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An Idol Obsession

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So, this obsession was more slow growing than most.

See, I saw a clip on YouTube about six months ago of Billy Idol performing some familiar song of his with Miley Cyrus. I probably watched it because I really like Miley.

I was like Damn, that old man still has really good abs.

Billy Idol & Miley Cyrus performing together

Then I would hear a song of his here or there on a classic 80s rock weekend on the radio.

I was like I didn’t care much for Billy Idol back in the day, but his music is really growing on me now.

Then, well, the obsession hit me like a ton of bricks, as they usually do.

I had a dream where I was dating Billy Idol.

Old Billy, as he is now. We didn’t do anything kinky. He just held my hand and was attentive and loving.

I woke up, told my husband I had a dream I was dating Billy Idol. Then I went back to sleep.

And had ANOTHER dream. This time I was at a rich friend’s house. We were both teenagers. She had like five televisions and I had Billy Idol on all of them.

After I woke up, I was compelled to search YouTube for Billy Idol music videos. The first one I came across was “Cradle of Love.”

I didn’t listen to rock music until like 1989. The only song he had that really came out after that that was big was “Cradle of Love.” I remembered now watching it on Canada’s Video Hits.

And I realized the swanky apartment and the moving portraits in the video were VERY similar to my dream. (Damn you, subconscious.)

Cradle of Love music video

I didn’t think I knew that many Billy Idol songs.

But then I discovered the theme song to the long-ago cancelled 21 Jump Street spin-off Booker starring Richard Grieco was a Billy Idol song.

I discovered he was in the Adam Sandler movie The Wedding Singer. I promptly borrowed it from my local library.

I have been busy schooling myself on his life courtesy of Wikipedia and VH1’s Behind the Music. (FYI-One of those only implies he has one child. He actually has two. I found their pictures on the interweb 😉 I have refreshed my memory on his bad motorcycle accident. I am using YouTube to try and listen to his other songs. His more current stuff is pretty damn good. The good thing about becoming obsessed with someone who already has a full career is there is a never-ending wealth of work to mine for my own satisfaction.

And, I discovered his abs are better now then they were on some occasions in the 1980s.

Joke Break



I thought my friends would be shocked that I liked Billy Idol. They were all just like “Oh ya, I’ve always liked him.”

Uh, why didn’t you give ME the memo of how awesome he was?

And this obsession too shall pass, to be replaced by another fleeting passion.

…Actually, have you ever noticed how Spike on Buffy the Vampire Slayer looks an awful lot like Billy Idol?

After watching the final three seasons of Buffy (and the last season of Angel), I now have a Spike obsession as well. Thank you James Marsters.

Spike vs. Billy Idol. Imitation vs. Real Deal.

Your past shapes you. It can’t be undone.

My Trip to Strangerville

I had the honor of being interviewed by It Just Gets Stranger‘s Eli McCann about one of my most favorite subjects in the universe: Punky Brewster!

He tried to keep the topic on only the refrigerator episode, but as I harbor deep-seated resentment toward that episode (see link to his post below), I kept trying to steer the conversation to Punky Brewster in general. (He edited that out, and rightfully so).

The whole time I was crazy nervous on this phone interview with him and his cohort Meg, I wondered why we were going to all this trouble for a blog post.

Turns out the interview was actually for his Strangerville podcast. That is right, America. I am now in a podcast.

And it is good I didn’t know it was for a podcast, as I would have been more crazy nervous.

If there is anyone else out there that would like to interview me about Punky Brewster or Growing Pains or my love of Matthew Perry, please just contact me at:

Here is the link to Eli’s website and the podcast:

Don’t be scared by the title. It isn’t that spooky. I appear in segment titled “Refrigerator Death.” Has a cheery ring to it, huh?

