Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Day 380 - Ask Jax - Part 35

December 22nd, 2010

This is the 35th installment of my "Ask Jax" series. I'm open to answering ANY of your pressing inquiries with little to no thought, accuracy and sensitivity.

Why is everyone so upset with full body scans? - Eric Bergson, Seattle, Washington

Jax’s Answer: Simple. It’s foreplay without the sex. If you’re not going to close the deal…please refrain from enticing us with those phallicly shaped seductive body scanning devices that make our bodies tingle with heightened pleasure. Plus, I find the airline body scan tease analogous to the time when someone slipped a roofie in my drink…and didn’t even take advantage of me. You know who you are. Shame on you.

Can you buy an entire chess set in a pawnshop? - Claudia Mizrahi , Brooklyn, New York

Jax’s Answer: Sorry to say, most of us Jewish girls who grew up upper middle class aren’t versed in the world of pawnshops. However, if you’d like to join me for Chinese on Sunday night, I’m available.

I get sad when I think of Helen Keller. Do you? – Anonymous, Orlando, Florida
Jax’s Answer: Not as sad as I feel for this girl playing the deaf blind girl in the following community theater production of the Miracle Worker:

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Day 379 - Ask Jax - Part 34

December 9th, 2010

This is the 35th installment of my "Ask Jax" series. I'm open to answering ANY of your pressing inquiries with little to no thought, accuracy and sensitivity.

When will I see you? - JillSchimmel, New York, New York

Jax Answer - Yes, there are times when I have been compared to Keyser Söze, often spoken of...but never seen. I do work in mysterious ways. Well my sweet Jill, you can feel me with you at all times if you use your third eye while on a disturbingly intense acid trip. Look for me between the 2 animated dancing bears. If you can't find me there...try the Olive Garden in Times Square.

What do you think of one night stands? - Anonymous, Seattle, Washington

Jax's Answer - - Eh, not so into them. When it comes to sex, why have a Twinkie when you could have a crème brûlée? However,in this economy, I do salute the prostitutes utilizing their sexin' for a fee. A slew of one nightstands= Pretty kick ass work ethic.

If I have an itch, should I scratch it? - Adam Holtz, New York, New York

Jax's Answer - There are some questions that the universal answer will always be an absolutely no doubt about it I 'd swear on my mother's grave...and your mother's grave...YES. This is one of those. If you have an itch, for the love of Jesus Harold Christ, scratch it. If you want to torture yourself, watch the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills...while eating nails. Other inquiries that would always be answered with an affirmative:

- Does a man in a black turtleneck and black pants look like Phil Collins in the No Jacket Required album cover? - Yes

- Is today tomorrow's yesterday? - Yes

- Is it abnormal if a straight guy doesn't fantasize about a threesome? - Yes

*A question Ask Jax would have to research would be: Does a mime shit in the woods? This I do not know.

Can fat people go skinny-dipping? - Claudia Mizrahi, Brooklyn, New York

Jax's Answer - Now this question would require the exact opposite stance. My answer to "Can fat people go skinny dipping?" is NO. In truth, they can. But should they? No. No they should not. Think about it. Ew. The following are some questions that would always be answered with the negative:

- Is it right when you see a kid on a leash and a dog in stroller. - No

- DidAsk Jaxgive you your venereal disease? - No

- Do you think that OJ Simpson was just "misunderstood"...? - No

*However, I am unsure of the following: Does OJ Simpson shit in the woods? Again, not sure about this.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Day 378 - Ask Jax - Part 33

December 1st, 2010

This is the 33rd installment of my "Ask Jax" series. I'm open to answering ANY of your pressing inquiries with little to no thought, accuracy and sensitivity.

Who likes ice cream more, Ben or Jerry? - Mike Webster, Brooklyn, New York

Jax's Answer - Ben & Jerry's was originally called Ben, Jerry & Howie's. Ben Cohen, Jerry Greenfield and Howie McJewishshtein were childhood friends and dessert pioneers who made the world take notice of frozen dairy. They were rewarded with fast cars, fast woman and a plaque from the Surgeon General praising their effort to contribute to America's obesity epidemic. The ice cream empire's downward spiral began when Howie realized that he was the only one pulling the weight when coming up with innovative flavor combinations. Cherry Garcia, Chunky Monkey and Chubby Hubby were all his creations. Meanwhile, Ben and Jerry were responsible for poorly received flavors like Nails & Honey, Oprah Saliva and Vanilla. It did not go over well when Howie confronted his two partners about their lack of creativity. In a deserted Vermont field, Ben and Jerry doused Howie with hot fudge and lighter fluid. His body was never recovered. Oh yes. Who likes ice cream more, Ben or Jerry? Neither care for it. They're lactose intolerant.

Why has it been storming for 24 hours straight. Tell me Jax. Why? - Anonymous, Princeton, New Jersey

Jax's Answer: Rain. God's way of orchestrating a wet t-shirt contest. Perv. But I still want to win.

The annual Christmas tree lighting that takes place in New York City's Rockefeller Center, why all the hype?- Jill Jones, Brooklyn, New York

Jax's answer - I've never really bought into the excessive publicity around this live broadcast. In fact, it troubles me that NBC execs scout out country folk and offer a cash exchange for these people's most prized possession, a 100 foot spruce. People with a giant spruce, I assume your freakishly large tree even has the initials of lovers carved into it. That's adorable. Don't sell out. Interesting note, the original premise of the book, The Giving Tree, wasn't a tale about a long term relationship between a young boy and a tree in a forest. In the original, the boy was approached by the Rockefeller Center higher ups and had no qualms about giving his tree away for their ceremony. This happened on page 2. It was a short book. More of a pamphlet.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Day 377 - Ask Jax - Part 32

November 24th, 2010

This is the 32nd installment of my "Ask Jax" series. I'm open to answering ANY of your pressing inquiries with little to no thought, accuracy and sensitivity.

What is the cheapest airline ticket I can buy that will let me get a nice pat down with no intention of ever getting on the flight? - Jason Maxham, Chicago, IL

Jax’s Answer – US "I Will Violate You in Ways That Will Lead to Shame and Confusion" Air

Is the sparrow better in Istanbul near the fire? – Paul Hale, Brooklyn, NY

Jax’s Answer. – If I had a nickel for every time I was asked this question, I’d have 5 cents. The sparrow is absolutely NOT better in Istanbul near the fire. These plump brown-grey birds make the mistake of nesting in buildings in large cities and Istanbul is the 5th largest city in the world with a population of 12.8 million. Sparrow roasting on an open fire (which is also a hit Turkish holiday song) is considered a delicacy in this Far East metropolis. Note to readers. Shall you decided to travel to Istanbul and treat yourself to this succulent dish, I suggest topping it with some A-1 Steak Sauce and a sprig of parsley.

