Saturday, October 31, 2009

Day 84 - Halloween & Shit

October 31st, 2009

It’s Halloween and I’m curious as to what the real sluts are going to dress up as tonight. They really could go one of two ways: Minimize and be Mother Teresa or maximize their natural whoredom and be nude only wearing a banner that says, “The word of the day is ‘legs’ and I’m going to spread the word.”

New York on Halloween doesn’t look that different than the rest of the 364 days of the year as there are many colorful ones perusing this city. I’ve always liked to take it up a notch and encourage adults to celebrate their uniqueness. Of course, the majority of the country are preparing their children for the holiday.I always suggest one particular costume to my friends with kids that is always well received but never executed. Babies should be dressed as a piece of sushi while the parents are the sous chefs. Maybe I’ll get knocked up soon and I’ll be set for next year. Fingers crossed.

I’ve hosted Halloween parties for the past 5 years. Prior to my soirées, I’d always get a few annoying calls from invitees asking if dressing up was required. I encouraged all non dresser uppers to unite and go together as a focus group. Logistics weren’t on my side this year and I will not be having a party. In fact, I have just committed to even going out tonight. My last minute costume might be something like an American Apparel Fairy. So Brooklyn. I’m still working it out which is unlike me as I have really given myself internal high fives for the pre-planning and creativity that went into my costumes past. One year I was Angela Jolie in her Goth single mother(just adopted Zahara) stage. Of course, I was lipped up with a Billie Bob tattoo and a black baby(doll) on me at all times. FYI, if you ever need a baby of another race(for a reasonable price)…Walgreens. My claim to fame costume was the next year when I was a French Canadian maid. I had the sexy maid outfit and pasted on it were all things Canadian: Patches, Canadian bacon, Phil Hartman, Kids in the Hall, maple leaves, Terrance and Phillip, Wayne Gretzky,etc...)

There is so much thinking outside of the box, wit and alter egos to explore every October 31st. I’m embarrassed to admit that some of the most clever costumes that I’ve ever seen or heard about are all fecal related. I continue to claim to be above bathroom humor but if I take a long hard look at myself… doth protest too much. I’ll reflect on this epiphany another time. For now, I’d like to share some notable shit-centric costumes:

- 1) Dress up as a giant poop and have a 1/2 dozen of your buddies dressed up as flies buzzing all around you

- 2) Wear a brown burlap sack and be a “Lying sack of Shit”: On it, have sticky notes that read:
-I’ll call you
-Except for a beer or two, I never drink.
-When it comes to oral sex, I'm the best
-You're nothing at all like my mother
-What attracts me to you is your mind
-No, I don't think you're fat
-I don't masturbate

- 3) Wear a terry cloth bathrobe, grow(or wear) a mustache and carry a newspaper. You’re a “Father on His Way to Take a Dump”.

Friday, October 30, 2009

Day 83 - June-Bug’s Funeral Planning & Best Halal Philly Cheese Steaks

October 30th, 2009

June-Bug’s Funeral Planning & Best Halal Philly Cheese Steaks
- By Jacqueline Kabat, Troy Bynum & Kenny Wade Marshall

June-Bug(On phone) - Sir, we are very sorry for your loss. Yes, we do have availability on the fifteenth. We will be providing the limo, the flowers, the programs, and oh, I’m sorry, was that with or without onions? Absolutely.

(Elderly couple, Vivian & Gerald, enter)

June-Bug: (On phone) Great, will see you then. (To Vivian & Gerald ) Good afternoon, welcome to June-Bug’s Funeral Planning & Best Halal Philly Cheese Steaks on this side of the pearly gates.

Vivian: Oh, why thank you Mr. Bug, but we don’t eat red meat.

Gerald: Oh, Vivian, my little gardenia. You still care about my heart.

Vivian: Well, you stole my heart ever since I met you before the war.

(They kiss)

June-Bug: World War II?

Vivian: No, Steven Spielberg’s War of the Worlds. We met in 2005 at the Loews Cineplex. I was in line to receive my assisted listening device.

Gerald: And I my booster seat.

June-Bug: A true timeless love story.

(all 3 share a collective sigh)

June-Bug: It’s not uncommon for senior citizens to come together to make their final arrangements. It’s often hard on the grieving spouse to…

Vivian: Oh no, we’re dying together.

Both: Simultaneously.

(Awkward pause)

Gerald: But, the details of our expiration aren’t important right now.

June-Bug: We provide several services so your passing is…

Vivian: We’re going to make your job easy. We know exactly what we want.

(June-Bug takes out note pad and pen)

June-Bug: Well, shoot.

Vivian: My lesbian daughter would like to sing “Wind Beneath My Wings”.

June-Bug: Sure, that’s fine. “Wind Beneath My Wings”….original.

Gerald: We’d like to be buried together in the same casket with my box set of “Matlock”.

Vivian: And “Murder She Wrote”. Only seasons one through four.

June-Bug: Yeah, season five was trite and predictable. That all sounds great. I’m sure we can accommodate your wishes.

(June-Bug begins to close his notebook.)

Vivian: We’d like to go with a theme.

June-Bug: A theme?

Gerald: Yes, a combination Bollywood meets bed pan-Kama Sutra-Moulin Rogue Burlesque-Fiber-Circus.

(June-Bug gives a confused look)

Vivian: Under the Sea.

June-Bug: What would this entail?

Vivian: Pyrotechnics.

June-Bug: I have a permit.

Gerald: A pony

June-Bug: Got one in back

Vivian: Just one? A bowling shoe, left foot only.

June-Bug: Of course.

Gerald: Five Salmon Rushdie impersonators

June-Bug: Easy to find

Vivian: Three twelve packs of New Coke.

June-Bug: Certainly

Gerald: Dr. Kavorkian

Vivian: Just in case

June-Bug: Makes complete sense

Vivian: A lubed up Jermaine Jackson

June-Bug: Bold choice

Gerald: The Philadelphia Eagles

June-Bug: Yes

Vivian: Haley Joel-Osmont’s head.

June-Bug: Hmmmm, OK

Gerald: We’d also like our casket tricked out with…

Vivian: Spinners, hydrolics and DVD capabilities

Gerald: We’d like that Kanye West to preside over the services

June-Bug: I’ve got him on speed-dial. Look, this is all fine and good but, if you don’t mind my asking, where do the cheese steaks fit in?

Vivian: Excuse me?

June-Bug: We can do a beautiful assortment with and without cheese whiz

Gerald: I am not interested in any cheese and /or whiz at my funeral

Vivian: That doesn’t make any sense at all

June-Bug: What kind of establishment do you think I’m running here?

Gerald: I beg your pardon?

June-Bug: I don’t care how much money you have or how wrinkled you are not going to desecrate the sanctity of June-Bug’s Funeral Planning & Best Halal Philly Cheese Steaks. If you want a plain old funeral, then go down the block to Max’s We Only Do Funerals and NOT CHEESE STEAKS!

Vivian: (Flinches in pain) I can’t see out of my left eye!

Gerald: Great, look what you did! Angry Funeral home director’s are the number one cause of retinal detachment in seniors over the age of sixty-five.

June-Bug: Get the fuck out!

Gerald: Well, I never. Let’s go honey.

Vivian: (To Gerald) Give me the car keys my beloved. I’m very worked up and feel like driving through a farmer’s market to take the edge off.

(Vivian & Gerald Exit)

June-Bug: Damn. They must be crazy. And to think, I almost wasted a perfectly good fiber circus on them!

The End

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Day 82 – The Other Dump

October 29th, 2009

My mother had a house in Park City, Utah for a few years and I’d have to fly into Salt Lake City when I visited. That place scares the hell out of me. I felt that something was “off” with the energy and I would physically get a pit in my stomach. First off, when you get off the plane, all you see are Mormon families with scores of blond haired blue eyed children that easily could be mistaken for Hitler youth. If you’re unfortunate enough to drive through the city, you will be bewildered by the gigantean out of place Mormon tabernacle that looks like a cross between an Italian Renaissance church and a sand castle decorated with decorative wet sand dribble. The “sacred” structure would fit in beautifully in Gotham City. But the modern freakishly clean and sunny city of salt seems to be filled with crazy eyes delusional prophet types, huge families dressed like the cast of “Witness” and the locale for many disturbingly bizarre horrors like little girls being abducted from their bedrooms.

To minimize the my sketchy vibe, I felt it was best if I steered clear of Salt Lake City and spent most of these getaways 30 minutes away in Park City with my family, above par skiing, reputable (yet over hyped) movie festivals and dumps. That’s right. I said it. I do consider myself above bathroom humor...but sometimes it is just, shall I say, too good. The term that the Utahnites proudly use to describe a heavy snowfall is “Dump”. The regular Park City types enjoy nothing more to speak of snowstorms in the language of dump. As a comic, what blew me away was the brilliant poker face casualness that this word was always delivered.

-Park City Local # 1 – Jacqueline, welcome to Park City. You can look forward to some of the heaviest dumps that you have EVER experienced!

-Park City Local # 2 – Jacqueline, look what last night’s 2 foot dump did to the yard. It’s glorious!

-Park City Local # 3 – Jacqueline, if you’ll excuse me, I’m growing a tail. I have to go take a dump.

Yeah, # 3 was speaking dump proper.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Day 81- Real Estate Biatch

October 28th, 2009

I spent a few years doing high-end real estate in Manhattan. I thought (very wrongly) that it would be a career that would allow me financial security and flexibility while I pursued my artistic endeavors. Well this particular vocation is most "kicken'" on nights and weekends which is generally when most performers are invited to the stage. I admit that I didn’t give the job my “A” game because I found it awfully soul sucking and discriminating (Co-op boards can reject you for being too black, too white and for not finding your dog attractive.) Plus, I had a hard time earnestly convincing my customers to pay 3 million dollars for 1500 square feet in a “luxury” building that would win “Most undisclosed fire hazards.” There are too many players in the process in the buying and selling of New York residences. You have the buyers, the sellers, the real estate agents, the mortgage brokers, the lawyers, the management companies, the inspectors and random people on the subways who are probably some part of the long process of becoming a homeowner. Blame everyone to the right..and the real estate agent will always be at the end of the line. Brokers will undoubtedly be the person responsible for a faulty air conditioner, an unfavorable mortgage rate and 9/11. I knew it was time to exit the field when I was receiving a $20,000 check at a closing...and I still wanted to vomit. In addition, I grew tired of the investment banker douches that would waste my time when they made it evident that they just wanted a piece of my real estate.