Your past shapes you. It can’t be undone.
Available for $.99 Pre-Order

Paint It Like It’s 1988: DIY Child’s Coat Rack

When we moved into our 100 year old house in 2004, there were already shelves and coat racks and key racks screwed into the walls. I eliminated the shelves that were in what we referred to as “the dog room” when it became “the nursery”. That is before it was the “man room.” They were white and wire and, in my opinion, ugly. I ripped out the one that was in what is now my son’s bedroom as well.

The coat rack and key rack by the back door I left untouched. We actually use the front door more than the back, so we always find ourselves walking to the back door to get our coat, then walking back to the front to leave. The keys that hang on the rack back there are ones we almost never use. The ones we need for cars and houses and our mothers’ houses we carry with us.

When we redid a bedroom upstairs for my son last year, we made him a cool train room [You can see it here:], complete with a coat rack that looks like a train sign. (We made a white one, he wanted the round yellow one. Le sigh.) It is great for his robe and baseball hats and such, but if we are leaving and I send him upstairs for a coat, he will get sidetracked and never make it back down again. The coat rack by the back door, while useful, was not very functional for a shorty like my almost six year old.

So, I came up with the idea that I needed to make him his own coat rack that he could reach downstairs. I was so fed up last spring, that I wandered into the local Habitat for Humanity Restore. (If you don’t know about these places and their treasure-trove of recycled goodies, look into it.) Twenty minutes later I walked out with an old oak board and enough hardware to handle coats for an army of children. I don’t remember the exact amount, but it seems like it was around $5 for my haul that day. I always intended to splatter-paint it with the leftover paint from my upstairs revitalization project, but never got to it all summer. With autumn’s cold mornings, it became necessary once again.

The completed board. The paint is still wet here.

The completed board. The paint is still wet here.

So, one day I designated as “paint day”, my son and I went out in the front yard in our junky clothes and painted his proton pack for Halloween, as well as the board for this project.

My son did all the painting himself. He did an excellent job, even if it is slightly more paint than I myself would have used. He had fun. And it got done.

Manly husband with power tools doing installation. Ahr, ahr, ahr. Now, where did we leave those studs???

Manly husband with power tools doing installation. Ahr, ahr, ahr. Now, where did we leave those studs???

While I have my own drill and bits and hoped to do the whole project myself, I am a giant loser wuss woman and had to have my husband come in and save me to screw on the hardware and attach it to the wall. But I think it came out pretty sweet!

Finished product. Reminds me of a New Kids on the Block shirt that I used to own.

Finished product. Reminds me of a New Kids on the Block shirt that I used to own.

Now, if only my son would quit wearing his coats to school on cool mornings and then LEAVING THEM IN HIS LOCKER instead of bringing them home. His coat rack looks a little empty at the moment.

Follow the romantic entanglements of The Riley Sisters in my books:
Be Careful What You Wish ForAVAILABLE NOW!
The Wind Could Blow a BugWHERE IT ALL BEGAN!


Who You Gonna Call?

My son has gone through many ideas in the last year of what he would be for Halloween 2016: Scooby-Doo, Gizmo, etc. Some would require more work than others on my part. And my heart is still kind of in love with his Marty McFly from last year, his obsession so perfectly timed with Back to the Future Day. You also can’t discount the reusability of that costume, which totally still fits him this year.

But about two months ago, he settled on being a Ghostbuster. We had received a Ghostbuster costume many months ago, just for playtime. So, that was already taken care of. But, well, my demanding son demanded a proton pack.


So, I present to you, a step-by-step on how I made my son a proton pack.

I took the back panel and straps off of a holey old backpack and glued them to a piece of cardboard. I added on a bunch of crap from the recycling bin and glued or taped it on as best as I could.

Recycled crap. The partial backpack and straps and cardboard are under this stuff.

Recycled crap. The partial backpack and straps and cardboard are under this stuff.

NOTE: I tried to avoid using cardboard as much as possible, since it tends to precipitate around here on treat-seeking holidays.

I bought some black spray paint and sprayed it all because it seemed way faster than hand painting it all. And it was.

