear a spiky thing on my pee-pee when I get older!
Me: Keep practicing and you will!
Boy: I like that he’s got his middle finger up. My dad says that’s rock and roll! His favorite rock star is Steven Tyler.
Me: I think your dad is right about rock and roll! Who is your favorite rock star?
Boy: I don’t know, but I think it’s going to be Adam Lambert!!
Me: **smile **

The boy handed me back my phone and ran to catch up to his mom and little sister. Then he danced right there in the parking lot, singing at the top of his little lungs while writhing up against his mother’s leg “Baby I’m in control take the pain take the pleasure I’m master of both, I’m here for your entertainment”, then he grabbed his little sister and tongue dived her, grabbed his little crotch and threw his mother the middle finger! How precious! I wanted to pick up this little BB in the making and take him home! After that, I walked on to the store feeling pretty good about the kids today. Except of course for my own grandkids who care NOTHING of my beautiful BB golden child.

As I was almost to the front of the store, a very angry Muriel steps out and comes towards me, red hot anger in her eyes. “Muriel, what’s wrong?” She looked at me like she hated me, Glamdiary! “What’s wrong? You have the NERVE to ask ME what’s wrong? My nephew is Larry, he fills in for JoAnn when she’s off. He usually doesn’t do the cakes, he just takes the orders until JoAnn gets back. He told me of this crazy lady who wanted a picture of someone’s penis on a cake! I KNEW that was you, so I asked if your name was Carol, and he said yes! I knew you shouldn’t have been trusted to be the first to take home the Glambulge, I KNEW IT! You’re not fit to take care of something so precious, and I don’t think you’re even worthy of being Glambergranny #2!!”

Well, I had heard just about enough. I, of all people, am MORE than worthy to be a Glambergranny. I should be Glambergrany #1!! Muriel, this skinny skeleton whore who prances around in her size 14 jeans and Eye of Horus t-shirt like she’s hot shit, wearing that silver and diamond necklace that says #1 just to rub it in my face, the way she talks like SHE loves BB more than me, well, that was enough! No way in hell I would let her tell me that I’m not a good fan of BB! BB is my life, I put him above EVERYONE. All of the anger from the past few days boiled over, and I reached out and grabbed that Eye of Horus shirt and ripped it right off the skeleton whore’s back! She looked down, and realized she was completely topless!! Everyone in the parking lot was laughing at her, and she ran off to her car crying and embarrassed, then yelled out to me “This isn’t over, Carol. You DON’T DESERVE to be Glambergranny #2” and she sped off.

I was shaken, Glamdiary, but I wasn’t going to let that skeleton whore ruin MY morning. I had the Glambulge to look forward to! I walked back to the bakery, and there was that pin head Larry leaning against the bakery cake picking something out of his teeth while talking on his phone. “Excuse me” I said, and rang the little bell. He didn’t even look at me, he just went on talking and picking. I rang the bell angrily “EXCUSE ME!” and he looked over at me. He actually had the nerve to roll his eyes at me! Some customer service! He asked me what I wanted and I told him I was here to pick up my BB’s Glambulge that I had ordered yesterday. His eyes lit up and he smiled, “Oh, yeah, I remember you, hang on a second” and he went to the back of the bakery then came back with a box. I was SO excited to see the new Glambulge that I got that tingly feeling down there in my lady parts, like I always do when I think of the Glambulge. He put the box on the top of the bakery case and said “There you go”.

Glamdiary, I could barely contain myself and I was shaking! I picked up the box, lifted the lid and was HORRIFIED! I looked at the cake and it looked nothing at all like BB’s Glambulge, that beautiful bulge that fills my every waking minute. It was a sloppy piece of cake, with yellow icing, and a poorly drawn penis on top. It looked like a 5 year old child drew it! It was like a cartoon penis I’ve seen that Perez Hilton draw on people when I go to his site to defend BB from the homephobes! I was LIVID. I looked at Larry who was back there laughing like it was a joke! I ran behind the bakery counter and took out every one of those cakes and threw them at Larry, the jelous, hating homophobe that he is.

All of a sudden, the manager grabbed me by the arm and said “Oh, it’s YOU. You RUINED my canned good aisle, now you’ve ruined my bakery, GET OUT OF MY STORE!! You are NEVER to come back to this Piggly Wiggly as long as I’m manager!!” Well, I couldn’t believe it! I’ve been banned from the Piggly Wiggly! He took a picture of me with his cell phone “to put on the wall of shame”, he said, then pushed me out the door! I have NEVER been so humiliated in my life. I yelled “BUT HE RUINED MY GLAMBULGE! MY PRECIOUS BB’S GLAMBULGE”, all the other customers looking at me like I was crazy. It was one of the worst things I’ve ever experienced, those homephobes and haters don’t deserve my money! I’ll shop somewhere else, but not before I go home and make some signs. I’m going to come back here and picket this place in BB’s honor. I was going to boycott this store anyway. Oh, BB, why can’t the rest of the world be as kind and as loving as you?