What was Willis talking about? - Dan Neveloff, New York, NY

Jax’s Answer – Seldom discussed was the fact that Willis adhered to the doctrine of opposition to the social and political establishment. So, as it turns out, Willis was talking about Anti establishmentarianism. He was simply trying to explain that he viewed our nation's power structure as corrupt, exploitative and repressive. Also...sometimes, he was talking about bacon.

Friday, November 19, 2010

Day 376 - Ask Jax - Part 31

November 19, 2010

This is the 31st installment of my "Ask Jax" series. I'm open to answering ANY of your pressing inquiries with little to no thought, accuracy and sensitivity.

Why do I find random condoms on the side of the street, on the side walk, even in the park, are there really that many people having sex in public places and they can't throw their used or even unused condoms in a trash bin? Tell me Jax, WHHHHHHHHHY??? - Shelby Richter, Somewhere with Horses, Colorado

Jax’s Answer - Sorry, I'll try to be tidier with my used condoms.

Is it true that women can tell within the first hour of the first date.....?? – Brian Baron, Brooklyn, New York

Jax’s Answer – Absolutely. If a man has a weak handshake, a wandering eye and is wearing a “Bedbugs are Just Misunderstood” t-shirt…then run. Like the wind. Ladies, I also suggest observing how he treats the wait staff. This is how he will treat you in 20 years. As for me, I insist that my date bring a copy of his W-2’s for me to peruse. Let’s not waste our time.

How do people with no arms clean up after using the toilet??? - Jeremy Berk, Los Angeles, California

Jax’s Answer - In 1985, a Trivial Pursuit question taught me that the tongue is the strongest muscle in the body. That is all.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Day 375 - Ask Jax - Part 30

This is the 30th installment of my "Ask Jax" series. I'm open to answering ANY of your pressing inquiries with little to no thought, accuracy and sensitivity.

Why do people groom in public? - Michelle Kraskin, New York, New York

Jax’s Answer: I used to ponder the same conundrum. Then, for the sake of research, I shaved my armpits while walking down 5th Avenue. Never been happier.

What's up with some people never being on time? Paul Hale, Brooklyn New York

Jax’s Answer - The chronically late tend to irritate even those of us who are good natured and patient. I pride myself in being a prompt person so I am generally the recipient of some genuine and inane excuses when someone is a fan of tardiness. I think it really comes down to two types of people who fail to arrived at designated times. Those who have a legitimate excuse and those who are assholes. Be gentle with those who lost track of time because…

- they had to stop at the ATM to get you money for just being a nice guy.
- they were saving a kitten from a tree. It was a Persian.
- they noticed a questionable package on the subway. They saw something. And said something.

Consider removing the tardy offender from your life if they failed to show up on time because…

- they were on the phone with your mom…discussing your failures.
- they were at a “Save the Bedbugs” rally.
- they were putting a questionable package on the subway.

I just got reamed out by a gay man via email and he won’t return my calls to discuss the matter at hand? - Anonymous, San Francisco, California

Jax’s Answer - Ahhh yes,the one who throws the grenade into the woods then runs out of the forest. They’re precious. Simple: If you’re gonna be such a bitch… don't be such a pussy.


Friday, November 5, 2010

Day 374 - Ask Jax - Part 29

November 5th, 2010

This is the 29th installment of my "Ask Jax" series. I'm open to answering ANY of your pressing inquiries with little to no thought, accuracy and sensitivity.

Is it wrong that I get annoyed when people say, “Let us not forget 9-11?” – Anonymous, New York, New York

Jax’s Answer: Not as wrong as my friend who says, “Let us not forget 11-9.” He found out 2 months late.

Is seeing someone who lives in NJ geographic relationship suicide? - Heather Antonelli, Brooklyn, New York

Jax’s Answer: If your geographical preferences lean toward an over-paved gloomy wasteland that’s spiritually dead, then I think your relationship has the capacity to develop into something that could benefit your mind, body and spirit. Or at least just your body. I say proudly saunter across the Hudson and nuzzle comfortably in the bosom of your new man. Just watch out for the gold chain. Also, please remove your bumper sticker that says: Jersey, A Good Place to Pass Through. At Night. While you’re there, I recommend also disposing of the bumper sticker that reads: DUKAKIS '88.

Can people change - Page Newsom Pelphrey, Guilford Connecticut

According to a Brady Brunch song that aired January 14th, 1972, the world learned that people can indeed change. Let’s review the lyrics to “Time To Change” which allowed Peter to embrace his awkward journey through puberty.

“When it's time to change, then it’s time to change

Don't fight the tide, come along for the ride, don't you see

When it's time to change, you've got to rearrange

who you are into what you're gonna be.

Sha na na na, na na na na na, sha na na na na

Sha na na na, na na na na na, sha na na na na"

Powerful stuff. We too should take Peter’s lead and know that we can overcome the fear of change… of course, only through Brady song.

Have you ever had sex while coming off sodium pentothal and hopped up on Jack Daniels and Percocet?Scott Stern, Los Angeles, California

Jax’s Answer: According to my rash, yes…yes I have.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Day 373 - Ask Jax - Part 28

October 31st, 2010

This is the 28th installment of my "Ask Jax" series. I'm open to answering ANY of your pressing inquiries with little to no thought, accuracy and sensitivity. Remember there are no stupid questions. Just stupid people who ask questions.

If the professor on Gilligan’s Island can make a radio out of a coconut, why can't he fix a hole in a boat? - Claudia Mizrahi, Brooklyn, New York

Jax’s Answer: Clearly the professor did possess the technical skills to remedy the holy boat…but ultimately decided against utilizing his expertise. Why? Life on a remote island can get lonely. And kinky. Growing tired of Gilligan’s dimwitted shenanigans, the 3 attractive shipwrecked passengers, the professor, Ginger and Mary Ann partook in provocatively deviant threesomes that involved bamboo, a stethoscope and enthusiasm. Skipper filmed. The professor had no inclination to return home to his wife, a professor who taught” The Benefits of Being Frigid.”

A few days ago I spent $18 on a whole red snapper. It seemed like a lot of fish, but when we got down to it, it wasn't really that much bang for the buck. How do you shop for seafood and make sure you get quality for the money? - Jon Reitzes, Brooklyn, New York

Jax’s Answer: Mistake # 1 one. You were seduced by the glamour and mystique of the "faux meaty" red snapper, the so-called “prized culinary white-fish". You need to think outside of the fish tank and be willing to explore lesser known edible impressively fleshy fish that still satisfy your craving for fishy goodness. Budget friendly options include mermaids, mermen and sushi that’s been marinating in 90 degree weather for 3 days.

Kermit vs. Yoda? - Jarod Kearney, Staunton, Virginia

Jax’s Answer - Let me ask you this Jarod. If injustice came your way, who would you seek solace with?

1 –An incredibly powerful Jedi Master who can teach you the way of the force.