Melted styrofoam, which I had to substitute out at the last minute.

Melted styrofoam, which I had to substitute out at the last minute.

NOTE: Apparently some types of Styrofoam melt when they come in contact with spray paint. Before using a large quantity of it for this project, you should probably test it first and see if you will have this issue. I had to make a minor adjustment for my son’s costume.

Secured with hot glue and Gorilla Tape, prior to painting.

Secured with hot glue and Gorilla Tape, prior to painting.


Old clothes and the great outdoor made for good spray painting conditions.

Old clothes and the great outdoors made for good spray painting conditions.

I glued on some color elements I purchased from Dollar Tree, such as a sound tube and jump rope.

The painted pack with added color elements.

The painted pack with added color elements.

I got glow sticks from Dollar Tree as well. I taped them onto the gun to make it glow. I also make it so that I could slip them into the egg cartons and it would glow. It looks cool, was easy, and provides better visibility to a shorty on Halloween.

The finished product, bustin' ghosts! (Glow sticks not yet attached.)

The finished product, bustin’ ghosts! (Glow sticks not yet attached.)

Can you tell that I am just not quite as passionate about this project as I was last year about making a DeLorean time machine out of cardboard and duct tape? While not movie quality, the proton pack was relatively easy (except for my glue gun is a piece of shit), and size and weight appropriate for my almost six year old boy.

The finished proton pack in action.

The finished proton pack in action.

AND this is an AWARD WINNING costume!!! He WON Funniest Costume at the YMCA for his age group.

Me, well, I of course wanted to be Harley Quinn this Halloween. Ponytails with multi-colored hair? It is like she was the comic book character created just for me. But in practicality, ponytails do not a Harley Quinn costume make. And while it will not deter many others, I neither have the body nor the inclination to run around half-naked on a cold Halloween night in Michigan (anymore).

So, I went with my most recent obsession: WKRP. I present to you, Miss Bailey Quarters. For some fan fiction featuring Bailey and Johnny, please click here:

I just HAD to have the Black Death shirt.

I just HAD to have the Black Death shirt.

Now, I realize my glasses aren’t big enough, but I need to wear my regular glasses so that I can, you know, cross the street and see and stuff. This is from the episode Rumors. I ordered the Johnny Fever shirt from I was really happy with it. I ordered a medium and it was a little big, but I kind of wanted it to be so that I could procure the illusion that I rolled out of bed in the morning and borrowed it from Johnny himself. You know, the same story Bailey gives the staff at WKRP.

My WKRP jacket I made. Attached with safety pins for easy removal.

My WKRP jacket I made. Attached with safety pins for easy removal.


My favorite WKRP in Cincinnati meme. Because I made it.

My favorite WKRP in Cincinnati meme. Because I made it.

Just because I can.

Follow the romantic entanglements of The Riley Sisters in my books:
Be Careful What You Wish ForAVAILABLE NOW!
The Wind Could Blow a BugWHERE IT ALL BEGAN!

WKRP: Baby, If You Ever Wondered What Would Happen If Johnny & Bailey Got Together – Part 2

Fan Fic written by Jennifer Friess

Based on characters lovingly created by Hugh Wilson

An episode for the non-existent 1982-1983 Season 5*

*Not approved by the CBS censors.

If you missed Part 1, you can find it here:


PHOTO: MTM, Fox, Shout Bailey and Johnny together.

PHOTO: MTM, Fox, Shout!
Bailey and Johnny together.



Bailey and Johnny were some of the last people to walk out of the hotel banquet hall after the ceremony.

“Look at it, John! I didn’t expect it to be so…shiny. I feel like I just won a Grammy or something.”

“Oh, Bailey. That will be just the first in a series of awards.”

“You really think so? I’m not sure I could handle it. All those interviews and photos I just got done with, dang. I’m exhausted.”

“Oh, you are, are you?”

“Why? Did you have something else planned? You can’t take me out to dinner, we just had dinner.”