I finally made it home, tears in my eyes and my heart broken, no Glambulge cake, no more Piggly Wiggly and no more Muriel. I do have you, Glamdiary, and I have BB. I also got the Master Card out of Mother’s wallet, she won’t miss it, she doesn’t even know what day it is half the time. It only has a credit limit of $2,000, so I figure if I can find BB’s CD online somewhere for $12 or less, I can get at least 166 copies! That’ll push BB that much closer to Platinum! He deserves it more than anyone, he’s the hardest working man in music today. So, I still have that to look forward to, and the Grammys, too. We all know BB will win that! How can he not? People have to be deaf to not think he has the greatest voice of anyone out there today.

DLS Minion #84

Got to go, Glamdiary, Mother is trying to spoon feed the cat creamed corn again. MOTHER, CATS DON’T EAT CREAMED CORN!! Honestly, if she weren’t my mother…..

I love you, Glamdiary!

Love, Carol
AKA
Glambergranny #2
Glamskank #458
Glambert #255
Glambulge Lover #29
Keeper of the Glamunderpants #77
GlamballsLicker #221

Spread the word. Do it.

No, Super Sachiko. I almost blocked her/him because trolls often come in here and post things like this just to rile up gullible fans and make fools out of them. That’s all. Earlier today I was defending Glamberts in general to a member of the RIAA, who thought you guys were friggin’ internet terrorists based on the over-the-top behavior of a small minority of pushy know-it-alls. Part of my job entails not allowing Adam to be associated with this kind of behavior, lest it hurt his career. If I have to cut out the cancerous cells to save the body, I will. Thanks for understanding.

Spread the word. Do it.

That’s right. Our beloved “Carol” will now be sharing her GLAMDIARY with us — now with illustrations from our very own DEEZ.

Happy Super Bowl Sunday! ENJOY

Feb 6
Dear Glamdiary:
I just got Mother settled in the tub to soak, so I thought I’d tell you how my day was. Today was a very good day, I had a full body awakening! I decided today would be the day I would try to get back everything that I’ve lost over these past few days. I’ve been empty inside, playing “FYE” over and over again from the hard drive of my computer, tears flowing nonstop. I’ve been inconsolable, like my beautiful BB has been ripped from my grasp by haters and homephobes. Well, today is the day I decided to change all that. My daughter Donna had a farewell luncheon today for my 19 year old grandson Ryan, he’s being deployed to Afghanistan for 18 months. I really wish I could have made it, but I had SO much to do today. It’s not like I won’t ever see him again, and if I ever get time I’ll box him up a care package and put in a dozen or so copies of “FYE” for the boys in his unit to enjoy. Spread the love, that’s my motto!!

First thing was first, I went to the Piggly Wiggly to get JoAnn to make me another Glambulge. I figured while I was there, I could pick up a few groceries, and get Mother the creamed corn and butterscotch candies she likes, even though I’m still upset with her for driving my car into the pond and ruining my BB’s CD. I get my cart and head to the canned goods aisle, and all of a sudden I hear the unmistakable sound of “WWFM” playing through the supermarket speakers!!! I couldn’t believe my luck!! I stopped right there by the cans of green beans and early peas, closed my eyes, swaying back and forth, and sang loud and proud for the entire store to hear! As I’m swaying and singing the line “baby you’re beautiful and it’s nothing wrong with you, it’s me I’m a freak” (I’m CONVINCED Adam wrote that line for me!!), I feel a strong tingling sensation down there in my little girl parts. As I’m singing, the tingling turns into a burning ache, and I thrust my hips up against the grocery cart, the need so strong…. “It messed me up, need a second to breathe”…I’m bucking my hips and singing the passion as loud as I can…cans of French cut green beans falling at my feet…my whole body taken over in this beautiful passion…I scream out “Whattya want from me!!!”, my knees weaken and I held onto the cart so tight my hands turned deep red. I slowly open my eyes to see the stock boy staring at me, his mouth hanging wide open and a look of fear in his eyes. As I walked towards him, he dropped his price gun and ran off faster than I had ever seen anyone run! One day he’ll understand this kind of passion! It was AMAZING, Glamdiary! My body is ALIVE!!

