Mimi's Path to Crossroads and Back Again

I'm sure that for you, just as it was for me, what is slowly revealed to have happened to Mimi in Crossroads came as a shock.

Britney Spears and her two best friends (Kit and Mimi) embark upon a cross country road trip to seek out her mother and then meet up with Kit's fiancee in Los Angeles. Without a discernible reason for tagging along, Mimi's presence in the crew seems a bit out of place. She's pregnant, an outcast. Her sole purpose for going on the trip seems to be that she wants to go to California. She seems to be running, but from what we cannot be sure.

As their journey runs its course, we come to find out that the bun in Mimi's oven was the product of a rape. No one has to wait too long before they find out that it was Kit's fiancee, Dylan, who raped Mimi at that party, but in the fallout from the ensuing kerfuffle Mimi falls down a flight of stairs and loses the baby.

If you, like me, spent the past nine years searching far and wide for an answer, it finally revealed itself in the SVU Season 12 installment "Possessed." Operating under the alias of Larissa Welsh, it is discovered that she has been sexually assaulted in her own apartment by a grotesquely obese man in his tighty-whiteys and a weird mask.

Orville, Ruiner of Popcorn

As her background is looked into, it is discovered that Mimi had been a foster child in New York City who was kidnapped while playing hide-and-seek in the street. Her captor, Orville Underwood, then drugged and forced to perform sex acts in front of the camera in videos that were then distributed through an underground pedophile trading ring, The Coventry. She was the most popular of all of the stars of the Coventry films. It was only through the help of her sympathetic co-star, Daniel, that she was able to escape.

From there, we can only guess where she set off to, but it seems clear that she has been cast into the role of a much more tragic modern-day Benny Profane, the classic schlemihl.

Clearly she makes her way to small-town Louisiana, where the cycle of victimization continues. Dylan (not McKay) rapes and impregnates her. She is shunned and leaves on a cross country trip with Britney Spears, who was hurtling towards her own stop in a personal Hell. Clearly, Ms. Spears's influence only worsened things.

After losing the rape-baby, she finds herself back in the Dirty South as documented in Hustle & Flow, whoring for a pimp/rapper who shoots Fin Tutuola's step-son apparently fatally (but clearly not as Darius is magically alive in "Venom" and "Screwed" in Seasons Seven and Eight) but ends up having a huge single.

As we find out in Sons of Anarchy, Mimi leaves Memphis at some point and makes her way to the West Coast where she falls in with a biker gang and gets passed around like a joint in a freshman dorm room at Evergreen College. Having been given the nickname of 'Cherry,' she eventually finds her way into the arms of a uni-testicled prospect before she gets shipped off to Northern Ireland.

From Belfast, we can assume she made her way back to New York only to run into Orville and his acolytes, completing the circle of victimization in bringing it back around to its origin.

In the end, though, she finds the strength to do what the legal system couldn't and silences Orville Underwood, who she finds out is still holding young girls captive and filming their escapades in pedophilia for the grotesque masses to sop up with their tissues four-week-old loaves of Wonder bread. With one pull of the trigger, she finally takes back the reins on her life, killing her initial predator like he rightfully deserved.

We Get Traffic

Just for kicks, I was interested in seeing what kinds of people were visiting our cherished munchmybenson.  I want to thank all of you people out there searching google for gay+porn+stars or gay+twinks who stumbled in to our cozy little home.  Please enjoy all of the varied pleasures that we have to offer.  I trust you won't be disappointed.

BTDubs, Go Fuck Yourselves

I know what you are thinking.  This shit ended like a year ago.  Nobody gives even half a shit about what a few idiots have to say about some random ass episode of some spin off show that is primarily watched by bored septuagenarians since its the only thing left that could possibly bring a little spice into the sad, fleeting moments they still have on this earth.

Yeah, well, guess what assholes?  We're back and we're not fucking around.  We're going to write the everliving fuck out these blog posts.  We will blow your shit for brains brains right out the back of your head with the knowledge we're about to drop.

You think Meloni's fucking around?

Well, neither are we fuck nuts.

Deal with it.

Damn You, USA Network

As if being semi-dissatisfied with my current employment situation were not enough, I am reminded a few times a month of the fact that someone out there has my dream job. Damn you, USA Network.

What's that, you say? What, KRD, would you rather be doing than shaping young minds, inspiring critical thinking, grading for hours and hours a week? What I would rather be doing, maybe the one thing that I would rather be doing, is repackaging past episodes of SVU for weekend marathons. This job brings together three of my all-time favorite things: 1) watching SVU episodes, 2) making mixes, 3) devising and executing themes.

I swear that I could improve upon the tired "Killer _______" template. ("Killer Couples" "Killer Blondes" "Killer Clergy"--ok, I actually kinda liked that one. "Killer Clowns"--no, but there have been a couple clown episodes. Maybe enough enough for a "Killer Clown" marathon. Hmm.) I would also not go the cheesy holiday theme route ("Red, White and Blue"; "Scare-a-thon"). I would provide more ideas for BD Wong-centered marathons ("Gaysian Studies" anyone?) and certainly a would suggest a conspiracy-theoried John Munch marathon.