“If you call that dinner—a piece of rubbery chicken with some sticky mashed potatoes with yellow grease on top. I would love nothing more than to take you out for a good pizza right now. But I actually was thinking something, well, naughtier.”


“Well, we ARE in hotel right now.”

“John,” Bailey cooed.

“It is all up to you. No pressure. Just, gosh, I’m so proud of you and you are so beautiful and radiating all that broadcaster stuff!”

“Yes,” she whispered, kissing him gently on the lips.

“Yes? Really,” he said, wrapping both his arms around her, crushing her arm holding her long winter coat between them.

“Sure, if you pay.”

“It’s a deal. Who needs to pay the water bill this month anyway. I’ll take sponge baths in the sink at work.”

“That’s the spirit.”


“Les,” Travis asked, drawing out his name. “What are you still doing here this time of night.”

“Well, Andy, you see, last night some more of my stuff went missing. This time all my paperclips.  I can’t very well affix my documents together with staples. These stories are still works in progress. And I can’t let my notes just float willy-nilly all over my desk.”

“Alright Les, calm down. But what do you think you will accomplish by staying late?”

Mr. Carlson walks into the bull pen right then, surprised to see Travis and Les still there.

“I am going to catch the thief. Or at least guard my things so that he won’t strike again.”

“Well, Les, I thought that’s why I agreed to build these walls of yours.”

“But they aren’t building them fast enough, sir.”

“Well, I’m sorry about that Les. But the construction should go faster now.”

“How so?” Travis drawled.

“Because I told them to put in windows instead of solid walls.”

“Windows? I’m not so sure…”

“Calm down, Les. Windows are more modern. Louis Grant has windows. I hear Walter Cronkite does as well.”

“Oh, well, OK then. If they are good enough for Walter, they are good enough for me.”


PHOTO: MTM, Fox, Shout! Actual dialog between Bailey & Johnny during the episode "I Am Woman"

PHOTO: MTM, Fox, Shout!
Actual dialog between Bailey & Johnny during the episode “I Am Woman”

“This is a nice room,” Bailey said, surveying the tastefully decorated hotel room.

“Wow, we get out own coffee maker and everything. You know, just in case we are still here in the morning,” Johnny ducked his head sheepishly at his assumption.

“John, are you having second thoughts about this?”

“No, no. Why would I? Just because you have probably been imagining this in your head for the past five years and now I have to live up to those sick, twisted thoughts. It is enough to give a guy performance anxiety!”

“John, calm down. It’s not like that.”

“God help me, I love it when you call me John,” he said, spinning around and taking her in his arms for a long, deep kiss. He backed up to look at her. “You look so great, I’m not sure I want to destroy Jennifer’s masterpiece.”

“I don’t belong to anyone but myself. Destroy away.”

“Ah,” he sighed, before kissing her and fumbling with the closure on her dress.

“Let me take care of it,” she breathed. She unzipped the back of her dress and let it fall to the floor. She then took the ten pins out of her hair that were holding it up, shaking it loose in front of him. She knew she was making an impression on him, standing there in only her bra and panties. Then she reached over and began unbuttoning Johnny’s blue shirt, the only button-down shirt he owned, the one she had seen a million times during the monotonous days at the station. How often had she dreamed of unbuttoning it and having him like this, usually against the control board in the booth? Probably thousands. He was looking down at her, watching her hands make quick work of the buttons through the worn button holes. When Bailey looked up, their gazes met. He leaned into her, catching her bottom lip in his teeth and gently sucking it. A small moan escaped Bailey, she couldn’t help it. A very Johnny sound rumbled in his chest as his right hand reached up and cupped her left breast. At first he handled it very gently. But as their kiss deepened, he kneaded the satin covered squishiness with more urgency.