I bent down and picked up a couple of cans of creamed corn off the floor and put them in the now well used cart and headed over to the bakery. JoAnn was off today, and they had some halfwit named Larry taking cake orders. I explain to Larry that I want a small cake, just big enough for him to airbrush my BB’s Glambulge on, and I took out the picture of the original cake and a pic of BB’s beautiful Glambulge. I told Larry that BB is an almost Platinum selling (if Operation Platinum is a success!!!) ARTIST, the greatest Rock God in the World, and that I would like his penis bulge airbrushed on a small cake. Larry, the ignorant fool that he was, looked at me like I was a woman who had lost her mind and said “Let me get this straight, you want ME to draw some gay dude’s wanker on a piece of sheet cake for you? What kind of guy do you think I am?” I told him I could happily take my cake order to the Piggly Wiggly on the other side of town, and he reluctantly took my order and the picture of the Glambulge and told me it would be ready tomorrow morning. I told him he had better get it right, and he looked at me sideways almost as if he hated me. How could he hate me? He doesn’t even know me. I think he was just a tad jellous of the magnificence of the Glambulge and probably a bit of a homephobe, too.

So, Glamdiary, I’m well on my way to getting the broken pieces of my life back together. The Glambulge will be done tomorrow, I’m going to look into making another Glampenis Candle, and I have to find a way to restock my supply of “FYE” CD’s. That one might be a tricky one, as I’ve maxed out 2 of Stanley’s credit cards supporting BB. I’ll have to figure something out, Operation Platinum is well underway and I have to do my part!!! Oh, Jesus, Glamdiary, I have to go. Mother somehow got out of the tub and is wandering around the neighbor’s front yard. Mother! MOTHER!! GET BACK IN HERE AND PUT YOUR ROBE ON!! THE NEIGHBORS DON’T WANT TO SEE THAT!! Honestly, this woman is going to put me in the nut house. Why can’t she ever just stay put??

I love you, Glamdiary, and I LOVE YOU BB, my Beautiful Golden Child! My Beautiful BB Golden Child who awakened my body and my soul!! Hopefully I’ll have more happy news after I pick up the new Glambulge from the Piggly Wiggly tomorrow morning!!

Love, Carol
AKA
Glambergranny #2
Glamskank #458
Glambert #255
Glambulge Lover #29
Keeper of the Glamunderpants #77
GlamballsLicker #221
DLS Minion #84

(ETA: I’m happy to announce that Glamdiary will now be illustrated!
Thanks TopIdol, deez, and all my devoted readers!)

Spread the word. Do it.

There were birthday tributes near and far—including one from Nashville.

And Peruvian Glamberts!

How did the Glamberts hosting Adam Lambert Birthday Parties celebrate? In different ways, I imagine, but there was one constant—They baked birthday cakes. Or had professional bakers bake cakes. I like cake. I might eat a Glambert cake if someone offered me a piece…but only if it was not laden with PURPLE and BLACK icing. I love purple and black as colors. I loathe purple & black as icing.

Take a trip and fall into the glitter…In Philadelphia, Glamberts made a big cake stage for their lord & savior (From a blog called Adam Quote Daily). Again, WTF IS A GOLDEN BIRTHDAY? I turned 29 once. I have friends who turned 29. I have friends who will be turning 29. I have friends that turned 29 a long time ago. I have never heard something 29th birthday be called GOLDEN?

In Oregon, they ate cake and drank champagne! And wore big Lambert-y cuffs around their wrists.

This cake was from the OHIO GLAMBERT PARTY. It’s a whole-lotta something, no? How much do you want to bet several of them fought for the bottom right corner? JUST TO TASTE HIS GLAMTONGUE?

This girl was excited she got the slice of cake featuring the infamous GLAMBULGE. But the money went to charity. I assume they were “auctioning” off Lambert’s body parts.

My girl wants to party all the time party all the time party all the time…

I do appreciate the DIY approach, although I think it is important we discuss whether or not baking one yourself or spending a fair amount of cash on one…which Glambert is the bigger Glambert? The DIY cake below was probably for a more low-key celebration. The one seen above was probably for one of those planned-in-advance-since-last-July celebrations where there was talk about about eating edgy pasta and having cute area gay boys dress up for an Adam Lambert Lookalike Pageant. (I swear something like this went on in Georgia last night. But pics or it didn’t happen!)

I think most cake-writing should have some sort of character limit like the Twitter, but with no option to Twit Longer.

You know what is better than cake? CUPCAKES. Because CUPCAKES ARE TRENDY AND COOL.

Glamberts with discretionary income…will we see this on the next episode of I Have Sextuplets And Used to Hoard But Now I’m the Boss of Cakes?

I’m all about the artistry, especially if layered with a delicate dark chocolate ganache.

This is a little too frou-frou for my tastes. It’s also a PIE! Or something from the CHEESECAKE FACTORY. I want to believe this was created by a local bakery, but I imagine it was picked up at Tippin’s or Cheesecake Factory and then someone made the fancy decoration from their scrapbooking stuff.

