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My Newest Fan

A big development in the land of Muldo this week.  One of my earliest celebrity crushes, Dominique Moceanu, is now following me on twitter little more than a year after I wrote this heartfelt article about her.

I’m honored and flattered as much as, if not more than the other 2,648 people she follows.  I proudly told my coworkers and friends about my newest fan and they reacted with varying degrees of interest. One quote from my friend Joel stood out.

“This is the most exciting thing to happen since David Hasselhoff started following me,” Joel said.



First Celebrity Sighting

A photo from the night I met my first celebrity. My nipples were hard with excitement.

Ask anyone who relocated to Los Angeles, and they’ll be able to tell you about their first celebrity encounter.  Mine happened my second week in town, and was one of the most exciting moments of my life up until that point.[1. Honorable mentions:  The time I won Penguins tickets from a TV sports talk show contest, sneaking downstairs to watch a few minutes of Showgirls while my mom was asleep, and scoring 31 of my teams 37 points in a game of 8th grade rec league basketball]

It was at a semi-intimate gathering with a lot of people I just met.  Across the room stood a familiar looking woman making small talk with the party’s hostess.  I recognized her as Nurse Olivia from “Grey’s Anatomy” (real name:  Sarah Utterback).  The character who famously gave George syphilis.  This was the time in America when men and women alike were watching the show (or at least that’s how I justify it to myself),  so it was tough to contain my giddiness.

I asked the hostess if this was, indeed, a celebrity drinking beer in the same room as us.

“Oh, Sarah?  Yeah, she was on that show.  We’re good friends.”

She took me over and introduced me.  Just like that, I was mingling with a known actress.  We made small talk for a few minutes and parted ways.  She was nice, but unfortunately there was no sexual chemistry.  I went around the rest of the night telling everyone who she was, but no one really cared.  To them, she was just another working actress.  To me, she was a star.

The next day, I told my mom and all my friends back home about my encounter.  They were more thrilled about it than I was, and that’s saying a lot.

After 5 years, you tend to forget about all the famous people you see, and if I met someone like that today, it wouldn’t phase me.  But at the time, she was a star in my presence, and the subject of a story I’ll never forget.

Drive-by Fruiting

While driving in Los Feliz recently, my car was struck by a runaway avocado that bounced off a rickety fruit truck while my vehicle passed it.   I saw it coming, but didn’t have enough reaction time to swerve.  The result was a loud noise and a hole in the driver’s side headlight of my 2001 Pontiac Grand-Am.

There wasn’t enough time to turn around and get the license plate of the prick who doesn’t know how to secure the fruit with one of the biggest, hardest seeds known to man while he drives 10 miles above the speed limit.  I did, however, have time to be thankful that the avocado didn’t bounce up another foot and smash through my windshield, which could have potentially killed me.

Like all people, I’ve envisioned how I might leave this world.  Most of these visions involve me dying while engaged in a threesome with two women who didn’t make the cut to be one of Charlie Sheen’s goddesses.     In none of these scenarios has a fruit of any kind been involved, unless you count an alcohol induced nightmare in which I was killed by a coked out Andy Dick.

Thankfully, the damage was minimized to my headlight.  A mere flesh wound for a car that has survived a cross-country trip, two rear-endings, and countless sexual disappointments by its driver.

MuldoCast w/ Jeff Wild from “Chelsea Lately”

Jeff Wild on "Chelsea Lately"

The MuldoCast returns from its summer hiatus with Jeff Wild from “Chelsea Lately.”  Tune in to hear how Jeff endeared himself to Chelsea Handler , sexual relations with the elderly, the weird things people say on Twitter, and much, much more.

Listen Here:


You can check out Jeff’s music here, and follow him on Twitter @JiffyWild.

Do a kindness and tell a friend about the MuldoCast.  Don’t be left behind while everyone else is Mul-Doin’ it!  Also, be sure to subscribe to MuldoCast on itunes so you can listen at your leisure.

Zinger of the Year

I like to tweet on the Twitter every now and then (@muldo).  Today I had a zinger that burned a porn star and made this Father’s day one to remember.  And now, it has to be shared with the world.

For some reason, I follow porn actress Mary Carey.  She’s known for looking somewhat like Mariah Carey, banging a lot of dudes, and running for Governor of California in 2003.

Today, we shared this exchange:


Why Elizabeth Taylor Should Marry Me

Liz Taylor, one of the most beautiful women of her time, recently had to announce via twitter that she did not get married for an eighth time.  I was relieved, for obvious reasons:  It leaves the door open for her to accept my marriage proposal.

It might seem a bit unusual for a 26 year old in the prime of his life to extend a marriage offer to a 78-year-old dame, but we’d be perfect for each other.

The age difference isn’t that big of a deal.  There are a lot of things that I have in common with the elderly, and in turn, with Liz Taylor. We both like food that has high fiber content.  In fact, today I ate 3 bowls of bran flakes.  I enjoy shuffleboard and play it every chance that I get.  I think “The Golden Girls” was hilarious.  I love old cars, giving loose change to children, Werther’s Originals,  and all-you-can-eat buffets. All of which make for  conversation starters that would strengthen our connection.

Then, there is the love making.  On the surface, this seems like an unappealing aspect of a relationship with a woman in her twilight years.  It can be worked around.  I’m really good at concentrating on things when I have to, and I would always carry an 8×10 glossy of Liz when she was in her prime.  I would burn this image into my brain as we consummated our marriage.  One might say that’s cruel, but if you were to ask Liz, I’m sure she’d want to be thought of as she was in her prime and not her current state.

Unfortunately, Liz has been wheelchair bound the last few years.  Thankfully, I am a strong man and able to push around a wheelchair, which would strengthen our bond.

I’m tall, handsome, and can make you laugh.  I’m much better looking than Larry Fortensky and have better hair.  I’d be happy to sign a pre-nuptual agreement.  All I ask for is a reasonable allowance and a nice car that’s wheelchair accessible.

I popped the question to her via twitter the other day.  As of now, she has declined to respond.  Maybe it’s because I spelled marry wrong, or maybe she thought it was a joke.  However, this is no laughing matter.

If you know Liz Taylor or someone in her camp, please help get the word of my proposal to her.  I think she’s one of the most beautiful women of all time and I want to be husband number eight.  Marrying me would prove that she truly saved the best for last.

Liz, please think it through.  It’s not too late for me to make you a Muldowney.  Michael Jackson would want you to be happy.

Oprah and John Tesh: What Could Have Been

With word coming from the reliable biographer Kitty Kelly that John Tesh and Oprah dated in the 70’s, I only feel sadness for what could have been.  America’s most powerful woman and most talented new age musician could have made for an unbreakable alliance.

Between talk shows, radio shows, concert tours, television networks, movies, and theme song compositions, they would have been a major influence on at least 75% of media.  Eat your heart out, Rupert Murdoch and Comcast.  Unfortunately, it was not to be, though each have carved out a niche for themselves.

It also confirms what I’ve been thinking, but afraid to say for 20 years:  “Roundball Rock” was not really about basketball,  but about their relationship.  Take a listen and tell me otherwise.

Without a doubt, that message on his answering machine was actually a drunk dial to his former flame that was an attempt to win back her heart.  Also, the sadness in his eyes is apparent at 1:23 when he runs around the stage to his piano and begins playing the song.

Judging by the upbeat tempo of the song, Oprah must have been a real pistol in the sack.