Bailey pushed his shirt down his arms and onto the floor. She ran her hands across the blond hairs on his furry chest. It drove her crazy the way it would peak out of his shirts, tempting her. He began pulling her back with him toward the bed, but she didn’t seem to notice. She began to unzip his jeans, and could feel them straining to keep his erection contained. What she didn’t expect was for it to burst forth unhindered.

“John. You went without undergarments to the National Association of Women Broadcasters awards?” she asked in disbelief.

“I wanted to wear some, I just couldn’t find any that were clean.” He hung his head, looking ashamed. “Oh Bail, I might as well come clean to you now. I—I’m a mess. I always will be. I have good intentions, I do. But when it comes to things like being organized or having clean clothes, I will ALWAYS fail you.”

“John, you silly. I don’t expect you to be those things. And if you suddenly could be all that, I am not sure that I would like you as well. Anyway, I think I’m probably organized enough for both of us.”

“Oh, thank God,” Johnny breathed. They kissed again as they removed the rest of each others clothes and climbed between the sheets of the bed. When Bailey tried to pull the sheets over her, Johnny touched her hand, stopping her.

“No. Don’t. I want to see this beautiful body of yours.”

“It’s not—”

“Oh, but it is. I’ve always imagined what it would look like uncovered. And it beats all my expectations.”

“Always? Since when?”

“Well, since I saw you at work that day wearing my Black Death shirt. God damn, girl. I almost had to rip it off you right then and there in Travis’s office.”

PHOTO: MTM, Fox, Shout Bailey between Johnny and Travis again, in Johnny's Black Death shirt.

PHOTO: MTM, Fox, Shout!
Bailey between Johnny and Travis again, in Johnny’s Black Death shirt.

“So, why didn’t you do anything sooner?”

“What do you mean?”

“You could have had me like this at any time, John. Why now?”

“I guess I just thought you deserved someone better than me–and that is not something I usually care about—whether I am actually ‘good enough’ for a woman or not. But I knew damn well that Travis wasn’t.”

“That is so sweet, in a sick and twisted kind of way.”

“Oh, Bail, I do love you.”

“What?” she asked, blinking back the tears that immediately sprang to her eyes.

“I guess I probably shouldn’t have said that—”

“It’s not true?” Now even more tears came.

He noticed and kissed her quickly. “No, it is true. I just shouldn’t tell you so soon. Might scare you off…”

“It isn’t soon. We have been friends for five years.”

His lips met hers, then traveled down her neck and her chest, making little licking and nibbling sidetrips on their way to her breasts. That mouth that spewed forth golden radio wisdom to listeners every day was sucking her nipples and making her writhe between the sheets. This only made him look at her and smile a devilish, slightly insane grin. She loved it.

“Do you want me to slip something on?”


“Oh, I thought,” he looked confused. It was so cute on him.

“I’m on the pill, John. Go for it.”

“OK,” he said, all giddy.

She felt him hard at her entrance. She couldn’t resist grabbing him and rubbing the tip against her clit. He moaned at the sudden change in course, but he did not seem unhappy with it. She pumped his cock a few times before helping him slide it in.

“Oh, Bail. You feel so good.” They quickly found their rhythm. The pleasure in her pelvis kept building and building, like waves rolling to shore, warning of an impending storm. She clung to his back, for a second wondering if her fingernails were hurting him, then no longer caring as her pleasure peaked.

“I love you.” It had escaped, and she knew it. But it was how she felt at this moment, and she didn’t want to hold it back any longer. She was with her best friend in a way she had only dreamed of before tonight. And it all felt right.


“I’m so glad you suggested ordering pizza. I’m starved.” Bailey proceeded to take a large slice out of the box, aiming the pointy end toward her mouth.

“Ya, I’d say we worked off that little congealed chicken patty and mashed potato adhesive hours ago.” He paused, looking at her.


“You are even beautiful when you eat.”

She gave a small laugh, avoiding meeting his eyes, scared of the emotion she would find there.

After their first love-making, Johnny had proposed ordering pizza. The pizza place had said it would be a forty-five minute wait. They did the only logical thing to occupy their time while they waited.