I imagine this was made for a very small party, which would explain why its just one girl and Lambert affixed to buttercream. This also looks as if it were originally designed for a baby shower. Discuss.

This one is my favorite. I love to experiment in the kitchen and I screw up a lot. I don’t know if I could do better and I’ve never tried real cake decorating, but I sense this one may have been picked up at Costco and then decorated on the spot. If I was the cake decorator at Costco filling in for experienced cake decorator Sally who was sick with the flu and snowed in with her 4 whiny brats, I would be stressed, too. Especially if I had a Glambert yelling at me over the counter about how my Eye of Horus wasn’t Horus-y enough and how I needed to more artistically implement it into 2-9. Yikes. TIME FOR A CIGARETTE. SALLY BETTER NEVER LEAVE ME IN A JAM LIKE THIS EVER AGAIN! SHE MADE ME SCREENPRINT THIS WOMAN’S BAD TATTOO ONTO A CAKE!

But this one may take TOP PRIZE upon closer inspection. At first I thought it was just a…red candle. SILLY ME! It’s THE GLAMBULGE EXPOSED! THE GLAMDICK!

There’s nothing better than fantard desserts! Have any favorites of your own? Would you ever bake a cake for someone’s birthday who would not actually be at the party because they did not know you and would never attend your party?

EVEN MORE!

From Hong Kong. KONGBERTS. I’m having trouble snarking on these kids. Lamberts fans tend to skew younger once you leave these parts. I still don’t understand why you would have a birthday party for someone you don’t know, though.

From Brazil! Some of this reminds me of that Chat Roulette.

Those Dallas Glamberts have too much money to spend. You know what people in Dallas are like. Just because they’re from Texas or something.

Glamberts in Ottowa prefer keeping it simple, eh? Except for that damned top hat.

Speaking of that damned top hat, me thinks this is one you can’t put away when the party is over.

Spread the word. Do it.

Nancy, please don’t do this. Now she’s going to feature YOU in her “articles” using her twisted version of textual analysis. Because YOU like Adam Lambert and your father is one of the greatest vocalists in the history of the world, this just…have you read her, uh, investigative reports yet? I mean, did you know Adam Lambert is the KING OF ALL SOCIAL MEDIA and was Tweeted about more than anyone in 2010?? (Um…do you spell Adam Lambert J-U-S-T-I-N-B-I-E-B-E-R?) Also, when was Lambert Tweeting about Haiti?

The mainstream media was probably startled when headlines claimed that Adam Lambert was loved more than anything on Twitter and even bested ice cream. The American media seems to have missed the fact that according to Google Adam Lambert is drawing the attention of millions of people at such a level that only seven people in the world of celebrity compare to him. Numbers do not lie. Amplicate.com a firm that collects opinions and analyzes data named Adam Lambert the most loved social media topic of 2010. Then Alok Choudhary and his team at Northwestern University in Illinois analyzed the biggest trends on Twitter last year and how Twitter influenced news stories. Choudhary found that, “For the topic of Haiti … singer Adam Lambert was the most influential tweeter.”

Adam Lambert bloggers Juneau and Zena wrote an article titled, Adam Lambert, the Social Media Phenomenon and asked, “How to explain the mainstream media ignorance of this phenomenon?” I do know how to explain it because I have been researching all aspects of Adam Lambert for the last two years. When I wrote my book “American Idol Vote Scam” it began with 33 pages of social media and marketing data that identified Lambert’s social media dominance during the American Idol competition. I am not rehashing old events but explaining why what happened then is relevant now.

Ok, Nancy. Since because of you there is one song I can do at karaoke and not offend the masses with my completely lack of vocal ability, I’ve got your back. I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough what you’re dealing with. Oh, and Kerry Kolsch? My offer still stands, but I guess you’re too CHICKEN. You. Me. A debate for the masses via Skype. I thought you can prove me (and everyone else) wrong? So why you scared? ARE YOU CHICKEN?

Spread the word. Do it.

The holiday season is in full swing and I thought everyone would love a little gift…perhaps some genuine tard fic? Everyone loves skimming ridiculous tard fic and I have received one such masterpiece I think all of you will enjoy. This tard fic, well, it’s a good thing.

So that’s the title. Which makes you think of Martha Stewart, right? Awesome. We’re halfway there. The other player in this sauteed saga of sex and seduction is none other than…Taylor Hicks.

It’s also a bit NC-17, is terribly written, and the author seems to be confused about punctuation in many cases. So…enjoy! (Oh. And there are also SEAMEN. SEAMEN. SEAMEN.)