2 –A felt amphibian who dates a pig and can only communicate when there’s a hand up his ass.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Day 372 - Hot. Or Not

October 27th, 2010

It’s been brought to my attention (by me) that there are two types of attractive people in the world:

1) Those who won the genetic lottery from day one and have sauntered through life exhibiting undeniable good looks.

2) Then there are those that started off with a low rating on the attractive scale and then became united with the gift of good looks later in life.

When I speak of “attractive” in this entry, I am not including stellar personalities and someone with an essence that exudes a golden light. I’m reaching for the lowest common denominator and only defining beauty in the superficial physical sense. You know that beautiful person. The one who undoubtedly provokes an extended glance from anyone with a heartbeat (and genitals) regardless of gender, religion, race, social status, political leanings, sexual preferences, etc.

My limited to no research on this topic was piqued when I lived in Greenwich Village and had a neighbor whose olive complexioned good looks would warrant 2 thumbs up. From people with opposable thumbs. My instincts told me that he landed in the cute all his life category. To my delight, we started talking in the hall, the elevator and outside the building. Then “rational Jax” bitch slapped “heart is flutter” Jax and pointed out that my building crush was the only one doing the talking. About his perceived awesomeness. He was trying to launch some upscale men’s magazine whose target audience seemed to be men who were also attractive for their whole lives. Rational Jax was right. All I was doing was smiling and nodding. And my neck hurt.

Could it be that those who spend a lifetime relying on good looks have been cursed with underdeveloped personalities? The reason I ask is because I have vacillated from good stages to bad stages in the looks arena for a lifetime. Here’s the time line:

Age 0-2 – Really challenging time for Jax. I was “eh” looking and the exaggeration of fat. This perplexed my viewers as my parents were called Ken & Barbie and my older brother was oh so Gerber baby.

Ages 3-9 – This was a happy time for me. I slimmed out, grew long blond hair and finally looked like I was a Kabat. I was the quintessential waspy looking Jew. Bonus that I was featured in the local newspaper. Decorating a Christmas tree.

Ages 10-12 – These were gut wrenching years of an insecure preteen horror show and the beginning of frequent trips to the dermatologist. He looked like Phil Donahue.

Age 13 – I had a brief puberty year of hotness. Older men looked at my body. Flattering. And creepy.

Age 14- Today – Continued good days and bad days. On July 17th, 1995 I looked great in the morning and lost my game by the afternoon.

I assume flowing through life with multiple levels of attractiveness was the catalyst for developing somewhat of a personality. On the contrary, my old neighbor seemed to be sliding by because of never living the agony of sub par looks. Interesting note, rational Jax just informed me that his body has taken a downward spiral and has become shaped like a pear.

Sometimes this developed personality of mine is that of an asshole.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Day 371 - Harriet Simon Kabat

October 19th, 2010

Eulogy for Harriet Simon Kabat – by Jacqueline Kabat
March18th, 1920 – October 15th, 2010

Harriet Kabat, the selfless force of nature truly grateful for the world around her. My Cousin Elaine’s husband Brad summed her up with precision. “She keeps the light on for everyone.” Why? Because that’s what family does .That’s my Grandmother.

She devoted her life to maintaining a joie de vivre and making every member of her family feel special. The most special.

She taught the world (by example) that we have the choice to experience a joyful life when we devote every moment to authentic compassion, strength in character and laughter.

“Honey,” She’d tell me. “We’re a laughing family.”
During this last month, she didn’t want tears. Only laughter. And that we shared with her.

Even as her physical health rapidly declined, she remained strong in emotion. Strong in spirit. And very much at peace. As her final gift, the matriarch who had been our constant cheerleader and nurturer gave us the opportunity to discover a strength in ourselves by allowing us to care for her. Without words, we knew that she was sighing in contentment and thinking, “My family…I am so lucky…”

Jewish tradition and philanthropy were ingrained in her ethical core values. Last week, we discovered a Beth David Synagogue newsletter from 1961 where Grandma and Grandpa were welcomed as newcomers: It read, "We are very happy to announce that MR. AND MRS. JULIAN KABAT have joined our congregation. We hope that they will participate actively in our many programs.” That they did. Grandma maintained strong ties with Beth David throughout her life, served as the President of the Sisterhood and was a life member of Hadassah.

I was truly blessed to grow up around the corner from my grandparents. Their house was home. To her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, their friends, our friends and even travelling rabbis who they would welcome into their kosher home. My heart feels the fullest when I recall our shared holiday meals of eating grandmas brisket, lamb chops and matzo bri. Another Grandma signature dish were her apple and cherry pies (that later we discovered were premade Mrs. Smith’s from Winn Dixie.)

Grandma loved games. Scott, Elaine and I would sit around her kitchen table for hours playing cards, dreidel and, of course, the Grandma signature… heated and competitive rounds of rummy cue.

We’d lay in bed with Grandma and Grandpa for cuddly sleepovers and Scott and I would be in awe of the impressive hot water heater at their house at 610 Woodvale Drive.

Grandma believed in us. Grandma laughed with us. Grandma hugged us. Grandma listened to us. Her reply to many of my profound and inane little girl statements were “How about that?!”

Grandma and Grandpa cheered on their grandchildren at t-ball games, piano recitals, swim meets, gymnastic tournaments, soccer games and exhibited the most heighted form of love with their willingness to sit through my 2 minutes of stage time during 6 hour dance recitals.

My grandparents were part of a beautiful love story. In the morning, Grandma would sit at the kitchen table in her robe (braless), drinking a black cup of coffee, eating toast and laughing out loud while reading the comics. Even then, Grandpa would praise the woman he adored by describing her as “a vision.”

In 1944, Grandpa proposed to Grandma at the Copacabana while they were dancing to the song, String of Pearls. During her last days, we played this song over and over for her. Even without words, it was clear that she heard it as she held my Aunt Roberta’s hand, pulled it up to her cheek and peacefully smiled.

In her last week, we also read to Grandma the 50 years of profoundly tender, passionate and humorous love letters that Grandpa sent to her.

37 years ago, on Mother’s Day, he wrote the following:

On The Thirteenth of May in Seventy Three
The Kabats were gathered around the tree
No, that would be a Christmas song
And for this time of year, t'would be wrong
The family is gathered in celebration
For the greatest mom in all the nation
She may have grown gray from all her trials
But she's OK for a lot more miles
A set of girls and a set of boys
Has given her boundless and endless joys
In the race of "moms", she's an easy winner
So tonight we'll take her out to dinner
And to show our love, by golly, by heck
We'll tell the waiter to give her the check.

This past March, 35 relatives gathered in Charlotte, North Carolina for Grandma’s 90th birthday celebration. For three days, four generations of Kabats just “hung out” eating the 60 Omaha steaks Grandma bought, drinking from Elaine and Brad’s “rockin’” bar in their basement, taking family portraits and watching little girls dance in princess dresses. As Grandma sat in her thrown like chair, people kept circulating to visit. She looked so happy and said, “Grandpa is looking down and watching every move.”

