<P>Mario Lopez has no soul In an unprecedented move in celebrity gossip blogging, I've been tasked to follow actor, dancer, singer and allaround Latino heartthrob Mario Lopez for an entire day. I will have unfettered access to his life, and a backstage pass to his every waking moment for a full 24 hours. This is my story of a day in Mario Lopez's life. I'm not technically allowed to say it's a "true" story, but look into your hearts and you will know.</P>

<P>7:42AM Mario Lopez's HomeI arrive at his tasteful villa, a small, unpretentious bungalow set back deep into the wellmanicured shrubbery. His girlfriend, Courtney Mazza, opens the door with an enormous smile and loudly exclaims how excited she is to see me. Mr. Lopez stands oddly close behind her, his hands apparently resting lovingly on the small of her back. After she is finished greeting me, he nods to her, and she leaves quickly without a word. "Hey, howdy!" he suddenly exclaims, as if he has just laid eyes on me, even though I have now been standing here, occasionally waving and attempting conversation, for at least two minutes. He motions me in, and I take in his lovely home. Everything is pristine, untouched. Literally untouched. There's still cellophane over discreetly placed CDs of Latino music. A price tag is still attached to the bottom of a halffilled coffee cup on the spotless coffee table. "Make yourself at home!" he gestures at nothing in particular, as if utterly mystified as to where I might go and what I might do at that prompt.</P>

<P>Pictured: Mario Lopez. <a href="http://www.moncleroutletvip.com/"><STRONG>moncler outlet store</STRONG></a> Not pictured: Uncomfortable silences.</P>

<P>"Let me just put my coat away," I said, making my way toward the hall closet, "and we'll get star" "NO!" he screams, and in an instant he's upon me. His hands are like iron claws; he's pinned me to the wall. Disturbingly, his expression has not changed. His face is still frozen in a smile that bespeaks friendly recognition with a slight touch of modesty. His fingernails are piercing my skin. "I mean, we're going! Already! That's normal!" He's already released me and is ushering me toward the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Courtney standing silently in the shadows of the hallway. She is facing the corner, perfectly immobile. "I have a nice car that I drive!" he practically screams in my ear, and gestures to the cherry red '66 Mustang, again impeccable to the point of misuse. "Men like cars!" "Indeed they do." I nod, as he shoves me violently into the passenger seat. I am transfixed, watching him while his face changes expressions. It does so inch by inch. First the eyes turn upward, then the smile drops to a smirk, eventually his cheeks relax and one eyebrow slowly arches. It is an expression of wry amusement, or rather, a fantastic replica thereof.</P>

<P>9:02AM An unassuming diner. The sign simply reads "Eats.""Listen, man," I said, shaking salt onto the handful of Oxycodone that was my breakfast, "you can be straight with me. I even told the editor when I signed on for this <a href="http://www.moncleroutletvip.com/"><STRONG>moncler outlet</STRONG></a> gig that I seriously did not give a fuck, and I meant it. Here, look at my card."</P>

<P>"I know you've gotta put up a front for all the paparazzi, but I'm not them. Just be yourself, and lets get through this. When it's all over, I'll write up some bullshit about how we fed the homeless and learned salsa dancing or something." "Really?" he said, his face still transforming from male bonding to earnest listening. "Absolutely. It's making me uncomfortable anyway." "I'll give it a shot," he agreed, and with a confused effort, the smile gradually melted from his face to be replaced with nothing. Nothing whatsoever. I have never in my life witnessed such complete blankness on a human face. I noticed that his eyes, however, remained the same. I realize now that they were always dead. Dear lord, what had I done?</P>