It’s A Good Thing

Taylor had been doing the press junket promoting his new record for weeks now. When he walked onto the set of Martha Stewart, the smell of eucalyptus and fresh baked cookies permeated the air in the spacious well lit studio.

He had never seen such a gorgeous studio, and a staff that made you feel as if you were home.

The staff made it perfectly clear to Taylor and his entourage that they worked for the guests first, and Martha second. Martha insisted on nothing less.

As Taylor and his band and a few friends, took their coats off and made themselves comfortable, one of Martha’s producers came waltzing in, bogged down with gift bags. She placed the gift bags on a coffee table, and scanned the room counting heads. “1,2,3.. how many of there are you?” She questioned.

Taylor smiled and answered eight. As the producer hurriedly disappeared into the back room to gather a few more bags, Gray Charles and his wife were already grabbing theirs checking out the goods.

“Doug, Jesus man, can’t you wait till she at least brings the rest of ‘em?” Taylor asked.

“Ummm oh yeah, sorry Taylor.” Gray answered as he lightly slapped his wife’s hand, who was digging in her bag of treasures.

More apron clad staff adorning chef hats rolled through the door with carts of every kind of breakfast food imaginable, as they all picked their favorites.

Taylor filled his plate with hot out of the oven croissants, cookies and took a glass of orange juice, while others feasted on eggs benedict and coffee.

The smells of all the foods, spices and the like made Taylor long for home. To him, it smelled like the holidays should.

“Taylor! Do you mind doing a quick audio blog for the site?” Doug asked, licking his mimosa mustache.

“Doug, for God sakes, can I just eat in peace? I just did one last night. Go around and talk to the band will ya please.”

Taylor thought to himself, ‘I gotta find a way to get rid of this pain in my fucking ass.’

Mouths full, Taylor and the rest of his posse turned when they heard a loud banging noise coming from the kitchen. ‘Was that yelling he heard?’ Taylor thought.

“I told you people THIS is not the right kind of twine for the wreath segment!” Martha screamed, shaking the ball of twine at her staff.

Sniffing the greenery, Martha shook the bundle of eucalyptus and screamed that was also the wrong eucalyptus, the kind she wanted was the seasonal kind.

Taylor chuckled to himself, he had no fucking idea there were different kinds of eucalyptus. For all he knew, eucalyptus was the shit they put in cough drops.

As Martha raged on, Taylor smiled. He was quite amused and intrigued by her.

Taylor nudged Doug and whispered; “Hey Doug, she’s kinda hot for an old broad, she’s pretty fucking fiesty ya know.”

Doug shook his head in disbelief. “Taylor, dude are you serious?”

Taylor quickly “Shh’d’ Doug. He was totally enthralled with Martha.

Martha walked proudly, with her best Miss America posture into the green room. She stopped at the doorway and clasped her hands.

“Welcome, welcome to my show. I see you’ve made yourselves comfortable. Is everything cooked to your satisfaction?”

Taylor swallowed his last bite of english muffin and stood to greet her.

“Yes, yes, thank you. Thanks so much for havin us. Your set is beautiful, and your hospitality is so generous.”

Martha shook Taylor’s hand a nano second longer than she normally would have with any other guest. She thought to herself how very southern and devilishly charming this premature graying young man was.

“Mr. Hicks. I’m so happy to have you. I must be honest, I am not really a fan of American Idol, but my staff kept talking about ‘Taylor Hicks, Taylor Hicks’ so, I watched a tape of you dancing like a whirling dervish and playing that harmonica. I just knew I had to have you on then! You are fantastic!”

“Thank you Martha, Thank you!” Taylor smiled. He felt like an ass. He was star struck. He felt like such a fan boy. Now, he knew how Doug felt.

“I’m sorry that you had to witness me yelling at my staff, but, they always seem to get something wrong. Taylor, you and I are going to make a wreath together. You don’t have an aversion to heights do you?”

Taylor answered as he looked into her cold dead eyes. Somehow he was turned on.

“Ummm.. no M’am… not at all… why?”

“Oh, I would like you to hang a swag at the end of a segment.”

Taylor grinned from ear to ear. “Ha! You hear that guys? I’m gonna hang a swag with Martha!”

Martha spun around on one heel turning to leave the room, “Taylor, I took the liberty to lay out a nice shirt for you. It’s in your dressing room.”

Taylor felt himself getting hard looking at Martha’s ass leaving the room and oh, how he loved domineering women. He waved her off and thanked her for the shirt.

After Taylor finished eating, he was led away by more staff into a secluded dressing room. The dressing room was nicer than most people’s homes. Candles burned on every available flat surface.