At this birthday celebration, I sat with Elaine’s two angelic children (Lila is 5 and Joanna is 8) and asked them a few questions about their Bubby.

Jax - What do you want to tell Bubby?

Joanna – I’ve lost seven teeth now

Lila - I love her

Jax - Do you like cuddling with Bubby in her bed?

Lila & Joanna - Yes. Because she’s cuddly.

Jax – What’s your favorite gift from Bubby?

Joanna – The money. For my first tooth

Lila –A baby the doll

Jax - What’s the doll’s name?

Lila - Baby Harriet

Jax – What do you like best about Bubby?

Lila – She is funny

Joanna – She is very funny and makes me laugh a lot. When I think of Bubby I think of her kindness.

On the last night of Grandma’s birthday celebration, the family participated in a formal tribute and all shared funny stories, sentimental memories and even video footage from her cousin Barbara’s wedding at her house in 1954. It was happiness. It was real. It was an overwhelming reminder that we have had so many good days.

Everyone was s laughing. And crying. The kind of tears Grandma would approve of. There was a collective understanding that this was a pivotal weekend dedicated to the woman who flowed through life humbly and gracefully.

As I conclude, I’d like to share an interview I had with Grandma at her 90th birthday that I feel captures the essence of Harriet Kabat.

Jax - You had an accident a few years ago that resulted with a “dead pinkie”…tell us about that day?

Grandma Harriet – That’s true. I was having a mahjong game and my ladies were coming for lunch. I was making a very lovely lunch of stuffed tomatoes with tuna salad. And then I was making iced tea… the pitcher dropped, broke and cut my finger. I wrapped it in a sanitary napkin and continued to fix my lunch for my ladies. They suggested that I call the doctor. But first I played Mahjong because there was money involved. I left for the hospital in the middle of the game. My pinkie needed surgery and it’s never been the same since.

Jax - Have you ever repeated any stories?

Grandma Harriet – Oh noooooo…

Jax- -When did you know that you were in love with Grandpa?

Grandma Harriet: The moment I met him. He worked at a firm in Paterson, NJ which is where I grew up. He knew the same people that I knew. And we were married seven months later.

Jax - You tell long stories. Do you feel it’s important to treat it like an endurance sport and hydrate in between?

Grandma Harriet – (laughing) I just like to talk.

Jax– If anything happens in life that is hard…how do you deal with it?

Grandma Harriet–Deal with it

Jax – Any regrets in your life?

Grandma Harriet – None. No regrets.

Jax- You ran bingo for years at your independent living. What was the biggest scandal?

Grandma Harriet – People were talking too loud at the wrong times so I yelled, “Be quiet!”

Jax– Any word of advice for your family?

Grandma Harriet– Just be happy with each other. Nothing makes me happier than the fact that you are all very close. I want it to stay that way. Or else you’ll hear from me. I’m the luckiest lady at this point in anyone’s life. I have more than anyone. I have all my children, grandchildren and great children. Everyone around me is very special. Each and every one has their little way. And they make me feel special.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Day 370 - Be My Literary Agent and I Will Buy You a Pony

October 4th, 2010

In order to seek an agent who will pitch my book proposal to publishers, I am throwing my book overview out to the virtual community....where stars are born...and legends are made. If you help me, I will return the favor in ways that are ethical and legal.

- Jax


Jacqueline’s concept for the book is to share a series of compelling essays that takes readers on a hilariously fun ride by dissecting universal topics through the skewed prism of her comedic and insightful sensibility. People will identify with the vivid pictures that she paints while using her original, unflinchingly candid and one of a kind trademark wit to cross the bridge that connects her heart to her head.

Jacqueline trusts her comedic instincts and her “we’re all in this together” approach to humorously guide her in sharing her over the top witty, honest and fearless points of views for readers to consider. Her essays are a catalyst that allows readers to express (through laughter) the anxiety they feel around life serving up ironic, maddening and sheer ridiculous circumstances.

The information in the book comes from Jacqueline’s lifetime of finding the absurd in the ordinary and 14 years of expertise, material and lessons learned from being a professional Manhattan based comedian involved in all aspects of stand-up comedy, improvisation, teaching comedy, sketch writing and blogging. From August 2009-August 2010, Jacqueline committed to writing daily essays in her 365 Day Blog Entry Challenge of Cosmic Angst Through the Eyes of Comedic Insight. Much of the book will be derived from the topics from the year’s project. Please visit her blog:

The engaging tone of Jacqueline’s work feels as if she is really “talking to” her readers and keenly aware that they’re strangers looking at her view of life for the first time. As a result, she has the ability to use her insightful comedic instincts to connect and tap into the pulse of her readers with humor, introspection and lack of pretense. Jacqueline’s uniqueness has served her in all aspects of her comedic career as she is an “urban cool” sexy tall blond Jew from the south who allows her readers to feel less isolated in a world filled with ironic circumstances. When most people are afraid to speak their mind, Jacqueline’s voice reaches male and female readers in metropolitan areas as much as those in middle-America who all “hear” her spot on delivery and conversational tone without being indulgent.

The promise of this book is that Jacqueline will succeed in entertaining a broad audience by sharing her intrinsically funny speaking voice, vulnerability and clarity that lets the audience know that they are reading for pleasure, comfort and the notion that they’re not alone in being perplexed by life’s oddities. Readers are guaranteed a therapeutic laugh without hallmark-cardesque nausea. Whether it's read in one sitting or one essay at a time, Jacqueline will accomplish in taking her readers on a comic trip that embraces the lives they’re living while giving them permission to let go of feeling guilty about who they are, laugh at things that they relate to on an emotional level and gain a sense of belonging in a world where people are desperately craving authenticity and connections. 

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Day 369 – You Can’t Change the World by Freaking People Out

September 21, 2010

Dear Over The Top New Agey Types,

You can’t change the world by freaking people out.

New Agers…I write to you as a group(even though I’m certain that it’s safe to assume that some of your names are Dandelion Vegan, Harmony Dosha and Tom Cruise.)

You guys have been approaching me for years assuming that I possess those “Je ne sais what” attributes that would make me the obvious choice to join your cohesive social groups of lost souls. Your unyielding perseverance continues to perplex me (and I’m not even wearing my “I’m interested in joining a cult. Just ask me” t-shirt. It’s a cotton blend. Breathes well.)

Sure. There might be wisdom to reconnecting to the flow of lives through worldly energies, universal powers and geometric symbols...but your heavily doused patrouille makes me too nauseous to even consider your argument.