Yet, it would be unfair to omit the occurrences when I dealt with lovely and delightful people. Sadly, those experiences were few and far between. But in the spirit of trying to turn chicken shit into chicken salad, I will share what I miss, found comical and could stomach in my past profession.

-Closing a huge deal while I was walking around naked in my apartment worked for me.

-There was a promiscuous broker and my coworkers gave me high-fives after coining the phrase, “She’s having an Open her pants.”

-The company I worked for had over 1500 brokers in Manhattan and Brooklyn. We had a bulletin board email group that allowed us to communicate unrelated real estate topics(restaurant recommendations, theater tickets etc..) One time an angry agent sent out an email to everyone in every office that read, “To whoever ate my sandwich..I really hope you enjoyed it and fuck you!.”

-One particular incident even inspired me to write a sketch that was performed “live” at Carolines on Broadway. I showed an apartment to a (whipped)man and his blind wife. The woman was alarmingly vocal(borderline rude) regarding the aesthetics of the space. Did it really matter to her that the dining room walls were beige instead of “mother of pearl”?

-My favorite memory was working with the Biatches. The couple’s real name ( I saw driver’s licenses) was Bill and Cara Biatch. Like 10 year olds who just heard our mother accidentally drop a F-bomb, all of us involved in the deal process could never stop finding the humor in the unfortunate Biatch name. There were 3months of telephone calls that went something like this:

Lawyer or Mortgage Broker or Inspector: Jacqueline, I’m calling about the Biatch deal (pause…giggle..):
Jax - I know. The best name ever.(more giggling)
Lawyer or Mortgage Broker or Inspector: Gets me every time
Jax - Seriously, you can't write this shit.

Or maybe you can. I'm a Biatch.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Day 80 - Love Letter to You

October 27th, 2009

Dear Blog Reader,

Today is day 80 of my 365 day blog entry challenge and I feel that it is time to address the elephant on the web page. We’ve been through so much together..mostly a lot of intimate reading and writing. After three exhilarating months, I think you should be aware that I am deeply and utterly in love with you blog reader. I know that you have feelings for me too because I see the comments that you make on my blog entries. Even if you don’t..I just have this feeling that I am on your mind. Part of it is my intuitive sixth sense(combined with the ticker counting my visitors at

They say that you are what you eat, but before you, I hadn’t thought it possible to devour an angel that had fallen from the sky. You are as succulent as the most chocolaty glass of soy milk( not whole milk because that makes my stools watery..but you learned that the hard way.) When you said, “Do you have a mirror in your pocket? 'Cause I could see myself in your pants.”...I felt like I worked at UPS and was given permission to check out your package. Also, I so adore when we finish each other’s cliché pick up lines that are reserved for frat boys.

You - What has 148 teeth
Me - and holds back the incredible hulk?
You - My Zipper.

(Laughter ensues)

I feel that it is best that I be honest with you before we continue our reader/writer relationship. Blog reader, we have a child, a Miniblog if you will. Yes, I’m sure it’s yours..and I’m offended that you’d even ask. My entry entitled “Day 60 – ‘Makin' Whoopee!’” got you so aroused that it resulted with an immaculate virtual impregnation. A miracle indeed. It’s not easy being a single mom in the big city working as a diner waitress and stripper to bring in ends meet. Can you hand me a tissue and a jaeger shot? Thank you.

I was afraid to tell you sooner because I know you're reading other blogs. I get that it’s hard for you to commit to just one webpage with self righteous commentary as there is such a variety out there of different shapes and sizes. Some have short content. Others long. Some have black backdrops while others have paisley. Some are more politically based while others are written in Chinese(and you do have that Asian fetish.) Plus, I recognize that newer blogs are as insecure and willing to put out faster than self-loathing insecure 20 somethings in Manhattan.

At your core,I know that you’re fragile and I am sensitive to the fact that other blogs have burned you before. I appreciated your candidness when you shared that you hit rock bottom when the blog that you thought was “the one” dropped you after gaining notoriety with a movie deal and a regular column in the “Duluth News Tribune”. What a bitch. With such loss and rejection comes emotional baggage that makes it difficult for you to trust a new blog.

I will wait for you my beloved. Let’s take it slow.

If your left leg was Thanksgiving, and your right was Christmas...all I ask is that you give me permission to visit you between the holidays.


Love Always,

Monday, October 26, 2009

Day 79 - 35 Things That Piss Jax Off:

October 26th, 2009

The philosopher Aristotle felt that anger was good for a person. In the "Nicomachean Ethics," he wrote, "The man who is angry at the right things and with the right people, and further, as he ought, when he ought, and as long as he ought, is praised." Um. I love praise! In order to celebrate one of the most important founding figures in Western philosophy, I'm attempting to allow myself to get more angry.

I tapped into my inner Lewis Black and here are: 35 things that piss Jax off:

1. Holocaust deniers
2. Mariachi bands on the subway at 7:00am
3. Being yelled at
4. People who are the most judgmental about drugs are the ones who should be doing them
5. Guys with Asian fetishes
6. Being depressed or having anxiety
7. People who think they’re profound but really aren’t
8. Commentators who just like the sound of their own voices
9. The fact that I wrote this sentence on my website that describes my comedy improv workshops:, “I know what it takes to deliver an experience that is low on stress and high on fun.”
10. Putting Disney movies in the vault
11. People so naïve that they should pronounce it nave
12. People who are all talk and no action
13. Kicking someone while they're down
14. People who say “Don’t bring Jesus into this.”
15. Trying to find Waldo(he’s kind of a dick)
16. People who are the The Yodas of movie ruining. “Bruce Willis was DEAD in the Sixth Sense. Bambi's mother dies. Crying Game. It's a dude.”
17. Cheap umbrellas turning inside out. Yet, I continue to buy them
18. The fact that people buy that the Pillsbury Doughboy and Snuggles the Fabric Softener are as happy as they let on
19. Mini Revolutions on Facebook when they redesign the site layout
20. People who act self-righteously to mask their own insecurity
21. The fact that David Caruso is considered a sex symbol
22. People who always emotional vomit on me
23. Obsessions with dead celebrities
24. CNN backdrop music after a horrific event in the news
25. Controlling people
26. When someone replies to an Evite with a: No +1. They’re basically telling me, “Not only will I not be coming..but someone you didn’t invite has also decided to pass.”
27. People who read The New York Post to get real news. It’s The Onion. Without the humor.
28. People who constantly mention that they have PhDs
29. People who cross the fine line between honesty and disrespect
30. When people say, “Being a kid in the 2000’s is tough.” You know what else is hard? Being an adult.
31. I’m sick of celebrities beating up paparazzi. Did you become an actor for the love of the craft or for fame? Sorry, lack of privacy is the price you pay. On some level, you love it and we know it.
32. Self righteous vegans and vegetarians
33. People who overuse exclamation points!
34. People who are so germaphobic that their debilitating phobia affects others
35. I am over 3 people: Gwyneth Paltrow, Suri Cruise and, of course, Al Roker. I’m done with you all. Now be gone.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Day 78 - Cliché -You Complete Me

October 25th, 2009

I asked you all to give me some notable movie clichés that you found humorous. For example, if someone is a victim of a matter how minor..they will be wrapped in a gray wool blanket. Even if it’s 100 degrees out. Also, women will always discuss deep relationship issues over pedicures. Here’s what you gave me:

Every time there's a scene running or driving through Manhattan, no matter where they were or going to, they always seem to go through Times Square.
-Rachel Koenig

The slow motion NO! accompanied by awkward grimace. See Hanz Gruber's expression in first Die Hard.
-David Forman Katz

When the cops go into a bar looking for takes a while but the bartender always seems to remember them, what they were drinking and who they were with sometimes what they were wearing as well
-Brian Baron

1)Whenever a movie or TV show wants you to believe a girl is crazy, she will always be wearing sleeves that reach half way down her hand. You always notice this because she will be using her hands to comb through her hair.
2) Whenever someone sleeps with a hooker in a show, he will always pull up and button his pants while paying her at the same time.
-Erin Scott kessler

They never say goodbye on the phone, they just hang up..
-Kat Theonlyone

1)War movie...young private shows photo of girl friend and KNOW he is going to be shot any moment now
2)In the western when the young cowboy talks about the little missy he has back in Texas and how he's gonna' marry her soon as he gets KNOW the next scene he is killed by the gunslinger
3)two cops in a squad car on a stake out , the young detective says to the older fat cop, "Mary just got back from her sonogram, it's twins!" you Know next scene the junkie is gonna' pop him!
-Ruth Kabat Thomas

Whenever someone is discharged from the hospital, they say "I don't need to be wheeled out." and the nurse says "hospital policy."
-Vicky Kuperman

What did you feel when you read all these? In all honestly, my heart was kind of full as I was saying to myself, “Yeah..yeah, that really does happen all the time!” Yet admitting that we find something comforting about these familiar incidences seems, shall I say, uncool. It’s like confessing that you ate at an Olive garden. And enjoyed it. Isn’t there something unifying about the familiar occurrences that we see (and share)on the big and small screen over and over again? As you know, I’m a dissector of the human experience and I wanted to know why random viewers coalesce when viewing what is expected.

I went straight to the source and interviewed Cliché. I know it might seem strange to interview an adjective that represents something familiar or commonplace. But when I set my mind to a task, I tend to persevere. My people called Cliché’s team and scheduled a meeting for us at a diner in Greenwich Village. At first I thought the locale seemed so, I don’t know, “cliché” …but I was surprised as to what I uncovered.

When I arrived, my interviewee was already sitting at a booth. Cliché’ is a raceless/sexless being. It kind of looked like an Oscar statue dressed in American Apparel.

Sorry I’m a few minutes late. I got caught looking at myself in the mirror. I’m Jacqueline

Hi Jackie, great to meet you

Actually its Jacqueline, but you can call me Jax.
(The waitress came over and was awestruck with my new celebrity friend. She blushed and told Cliché that she was a big fan. I ordered a cappuccino with soy milk. Dairy can really pull a number on my stomach. Not important now. I jumped right into questioning.)
So I see you’ve been getting many film roles this season in Sandra Bullock, Tom Cruise and Lifetime Original Movies?

I can’t complain. The struggling economy actually works in my favor. People are under a lot of stress and want to go to movies as a form of escapism. Art house films are a catalyst to “thinking” and, quite frankly, the majority of America is not interested in that.

Seriously, thinking can be a bitch. Any upcoming projects?

In the winter, I will be shooting a Julia Robert’s romantic comedy.