As his eye adjusted, he saw the brown starched shirt Martha had mentioned hanging in the closet. He looked at the label.. “Hmmm Hugo Boss. Nice taste Martha”

A slight tap on the door and Martha let herself in, standing in the door jam she asks Taylor if he likes the shirt.

“Why thank you m’am the shirt is really nice.”

“Go ahead Taylor try it on.”

He removed the sweater he had on and was about to put on the Hugo Boss, he felt her eyes staring at him, God why did this turn him on so much. Taylor felt his pants begin to tighten on his crotch. Damn he couldn’t let Martha Stewart see that she had given him a hard on.

“Taylor, I may call you Taylor?” She smiles at him and lowered her eyelashes.

“Martha is flirting with me, damn.” Taylor thought and involuntarily hoped from foot to foot.

“Of course please call me Taylor, ma’am”

“Damn Taylor doesn’t call her ma’am. Shit, you fucked up you dork. Damn” His thoughts were beginning to show on his face.

“Please Taylor,” She walked closer and ran her hand up and down his bare arm, “Don’t call me ma’am call me Martha.”

All he could do was smile, a shy embarrassed smile.

“You know, Taylor, I think that shirt would look better with something dark underneath, something like this.” She produced a chocolate t-shirt made form the softest cotton he had ever felt.

“Why thank you, ma ……. I mean Martha, you have such good taste,” Damn I am acting like a fucking fan girl and I’m think she is so fucking hot.

“You know Martha, my Grandma Joni just loves you, and she watches everyday. She is so excited I’m here.”

Martha tried to feign interest in Taylor’s little down home tale, but mostly she focused on his naked, hairy chest.

“My notes say that you recently lost weight, good job, you look fabulous.” She let her hand drift across his chest and down to his navel.

Taylor was so hard he thought he might pop some buttons on his new jeans.

Martha boldly moved her hand down a bit more until it rested on his erection. She looked him in the eye and licked her lips.

He thought he was going to burst at that moment, fuck she was rubbing him.

“I’m getting rubbed off by Martha.” God his mind was going wild.

“You know Taylor, I think I would like a little taste of that,” She began to unbutton his jeans.

It didn’t take much for his swollen cock to make an appearance.

“Look at that like a big juicy kielbasa. I love kielbasa.”

Martha took off her sweater and folded it neatly, and then she removed her lipstick.

“Don’t want to seaman on my sweater or lipstick on your penis. Do we?”

“No, Martha we don’t want that.” Taylor felt light headed like all the blood in his brain was now in his dick.

“You didn’t need to answer, it was a rhetorical question.” Martha shook her head. “Now go stand that step stool over there.”

Taylor looked at her quizzically.

“What, I want you to stand where I can get a good gripe on your juicy monster and Martha Stewart goes on her knees for no one.”

Taylor did as he was told and was rewarded by the feel of Martha’s lips on him, then she took him in her mouth and sucked slow and steady.

“I’m getting my dick suck by Martha, I’m getting my dick sucked by Martha” was the mantra playing in his head.

Martha put on her sweater, straightened her hair, kissed Taylor on the mouth, and walked out the door. He could hear her shouting in the hall.

“Do we have the right twine yet, folks? And can someone please get me some mouth wash.” Her voice trailed off as she moved down the hall.

Taylor looked down at his now flaccid penis.

“Damn this is the best gig, cookies and a blow job”

Taylor walked back into the green room trying hard not to grin from hear to hear.

“Hey Doug, I’ll add something to that audio blog if you like”

“Really Taylor, great I’ll get the recorder.” He fumbled to his feet leaving behind a dust storm of crumbs.

The sax played looked at Taylor, “What put you in such a good fucking mood.”

“Let’s just say I got the holiday spirit,”

******************************************************************************

Taylor had finished his song and was taking one last tour of the Green Room looking for snacks, when Martha came in behind him.

“Well Taylor we’ve had some day, haven’t we”

He loved the way she looked him straight in the eye never flinched no embarrassment in those cold bitch eyes. But her mouth that was something else his dick got hard just thinking about it.

“Taylor, can you come back on the set for a minute, I need you to hang more garland. She smiled at him

“Well I need to get to MTV otherwise I would love to help you out.” Taylor stuffed some more cookies in his backpack.

“That wasn’t a request it was a demand, now get your cute little Alabama’s ass back on set.” She looked him dead on, “Now!”

Taylor had no choice he followed her meekly, God he loved strong women.

Martha rolled up her sleeves and started putting together a bundle of greenery. She slapped it against her hand and winced a bit. “That will do nicely.” She said aloud.

Taylor was standing there with his hands in his pockets he loved watching Martha, she made him hard.

“Hicks, get over here and put your hands out in front of your, like this” She clasped her hands together, fingers intertwined.

Taylor hesitated and looked quizzically at the women in front of him.