“I guess it will be a little weird seeing each other at work, eh?” Johnny said, after he finished one slice and reached for another.

“Are you planning on pretending you don’t know me? Boys do that in high school, you know. Make out with an innocent girl behind the bleachers, and then ignore her in the halls. It’s just rude.”

“You talk as if from experience.”

“Just an observation.”

“Ya. I bet the girl wasn’t as innocent when she LEFT the bleachers.”

“Ah!” Bailey cried, throwing a pillow at his head. It made some of his blond hair stand up in that crazy way it sometimes did. She loved it when it did that.

“Although, I guess the fist fight with Travis outted my intentions this week.”

“Why did you go so crazy? Andy was just going to escort me to the awards. Nothing else.”

“Ya, and look where WE ended up,” Johnny said, motioning to the hotel room.

“That wouldn’t have happened with Travis.”

“Can you be so sure?” Maybe Johnny had a point, but Bailey tried hard not to let any guilty expression cross her face.

“You know I date outside of work. Why did my going out with Andy cause you to freak out so badly?”

“Because, he’s Travis. I can tell myself you aren’t serious about guys that I don’t see. But he is this ‘pretty boy’ with long flowing hair and a good job. Realistically, he is who you should be with.”

“You have long flowing hair too.”

“And there is a little less of it every day.”

“So you think I should be alone forever?”

“No. I—I want you to be with me.”

“Oh, John.”

“I probably don’t deserve you, but it’s the truth.”

“Imagine how crazy it will be when we tell our kids we worked together for years before we got together.”

“Our what?”

“Kids, you know. Young, short people.”

“Yes, yes, I’ve met some. I actually already have one of those, although she is taller now.”

“When I met her she was so sweet.”

“Ya, so, I’m done with all that.”

“You are? I didn’t even think you were around that much to experience her growing up.”

“Well, I really wasn’t. But from what I’ve read and seen on TV, it sounds like I missed out on lots of awful things like diapers and broken hearts, oh, and puberty. I hear that one is the worst.”

“I bet you missed out on a lot of good things, too.”

“Maybe. But I like my life. And with my last kid I ended up with a wife. I don’t want another one of those again. Two ex-wives is enough.”

“So you are saying you would never take that chance again?” Somehow their conversation had gone from being intimately about the two of them, to some sort of hypothetical future. She had just made love to the only man she wanted to spend her life with. And now his commitment to her seemed rather unsure.

He laughed. “No.”

“And your mind is made up on that?”


“Even if someone fell into your life who was your soul mate and you could imagine yourself spending the rest of your life with them?”

“When you find your soulmate, you don’t HAVE to marry them. I used to be old fashioned and believe you should, but times have changed. And alimony has drained my account six ways from Sunday.”

“I see.” Bailey said, more loudly than all her other questions. The conversation had flowed easily between them. But at her sharp retort, Johnny looked up at her, realizing he may have revealed too much. There was hurt in her eyes. But she said nothing more, only looked away at her pizza. She had lost her appetite.

They made love again the night. But Bailey no longer felt the same connection with him she had perceived earlier. This was the problem with being a woman. So much of sex was in your head. Before she had pictured a future together with him, many more years of times like this together, their bodies joining into one. But now she knew he thought no such thing. At least not in the way that she needed. And it made her feel kind of sick. She wanted that future, one that a week ago she never believed would exist, and it felt like it had been given to her & now it was ripped from her grasp.


Les entered the lobby looking very serious with a newspaper tucked under his arm. It was already ten o’clock. He had called, of course, to let Mr. Carlson know that he would be late. It was the responsible thing to do. But he had been at the station so late last night that he had had trouble waking up on time this morning. He was going to head straight back to his “office,” but decided to stop at Jennifer’s desk and check for his mail instead.

“Late night Les?”

“Uh, you might say that.”

“You were working?”