You’ve really been working with her since the beginning of her career. Right?

I really have. Her handlers know that she would have only gotten as far as her brother Eric if she didn’t have me supplying the giant smile, overacted monologues and catchy Top 40 theme songs.

You really are the genius of masking mediocre talent. I can do an impression of Julia having a diabetic seizure in “Steel Magnolias”. Wanna see?


(I break into a pouty lipped, shaking and teary episode. Kinda like Meg Ryan in “When Harry Met Sally”. Just more seizure..less organism

(Looking impressed)
That’s brilliant. Have you thought about doing cliché work?

Thank you. I’ll look into it. I have to say that you seem much more worldly and grounded than I expected?

I appreciate that Jax. I studied the craft of acting at Julliard and the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts in London. I wasn’t getting any roles in England because Gwyneth Paltrow was getting cast in all the British parts. Back in America, I had a few bit parts in independent films but Americans weren’t running to theaters to see movies where they didn’t know the ending. I happened to run into David Caruso in the steam room at LA Sports and he suggested that in order to make the big bucks, I needed to dumb it down. He helped me get the part of a lab technician in “CSI-Miami” and then I made my segue into films.

I know you worked with Jeff Goldblum quite a bit?

I did until word got out that he has a small penis.

Yeah, I have no interest in seeing someone with a small penis fight aliens.

You're not alone. Listen, I have to get going because I’m shooting a pilot for a new high school drama where the teachers have a lot of sex with the students.

Wow, the time really flew. You’re very easy to be with. I appreciate you giving me the time.

(Giving me extended eye contact and a hint of a smile)
I enjoyed it too Jax. You had me at diabetic seizure.

(As we walked out of the restaurant, it started to drizzle and Cliché grabbed me and started kissing me..and I liked it. Then these lyrics kicked in:

“It must have been love, but it's over now
It must have been good, but I lost it somehow
It must have been love, but it's over now
From the moment we touched till the time had run out”

The sheer magnitude of the moment made me drop my notebook. I bent down to pick it up and when I got up… Cliché was gone. All that was left was an American Apparel neckerchief. I just have this feeling that we will cross paths again. And it will be good. In the meantime, as the camera fades out, I smell the fabric and slowly flash a knowing smirk..because I sense that my life is about to change forever.)

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Day 77 - Bless Your Heart

October 24th, 2009

(Southern Belle, Loretta Muffman and her son Bo sitting at a fancy Manhattan restaurant)

(Speaking in a deep southern accent while messing with Bo’s hair)
Bo, honey I’m just saying I wish you would do something with that hair…you’re starting to look like a… (Whispers as if dirty word…) a bohemian. And your skin…even after that still have that oily T-zone issue (touching his face) Bless your heart.

(Trying hard to hold in annoyance)
Please..not tonight. mom….and I’m not 16 anymore.

(Pinching his cheek)
No you are not. You are not. You are my little New York University graduate and we are here to celebrate…. Back home in Savannah, the ladies in my neckerchief tying class swore…SWORE that the food here at Nobu was (whispering) fabulous…

(Waiter walks over)

(He is a handsome African American man)
Welcome to Nobu…let me tell you about tonight’s specials…

Oh My! Butter my behind and call me a biscuit! You are certainly not from Hiroshima. But you are without a doubt a decadent slice of chocolate heaven. Bless your heart. Wait! Bo, who does he look like?

I don’t know mom

Loretta look like..dooooon’t tell… me dooooon’t tell me…(proudly) Denzel Washington!

Why thank you ma’am…I’ve always enjoyed his work.

You can call me Loretta…Loretta Muffman and this is my proudest accomplishment to date. I present to you…Bo..Bo Muffman.

OK Ms.….Muffman…Our specials today.
We have a Baby Spinach Salad with Fresh Fluke Sashimi

mmmmm…..(tapping Bo)

Tuna Tataki Peruvian Style Spicy Skewers

(Hitting Bo)
Bo! You love Peru!

And Fresh Lobster with Wasabi Pepper Sauce

Sounds fabulous… (Hitting Bo with over the top enthusiasm)
I swear. If the menu sounded any better, I may have to hire someone to help me enjoy it.
(To waiter)
We’ll take it all because this is a special day. My son just graduated from the New York University.

Really? Congratulations. That’s wonderful. What was your major?

Musical Theatre

(Whispers to waiter)
Homosexual (Pointing to Bo…).Bless his heart. I have a daughter too but she’s fat and has questionable fashion sense. She’s big boned liker her daddy. It’s as if she fell out of the pudgy tree and hit every branch on the way down.

Mom…don’t say that about Missy. Please.

(Whispers to waiter)
Oh honey…. I was just trying to explain to this lovely Negro that we are an unusually close mother and son team. That’s all. I meant no offense to your portly sister. Bless her heart.
(To waiter)
Sir, since it is such a joyous occasion of monumental magnitude…we would just be just tickled pink if we could meet the chef.

It’s really not necessary

Hush (Playfully slapping Bo)

Certainly. I can arrange if you’ll excuse me.

(Whispering to Bo)
He’s very well spoken for a boy of color. Bless his heart.

Mom…please. That’s just…just wrong.

I’m just saying…

Mom… I really don’t want to fight. I love you and it means the world that you came all the way here for the graduation. I know it’s been a really tough year for you and I know you’re trying to be’s just..

(Cutting him off and covering up her discomfort)
I’m fine..fine..

Really mom? You and Missy have absolutely no relationship. And this whole thing with dad walking out on you…

Bo…(Getting angry)..enough..(Pause) It was those damn Kabbalah classes that you encouraged him to take. He claimed he discovered his purpose but all he found that little low rent money grubbing whore.
Bless her..

(Stops her abruptly).

Bless her…

Be strong mom…don’t say it...dooooon’t say it…..

Bless her…hear…hear….hear… (Winded)
Ahhh..OK. You win.. ..well played Bo…well played…(Defeated).

(Taking Loretta’s hands and very proud)
Mom., that was a huge step for you. I have to say, I am very proud. Listen, I know it’s my “special” day and all…but I have something I want to give you.(Hands Loretta a gift)

Oh baby boy…you shouldn’t have.

Well I did. I did
(Loretta unwraps present and looks at the picture and there is pause)
When I was home for Christmas, I found that picture of you and Grandma at your High School graduation. Look at you. You were so beautiful.

(Truly Touched)
Oh’re like an angel who has fallen from the sky. I was Valedictorian you know? My Mama was so proud of me. Daddy had died of a heart attack a few months earlier and we finally smiled again that day. You know, after your grandpa passed, mamma would go to the bathroom run the water and pretend to take a shower. But I heard her crying. She thought I didn’t know..but I did..

Mom…when I was a kid, I knew you were in the bathroom, with the water running…crying. I didn’t know what to do. I was sad that you were sad.

Oh sweet Bo. Life just happened to me so fast. I married so young, had you, your chubby sister..and the next thing I know I didn’t look like the debutante that I once was. (Earnestly)I want you to always listen to your heart and never…and I mean never be afraid of being who you are. Live your dream baby boy...because my life wasn’t supposed to be this way.

Mom. I know you’re hurting. But if it makes you feel any better… I have never felt closer to you and prouder to have you as my mom as I do right now.
(Bo and Loretta look lovingly at each other and hug)

(A pretty female chef enters)

Good afternoon, I’m Chef Johnson and I'm happy that you're joining us at Nobu today. (Looking at Bo)Congratulations…I hear that you are a graduate today.

I am. Thank you…

(Breaking the moment)
Well, pee down my back and tell me it's raining because I think it’s is safe to say that you do not hail from Nagasaki pumpkin. Between this cracker (pointing to chef), our Jim Crow waiter, the heeb hostess and the engine bathroom attendant, we got ourselves our very own Benetton Ad. I hope you have those Mexicans doing the dishwasher. I always felt they work harder than a cat covering crap on a marble floor.And you (Grabbing the chef on her breast) are simply a peach. Bo, look at her…LOOK at this gem. Pretty face…nice supple breasts. I swear…you two would make me the most beautiful grand babies. (To waitress). He just has no interest in your (Whispering) Poonani. (Sighing). Bless his heart.

(Bo appears hopeless)

The End

Friday, October 23, 2009

Day 76 - I Hate Al Roker

October 23rd, 2009

A few questions that could quite possibly never be answered in the world of television hosts?

-When will the very fertile Elisabeth Hasselbeck stop breeding?
-How come Wolf Blitzer looks like a wolf?
-Kathy Lee Gifford. Why. Just why?

When I was doing sketch comedy, I created a character named Monica Merris. She was a self indulgent(with a heart of gold) television host of your stereotypical morning program. She was freakishly high wired(think Nancy Grace with bigger eyes, nicer suits and more of a regional friendly accent )and very open about binging and purging before going live. Monica’s ultimate downfall was always turning the interview back to herself and not even realizing it.

The best interviewers are the ones with amazing listening skills and who have the (sadly counter intuitive) impeccable talent for making the interviewee look good. That’s why there are so many failed late night talk show hosts. Words that come to mind as to why these short term hosts weren’t capable of “giving” to their guests:

Dennis Miller – Used words that his guests and the majority of America didn’t understand
Chevy Chase – Painkiller addiction
Alan Thicke– He was bewildered that he even had a show to be begin with
Craig Kilborne – Just a dick

Comedy Improv rule # 1, 2 and 3: If you make your partner look look good, the idea of agreement and LISTEN. All great hosts adhere to these methods when interviewing. Johnny Carson was the best at it. He went out of his way to focus on the person next to him and always made them come out glowing… even if they were shitty people. Stephen Colbert is so committed to brilliantly doing just the opposite with his parodied holier-than-thou Fox news-esque personality. His character is not capable of humility and I never tire of his over the top high-fiving the audience journey to his (already seated) guests.

Where in the world is Matt Lauer? My heart. I really like the guy. I can overlook his type A personality(anyone who gets up at 4:00am everyday has one) and the speculation that he cheated on his wife. After speaking to some people, it appears as if I am not alone in respecting the often voted sexiest man alive Today Show host. In fact, Matt might be the nucleus holding the show together as it seems that many of us have a deep disdain towards the rest of America’s favorite morning family. Ann Curry. Many of you just had one thing to say, “Ugh.” I’m alright with her. When she’s not tripping over her words, I find her voice very soothing. She would probably be better off reading a children’s book on tape called “The Diary of a Young Pony”. Meredith Vieira seems to also not be at the top of your list. I feel she’s pretty interchangeable and is just a “lesser than” Katie Couric. I see her eventually starring as a woman scorned in a Lifetime Original Movie called “Not Without my Stepson that I’m Sleeping With”.