If life were more like Showgirls--and let's face it, it should be--I'd find the person standing between me and my dream job, and I'd shove her down a ridiculously dangerous staircase in order to steal her job, her boyfriend, and the adoration of all of Las Vegas. Or just the adoration of the legions of SVU fans.

Just the tip, Prezbo

(Sorry, reader. Despite promises to the contrary, it took two months to get around to this...)

Just in case you were wondering, the tip to knowing whether or not the episode of SVU you are about to watch is a good one is easy:

If the episode description on the digital cable guide starts with the words "A boy is raped," you are golden.

But then again, every episode of SVU is a good one, isn't it?


Now, the cross that the episode Hardwired has to bear is that it shows us a disturbing side to Detective-cum-Teacher Roland Pryzbylewski that paints the latter seasons of "The Wire" in a new light.

Initially, Prezbo's decision to leave the police force to teach in the Baltimore Public School system seems like an honorable one. Sure, he was facing suspension from the force, but it seemed like he was on the right track. As he grew and apparently evolved during his trial by fire, it seemed like he was one of the good ones, reaching out and helping out his students in crisis like Randy and Dukie and becoming the heart and soul of perhaps the most powerful season of "The Wire," the penultimate one.

As is unearthed in Hardwired, Prezbo was a pedophile all along. He married Gloria after she won on "Jeopardy" and left Woody Boyd. The marriage was clearly one of convenience, as he cared little for the woman who knew loads of food starting with the letter "Q" and much more for her adolescent son Corey. As the Caucasian-with-no-vertical's ex realizes that Prezbo has been drugging her to diddle her now-chlamydia-ridden son, it becomes obvious that Prezbo (who now goes by Thomas) was treating his students well only to be able to leverage those favors for sexual favors.

What is even more disturbing, though, is his friendship with the descendant of Mr. Wolcott from "Deadwood." This man, who also tried to kill Michael Westen in the season finale of "Burn Notice," is a supreme creep, just like his hooker-slaughtering ancestor. Wolcott's great-great-grandson, Kevin O'Donnell, is the leader of a NAMbLA wannabe organization, Our Special Love, who claim that pedophilia is a disease that they are being persecuted for. He also oozes sleaze and made Prezbo tape himself boning his step-son to gain admittance into his club.

Corey takes one for the team, electing to help the police bust the Big Fish to save other kids, but Gloria, who had been homeless in between her impressive win on "Jeopardy" and married Pryzbylewski, ultimately ends up loosing her shit (not without ample justification) and stabs her husband as he is getting taken away.

Thankfully for Gloria, an especially comely Benson works her magic with Cabot, gets her released with a desk appearance ticket, and they commence their massive pedophile arrest sweep, during which Hargitay gets to utter the historic line, "That's the least of your problems, baby raper."

And on that note, this installment of Munch My Benson comes to an end, as the episode itself probably should have because there may not have been a higher point in the history of network television than when those words crossed the lips of Mariska Hargitay.

Dick Wolf.

Greatest Of All Time

I think we all already know that Ice-T is the G.O.A.T., but even I was impressed by his most recent twitter feud with "pop star" Aimee Mann.  Apparently, the "singer" doesn't think much of MY man's acting chops.  I'll let the tweeting do the talking:

DAMMMMMMMMMNNNNNNNNN!!!! There is a lesson here; don't mess around with Oda-fuckin'-fin Tutuolo .  It goes without saying that the Village Voice deemed it the "greatest single tweet of all time."

The Return of the Mack

Clearly, the problem with slackers starting an impossibly witty blog about a program of unparalleled excellence such as "Law & Order: Special Victims Unit" is that there is bound to be a shocking lack of follow-through in its execution. I think the fanbase of Munch My Benson has been clamoring for far too long for more content without any payoff to speak of. For that, I assure you we are all deeply sorry.

Perhaps the growth of this blog was stunted by the countless hours amassed whilst enrapt in tales of incest, kidnapping, child abuse, torture, murder, and rape got to us temporarily. After all, spending 10-20 hours in front of the television watching one series cannot be good for anyone. Regardless, I am ready to get back on the horse, even though I don't have the money for a saddle, and I hope this spurs my fellow Munchers to put their private bits in danger and hop back on that mighty steed that is Munch My Benson.

Also, I would like to direct your attention to our new links section. Within that section, you will find a link to the kind ladies and gents over at The Blogulator, who have been very supportive of this blog from its onset. There are also links to some of the other sites of Munch My Benson's authors, including the brand spanking new Drop It Like It's Todd, which is sure to take the world by storm.

So while I've not got the time this afternoon to write a sprawling piece about the redefinition of another cherished part of my childhood at the hands of another amazing episode of SVU, I do have the time to blow your mind. Prepare yourselves for Muppet Munch, Muppet Cragen, Muppet Stabler, and Muppet Benson.


Hopefully this is the beginning of you and I making up. Expect more content throughout the next week, and I'll not disappoint. If you want the rest of the authors to pick up the pace, then hassle them endlessly. They will surely cave to the peer pressure. After all, we all really want more lesbo-tastic entries from softitems, am I right?