Please understand that I was born with that seeker gene and open to exploring tools that succeed in making our lives more sensible, purposeful and peaceful. I use comedy. It’s a safe tool. I’ll even throw you a bone (oh’re a vegetarian. I’ll toss over some tofu residue) and won't deny that your claims that my only hope for salvation is to seek solace through angels, ascended masters, ghosts, space aliens and Oprah. I’m just not convinced that these “entities” would choose a person with poor personal hygiene to proselytize their wisdom. Ironic that you stand on a soap box when there seems to be no soap involved. Take a shower...then I’d consider taking your pamphlet. For a toilet read.

So watch out new age fanatics. I will cut you. Just kidding. Oh sorry, you don’t laugh? My bad.

But I will retaliate. Gently.

As I shared on day 15, Jax’s Cult, my agenda is to aggressively recruit you and your target audience to join “Jax’s Cult”, the hippest and most exclusive cult that ever was. The only parameter is that my members are super cool. At our first meeting, I see addressing my followers with the following: “Great to have you all in my super cool exclusive cult. Just to be clear, you must have super cool/exclusive tendencies and have an affinity for Kool–Aid, comets, incense and Nikes. In Jax’s Cult, we don’t really have offerings, sacrificing and mass suicides(on weekdays)…. we’re more into smoking pot, watching LOST, eating Chunky Monkey out of the carton…napping.”

I even have a coffee mug that says: World’s Greatest Cult Leader. I bought it for myself.

If you’re interested in joining, please contact my assistant Voldar at Voldar@Jax’ 



Monday, September 20, 2010

Day 368 - Ask Jax - Part 27

September 20th, 2010

This is the 27th installment of my "Ask Jax" series. Although I have completed my 365 day blog entry challenge, continuing to regurgitate blog seems to clear my mind as I am putting together my book pitch to submit to agents. I'm open to answering ANY of your pressing inquiries with little to no thought, accuracy and sensitivity. Remember there are no stupid questions. Just stupid people who ask questions. Also, Universe, if you're wondering if I'm interested in, ready and able to have my own Ask Jax column in a reputable publication...the answer is yes. Yes I am.

If the pen is mightier than the sword...where does the pencil fit into the equation? - Pete Schwinge, Brooklyn York

Jax’s Answer - Sadly, the pencil has been obliterated from the equation altogether since the pen catapulted into fame and became the “it” writing utensil in the world of “writing to paper”. The pencil is the Blackberry to the iPhone of pens, the Gary Busey to the Nick Nolte, the Stedman to the Oprah. The Number 2 pencils avoided extinction for some time… but ultimately joined the already ousted Number 1 and 3 pencils working as souvlaki skewers at a restaurant with a questionable sanitary rating, Sharwarma Hut.

How can my microwave determine exactly when my popcorn is ready but can't ever figure out when my brisket is warm enough to eat? – Brian Levy, Dallas, Texas

Jax’s Answer

1) Brisket = Popular Jewish holiday dish

2) Microwave= Unable to determine when brisket is warm enough to eat.

3) Microwave= Anti-Semitic

Is it true that cannibals don't eat clowns because they taste funny? - Claudia Mizrahi, Brooklyn, New York

Jax’s Answer – Even the most sadistic and malicious of cannibals are sane enough not to include clowns into their diets. These flesh eating psychopaths, like me, find clown…creepy. Still find yourself in the delusional group that claims, “Clowns? Whatevs. I’m cool with them.”? Please read my entry on day 175:

Jax’s Clown Detainee Camp. For Clowns. Who Do Clown-like Things

January 30th, 2010

My friend Dan asked me why clowns always have tears.

My question to Dan. Would you be crying if you went through life wearing unusually large footwear, forced to sit in a cramped car with 30 of your peers and frequently accused of molesting children?

The reality: Unusually grotesquely costumed and made up jesters that elicit an amused response in a buffoon-like manner can be the catalyst for a paella of feelings. One’s response to a clown might depend on where it is seen. At the circus, a clown is (relatively) normal and may easily be interpreted as a successful amuser of sorts (but so are gay lion tamers.) The same clown holding a family hostage in their isolated country home is more likely to generate fear and distress rather than laughter and amusement.

Ronald McDonald, the seemingly lovable mascot for McDonald's, is referred to as a molester of the children in the majority of Urban Dictionary’s 34 definitions. Sample sentence: “Poor little Jimmy got 'Ronald' again.” The other definitions more gently refer to him as Adolph Hitler, a Marxist and the code name for a lewd sexual act. Luckily for Ronald, attention has been steered away from him ever since the introduction of the new Burger King mascot. I can think of very few things that would traumatize me more than waking up to the abnormally smiley plastic faced “Creepy King” handing me his Whopper while the “Have it Your Way” jingle is playing amongst the chirping birds. You know what Burger King marketing execs? I don’t want it that way. Besides, who wants to eat a hamburger consisting of a flame grilled quarter-pound beef patty, sesame seed bun, mayonnaise, lettuce, tomato, pickles, ketchup and sliced onion first thing in the morning. Come on.

So Dan, yes clowns might be crying but you know who else might be shedding tears? We are. Clowns have been terrorizing us since the beginning of time (and "Poltergeist") and they can’t make up for it by twisting balloons into puppies, swords and intestines.

Followers of my blog know that I have a dream of starting a line of Baby Doo-rags. For babies. In baby gangs. I also have another heartfelt agenda that I am voicing for the first time on day 175 of my 365 blog day entry challenge. Jax’s Clown Detainee Camp. For clowns. Who do clown-like things. With the help of Jack Bauer and being forced to spend 18 hours a day miming for blind people, clowns will be stripped of all that has caused gut wrenching fear and dread over the human race for years.

The jig is up Bozo.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Day 367 - Ask Jax - Part 26

August 31st, 2010

This is the 26th installment of my "Ask Jax" series. Although I have completed my 365 day blog entry challenge, continuing to regurgitate blog seems to clear my mind as I am putting together my book pitch to submit to agents. I'm open to answering ANY of your pressing inquiries with little to no thought, accuracy and sensitivity. Remember there are no stupid questions. Just stupid people who ask questions.

How many people can I blame for an "air biscuit" on an elevator before being discovered? Say 8 others are riding said elevator. - Zachary B Atkinson, Wilmington, North Carolina

Jax's Answer - Your air biscuits, anal acoustics, backdoor breezes and butt blowing bugles are really just cries of imprisoned fecal matter. Blame yourself, own it and just explain to the 8 other elevator passengers that you always get a nervous stomach when you're drunk, disgruntled and have a gun.

What are the winning lottery numbers? - Roberta Scott, San Francisco, California

Jax's Answer - Jenny’s number. 867-5309

When we go out for sushi, my boyfriend only orders California Rolls. What does that say about him? - Anonymous, Madison, Wisconsin.

Jax's Answer - Only eating California is like saying you love the Grateful Dead. But the only song you know is "Truckin'".