However, There is none more dislikable to me than Al Roker. He even gets his own paragraph. I just go with my gut on this one. Disclaimer – This has nothing to do with the time he made Heidi Montag cry. That is his minuscule spec of saving grace. Why do I hate so? I passed him on the street once and quite simply, didn’t like his vibe. I’m sensitive to shit like that. I’ve never trusted his hyper entitled celebrity persona on TV. I don’t buy it. Willard Scott. I do believe that he is truly jolly and loves pictures of old people on Smucker’s jars. I keep hearing(from sources that are as reliable as Wikipedia) that Al is just a mean man. This info combined with my instinct leads me to believe there could be some truth to his evilness. Plus, we must add to the mix that he has no talent and is not easy on our eyes. All the gastric surgery did was leave him with a shar pei puppy version of his original dickish self.

So beware Roker. Karma works in mysterious ways. One day on might be pushed to the edge and your true self might surface and you could pull a “Sue Simmons”.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Day 75 - The Art of Badassery

October 22nd, 2009

I was at Bed Bath & Beyond recently because there is nothing I like to do more than loiter at places where shopping carts get their own escalators. As I was meandering around the beyond section, I was reprimanded by a woman who “I looked at” for too long. She was tough. There was an animated snap accompanied by a “mmmm..” Well I don’t put up with that shi-at. I was overcome by my inner Chuck Norris, I bitch slapped her and I threw her over my shoulder. Once she was unconscious on the floor, I stood on her lifeless body to send the rest of the people buying bathmats, waffle irons and Snuggies a clear message that it would be best not to mess with me. So, yeah that totally happened. In my head.

This is the deal. Jewish girls from North Carolina are not raised with badass values. Having lived in New York since 1997, I have developed some skills, but I'm still in desperate need of enhancing badass momentum. After my unfortunate run-in at the chain merchandise store, it became quite clear that I needed some tools should conflict arise. My initial thought was that I should have told my assailant, "Bring it" or “Your Mama”.. both with a touch of attitude. Aren’t they really all-purpose insults and globally offensive? No? You’re right. I’ve never heard Clint Eastwood, Bruce Lee or MacGruber resort to mediocre verbal zingers.

Clearly I needed your help. I asked you all what I can do to kick someone's ass, look amazing while doing it and radiate with unquestionable authority and awesomeness.

Jax’s blog reader’s already possess the traits of all that is badass. Here are some brilliant gems that you graciously shared with me to up my badass game:

-Shave your head...
-Soul patch
-Nun chucks
-Ironically doing something, almost anything well
-Put on your redneck ninja outfit... use your "chew can" as your ninja stars
-Install a steely glint in your eye
-Program your VCR. No, wait - that's what one can do to become more Old School...hang on, I've got the wrong book...
-Bite the head off a bat at your next comedy show
-Skip an epidural
-Wear leather chaps with nothing else, smoke non-filtered cigarettes and push baby strollers into oncoming traffic
-Use the word Amazing in every other sentence
-Start an IRA
-Dye your hair red - Everywhere
-Eye patch

I commit to apply the above tools until I hear a nonchalant observer say in awe, “Wow, that Jax really carves her own path. She wears, watches, drinks and listens to what she chooses, when she chooses and where she chooses Clearly she is supplied with an unlimited source of awesomenimity. She is so cool, it hurts. What a badass.”

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Day 74- Dumped for Facebook

October 21st 2009


(Clarence approaches his girlfriend Andrea. She is sitting at her computer on Facebook. She keeps her eyes on the computer during the entire scene)

Clarence, this isn’t working for me.


It’s just not working for me

Wow..this comes as a complete and total shock.

You’re a great just happened so fast…I don’t think I should be in a relationship

You’re breaking up with me in clichés??? This is so hurtful.I allowed myself to be vulnerable with you. I cooked you Halibut. Even as a friend Andrea..I never thought you would end this in such a ..cowardly way.

(Awkward pause)
There is “something else”…

Oh Andrea..don’t tell me it’s over because of..someone else…

Clarence, I am breaking up with you for Facebook.


Facebook fulfills me in ways that you simply aren’t capable of. I’m afraid this is just the way it has to be.

Is this because I’m a member of the Facebook group “Fans of Being Gay But Living in Shame and Confusion in my Heterosexual Lifestyle”?

No Clarence. That I’m OK with. It’s just that I have over 30,000 Facebook friends and most of my day is filled with coming up with clever one liners to post as status updates. Not to mention, I have created multiple profiles of myself that need constant nurturing.

I really don’t know what to say. I guess looking back..there were clues. I should have seen this coming when you switched your relationship status from “In a Relationship” to “I Will be Dumping my Boyfriend in 3-5 Business Days.”

(Awkward pause)
Clarence. Your profile, quite frankly, turns me off. I mean, you only have 2 comments on your page. And one is spam from a Tibetan hooker and the other is from your mother.

I’m ashamed.

Please know that it’s not only you that I’ve had to let go of in order to maintain my Facebook intensive lifestyle choice. I haven’t spoken to my family in months and I quit my job.

But you loved being a pediatric brain surgeon for underprivileged children in third world countries!

I did Clarence. I did. But these kids don’t even come close to the rush I get when I see that a high school friend that I didn’t even like years ago writes a status update that says, “I’m so glad it’s Friday”..or the thrilling high I get when I post a new picture of myself that is silly AND sexy at the same time! It’’s blissful…

I guess I can see your point. Time to time, I really get into MySpace.

Uh yeah…that’s another thing. You grew up with MySpace beliefs and I practice Facebook. Our worlds don’t mix and never could. No matter how hard we tried.

Well even though this is hard to hear and I feel like a wilted flower…I appreciate your honesty.
I guess I just figured if our relationship would end it would be because of your alcoholism and schizophrenic tendencies.
(They both laugh lovingly with each other)
Well Andrea, good luck with your.. (Pause) online community. Good bye.

Actually Clarence…


I would like to refer to us as “signing off”.

(Clarence walks away..defeated…)


Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Day 73 - Movie Quote the Hell Out of Me

October 20th, 2009

"Tell me what a man finds sexually attractive and I will tell you his entire philosophy on life."
- Ayn Rand

I wouldn’t dare argue with this novelist, philosopher, playwright and screenwriter because according to a recent “New York Magazine” article on Rand, I would not win. So when it comes to our “sexin’” and “doing it” habits, she’d be able to dissect our essence like the frog that we cut into in 8th grade biology.I wonder what her conclusion would have been about the person who is an active participant on Craigslist’s Casual Encounters? I think I’d be able to sum up the virtue of an individual who posts an ad that says, “ Hey, I’d like you to meet me on the corner of 48th and 10th so I can piss on your face.” But I’ll leave that work to Rand because I already have a tool that lends me assistance when peeling the complex layers of all people that cross my path. MOVIE LINES.

The movie lines that ooze from mouths are remarkably efficient and effective barometers when deciphering a possible emotional, mental, spiritual and perhaps even physical connection with another human being. Some examples if you will:

Leslie Nielsen as Dr. Rumack in “Airplane!" – “I am serious... and don't call me Shirley."

OK, here are my thoughts on this one. The above quote is without a doubt one of the best movie lines of all time. But it’s obvious. We all know it. We all like it. We all quote it. If we cross paths, and this is what you give me, I will just end up feeling that you’re not trying hard enough. It’s like Twinkies and crème brule. Both delicious..but you gave me a Twinkie when I know that you’re capable of an original and clever crème brulle” . Rest assured, I haven’t ruled you out yet because I know you’re’re just not fully marinated. Spend a few weeks with me and I’ll have you wooing people when you casually and confidently drop something like, “I was born a poor black child.”

Arnold Schwarzenegger as The Terminator in "Terminator 2: Judgment Day”. - "Hasta la vista, baby."

OK. You’re a totally lost cause and have spiraled down the deepest abyss of lame movie quoting. To be blunt, I can’t help you and it’s best to stick with like-minded people who say, "I'm king of the world," "I'm just a girl standing in front of a boy asking him to love her" and "What is the difference between a hockey mom and a pit bull: lipstick.” Yes, the Sara Palin-ism is not from a movie but is worthy of inclusion because it’s the poster child for verbal vomit.

Steve Martin as Lucky Day in “¡Three Amigos!” - “In a way, all of us have an El Guapo to face someday. For some, shyness might be their El Guapo; For others, a lack of education might be their El Guapo; For us, El Guapo is a big dangerous guy who wants to kill us.”

If you quote the above within the context of casual unrelated movie quote banter, I will accept you into my circle of trust. For example, let’s say that I’m sensitive about being really bad at playing “Azurik: Rise of Perathia” on the Xbox. To alleviate my lack of self worth, you console me with, “Don’t worry Jax. Some people’s El Guapo is not liking Brussels sprouts. For others, its having the desire to rape and pillage nations. For you, El Guapo is having absolutely no talent for playing a video game intended for teenage boys that would allow you to journey through the vast world of Perathia gathering elemental disc fragments scattered across the many realms.” I would be smitten and try to one up you with, “Baxter you know I can't speak Spanish!” But you, Oh you, don’t miss a beat and give me a little, “What? You pooped in the refrigerator? And you ate the whole... wheel of cheese? How'd you do that? Heck, I'm not even mad; that's amazing!”


Monday, October 19, 2009

Day 72 - Ask Jax - Part 4

October 19th, 2009

Question: Can you really fart in a jar and save it for later? How long does it stay "fresh "? - Zachary B Atkinson, Wilmington, NC

Jax’s Answer: Yes, not only is farting in a jar possible, it is very practical. Of course it is best to let the world enjoy your potent flatulence when it ‘s freshest from your ass blower. However, there are circumstances when you’ll want to hold onto it for special occasions. Jar your backdoor breeze and keep it in the refrigerator for 2, maybe 3, days. You can also choose to freeze it. It holds up very well. If you had recently eaten a chain restaurant chimichanga, your fart might be extra grandiose and worthy of hanging onto. If this is the case, consider divvying it up into separate Ziploc bags so your blast from the ass trumpet can be enjoyed on multiple occasions. Remember, expelling something from deep inside your rectum can really touch someone else. On Valentine’s Day, nothing says “I love you” to your special someone like this combo: A little stuffed animal bear, chocolate from a local drugstore and of course, your fart in jar. Wrapping the jar with a red bow is optional. But a lovely sentiment.

