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Mike Albo Treats Me Like A Bitch

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Lamplighter Restaurant. Chatsworth. 12:30 p.m.

I walk out of the bathroom and outside.

I hear my name called. I turn around. It’s Mike Albo. He’s just come out of the bar.

I assume he’s had a drink or two.

“I want to talk to you,” says Mike.

“OK,” I say.

Mike grabs my man purse. “Come over here,” he says.

“Let go of my bag,” I cry.

He won’t let go.

I have my new videocamera in my bag.

“Let go of my bag,” I cry.

“Come over here,” says Mike.

I try to wrestle the bag out of his hands but Mike is stronger.

He pulls me out into the parking lot and pushes me up against a car. He pokes his fingers into my chest and shoves me back.

He says I’ve been writing inaccurately about him and that he does not appreciate it.

I say I haven’t written about him in a long time but that if I have been unfair to him, we can work it out.

“That link from What Women Want? I am not a heroin addict,” says Mike. “Do you know that you are about an inch from having your ass kicked?”

I say yes.

He leans into me and stares into my eyes.

“I want a retraction,” he says.

“OK, whatever you want. You know we can work it out. We’ve worked things out for the past few years. I’ll write a retraction.”

We shake hands and separate.

I don’t want to publish anything inaccurate about anybody and am always glad to retract anything that is inaccurate or unfair. (Exceptions to this rule include when I attempt satire or when I am quoting somebody saying something obviously absurd.)

Over the years, I’ve referred to Albo as a drug addict and as a Heroin addict in the same way someone would call himself an alcoholic even if he has not touched a drink for 20 years.

Mike says that his drug adventures were before we met.

Mike walks back inside the bar.

I see Adam from XCartel, Ed Kail from DVSX, and Rob Spallone.

“Was that guy kicking your ass?” asks Adam. “Are you OK?”

“I’m fine,” I say. “Everything’s OK.”

“What was that about?” Rob demanded.

“A couple of years ago, I wrote that Mike Albo was a heroin addict.”

“Who’s Mike Albo?” Rob asks.

“He’s an editor at AVN.”

“He can’t beat you up in front of me,” says Rob. “You’re a c—. It’s like beating up a three-year-old.”

Rob walks into the bar.

A couple of minutes later, he walks out smelling of Scotch.

“I took his drink out of his hands, scotch, and threw his drink across the restaurant,” says Rob. “I told him to step outside. He refused. He said he didn’t know who I was. I’m Rob Spallone.

“I told him he’ll get fired from AVN unless Paul Fishbein comes up with $5,000.

“He said that he punched out.”

Rob talks to me. “It’s not right for people to push you around. Yell at you, fine. But you won’t fight back and people know that.”

Rob’s disgusted by my wimpiness.

On the drive back to Star World, Rob speeds up, weaves in and out of traffic, and slams on the brakes. He gives directions to a black truck driver and then yells, “Black bastards!”

We take an abrupt left into the parking lot in front of an onrushing SUV.

I cry: “Slow down, please!”

On April 23, Monday, Mike Albo emailed me:

Hey, man, I think Jim Jones is right. There are some spooky similarities between you and Cho Seung-Hui. In the interest of the truth you like to
sermonize about, you should post those old photos of you pointing your gun at the camera side-by-side with some of the photos that Cho sent to NBC. You know, for comparison.

G’day, mates! Anybody out there (besides my friend Wayne Chery) pick up on the crazy similarities between myself and Virginia Tech shooter Cho Seung-hu?

1. We’ve both posed for pictures brandishing a weapon.

2. We both are socially retarded.

3. We like to smugly rail against hedonism and see ourselves as morally superior to our peers.

4. We¬πre both attention-craving morons with persecution complexes.

The list goes on, but I have porners to disparage and I need to take a wank break and relive my childhood wallaby rape.

>>I don’t think the time is right. It could be misunderstood.

Then you are, as I have long believed, a punk and a hypocrite. Please don’t ever moralize about “the truth” ever again.

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