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Lord of Allusions...


It's me. David.


You thought this was Omar's Web site, right?

That was... an illusion.

I am David. Fear me.

I'm looking at you. Right at you. Right through your eyes, down into your soul and down to your fat office-chair sitting ass. Illusion that.

I'm on the Web now. That's right. And unlike those cheesy CBS specials where I prance around on some multicolored stage like my pants are starched up, I'm totally free on the Web.

Watch this:

Fuck David Blaine.

You see, my friends? I'm the new David. I'm David "Don't Give a Fuck" Copperfield. Because I don't. And because I've been drinking.

Hey, where's my head? Where's my beautiful forehead? Who cropped me!?!

That's better. Beautiful. Lovely. Look at that. People love my head. Women want to run their Press-Ons through my course mass. Claudia loved it. And it wasn't the only head of mine she liked if you understand my allusion... Heh heh.

Oh, God. Claudia... Claudia. I'm sorry. Please, God, Claudia...


So, back to this David Blaine prick. I made the Statue of Liberty disappear, bitch. The Statue of Fucking Liberty.

You put yourself in a block of ice for a couple of days. Would I ever do that? No. Would I ever make a block if ice the size of the Statue of Liberty disappear with David Blaine inside of it? Perhaps.

Skinny little pussy.

So I'm here to address some rumors. They're on my Web site, It's Flash-enabled, because my magic could never be contained by mere HTML code. That and I made a lucrative deal with Macromedia. They are the masters of illusions, my friends. Go buy their stuff.

My publicist, Lonny The Fag (I call him that. It's a total joke. What, you can't take a joke? Maybe you're a fag. Illusion that!) said I should go on a grassroots Web campaign, get the word out.

Fucking David Blaine. His little punk Mexican ass drove me to this.

So, I'm here to address the rumors. You can find these same answers on my Web site, Don't go trying to cybersquat it either, you little Web shits. It's MINE! David Copperfield! I made an airplane disappear! What have you ever done?

Wait, before I do that, look into my eyes:

Oh, damn. I'm sorry about that. Wrong picture. That was during my "horse face" period. Claudia loved horses.

CLAUDIA! The Las Vegas hookers never get your accent right! Oh, baby, take me back!


Look into my eyes:

There, that's better. FEEL ME!

So, rumor #1: Why did Claudia and I break up?

As I say on my Web site,, we both traveled a lot and we grew apart, "obladee, obladaa." I actually use that phrase, because that's how nonchalant I am about it. No biggie. I only lost the one healthy-looking supermodel I could ever hope to date with actual breasts. No great loss, really. Lots of women love horsey-faced guys with intense stares.

CLAUDIA! God, it hurts!


Rumor #2: I'm gay.

As I say on my Web site, (you will visit), "Gimme a friggin' break! Of course not!" I then go on to fuel the fires of even juicier rumors by hinting that I kept lists of women, rating their sexual prowess, and that I was into two women at a time. None of that's true, of course, but because I'm a family magician (CBS loves me), I'd much rather put the image forth on my Web site that I'm an incorrigible womanizer than a gay magician. Because that would about ruin my career, right Lonny? Fag.

Rumor #3: I had equipment held by the Russian Mob.

According to my Web site, (you haven't visited yet, have you, you little turd munch? GO! NOW!), "The Russian people are great. But when they got rid of the Commies, they brought in the Sopranos." Ha ha! Love that social commentary, huh? It's not true, of course, but by hinting that I've had indirect ties to underground crime, I pass myself off as a kind of panty-wearing Indiana Jones. The Vegas hookers love it when I make up stories like that.

Hey, where are you going?

Don't you dare tune me out! I'll make something disappear. Look. See that next block of text? Watch this:

Ha ha! Look at my clever Web skills! I've made these words disappear! An illusion! I am the master of all mediums! I can fuck with your mind anyplace, anytime! Fear me!

I completely and totally rule. You don't even know.

So I'm off to bed. And when I wake up, I may walk across the street to the Mirage and pick a fight with Lance Burton. Hey, guess what? He's queer. Heh heh.

Claudia. Call me, baby. Seriously. I can't sleep. I get a little loopy. I need you, honey... remember when I said if you went away I'd make myself disappear completely and never come back?

I'm almost gone.

I hate myself.

I hate my disembodied forehead.

Claudia, come back. Don't make me saw your family in half, baby.


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"Don't worry, Maverick. It happens to lots of guys. Over."

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