Question: Who? What? Where? - Ruth Kabat Thomas – New York, NY

Jax’s Answer: Colonel Mustard did it with the candlestick in the billiard room.

Question: Is everyone else in the world a moron, or is it just me? - Ken Miller, Colorado Springs, CO

Jax’s Answer: The term moron was coined by psychologist Henry H. Goddard from the Greek word “moros”, which means "dull" and used to describe a person with a mental age located between 8 and 12. Ken, I hate to tell you that you live alone in Moronville. The rest of us have the mental age of 7 or 13. We’re cuspers. We’re like the Mexico and Canada to your America. We’ll wave to you from the borders.

Question - Why is it that when men 'fix' things...they immediately go into caveman mode? I can fix something without so much as uttering a fix everything from a lying down (on their backs) position while loud grunts, cussing, moaning and groaning continue consistently until the project is complete, or a woman calls in a professional? - Deidre Maggio Heisig

Jax’s Answer: Grunting has become associated with a very testosterone driven male form of expression. What’s interesting is that these gut wrenched sounds are actually a way for men to get in touch with their more feminine sides. When men are “fixing” things, it’s the perfect time to practice this language because women would never expect that this is what’s going down.
Have you ever seen 2 men at a grill having what appears to be a testosterone-off? Well, Ask Jax can translate Gruntinese. To women, the below dialogue sound like grunts..but they're enlightening conversations going on between these males:

-Man 1 - Did you catch “Grey’s Anatomy” last night?
-Man 2 – OMG…McDreamy makes my heart flutter!
-Man 1 – I’m thinking about joining the knitting club at the YWCA.
-Man 2 – You should! Nobody can beat your cross stitch Man 1.
-Man 1 – Let’s sing along to “I Will Survive”!
-Man 2 - Totally! it’s so empowering

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Day 71 - Corporate Frat Guy

October 18th, 2009

Below is a commercial for Corporate Frat Guys.

(To be read and sung like the Bud Light 'Real Men of Genius' commercials)


Here’s to you Corporate Frat Guy. You’re too old for the classroom and too young for the boardroom.


Corporate Frat Guy....


You're the good ‘ol boy at the midtown happy hour who slips a rufie in our drink when we're applying lip gloss. You come from a far away land.


The land of Sigma Lamda something....


When we have an opinion…you tell us to shut up and drink our beer…


We should have kept our mouth shut...yeah....…


Oh Corporate Frat Guy …we get such a warm fuzzy feeling when you brag about scoring box seats at the Knicks game..even though it’s really not that hard.


The homeless man down the block who talks to pigeons gets box seats...


There is something subtly effeminate about you that you attempt to mask with unread Maxim Magazines, late nights out at strip clubs with your "favorite boys" , and constant references to playing football at Kansas State.


Midnight showers with the Wildcats..Grrr....


Women often dream of becoming Mrs. Corporate Frat Guy. We’d live in a Red State, you’d take our children caribou hunting and we'd get to be a battered wives.


You hit so hard because you love so hard.


But in the meantime, here's to you Corporate Frat Guy for castrating self esteems of women who should have known better and filling their wounds with kosher salt and glass shards. It’s every little girl’s dream.


You’re a Corporate Frat Guy....


Saturday, October 17, 2009

Day 70 - 69

October 17th, 2009

Yesterday I did 69 and felt pretty good about my effort, stamina and commitment. That’s right I wrote my 69th blog entry. What? You were thinking something else? Perv. Actually, no judgment because I am certain that I would have had the same preteen reaction. Just saying the number 69 often leads me to instantly utter something a little(a lot) like, “Hehehehe 69.”

One would think the number 69 should inspire some thoughts on the many significant events that happened during the year of 1969:

- Neil Armstrong walks on the moon.
- Members of "The Manson Family" kill (a 8 ½ month pregnant) Sharon Tate and 4 others.
- Woodstock Festival inspires music, peace and sassy drug use.

Yes, very pivotal happenings in 69(giggling again) and most of our minds atomically go to that mutually inverted sexual position. We’re awesome. There is something nostalgically “precious” about revisiting that feeling in our middle school sex ed class where basic diagrams of the johnson and punani could really bond the class(eliminate all cliques) as we would all look at each other with shifty eyes, fascinating embarrassment and failing miserably to hold in breathy laughter. Genitals really are a uniter not a divider. On many levels. The truth is, I am positive that we would still have the same reaction today if were sitting in a class amongst our peers and presented 2D geometric symbolic representations of the genitals. In fact, let’s all sign up for a sex ed continuing education class so we can reconnect with our preteen budding sexuality and simpler times.

No numeral(69 included) is inherently “dirty” . And now it’s a popular sexual reference and illegal in Georgia. I’m saddened that many of my college friends living in Atlanta are on the road to incarceration because I know them tomcats in the bedroom.

Which terms have been considered “dirty” from their introduction to the English language? In 1972, George Carlin listed them in his monologue "Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television". He ingeniously expresses amazement that these particular bleep-censored words could not be used regardless of context:

• Shit
• Piss
• Fuck
• Cunt
• Cocksucker
• Motherfucker
• Tits

He was arrested for disturbing the peace when he performed the routine at a show at Summerfest in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Now might be a good time for me to mention that of all the dead celebrities that George Carlin is my biggest crush. Jesus is a close second.

I would imagine that The Federal Government’s “bleep specialist” suffers from road rage and is heavy-handed with his or her honking use. This person is obviously incredibly uptight and I would never invite the conservative fuck(bleep) over to my house for crudités, Yahtzee and key parties. I want to challenge said bleepers with words that sound dirty but aren’t. I want them to panic, sweat and fear job termination when the following words present themselves on the airwaves. For example, I think “beef patty” has a scandalous ring to it. I asked you all for your thoughts: As usual, you didn’t disappoint.

Words or phrases that Jax’s blog readers think sound dirty..but are not:

fallacious, ramrod, angina, May I push your stool in for you? Lick my Man Bag, camel toe, mukluk, ball-peen hammer, Doggie Style Grooming Salon, Bangkok, moist, tempus fugits, duty, titmouse, crotchety, ballcock, rectory, kumquat, manhandle , A pair of tickets halfway up the end zone, discharge, bagina, Come Soon( Chinese restaurant in Israel), phucket and Dick Butkus.

I LOVE my blog readers. I would totally virtually 69 all of you.

Friday, October 16, 2009

Day 69 - Die Bitch Die!

A little dark..but it seems to be where reality TV is heading....



Fox…you’ve done it again. TV simply doesn’t get any better than this. This fall, Fox television brings you Die Bitch Die!, the most cutting edge reality show where the winner receives the ultimate prize that celebrates the final chapter in the journey of life….DEATH. That’s right, Simon Cowell went across the country auditioning contestants who thought they were worthy of going to Hollywood with the other finalists to be put to death on live television.

(Cut to clips of potential contestants auditioning for Simon)

Auditioner 1

I think that I should go to Hollywood to be on Die Bitch Die! because I’ve wanted die since I can remember. I’m a middle child who was starved for attention…(Pauses )…I’m sorry I’m just so nervous…Simon YOU ARE MY HERO! Um…I have no self esteem..…but I do have loves handles…


That is the most dreadful excuse for death that I’ve ever heard. Unbelievable…your reason for a televised death was seriously painful to listen to.

Auditioner 1

NOOOOOOOOOOO…..but I’ve wanted to die for years! If I can’t die…I’m just gonna die.


You don’t deserve to die in front of America. In fact, you are an insult to death itself. My advice: Fire your death teacher and never think of dying again.

(Cut to next auditioner)

Auditioner 2

I am worthy of being killed in front of millions on television because I have a peculiar and distracting birthmark on my face, I was kidnapped by Cajuns who kept me trapped in an 8’ by 10’ storage closet for 4 years forcing me to eat my own fecies….

(Simon, very pleased…crosses his arms, smiles and nods)

And… Oh yeah…I was born with a tail.


Congratulations …you’re coming to Hollywood.


Once the contestants arrive in Hollywood to seek death…they will partake in a series of physical and mental games which include: Twister and and Guess How Many Fingers I’m Holding Behind My Back. The winner of these grueling challenges will move on to the next round until only one contestant remains.. And that’s right….you guessed it...the lucky champion will get to be put to death on live television! Better yet, the winner’s parents will get to choose the method of death. Hey…they brought them into this world…it only seems fair that they would take them out!

(Cut to Mother & Father)


Before we tell you which method of death that we’re going to pick for our boy…. we want you to know that this is the hardest decision that we’ve ever had to make.


I agree with my husband. Every way of dying truly has something special about it….and if we could pick every one…we would.



We’ve made our decision…we’re going with the…

Father & Mother




Viewers of all ages just can’t get enough of Die Bitch Die! Here’s what they're saying!


Death is so in. The prize… death … is so like permanent….and that’s AWESOME! It’s just like Miley Cyrus…..but with more death.

Middle-aged Woman

With all the horrifying stories on the news today…I’m apprehensive to have my little one watch all that violence on TV. Well, needless to say, curiosity got the best of me…and luckily I tuned in.

Small Child (to mother)

Hey Mom! Look a guillotine!...just like the one that beheaded Marie Antoinette on October 16, 1793 when she was charged and found guilty by the Tribunal for aiding the enemy and inciting civil war within France!

Middle-aged Woman

(To Child)That’s right sweetie. (To Audience)Die Bitch Die! is a history lesson and good wholesome entertainment all rolled into one. Death can be fun. We make it a priority to watch Die Bitch Die!….as a family.


So…Is the anticipation “killing” you? Oh, come on, …you’ll just “die” with laughter…we promise. See what all the buzz is about. Join us at Fox on Sundays at 9PM for an evening of good ‘ol fashion death.


Thursday, October 15, 2009

Day 68 - My Left Foot. And My Right One Too

October 15th, 2009

I like pleasure. Of course there are the obvious partakings that lend well needed (and deserved) indulgence into our lives. There are also off the cusp personal desirable occurrences. In my case, I attain deep satisfaction when Al Roker is put in his place, my cheap $3 umbrellas does not immediately turn inside out and when I get to watch True Blood in silk jammies in a tempur-pedic bed while eating moo goo gai pan.

I was getting a pedicure recently and it occurred to me that this soothing foot treatment is also a top contender on the Jax-pleasure list. I think it is safe to assume that I am not alone because most of us have feet(I apologize to my readers who live near land mines.) I don’t think feet maintenance is only women-centric. I know a lot of you men love getting pedicures and it doesn’t mean you have “impure” homosexual tendencies. Well, it might make you a little gay. Just make sure you get to a grill immediately and assert your primal caveman manhood.