“Yes, yes. I am working on a story about a government anti-pork conspiracy. I think I may be about to break it wide open.” It wasn’t a lie, he really was working on that. But that wasn’t why he had been at work late.

“Did you SEE anything while you were here?”

“See? What do you mean? You must be more specific Jennifer,” he replied, his voice suddenly shaky with nervousness.

“Calm down, Les. The rumor is that there was a raccoon in the building. He has been on several floors, he has even been sighted on ours. Was stealing stuff from people’s desks. They are attracted to anything shiny. And they are such thieves. Did I ever tell you I had a pet raccoon for a while back in Rock Throw, West Virginia?”

“No, Jennifer you haven’t. And I would appreciate if you would quit spreading that particular rumor.” Les grabbed his mail and turned for the door back to the bull pen. “Woodland creatures roaming about the building. It’s nonsense,” he muttered by way of departure from Jennifer.

Jennifer shrugged, returning to her task of sorting the mail. She took a handful and got up to go into Mr. Carlson’s office to deliver it. She also needed to check on him. One never knew when he might be tangled in a fishing line or trapped by an inflatable raft. It was best to check on him every half hour or so, as one would a sleeping newborn baby.

“Oh, sugarbuns, you look even better standing up than you do sitting down,” Butch crowed.

“Sugar. Buns,” Jennifer repeated slowly, making it into two distinct sentences. She was so insulted.

“Yes. And they are looking mighty sweet today,” he leered at her.

“Well you look like you just crawled out from under a rock.”

“Oh, that’s harsh,” he said, going over and filling up a coffee mug, uninvited.

“Now, scram.” Jennifer waggled her perfectly-manicured red nails at him. “Leave my lobby. You have work to do elsewhere.”

“But I couldn’t possibly leave before I get a little sugar to go with my coffee,” he said, coming uncomfortably close to her.

“Jennifer, is this guy bothering you?” Herb asked. He had entered the lobby behind them and quickly recognized what was going on. He looked mad.

“Butch here was just heading back to work on Les’s office.”

“Ya? Well it looks more like he is loitering to me.”

“I’m just enjoying the view,” Butch said, not intimidated by Herb and his plaid leisure suit.

“Hey, I am the only one who gets to sexually harass her against her will, buddy. So back off my Jenny-poo.”

“Alright, alright. I see there is already a previous stake on this claim.” Butch retreated with his coffee back to the worksite.

“Are you alright, Jennifer? I would hate for that creep to spoil your day.”

“Nope. You saved me just in time. Oh Herbie, my hero.”

Herb blushed, embarrassed. He scooted around Jennifer and into Mr. Carlson’s office.


“John, I care about you so much. But I just don’t think we should keep seeing each other when we want such different things from our futures,” Bailey said, earnestly. The emotion in her voice was breaking Johnny’s heart.

“But, I want you.”

“And I want a wedding and a marriage and children and maybe even a white picket fence. You are content without those things. And that is your right. But I don’t want to be in a relationship that isn’t leading to those things.”

“Are you sure? What about our feelings? I love you. I know you love me, I think…”

“I do. I would do anything for you. Except wait around for something I keep wishing for that won’t come true. That is not fair to either of us.”

“I guess you are right. Can I, like, send you a postcard if my priorities change?”

“Sure. But, you know, you will see me here every day. Is that going to be weird? Maybe. But at least we didn’t have a screaming, knife-throwing break up,” Bailey said.

“Oh, I had one of those once. Actually, a few. I got six stitches here in ’72, see?” Johnny pulled up her shirt to show her. She just smiled and touched the scar on his furry arm, before turning to go. As she walked out the door, Johnny yelled, “But we can still have sex together, right? Maybe here in the booth?” She kept walking, but he could tell she was laughing. He loved to make her laugh. That would never change. And now he had new innuendo to use on her.