“Do it now, Hicks, I have a diner party this evening. Damn, you would never survive behind bars.

Taylor did as he was told, and Martha tied his hand together nice and tight, then she hiked him across the counter securing the end of the twine to the draw pull.

Looking at his jean clad ass, she smiled and reached around his waist and undoing his belt and buttons pushing them to the floor. “Now that’s better,”

Taylor felt a cool breeze blow across his ass he had worn some flimsy silk boxers today and had a real bad feeling he was going to regret that decision.

“Now Taylor we had a little fun back in the dressing room, didn’t we” She moved her hand across his silk clad bottom.

“Yes, Martha”, he swallowed hard.

“And I made you feel good, didn’t I Taylor?” She gave his right butt check a hard slap

“Yes, Martha” Damn that hurt he thought.

“And what did I get in return, I’ll tell you what nothing.”

“I thought you were in a hurry. I mean, I don’t know I was confused. I was getting my dick sucked by fucking Martha Stewart. I’m sorry; can I make it up to you now?” Taylor was straining on the rope to look over his shoulder at her.

“You were going to leave me high and dry and frustrated. That is very naughty.”

“Martha, I’m sorry really”

“When my daughter was young and naughty she got a spanking, but I let her choose what I would spank her with, “She opened the drawer next to her and took out a spatula.”

“Damn, thought Taylor, “I am in big trouble here.”

“So Taylor do you want your spanking with the bunch of eucalyptus or the spatula.”

He could not believe he was actually thinking this question out as to the better option.

“Come on Taylor, I need an answer. Don’t make pull down those cute shorts of your and give it to you on your bare ass.”

“Spatula, use the fucking spatula.”

“No need to curse that just got you five more swats.”

Taylor waited with trepidation for the first stroke, but when it came, it hurt like a mother.

Martha was relentless she cover every inch of his upturned ass with a hard smacks. Taylor hadn’t gotten a whipping’ like this since Grandma Joni found him smoking behind the house. He was standing for two days with that one.

“Hicks I told you I wanted you to sing Georgia, and you did ‘The Runaround’ That’s gonna cost you three more licks.”

God Damnit that hurt, he thought, but it made his dick harder than ever.

Taylor continued to look over his shoulder at his capture, and wince in delight.

“Who told you that you could look at me Bama boy.”

Three more licks.

Taylor didn’t know how much more he could stand, before he burst.

As she slapped him two more times with her namesake branded spatula, his gutteral groans were getting louder.

“You like that don’t ya Hicks?” He thought her voice was a sexy combination of a 800- number whore and Cruella Deville. God damnit, how he loved it.

Picking up the bundle of eucalyptus, she waved it under his nose. “You like that smell huh?’

“Yes, Martha” He obeyed.

She gave him one last switch with the bundle of eucalyptus and told him he took it like man.

Then he heard her heeled footsteps walking away, and he was still bent over the counter and his hands tied. He tried struggle and wiggle loose.

“Martha! Where are you goin’?”

Two minutes later she was behind him again with a tray of ice and taking cubes out one by one.

“Now Mr. Hicks. it’s a well known fact that if you apply ice immediately to the affected area, it’ll reduce the swelling and tenderness.”

As she lowered his silky boxers, she made figure eights with the ice cube and purposely brushed the bottom of his ball sack.

Taylor moaned so loud that it bellowed through the studio.

“Now Mr. Hicks, if you continue to be so noisy, I’ll have to punish you again.”

Taylor shivered, yet he remained aroused;

“Sorry Martha, it’s just that the ice cubes are really cold, but somehow…”

“Somehow what Taylor?” Martha purred.

Taylor was embarrassed as he whispered “Sensual.”

“Well Mr. Hicks, sensual isn’t exactly what I would call it, but, it’s turning me on even more that you’re so turned on.” Martha gave his balls another light squeeze from behind.

Taylor couldn’t contain his guttural moans once again. “Oh my God Martha.. please….”

“Please what Taylor.. what is it you want?” She continued to taunt him in the most erotic fashion.

Taylor’s breathing was raspy. “I wanna fuck you.. I wanna fuck you dirty rotten..”

Taylor and Martha heard footsteps approaching.

Taylor struggled against the tether, trying to wiggle his hands free. “Fuck Martha… someone’s comin’.”

Doug walked in and stopped short, leaving his wife that was shadowing behind him, to run into him, causing them both to stumble slightly. Doug swallowed hard. Mrs. Doug gasped. They couldn’t believe the site before them.

Thinking quick, Doug reached for his cell phone, nonchalantly stood in front of Taylor and snapped his picture in this compromising position.

“Now Taylor, you think you wanna talk to J. Records for me about extending my contract on the blog?” Doug’s green teeth snarled over his Stephen King look alike lips.