So why did the dish run away with the spoon? - Heather Antonelli, Brooklyn, New York

Jax's Answer - The earliest recorded version of the English nursery rhyme "Hey Diddle Diddle" was printed in London in Mother Goose's Melody around 1765, with the lyrics:

High diddle diddle,
The Cat and the Fiddle,
The Cow jump'd over the Moon,
The little dog laugh'd to see such Craft,
And the Dish ran away with the Spoon.

The history. The Dish and the Spoon first met when they were part of a high end Pottery Barn display setting. They were thrown out on the street after Dish was maliciously gossiping about a floral Decorative Pillow Cover being gay. Spoon was ostracized for seducing a Fork and branded as a whore for having a baby, a Spork. Dish and Spoon panhandled on the streets of London before Mother Goose, the Mother Teresa of rescuing impoverished dishware, saved them. Life was good....until Cow jumping over the moon landed on Dish...leaving him cracked, deformed and the plate where the Purina was served to the fiddling cat and laughing dog. Spoon had also reached the peak of humiliation when Mother Goose took a liking to hanging her from her nose. So the Dish and the Spoon got out of dodge in search of a more prestigious life. Where did they runaway to? There was an open call for Judas's place setting at The Last Supper.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Day 366 - I'm Back with a Blog & Tonic. Just Trying to Thrivive.

August 12th, 2010

It's been four days since the last day of my "365 Day Blog Entry Challenge of Cosmic Angst Through the Eyes of Comedic Insight". If you want to peruse the synopsis of my experience of this endeavor, visit and read , "Day 365 - The Finale: Drunk. Drunk off Blog". Next step- pitch as book to literary agents. Goal it ready to submit to agents by September 17th. On deadline and my boss (me) is breathing down my neck. Bitch. And she didn't even wear a bra today.

I'm back bloggin' sooner than expected. It appears as if I have a genetic predisposition for getting drunk. Off blog. My poison? Blog and Tonic. With an umbrella.

Plus, I missed y'all...the rapport, the pillow fights...the walks on the beach discussing feminine products. Sure, I've risked the chance that you've moved on to another blog with a fancier backdrop. I know how you love paisley. I can't commit to daily entries... but just know I am available to be your part time blog lover.

Despite the fact that I am still supersonically driven to take McBlog to the next level, I was feeling a tinge of that sluggish malaise that visits us after those grandiose positive occurrences. Luckily before I got hooked on drowsiness, these happenings kept me in the flow.

- From the largish amounts of congratulations, it turns out that more people were reading than I had assumed. That felt good. Real good.

- I discovered that if printed Day 1 - Day 365, it would equal a 505 page book. My blogasphere output seemed tangible..and I like to touch things.

- My creative genius friend, Amanda Berlin, asked to interview me for the site. According to Amanda, I was a Thrivivalist: (n) thri-vie-vuhl-ist, one who lives in a state of thriving, living life with fervor, with love, and with integrity, minute by minute, not only during times of adversity.

As I never like to disappoint anyone who takes time to blow smoke up my ass, I answered her inquiry with a, "Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!"

I shall share:

What does "thriving" mean to you?

Thriving is directly related to owning your passion, the confidence to carve your own path and keeping your sense of humor. Laughing at our mistakes is an immediate remedy for self criticism. I also feel maintaining a deep empathy for others and yourself is a crucial quality. Making the effort to resonate with others keeps us grounded, selfless and humble. Thriving is the payback we get by tapping into our emotional intelligence to be sensitive, genuine and patient with ourselves and the world around us.

What do you do on a regular basis in an effort to thrive?

Write. I'm not only speaking about my 365 day blog entry challenge. If I say, think, see, hear or feel anything that makes me take pause...I know it's worth holding onto. It might serve me creatively in five minutes or 5 years. I trust that what's reaching me on any level is absolutely connected to my passion.

In what ways have you gone from survival mode to thrivival mode?

I started to embrace my "think outside of the box" wiring. On the last day of my blog I wrote, "Upon review of blogs past... there were days that not only was I out of the box... I was miles away from the box. Or kilometers if I lived in Europe." My readers were appreciating and finding humor in the way I was processing everyday trial and tribulations. This support allowed my writing to develop because I had the confidence that my big, perplexing and amusing choices were resonating with my readers. And myself.

What are some things that get in the way of your efforts to thrive?

Being involved in so many aspects of comedy (performing, writing and teaching) has the potential to feel overwhelming and leave me scattered. The year long blog challenge kept me working, focused and curious. Committing to write everyday forced me to be accountable to my readers. To myself. My life on an "unconventional path" used to make me overly sensitive to what others thought about me. Upon reflection, I've come to realize that I am ultimately judging myself and creating a self sabotaging and debilitating occurrence that will undoubtedly put a halt to my focus, passion and creativity.

If you feel low, how do you boost your level of thriving?

Shifting self-critical thoughts is the first step because one negative idea has the capacity to turn into an 8-lane highway if we allow it be all-consuming. It's unbelievable how unkind we can be to ourselves. I would never treat anyone the way I treat myself at times. I have a very thin veil around me and tend to absorb people's energy very easily. This has been a great challenge when in the company of people who see themselves as victims...but has also served as a powerful healing tool. When life appears to be working against me, I try my best to surround myself with positive people with giving, authentic and loving energy. This seems to clear the negative emotions that could hold me back from success. I also suggest that diving into some creative endeavor can shift a mood quite fast by keeping us present. I've discovered that there is some wisdom to simply approaching fear, shaking hands with it and than transmuting the (real or perceived) fear into any medium of art. I generally process hardship into some form of comedy.

Is there someone whose efforts to thrive you really admire? Who and why?

My students. As a comedy improv teacher, I am aware that most of my students haven't played since they were children. Watching them step out of their comfort zones and unleash all fear and inhibitions never seizes to inspire me. They are constantly reminding me that although there are times we feel off-centered and unsure, there is the potential for us to thrive and become alive by simply getting up, doing something, trying it out, making mistakes, playing, laughing and trying it once again. Teachers teach what they need to learn.

Sunday, August 8, 2010

The Finale - Day 365 - Drunk. Drunk off Blog

August 8th, 2010

I'm feeling pressured. Totally self induced. I feel obliged that this final entry should promise closure, entice your senses and serve up some climactic event that will have you saying, "Wow. That Jax really ended her ‘365 Day Blog Entry Challenge of Cosmic Angst Through the Eyes of Comedic Insight’ in a satisfying way. I’m drunk. Drunk off blog.”

A promise I hope to fulfill: I will reach to my depths to satisfy (despite my performance anxiety.) I’ve developed deep empathy for men feeling the pressure to have "the sex" after heavy alcohol consumption.

One year ago, this I knew:

- I was not prolifically oozing creative gems out of my pores.
- I felt blocked.
- I was in critical need to bring back the “flow" of my life.
- When I am stagnant my spirit is in danger of plummeting.
- Forward movement in my life has always been connected to authentic creative expression.

