i gotta say.."brandon iron", or as david joseph once referred to him "the little man that lives in my pocket", is an enigma. an oddball remnant of the enormous pantload once found in the "dvdporn" era, long gone sour and warped. and seems like, and i think, the kind of asshole that skypes with pets if he had them and rents netflix movies but never watches them. he's a talented, early-to-bed guy with a completely unique style but just as a person he's got a 'Napoleon' thing going on. and i have suspected that behind the bitter mickey mouse bravado is a guy that's suffering. privately i've offered to scream his dreams with him. i even defended him when that little whore turned state's evidence after running from his apartment holding a rag to her mouth and head, because--get this--"a load hit her nose in a blackout". the real reason was her shame check just didn't have enough numbers on it, and everyone knew it.

i will give him this: there's some artistic merit to the idea of a deceiver/dirtbag--and not in that panting, max hardcore "you're so pretty when you cry" kind of way--but ultimate fear-oriented warfare, taking girls out for the night on the drug version of a blind date and playing 1970s style slapbass on faces and thighs. superb. that much i will give him. but then you also consider hitler - he wasn't any genius. you never saw a guy with more power screw it up faster than hitler. the point is, brandon has spent years trying to crawl out from under the wreckage of a mismanaged career, but his leg is stuck and he can't move--or "move"--insofar as you see him reaching but there's no discernible effect. he's reaching for leg and he's breathing heavy and he can't move and he's tapping on something hard with website mentions to get attention, while mackenzee or "mackinney" or whatever is playing twitter games, playing cat and mouse. and this woman has now morphed into looking like one of christian-x's transvestites (gay terrorists) on-parade over at polesmokeweekly and the irony is lost on her! later for that.

"Does hope have a place in my heart? When little Brandon cried in his cage at night, did anyone hear him scream? Did anyone truly know the depths of his loneliness? I’m not beloved by millions. Or thousands, for that matter. Or even... man, I bet it’s not more than six. That’s depressing." --b.i.