No one loves feet as much as Koreans and podiatrists. I love Korean nail salons for buffing our callouses and making our toes look pretty.. and all for a reasonable price. Plus, I’m a big fan of kimchi. We give podiatrists a bad wrap when we should recognize how blessed we are to have medical specialists with a passion…a passion for the foot. Let’s focus our doctor jokes on proctologists.

I admit that I have treated myself to reflexology a few times in my life. I drooled. Saliva actually exited my mouth. It’s pretty phenomenal that stimulating pressure points on our feet can affect physical and mental ailments. Chinese medicine. Don’t knock it. Feet are obviously very powerful and it’s a shame we hide them under shoes and socks three out of the four seasons.

As Ms. Korean foot beautifier was painting my nails, it came to my attention that every toe has a significant role on the foot:

Big toe - the stoic leader
Second toe - very capable second command
Middle toe - the bad ass with a bit of an edge. It’s a big “fuck you” if someone shoots you the middle toe.
Fourth Toe –the free spirit of the bunch. It has a mystique
Baby toe –probably the extra child that was unexpected..but it’s totally spunky, adorable and has a knack for scooping up cocaine

I asked my readers which toe was their favorite:

Middle, right foot
-Michael Dubow

Oh come on... who doesn't like a Big Toe ( "An army without leaders is like a foot without a big toe. And Sergeant Hulka isn't always gonna be here to be that big toe for us. I think that we owe a big round of applause to our newest, bestest buddy, and big toe... Sergeant Hulka." - John Winger (aka Bill Murray, Stripes, 1981)....
about an hour ago
-Andrew Mackler

The one that had roast beef and didn't share with the one that had none.
-Ted Kim

My 6th (or 11th) one
-Adam Holtz

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Day 67 - Viva La Douche!

October 14th, 2009

I asked you all for some words and promised to intertwine them into today’s blog entry. As usual, you stepped up to the plate and I got many responses. Bonus that some suggestions were from the George W. Bush book of linguistic gymnastics. Here’s what you gave me:

Easy breezy

Below is a vignette, if you will, that includes all of your words(IN CAPS) in the order that you gave them to me:

Tom met Valerie at a local dive bar and was immediately smitten. He could tell that she had a good set of personalities. Their hands met in the fecal matter covered pretzels in a bowl on the bar. Electricity was felt and they started sharing information about themselves. He proudly said that he was a member of his college’s GLEE club. Valerie wasn’t so impressed and asked him, “Isn’t that a group of losers that sing old famous tunes?” He said that is generally the case but his choral group happened to get a lot of ass from the women in the knitting club. She let out a sigh of relief. He asked what she did and Valerie proudly said that she was a mechanic with a specialty for fixing CARBURETORS. He found that incredibly sexy and told her that explained her mullet, flannel shirt and dirty fingernails. Impressed with her vocation, he asked, “What’s your POISON?” She proudly told him that it was ice cold Zima with a twist of lime. Tom just thought that was SUPERCALIFRAGILISTICEXPIALIDOCIOUS because that was his drink of choice too! He overconfidently ordered the beverages and a nearby bastard with a false sense of entitlement called him a NINCOMPOOP. Tom mistakenly told the fake tanned gold chain wearing schmuck that he clearly was a master in the art of DOUCHEBAGGERY. This did not go over well with the pursed lipped asshole. Out of the darkness, a whole team of douches started closing in on Tom and Valerie. They were approaching like a zombie uprising and were collectively chanting, “Viva la douche! Viva la douche!” Tom cowered and asked his freakishly strong and masculine new lady friend what they should do. She said “Don’t worry little man.. I have a STRATEGERY because I am known for getting NARSTY with McDouches.” Tom watched in awe as Valerie used a paella of martial arts and good ‘ol boy fighting moves to literally take down all the douches. A bloodbath it was. Tom was EXHAUSTRATED just from watching Valerie’s impressive display of strength and prowess. He was so turned on that he went to take a swig of Zima but accidently took a gulp of KETCHUP. He didn’t care. This woman was special. Just as special as that unlicensed large Russian masseuse he had visited at the SPA. SCUTTLEBUT has it that he got a happy ending that resulted with many follow up private self induced MONSTERBATION sessions. But Valerie’s physical capabilities were of HISTRIONIC proportions because this douche uprising had the potential to be a total CLUSTERFUCK. Tom knew that he was DAINTY and would have gotten his ass kicked if it had not been for this woman who fought for his honor. He thanked Valerie and she said, “It ain’t no thing” and then she unselfconsciously let out some obligatory post altercation GAS. Wow. He hadn’t seen a woman so comfortable with her flatulence since he had dated JAX. Valerie told him her most notable fight was when she took down a LEVIATHAN. Of course she wasn’t really sure if that actually happened because she was hallucinating on LSD. Tom had hit the jackpot because this woman was everything he could wish for and more. And by more, he was quite comfortable that she had a hint of testosterone . No question about it… she(he) was the one. He knew their life together was going to be EASY BREEZY.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Day 66 - Therapist Auditions

October 13th, 2009

I think that most therapists suck. I’ve dabbled with the therapy because I do see the wisdom in talking to an objective “kind of” qualified individual for an hour. But I’m critical. Partly because I’m generally pretty good at analyzing and understanding the peaks and valleys of human emotions. Yes, it is ironic(and perhaps a bit pompous) that I would declare myself as “skilled” or more self aware than the people who have dedicated their career to therapy. Well, let’s sum it up to my researching the human experience and a blog topic for today.

I give credit to people who are willing to open the door to the inner workings of their own mental health. It can be frightening and we’re willingly putting ourselves in a vulnerable position. Anyone who is trying to better themselves can be part of my world. I’m very content with the therapist that I see because she is an unbelievably sympathetic listener. That’s a skill. She doesn’t have to break everything down because I generally can do it myself with the help of looking at her kind face. Plus, when she chimes in, it’s usually just to blow smoke up my ass in some, way shape or form. She tells me that “I am extremely in tune and I possess a heightened form of intelligence.” Awesome. What’s not to love about this woman? That’s what I pay good money for and why she’ll be seeing me again next week.

Part of the reason I find the therapist/patient relationship so fascinating is that I had to divorce a few of them. We were just different breeds and our wiring didn't make a connect. OK. I’m being too nice and I should get angry more. Quite frankly, I just didn’t like them. The therapist/patient disunion can be a complicated split. I find it best to let them keep the couch as long as I can hang on to my sanity. One PhD of the head(“Mind Whisperer”) was a heavyset Colombian woman who kept taking calls during our session because she was in the process of doing contract work in her office. When I told her I was leaving, she literally slammed her office door in my face and said, “I need to get paid too!” I didn’t really get what that meant exactly.. but it was ugly(yet I saw the comedy in it too..I’m good like that.) The second failed therapist was an orthodox Jew who just looked at me with great concern for 60 minutes. There were a lot of exaggerated long sighs combined with the slow shaking of the head, “ewwwws” and "Aye-yi-yis. Seriously Dr. Über Jew? You want me to leave feeling worse? Shalom. And by Shalom, I mean goodbye.

It concerns me that someone who seeks therapy has to frequently be in the position to initially open up to a licensed individual that is clearly not the right fit. I would imagine that many patients could be in a fragile state since they’re seeking help to begin with. I would love to live in a world where it is guaranteed that the helper/helpee relationship is guaranteed to be harmonious from the start. There is only one option to achieve the visual of therapists and patients happily running through fields filled with framed postgraduate degrees, resolved issues and endless supplies of serotonin. We will hold therapist auditions.

It is sure to be lighthearted and fun. We’ll rent a theater space. Actually, in this economy, we can just meet at a Starbucks. The therapists up for the part will be required to bring us a head shot, resume and be prepared to recite a Shakespearean monologue. Next we’ll role play a mock session. For example, we’ll ask, “My marriage is in jeopardy and I'm having frequent panic attacks. What should I do?”

Therapist #1 - I think it’s safe to assume that your husband is cheating. Look at you and those extra 30 pounds. You need to start telling yourself “A moment on the lips an eternity on the hips.”

Therapist #2 - We’ll talk about this soon. Just stay put. I’m gonna run to my jazzercise class.

Therapist #3 - Your husband is gay with a small penis. You’re better off. I’m going to give you a few thousand dollars. I have enough to spare. Also take this 10 year refillable Xanax prescription and my brother’s phone number(He’s Mr. July in the “Firefighter Hunks Calendars”)

It’s clear that we will hand the crown and the ginormous floral arrangement to therapist #3. However, if we're still unsure, let’s throw in an evening wear, swimsuit and talent competition. Ultimately, we’ll pick the harpist.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Day 65 – Freak Flag Day

October 12th, 2009

Happy Columbus day ya’ll! It just seemed like yesterday that we were kegging away the anniversary of Christopher Columbus's arrival to the Americas in 1492. Um. Yeah, I don’t remember doing that either because I’m pretty certain that par-tay only happened in our heads. Rumor on the Columbus Day blog is that there are special church services, parades and large events held to celebrate this landing. Well, no one has invited me and I’m awesome at parties. I can hang. Is this holiday for real? Is it really happening? If not, it would be a close second to my other favorite faux holiday, “Gay Not So Proud Day”.

Columbus Day celebrations can be controversial because the settlement of Europeans in the Americas led to the demise of a very large proportion of the native people that is said to be a direct result of Columbus' actions. Sure, he might be partly responsible for the deaths of a large proportion of the history and culture of the indigenous people, but at least he introduced the New World to Chocolate, STD’s and Eurotrash.

I don’ have anything personal against this holiday. In fact, many of my friends are teachers and get this day off . That makes me happy because no one works harder than them. Hey, teaching is the hardest job you’ll ever love. Or is that the Army or motherhood? For reasons unbeknownst to me, I just started thinking about holidays that could be, dare I say, insignificant. I asked my audience and Roman Feeser of New York, NY told me that he feels that Flag Day is overrated. I guess he doesn’t care that our flag has a proud history and was at the lead of every battle fought by Americans. Yeah, I don’t care either. Boring stuff. I want to propose a holiday under the flag umbrella that might have a little more of a following and chutzpah: Freak Flag Day

I’m pretty certain that anyone reading(and perhaps even enjoying) my blog could benefit from a flag that celebrates their unique, eccentric, creative, adventurous and unconventional thinking.