Travis walked in, apparently hearing that exchange. “We need to talk about this thing between you and Bailey. And I am sure I am the LAST person who should be talking to you about this, but there can’t be any, ah, sex around the station. Let’s start with that.” If Bailey was still in the room, he would have trouble saying that with a straight face.

“Don’t worry, Trav.”

“Don’t worry. Uh, why’s that?” Travis drawled.

“She likes to do it outside, under the stars…”

“She—does? Our little innocent Bailey?”

“My little Bailey, and she ain’t so innocent anymore.”

And that was the truth, although more with her mature feelings than sexual positions. But Johnny wasn’t about to clarify that with Travis. And Johnny also wasn’t ready to give up possession of her yet, either.

PHOTO: MTM, Fox, Shout From the episode "Fire". Check out the heat between Bailey & Johnny.

PHOTO: MTM, Fox, Shout!
From the episode “Fire”. Check out the heat between Bailey & Johnny.


“Look Herb. I TOLD YOU I would have walls. And look, a wall!” Les stood in front of the single pane of glass and spreads his arms wide.

“Les, why is there only one?” Herb asked snarkily, pointing out the obvious.

“Oh, the panels are on backorder. Mr. Carlson said it had to do with the budget. That it was cheaper to buy discontinued styles or something. But you know what they say: where there is one wall, more shall follow.”

“Nobody says that Les,” Venus chimed in from the disc jockey desk across the room as he sat there filling out his play logs.

“Well, they should!” Les declared indignantly as he moved things around in his office area.

“You know, you don’t even need those walls anymore. Your big thief turned out to be a furry little animal. You got all your silver pork back.”

“That is the Silver Sow and the Copper Cob to you. And it doesn’t matter, because it is too late now. My walls are already going up.”

He lifted his typewriter, awkwardly at first, then more confidently. He went to sit it on a table in front of his window wall. But he tripped on the power cord before he could reach it, and the bulky typewriter went sailing through the window just as easily as if he had thrown it on purpose.

Les’s hands flew up on top of his head, gripping his head with its ever-receding hairline, displaying the bandage wrapped around his ring finger.


PHOTO: MTM, Fox, Shout! Yes! Yes! And more yes!

PHOTO: MTM, Fox, Shout!
Yes! Yes! And more yes!

Johnny & Bailey have to not be a couple because it was a classic sitcom where the characters generally didn’t get together. And I left it open that later maybe he would change his mind (or he could knock her up) and they would get together anyway. In the television universe in my head, WKRP goes on for many more seasons. And The New WKRP in Cincinnati doesn’t count.

Johnny & Bailey & Travis have to go back to more or less what they were before these episodes, so that the character dynamics don’t change. Plus, it makes the episodes more cohesive when viewers may watch sporadically in syndication. The same can be said for the quest for Les’s walls being left unfulfilled. If he actually got his walls, his life would have no end goal. He would have to wander his days with nothing to strive for.

Like what you read here? You should try reading one of my books.

Then my son decided he needed to write a WKRP story. He dictated it, I typed it. If you know the series really well (which, why the hell else would you have read through two of my blog posts about it if you did not), you will notice some similarities to some actual episodes.

From M: If you are a big WKRP fan, please look at my story…

WKRP Story

By M.

Mr. Carlson fell and hurt his leg because he tripped on the tape recorder. Travis and Les went to the baseball game. They played baseball. Mr. Carlson was at the hospital because his leg was broken. And then Venus Flytrap and Johnny and Bailey came into the room with the records. Les Nessman came into his office. Jennifer visited Mr. Carlson at the hospital. Travis took over Mr. Carlson’s job since he was at the hospital. When Mr. Carlson came back, Travis went back to his regular job.

Mr. Carlson came back from the hospital and Jennifer. And Travis went back to his regular job. Jennifer came into Les’s office.

Follow the romantic entanglements of The Riley Sisters in my books:
Be Careful What You Wish ForAVAILABLE NOW!
The Wind Could Blow a BugWHERE IT ALL BEGAN!





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