On Fire for Mariah

Wherein our columnist is possessed by the spirit of a pubescent punk

When I am alone and doing it, I always think of Mariah Carey. Maybe thinking about Mariah Carey this much is not good. But I can't help it.

It all started with this girl named Tiffany, who looks just like Mariah Carey. She lived with her mom and little brother in the same apartment complex as me. I never noticed her until the start of seventh grade, two years ago, when her chest just, like, ballooned. Like Mariah, she's not skinny and not fat and has long blond hair.

From then on, I was dreaming about Tiffany at least five times per day, usually more. One day my kid sister walked into my room and caught me with Tiffany on my mind and a woody in my hand. It was horrible. But that is a different story.

Carey's can is an inspiration for teen boys everywhere.
Carey's can is an inspiration for teen boys everywhere.

Anyway, about two months ago, Tiffany ran away with her big fat boyfriend. He was this old dude with a big nose and a beer belly, and talked louder than probably anyone on Earth. He had to have been three times her age. Every time I saw him, he was wearing the same gray suit with white moccasins and no socks. One day he told me he was gonna take her out of this shithole and get her into magazines and videos. He bought her new shoes, which was weird 'cause he's the one who needed new shoes. I will never forget watching him carry her suitcase out to his car, walking behind her. After her chest changed, Tiffany had always said that she wanted to dance and sing and be a star. And that if she did that, she told me, lots of people will like her. I never had the nerve to tell her that I liked her just like she was.

I am always wondering what Tiffany thought was so special about that dude. Maybe she was stoked by his big '70 Buick GS that always sputtered to a halt in her driveway. Sometimes, I would spy on her while she washed that car out in the back parking lot while her boyfriend just lay back in the shade and watched. She would be wearing super tight cut-offs and a tube top. When the job was finished, she would be soaked. And the car was spotless every time.

Since Tiffany ran away, everything is sad. Nearly every afternoon, Tiffany's mom goes out to the swing set behind the laundry room and cries. And I had no one to put in my dreams.

Then I saw Mariah Carey's "Heartbreaker" video on MTV.

In the video, Mariah plays both the girl whose morals are good, and her boyfriend-stealing evil twin, who wears a black wig and tight miniskirt. To me, she's like trying to show that she knows what it is that all boys want, the girl who on the outside is innocent but in the bedroom is a slut. It's kinda like those old Bewitched TV shows on late at night where the lady witch has a bad twin sister who wears lots of lipstick and has all these boyfriends.

Sometimes some of my friends joke around and say that Mariah looks like somebody's mom, and I just have to laugh along with them. Because I know deep inside that if she looks like somebody's mom, it's the kind of mom they would want to do it with. And if they thought about it like that, maybe they would start to understand.

In the past few weeks since seeing "Heartbreaker," I have learned all that I can about Mariah. I have tons of pictures of her on my walls, ones where she's sitting in ways that in real life would be really uncomfortable but in pictures work the best. In these poses, she really likes to show off her butt, too! I like that she isn't all skinny and how she cuts off the top part of her pants almost down to her butt crack.

I know she has had more hit singles than anybody except the Beatles and that fat Las Vegas dude. Old people say the Beatles were better, but nothing could be better than her butt!

I also learned about the fat guy who runs her record company and looks like Yoda if Yoda wore a fancy suit. He's the one who found her and made her into a big, huge star. They were married for four years. After she became famous, she left him and got a divorce. Man, I would hate to be the guy that everyone thinks of as Mariah Carey's ex-husband. And this dude is powerful; he even made Ricky Martin, too. Of course, at least Mr. Yoda can remember what it was like to do Mariah. Those would be righteous memories.

Derek Jeter, the studly shortstop for the New York Yankees, got to have Mariah next. Then one magazine said she was seen out with Leonardo DiCaprio and Sean "Puffy" Combs.

I heard last she was with some Latin singer guy named Luis Miguel until she made this new record, Rainbow. They sang a song together called "After Tonight," but Luis didn't like the way it sounded, so he took his voice off and broke up with her. Shit, that guy is messed up!

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