I’m throwing it out to you. Again. Feel free to comment here and say what you would do on Freak Flag day. Be subtle. Be overt. Just please don’t let social anxiety suppress that which is supposed to be. Remember. Jax’s blog is a safe place.

I’ll start: I’ll put on a camouflage bikini top and tutu and mud wrestle Cindy McCain at Mudfest 2009.I might win. I might not. But I’ll tell you one thing: I will be free. Thanks Freak Flag Day! You’re tops!

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Day 64 - Ask Jax - Part 3

October 11th, 2009

Below is my 3rd installment of my blog's "Ask Jax" series. I continue to be open to answering ANY questions.

Question: Do you think capitalizing the word "ANY" will lead to people (read: men) to ask provocative questions?
Ed Blank, Canton, Ohio

Jax's Answer: Yes, penises work in mysterious ways. Please refer to “Day 35 – Penis” -

Question: So what if there is water on the moon - then what?
Brian Levy – Dallas, Texas

Jax's Answer: First, let me be clear that there IS water on the moon. I know this because I’m a member of the Facebook Group, “Fan of Water on the Moon”. Neil Armstrong, the first person to set foot on the celestial body, has an impressive resume indeed: Astronaut, university professor and United States Naval Aviator. But what few people know is that he was an avid Slip 'n Slider. In fact, he told Nasa that the only way he would even consider the expedition into space was if he could bring his sheet of thin plastic to partake in some slipping and some sliding. He was unyielding with his demands and they eventually budged. As Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin were moon loitering, they crossed paths with some lovely extraterrestrial life. They asked the Moonites if they could attach their hose to the alien’s spigot. The nonhuman species were delighted to accommodate…on one condition..they could partake is some sliding too. After good times were had by all, they all high-fived and the humans headed back to earth. Yes, there are various conspiracy theories claiming that the landings were falsifications staged by NASA . Well naysayers, if you look at the moon on a clear night, you will see reminisce of the yellow slippery plastic. So Brian, we have established that water is available on the moon. You ask “Then what?” There really is no reason for further voyages because today’s youth are playing Slip N’ Slide on the Xbox.

Question: Where have all the flowers gone?
Julie Trell, San Francisco, California

Jax's Answer: A lot of the flowers have gone to my friends. On my 30th birthday, I had a brunch with some of my favorite girls. In the spirit of “celebrating” them, I gave each of these special ladies a flower symbolic of the significance that they have played in my life.

Laura/Hydrangea – Keen ability for understanding
Galia/Sunflower – Warmth and nourishment
Marissa/Snapdragon- Gracious lady
Jen/Daisy – Innocence and youth
Deb/Iris – Faith, valor, wisdom
Claire/Bird of Paradise – Good perspective.

As you know, I possess the ability to communicate with inanimate objects( Please refer to Day 55 - Inanimate Object Whisperer Since my birthday, I’ve had quite a few candid conversations with floral arrangements. Although they appreciate being connected to celebration, housewarming gifts and corsages, they often feel the need to rebel like an angry teenager. Where have all the flowers gone? A lot of them get addicted to Adderall, wrapped up with deviants that they met on Myspace and move to the Mexican desert only to get caught up in botany drug rings. Only the flowers that can live in arid desert climate survive. It’s very sad.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Day 63 - You Hate Me. You Really Really Hate Me

October 10th, 2009

I asked my loving audience to tell me which celebrities that they despised the most. Here were the responses:

Cameron Diaz
Matthew McConaughey
Jennifer Aniston
Lady Gaga
Tyra Banks
Donald Trump
Bill Mahrer
Mahmoud Ahmadinejad
The Kardashians
Jon and Kate Gosselin

I want to see a film that involves all of your unloved shout outs.We'll need the help of Johnson and Phillips. I introduced them to you in “Day 16 - Bacon Fetish” and “Day 43 - Take a Load Off Annie.” They are reoccurring fictionalized (but real in my heart) ahead of their time marketing executives with a mutual interest in each other’s wives and unsubtle sexual innuendo for each other. They have recently relocated from Manhattan to Los Angeles( much like Laverne and Shirley moving from Milwaukee to LA.)Now they have become ahead of their time movie producers. The following pitch goes down in a sunny over sized office with a view of the Hollywood Hills at Universal Studios.

Johnson, I feel I got a real winner for our next feature. We have Cameron Diaz and Jennifer Aniston playing lifelong “frenemies” who are down on their luck. They’re both racing against the biological clock and each other to become pregnant. Aniston’s character dumps Matthew McConaughey because she grew tired of his chronic marijuana addiction and erectile dysfunction. He doesn’t takes it well and starts to immediately date underage girls. In a mean-spirited phone call, he tells Aniston, “That's what I like about these high school girls. I get older, they stay the same age.” Diaz recently breaks up with the President of the Islamic Republic of Iran, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. She was turned off by his story entitled , “Israel must be wiped off the map”. Plus he always hogged the covers.

Phillips, I love it. Now I want to devour you like a fish taco. Tyra Banks will play their token black friend who was dating Michael Vick until he was arrested for an interstate dog fighting ring. Inspired by Vick's felony, she hosts a reality show called “Americas Top Model Mauler” where she operates a model fighting ring out of her back yard. It’s the darling of the Nielson ratings.

You’re the darling of my groin Johnson. Obviously, Bill Mahrer will play Jennifer Anistons brother who raised her after their parents were killed in a freak mall speed walking accident. Donald Trump is Cameron Diaz’s father. When the two men meet, there is just too much ego in a square foot and the result is spontaneous combustion. They literally disappear into flames.

Nice. After the tragedy, Diaz and Aniston put aside their differences and soon realize that they are in love with each other. The obligatory lesbian sex scene will be just as raunchy as the time I spent with your wife in the back my Infiniti M35. During this girl on girl action, the Grammy nominated theme song (sung by Miley Cyrus, Lady Gaga and Bono) will be playing in the backdrop. The sounds will consist of the hypnotic arrangements of synthetic rhythms of aboriginal rock. After Aniston and Diaz's love is recognized, Jon and Kate Gosselin's children grow tired of their parent’s juvenile, uninteresting and over sensationalized bullshit. All 8 kids get adopted by Aniston and Diaz. Happiness ensues. Meanwhile, Jon and Kate don’t want their 15 minutes to end. They adopt the Kardashians.

Love it! I smell Oscar! And by Oscar, Johnson, I mean your wiener.

Friday, October 9, 2009

Day 62 - Muppets Age Beautifully

October 9th, 2009

I went out with a guy a few times in college and our “relationship” was based entirely on the Muppets. We never kissed. On our first date, we went to the theater to see “Muppets from Space” and I would imagine puppet critics wouldn’t have given it two felt thumbs up(probably because it was the first film since the death of Muppets creator Jim Henson.) Follow up dates with this guy(who was currently reading something like “ The Rush Limbaugh Story: Talent on Loan from God”) included renting “ The Muppet Movie” and the “Muppets Take Manhattan”. Although my date did nothing for me (and presumably grew up to be a Young Republican virgin), it became very clear to me that guys may come and go, but Muppets are forever. Partly because they age so well.

On a very basic level, let me share with you why I can’t seem to escape Muppet-centric themes in my own life.

1)The word "Muppet" was said by Henson to have been created by combining the words "marionette" and "puppet”. Now this is very endearing to me because my nickname “Jax” was also derived from the combining of two words. I was almost hit by a taxi in Athens, Georgia. In the spirit of word breeding, my friends came up with: Jacqueline + Taxi = Jaxi. New Yorkers have shortened it to Jax because the “I” makes it too much of a mouthful. It’s just how they roll.

2)It has been brought to my attention that straight haired Jax has the “gift” of striking an uncanny resemblance to Janice, the “fer sure” free spirited lead guitar player. Generally the comparison is clear if I have partaken in some herbal inhaling and my eyes disappear. Seriously, you could blindfold me with floss.

3) Cookie Monster likes cookies. You know who else likes cookies? Me

If you were craving more Muppet action in your adult life..I’m sorry to say that the brilliantly hilarious Broadway show “Avenue Q” just closed. It definitely fell into the “Damn I wish I wrote that” category. For those of us who grew up with the Muppets, it was pure bliss. The show was clearly inspired by “Sesame Street.” Most of the characters were puppets operated by onstage actors and the set depicted several Brooklyn-esque tenements on a rundown street. With songs called “Everyone's A Little Bit Racist” and “The Internet is for Porn”, this production was suited for adults as the themes tapped into grown up problems. Several characters were recognizably parodies of classic Sesame Street characters. My favorite were Rod (blatantly battling with his sexuality) and Nicky, versions of Sesame Street's Bert and Ernie. The characters often used profanity in their dialogue(often sung) and there is a steamy over the top risqué Muppet sex scene that makes “9 ½ Weeks” seem suitable for nuns who watch ABC Family Channel programming about squirrels.

“Avenue Q” has closed its curtains but grownups might have another option to satisfy their Muppet fix these days. My brother Scott was telling me about taking his kids to “Sesame Street Live”. This popular traveling show (which I assume is composed of musical theater graduates who get to dress up as giant Muppets..mascots tend to scare me..but I’ll let this one slide) is a favorite with the kids. Why not adults? I'd dig songs called “Me Lost Me Cookie At the Disco” and “I Love Trash!” From what I understand, Elmo’s debut mirrors the reactions to the hyperventilating swooning teenage girls seeing the Beatles on “The Ed Sullivan show” in 1964. Three year olds are screaming/crying, ”ELMO! ELMO! OH MY GOD ELMO. I LOOOOOVVVEEEE YOU! AHHHHHH! ELMO!” Then they pass out. According to my brother, all the characters are allowed into the audience to do some interactive break the 4th wall work. But NOT Elmo. Picking up on my bewilderment, Scott explained “well, Jax, his handlers won’t let him.” I spit out my coffee. Brother has wit.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Day 61 - I Love New York

October 8th, 2009

Jax's New York City Chamber of Commerce Commercial


I Love New York…(Sung beautifully with a harmonious pleasant touch of operatic flair)


The reassuring sight of the Lady in the harbor, the gleaming spire of the Empire State Building, the perfect pizza,the sounds of jazz from a Village club, jogging in Central night…


I Love New York…


New York is so very romantic. I would love to share the changing of the seasons and lay in bed doing the Sunday Times crossword puzzle with that special someone. But now... my ovaries are all shriveled up like dehydrated edamame and I get to die alone! I Love New York!


I Love New York…


New York City is home to the most extensive and efficient transportation network in the United States. Just ask this black man trying to hail a cab.