Our patterns are observed by the sum of our experiences and the through line in my life is very clear to me: My happiness is directly linked to creative expression. Being involved in the arts provides intense bliss. And stress. Seldom anything in between. Quite simply, creativity=health. I figured that committing to a daily blog entry could return me to this flow thing, give my inner creative workings "a place to live” and keep me disciplined and accountable to you. To Me. To Us.

So I took that first step down that invisible staircase.

I know that I flourish artistically when I shake up my environment. Over the last year, my laptop and I have served up blog to you from a Chinese restaurant, my bed, on balconies, on couches, in bars, in the apartments of a few "special" men who have crossed my path this year, airplanes, trains, limos(not the fancy ones), subways, New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Austin, Charleston, SC(3 times), a mid 80's-esque library basement in Sag Harbor, open mics, The Trump Soho Hotel in Soho, The Omega Institute in Rhinebeck, NY, my hair salon, a hospital waiting room when visiting my stepfather, the stoop in front of my apartment and many coffee shops(most notable, Naidre's Cafe down the street from my apartment.)

Then half a year had passed and on day 182 , we celebrated my blog’s half birthday. We ate ½ a cake. With marzipan. Good news: I was over the hump. Bad news: I spent $750 on soy lattes in six months.

At my halfway point, I perused 182 days of material and here’s where I took you. You’re welcome. Or I’m sorry. Your choice. In summation: There have been times that I have been tempted to throw an intervention for myself because I’m a big of fan of crudités, boxes of wine and denial. We learned that tits are powerful and I stopped getting things for free in the winter months when I am covered up. In the summer, the neighborhood scaffolding guy asked for my phone number because I looked like I had a “nice set of personalities.” Choosing a waxer is like picking a lover because both involve an act so intimate which involves endurance, strength, shared sensory experiences and interdependence. My dream is to have a bar called Bar Mitzvah. I’ll have an endless supply of top shelf Manishevitz, patrons will pay in savings bonds and I’ll have a sign behind the bar that says," Hava Nagila Have a Tequila!” I’m convinced that when men go to the bathroom with each other that they joyfully piss on each other while chanting, “God DAMN! I LOVE HAVING A PENIS!!!” I had some reflective days and wrote about being in control of life’s challenges as opposed to allowing them to control us. I conceptualized an ice skating show spectacular entitled “Sure. This is The First Time You Weren’t Able to Maintain an Erection. On Ice.” We learned the power of the blogosphere when someone with the title “Executive in Charge” from Jerry Seinfeld’s production company asked me to take a post down that could be damaging. I did not and wrote a blog entitled “Executive in Charge of Myself.”: You now know that I intend to start a line called Jax's Baby Doo-Rags. For babies. In baby gangs. I tested your knowledge in determining if someone was a Jew, not-a-Jew or Canadian. I shared Jax’s Guidelines For Using Time-Outs With Adults. I admitted to my readers that I feel like I live inside a Broadway musical because I once dated a guy whose last name was Of The Opera…first name, Phantom, I have an usher in my apartment who escorts me to my furniture and I once had a cat that could sing, dance and did a gripping rendition of the song “Memories.” She went on to have a promising film career.. then got involved with the Taco Bell dog and died from a chimichanga overdose. We learned that on Christmas, Moses took Jesus to T.G.I Fridays for his birthday. I created a 12-Step program for hipsters do de-hipsterize. We compared PMS to a tornado, learned how to make love while conscious, read a fairytale entitled “The Serotonin That Lost Its Way” and went inside a purse and learned that our keys are gay.

I made note that if I was in still in the depths of an emotional, physical or a spiritual abyss, I wouldn’t have been able to stick to this project. Especially in the depths of winter. No easy task. There were blizzard like days where I was cursing out loud while walking through “wintry mixes” of evil. But I got to my destination, wiped the tears from my eyes and wrote:

- Day 114 - "The Weather = Satan"
- Day 132 - "Sorry to be Stern Winter. Tough Love"
- Day 137 – (Hot)"Toddy and Avoidance"

Then I softened up on Day 186 when I wrote, “Snow : The Sexiest of the Precipitations”. This entry was a preview for Fox’s newest reality show called “So You Want to be a Water Vapor Falling from the Sky Idol.” Judged by Simon Cowell, Snow won and went to Hollywood. Sadly, it didn’t end well for Hail when Simon said, “Did you really believe that you could become the next ‘Water Vapor Falling from the Sky Idol’? You’re a pathetic excuse for a complex dance between moisture, wind and ice crystals. You have to commit. Do you want to fall to earth or not? Go back to your cumulus cloud, lose some weight and if you want to pursue a career in precipitation, don't.”

At the half way point, I saw that my writing style was directly applicable to my many (many) years of improv experience and a few years of stand up. Improv is only effective when we’re writing on our feet. I took that facet of unscripted performance and applied it to being stringent about conceptualizing what I was going to write each day…on each day. Not before. Also, another fundamental improv rule is to always make your partner look good. Since I write from the assumption that “we’re all in this together”, I tried to be kind to my readers. I hope I succeeded. If not, just remember I think your ass looks great in those jeans.

My learnings from stand up came into play by attempting to write as if I was speaking to you conversationally. Not at you. I find it cathartic to tap into topics that we collectively find ironic and anger arousing…and then I like to put a candy wrapper around it. I discovered that I was choosing the words, using the punctuation and attempting to create a rhythm similar to how I deliver words while on stage(while you were obligated to a 2 drink minimum.)

Jumping into part two of the year’s writing-palooza was notably less daunting. There were hints of spring and I went from having no friends in my neighborhood to 30 friends who are "soul authentic friends" feeding me laughs, depth and reassurance that they have my back. The stage was set for me to apply another pertinent improv rule. Have fun.

I’ve always been told that I can think outside of the box…but upon review of blogs past... there were days that not only was I out of the box… I was miles away from the box. Or kilometers if I lived in Europe. I’m even perplexed and amused that the following were thought processes brought to you by me:

- On day 239 –“How to Resurrect – by Jesus H. Christ” - “This new book at the critics in agreement: “Finally an easy ‘how to’ guide that will have you resurrecting in no time! If you liked Judas’s critically acclaimed ‘Trader. Liar. Friend’...this book’s for you!”

- Day 238 – “Teeth. And Why you Need Them” – “The Tooth Fairy shouldn’t be required to visit anyone after puberty. And come on…like she’s not busy enough. She Tooth fairies at night. And strips during the day.”

- Day 363 – “ Motorcycle Guy: You Are So Cool, It Hurts” - “Ladies, it's of considerable value to prioritize. Let's stay focused. Although it's likely that our motorcycle man's time on earth will be cut short due to a bloody collision on the highway, he's smokin' hot before he expires. We can't consume our thoughts with the negatives that tell us a motorcycle itself provides virtually no protection in a crash. Sure, our special guy will take the full brunt of impact, is at risk of being thrown off the bike and being hit by other vehicles on the road. Bury those thoughts and have the attitude of gratitude. Our guy (that is immune to joy and grief) is assured in his superiority and sends a message of nonconformity. Except, of course, conforming to other men who ride motorcycles.”