Taylor was seething, he fought with all his might to get loose.

“Doug you fucking bastard! Get back here now!”

Doug grabbed his wife who was still gasping and giggling and said.. “You, get in the dressing room and get those big bloomers off now!”

Taylor continued to hurl a tapestry of obscenities in the direction of the door Doug slipped through.

“Martha! Untie me now!”

Martha bent to whisper; “Mr. Hicks you truly are a very naive young man aren’t you.”

Still wiggling, Taylor asks; “Martha did you see what he just did? He just took my fuckin’ picture! Now, please untie me. I have some business to tend to.”

Before Martha starts to untie him, she pinches his ass and says;

” Yes, you do have some business to tend to.. I believe you mentioned wanting to fuck me dirty rotten? And, don’t give Doug a second thought. You can’t tell me you don’t see the lust in his eyes for you?”

Finally free, Taylor flailed his hands trying to get the circulation moving.

Taylor thought about what Martha said about Doug. He had been reading about Doug being a fan girl on other sites. TMS reveled in the Doug snark. It always made him chuckle when the girls from that site made jokes about it. They have the best sense of humor on that site. ‘Could there really be some truth to it? Shit.’

Martha approached him and grabbed his cock. “So, you think you have a little left for me?”

Taylor felt himself growing as she gripped her hand around him just a bit more rough than he was used to. God, how he loved it. There was something so volatile, yet arousing about her that made him insanely turned on.

She was everything he wasn’t. She was domineering, and although he was a control freak, she had perfected it , which made him beyond wildly crazy.

As she continued to squeeze him feeling him grow by the inch, by the second. He groped at her tits. Then he grabbed her by the nape of the neck gently, and growled into her ear.

“Turn around Stewart. This old fashioned southern boy is gonna fuck you till you can’t see straight.”

Martha gave him her best side eyed look and a shifty smile as she obeyed and dropped her pants, bending over the same counter Taylor was tied to, offering up her ass to him.”

Taylor groaned as he rubbed the head of his cock on her ass. “Oh baby, it’s not your ass I want. I’m gonna fuck that little pussy of yours… But, not before I lick it first.”

He spun her around and went to work right away. The smell of her pussy made him insane. Martha arched her back and pushed herself into his tongue; “Suck and blow Hicks.. fucking suck and blow.”

Taylor didn’t know what was more erotic, her screaming or the taste of her pussy. He swore he tasted just like fresh baked gingersnaps.

He brought her almost to the verge of climax, and stood up, spinning her around..

She slapped her own ass awaiting his arrival..

“C’mon Hicks.. give it to me dirty.. don’t be shy. I’ve done hard time.”

Taylor didn’t know how much longer he could hold out before his orgasm exploded and he wanted to be inside this steel cold bitch right now.

Martha turned around and looked at him, there he was with his jeans and silky shorts around his ankles and his backside red and welted she was dripping in anticipation.

“Come on Hicks, what are you waiting for, I told you I had an engagement this evening.”

He grabbed her by her hair and held tight.

“You’ve had your fun bitch, now it’s my turn. Get on your knees!”

“Well you’ve grown some balls, Hicks.” She said as she slid to the floor.

Taylor was behind her looking at her ass, he wanted to give her back a little of her own. He slapped her hard leaving a hand print on her left butt check.

“Say my name bitch, say my name or there is more of that coming your way.”

“Hicks, your name is Hicks.”

He slapped her again making her jump a bit, “I don’t like to be called Hicks, what’s my name?”

“Taylor, your name is Taylor.” Martha was breathless

“And what do you want me to do to you?” He was breathless as well.

“Fuck me,” she screamed. “I want you to fuck me dirty rotten.”

That was all Taylor could take he plunged into her wet pussy with his full strength.

“Is that what you wanted bitch? Is my dick big enough for you”

“Yes, yes it is. God your are making me so hot. I’m going to cum right now.”

Her vaginal contractions and guttural moans put Taylor over the edge and he exploded inside her.

“Well Martha was that hot and hard enough for you. Do you feel like a dirty little bitch now?”

Martha adjusted her clothing and started walking away.

“Hey I’m talking to you.”

Stewart turned to look at her silver haired stud, “That Taylor was a very good thing.”

Spread the word. Do it.

Like the vast majority of male Idol contestants, Hicks got stuck with the grannies. Hell, with that premature mop of gray hair, he probably got it worse than the others–save for Clay Aiken, perhaps?

But that Taylor Hicks, he’s a nice guy. Even if he thinks you look funny in those red felt antlers, he’ll still be nice to you. And pose for photos which amuse me. Happy holidays, Taylor Hicks.

Spread the word. Do it.