(Surprising casual as he unsuccessfully tries to hail taxis. They keep passing him by)
Hey!..I’m right here! Hey....Oh Come on!
(Suddenly becomes chipper and puts hands on hips and flashes a winning smile)
I Love New York!


I Love New York…


New York is unquestionably the leader in commerce resulting with endless career opportunities!


My job is great! Once I’m done paying my mortgage, bills and my children’s tuition, I’m left penniless and filled with gut wrenching panic..and when I proceed to suckle on the teet of desperation and poverty… I stop..and oh yes… I reflect… on how much…I Love New York!


I Love New York…


This ad has been brought to by New Jersey.


Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Day 60 - "Makin' Whoopee!"

October 7th, 2009

We're gonna talk “whoopee” today. And not as in Goldberg. She sucks.

I would imagine that most of you recall The Newlywed Game's questions that dealt with "making whoopee", the euphemism used for "The Sex" in order to get around network censors.

In a classic episode, the following occurred:

Host Bob Eubanks: Where was the strangest place you've ever made whoopee?
Very Candid Male Contestant: That'd be the butt, Bob.

"Makin' Whoopee!" is also a jazz/blues song, first popularized in the 1928 musical “Whoopee”. If I were alive then, I am pretty certain that I would not have seen this show because I steer clear of productions with exclamations marks in the title. I did learn that the “Whoopee” song is a dire warning, largely to the male species, about the "trap" of marriage. I miss good 'ol early 20th Century sexism. Interesting note, it’s generally safe to assume that homosexual theater types were doing most of the singing and this was clearly before there was any legalization of gay marriage in any state. Continuity and theater seldom go hand in hand. On an unrelated side note: Two notable happenings in 1928: Penicillin was invented and English hairdresser, Vidal Sassoon was born. Thank you Vidal.

It seems to be proving advantageous for me to throw some questions out to the
audience pre-blog. It’s the improviser in me. So I asked : “Where's
the craziest place you've made whoopee?

In the armpit..
- Ed Blank

On a roof...and in a tree house
-Michelle Kojen

Greensboro, NC
- Rosanne Garfield Nelson

In the parking lot at Target. And I was not alone... :)
- Dan Verkman

In a vagina
- Philip Schnell

One of Urban Dictionary’s definitions for whoopee is - “Old person word for sex”. I feel their example of this word’s usage might be one of the best examples that I have EVER heard. And I am an example snob.

Old Man: Hey Margaret, wanna go make some whoopee?
Margaret: O yes Cletus

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Day 59 - We Worked Hard for the Money. Kind of.

October 6th, 2009

My very first job was at I Can’t Believe it’s Yogurt. I did mention this rite of passage endeavor in a previous blog, Day 23 - Dude Looks Like a Lady. I will quote myself from this entry, “I did question if this severely processed high sodium dairy concoction really was yogurt. I was 15 and too young to have the sought after high powered job as “server”. So I was stuck in the back making waffle cones and cutting up Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.” The ICBY Yogurt where I was employed was located in the “county”. In Greensboro, NC, we had the city schools(where I went) and the county schools(where the rednecks went.) The county schools were also referred to as “directional schools” because they all had rather unoriginal names like Northeast, Northwest, Western, Eastern, Southern, Southeast and Southwest. A lot of graduates didn’t go on to college and ended up working with me at the Yogurt chain. For example, let me introduce you to Tara. She was a petite bleached blond 19 year old with a knack for yogurt and putting out. She had recently started “dating” a hockey player on Greensboro’s new “professional team”. These players were a bunch of poor Canadian guys who didn’t reach their “Ice-Dreams” and ended up losing teeth and dating directional school alum in North Carol-tucky. Tara was about to have dinner with her new beau’s parents who were visiting from Toronto. As I was choppin’ chocolate, I got to watch her spray cheap drug store spray perfume on her who-ha. I quit the next day.

In an effort to feel my readers and understand how their past experiences in the workforce might have tarnished or enhanced future life happenings, I threw out a question: Please tell me the most fu**ed up job you've ever had and I will expand on it through blog. First come gets the blog.

Adam Holtz, the husband of one of my best childhood friends replied to me inquiry with impressive haste. His answer:
“Lasted a few hours. White Jewish kid to read water meters during a college summer break in the projects of the South Bronx. Funny thing, it was for the same company my Dad worked for.”

There were several angles that I had the option to explore with his response. The thing is, I assume all my blog readers are already fluent in devices used to measure the volume of water usage. I mean, who doesn’t know that one rotation of a water meter’s sweep hand is 1 to 100 ft.3, 0.1 to 10 m3. That’s Water Meter Reading 101.

So I looked at Adam’s brief run-in with his questionable (yet character building) employment memory and began to see some key congruencies to ...well…me.

Adam and Jax similarities:

-We’ve both done some water maintenance work with our dad. He worked with the H2O in the projects and I skimmed the pool at my childhood house.

-He did water work in the South(Bronx) and I worked in the Southern US.

-We’re both Caucasian and Jewy

I did receive a STRONG response to the bizzaro job question. To vent is to heal. Interesting note, when piecing some of the answers together, I discovered a delightful cadence that seemed to write itself: Let’s take a look:

Most Fu**ed up Job?

Assistant fluffer.
-Ted Kim

Weed delivery dispatcher.
-Tanya True

And Jax loses points for not introducing me to Tanya.
-Ted Kim

Is Tim for real!?
-Emily Fitch

If by Tim you mean Ted...don't underestimate the trials and tribulations of a sassy Korean from NJ.
-Jacqueline Kabat

Nursing home, sorting dirty silverware. I didn’t wear gloves.
-Mary Schneider

Neither did I.
-Ted Kim

Monday, October 5, 2009

Day 58 - Klan Bake

October 5th, 2009

I hate racists, anti-Semites and Martha Stewart. Growing up in the South, it wouldn’t have been uncommon to have run-ins with my first two grievances. People might have been racist or anti-Semitic… but they were ABSOLUTELY lovely about it. You might hear something like, “Oh, ya know..the Holocaust never happened. Would y’all like some sweat tea?” My disdain for Ms. Stewart derives from a primal vibe that no perfect muffin, table setting or gardening tip can overshadow that there is an evil demon living deep inside her well manicured so-called soul.

As comedians, sometimes our only tool to make sense of the insensible is to dive headfirst into the issues that don’ settle well. Sometimes, attempting to navigate our way though the warped psyche of the people who lack tolerance is a good place to start. A few years a ago I wrote a sketch entitled “Klan Bake” that combined my previously mentioned stressors. It was a Martha Stewart-esque cooking show that provided the audience tips for how to cook more “white”. I played the host, Kathy White, a crazy eyed southern version of Ms. Stewart. Also, in order to really drive the ridiculous point home, we wore white sheets. If someone didn’t “get the joke”, it might have appeared that we were the most intolerant unethical group of performers to have ever crossed a stage. That in itself is ironic since our group consisted of a Jew, a black man, a homosexual and a hippie. Minus a few dissenters, this sketch always seemed to work and years later people still remember it. And creating something memorable that actually says something(besides fluff with low brow shock value), in my opinion is what artists should strive for.

(Everyone is dressed in white sheets)

KATHY WHITE - :Hi, I’m your host Kathy White and Welcome to Klan Bake.

(Martha Stewart morning show Jingle)

Martin Luther King Day is right around the corner. What does that mean? You might be tempted to eat darker food like chocolate, dark meat and more chocolate. Joining us is bestselling author of “Cooking Lite…as in White”, Chef Scooter Travis. He’s going to give us a better idea how to make “eating white” a lot more interesting. It's not just about white bread and all-purpose flour anymore, is it Scooter?

SCOOTER TRAVIS: No, it's not. Cooking whiter can be really fun. Just like any other time that we’re cooking “lite” , we can use what's whitest in the market. Today I’ve brought white potatoes, white rolls, cauliflower, white gravy and of course …pork, the most superior white meat.

(Scooter starts arranging food on plate)

KATHY WHITE - :Hmmm…looks delicious and packed with Aryan goodness.

SCOOTER TRAVIS –It really is Kathy. It’s the perfect meal for your annual White Supremacist BBQ.

KATHY WHITE - …or my anti-Semitic Luau...

SCOOTER TRAVIS –Kathy, when serving this meal…good presentation is a must. Be sure…and I repeat be sure to place the cauliflower to the FAR RIGHT of your pork.

KATHY WHITE - awww the FAR RIGHT…a bold choice Scooter, (To audience) one really can’t underestimate the importance of food segregation.

SCOOTER TRAVIS –This is very true Kathy. Also, a little trick I like to do is to serve the mashed potatoes in the shape of a swastika.

KATHY WHITE – That is just adorable…and almost too pretty to eat… (Scooter and Kathy chuckle simultaneously with a hint of sexual tension)

(Brother Gelman in a Nazi outfit marches up and gives a Heil Hitler Salute from audience)

KATHY WHITE – Looks like Brother Gelman is giving us the queue that we need to go to commercial…we’ll be right back…


Cross burnings and lynchings can really do a number on your whites.(Actor holds up dirty sheet and looks flustered ) Do you wonder how you’ll ever remove the grass, sweat and blood stains from your sheets and pointed pillow case hoods? ( Actor nods yes) Since the Ku Klux Klan was formed as a social club by a group of Confederate Army Veterans in Pulaski, Tennessee in 1865, Negro Tide has been helping racist families fight tough laundry stains and keep their sheets looking great. (Actor holds up Negro Tide) The Negro Tide’s advanced cleaning power is even found in the Grand Wizard’s laundry room….shouldn’t it be in yours?(Smiling, the actor holds up Negro Tide and a clean sheet. Gives a
thumbs up)


KATHY WHITE - : Welcome back to Klan Bake and with us today is Chef Scooter Travis, author of “Cooking Lite…as in White”. Scooter, any wines suggestions to accompany this feast?

SCOOTER TRAVIS –Kathy, any white wines would be lovely. A Sauvignon Blanc, perhaps a Pinot Grigio, or, dare I say, a Chardonnay

KATHY WHITE - : Would you agree that any other wine other than white…is the devil’s wine?

SCOOTER TRAVIS –Indeed Kathy. Lucifer loves the Merlot.

KATHY WHITE - : I’ll say. Scooter, thank you so much for joining us and congratulations on the success of your book. Anyone spreading the message of white power through culinary expression is a friend of ours at Klan Bake. (To audience) David Duke will be with us tomorrow to show us how to safely roast marshmallows from our burning crosses. Good Day


The End