As I was getting closer to day 365, I wanted to continue to have fun, grow and learn. And learn I did. While experiencing(and writing about) an intense case of writer’s block on day 203. I learned that there was an ailment that I have never suffered from - Penis panic. Sufferers become convinced that their genitals are disappearing into their bodies. It can be contagious and penis panic swept through Singapore in 1967 and thousands of men became convinced that their penises were being stolen. This was information I was unaware of on day 202.

Interesting note, I celebrated both of my grandmother’s 90th birthdays during this writing project. I used my blog as the place to document how pivotal these 2 women have been in my life. Not only did I share my tributes with my readers, I shared them with my grandmothers. Very Poignant. Expressing gratitude to those we love should always be shared when we have our time together. Do it. Just do it. Seriously.

Another granmotherly opportunity presented material that I got from a happy hour…at my grandmother’s assisted living. A few memories from Day 112 “Nonchalant Observer -Installment #3 – Retirement Community Happy Hour”.

- “ Grandma ‘parks’ her walker amongst many others across the hall. I’m thinking there should be a public service announcement commercial with someone like Chuck Norris saying, ‘Please, elderly people, if you must drink, don’t use your walker.’ Then there would be a shooting star and rainbow.”

- “One heavily made-uped woman in bright flowing clothes is stumbling across the room with her wine and flirting with disinterested men. Token assisted living floozy?”

- “ I notice two grandfather types talking at the bar wearing cardigans. Old men love cardigans. One of them is drinking from a 1930’s leather flask. I can’t hear them but I want to assume they’re talking about the war. Not the Gulf War.”

The 25 entries of my “Ask Jax Column” were some of my most enjoyable days. I hoped that I lived up to my pledge to answer ANY of your pressing inquiries with little to no thought, accuracy and sensitivity. Again, my improv make up served itself in these entries as I thrive on the interactiveness with my readers. On day 336, Claudia Mizrahi of Brooklyn, New York asked me, “Sexual harassment at work-is it a problem for the self-employed?” My reply: “If your definition of problem is awesome... then yes, sexual harassment is awesome for the self-employed. I've been sexually harassing myself for years. My skin has a rosy hue, I'm getting along better with my mother and have taken up para-sailing.”

I can’t deny that found a surplus of amusement conceptualizing , personifying and exploring the point of views and emotional depths of nonhuman entities……like...

Drugs - Day 6 – “The Serotonin Who Lost his Way” and Day 257 – “Talk to Your Drugs. About Kids”

Dogs - Day 19 – “Canine Conundrum?”

Seasons - Day 33 –“ Summer, Didn't We Almost Have it All?” and Day 132 – “Sorry to be Stern Winter. Tough Love” and Day 241 – “Spring. I'm Ready to Put Out”

The Alphabet - Day 55 – “Inanimate Object Whisperer”

A Cliché - Day 78 – “You Complete Me”

Emotions - Day 127 – “Emotional Party”

Years - Day 143 – “Steamy New Years”

A pen - Day 149 – “Memoirs of a pen named Pen”

Objects in a purse - Day 170 – “Live Together, Die Alone”

Condensation - Day 186 – “Snow : The Sexiest of the Precipitations”

Days of the week - Day 192 – “Tuesday. No Rose For You”

Mental Disorders - Day 268 – “Insane Movie Night”

The Devil - Day 326 – “Satan - Lactose Intolerant”

Breasts - Day 334 – “Boobs: People Have Them or People Love Them”

Body hair - Day 355 – “Hair-mony”

Let us revisit a blurb from an entry you seemed to resonate with, Day 246 – “STD Happy Hour”.

(Chlamydia and Gonorrhea are standing by a pinball machine during happy hour at a dive bar called The Itch. Blue Oyster Cult’s “Burnin' for You” is playing on the jukebox.)

Chlamydia – Gonorrhea, I think it’s great that we make the effort to meet up periodically to discuss business.

Gonorrhea – I am too Chlamydia. Remind me, why can’t Syphilis and Herpes make it?

Chlamydia – Herpes got a gig with Eliot Spitzer and Syphilis went to England to research his ancestry.

Gonorrhea - That’s right! His roots go back to Henry VIII.

Chlamydia – And Christopher Columbus…

Gonorrhea - Syphilis is old school. We’re lucky to know him.

Since the blogasphere medium offers a writer instant feedback, I looked to the topics you seemed to be consistently be gravitating towards…and the result: day 319, “So It Turns Out...We're All Pervs”. More specifically... boobs. Y’all love the ladies. Since I write “for the people”, on day 318 –“ I'll Show You My Boobs If....”, I offered to show you my bosom if you could explain to me why Wolf Blitzer looks like a wolf.

Your intrigue with all that is mammary was the catalyst for an interview with a pair of breasts, Mommy 1 and Mommy 2 on day 334, “Boobs: People Have Them or People Love Them". Here are a few things we learned:

Mommy 2: We have no say as to who Master brings home to fondle us. That's Brain's job. Sadly, Master is a raging drunk and an expert in bad decision making. We've been mauled by some real douches.

Mommy 1: Sports bras are strait jackets for breasts. I'd rather not revisit the fear, claustrophobia and suffocation that we experienced when Master ran a 5K.

Mommy 2: We're not naive. When Master gets knocked up...we'll end up making all the meals.

In addition to tit talk, you all clearly were enjoying “tapping” into topics under the fornication umbrella. On “Day 340 - The Answer is Sex, Alex”, it was evident that our writer/reader relationship was developing a(sexual) rhythm and it only seemed fair and balanced that I continue to give you what you want. The Sex.

In the spirit of going all jeopardy on your ass (that I can bounce a nickel off of ) I presented some inquiries where the answes were s-e-x. A sampling:

- “Instead of teaching Bristol the sport of wolf gunning, Sarah Palin should have been talking to her daughter about _______.”

- What was anti-gay Idaho Senator Larry Craig in search of when he entered a men's restroom at the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport?”

- “What's the number "6" in German?

Looking back at my entries, I feel confident that some are rich in content. And some are absolutely disposable. But even the “trashables” add value to this endeavor’s continuity because I see these misses as necessary components in order to arrive at the hits. On day 52 –“ My Bad”, I wrote," If we’re consistently hitting the mark every time... it seems that we’re blessed with a certain amount of luck and will eventually suffer some hard to process disappointments when life serves up some reality. Perfectionists scare me. The twist seems to be that expecting nothing less than perfectionism every time is, in itself, missing the mark.”

I don’t see my writing days coming to a total halt. However, I will be taking some time off because I need to know what I miss, why I miss it and focus on how exactly I can take these 365 days to the next level. This project has confirmed that it’s crucial to make very real goals and let the universe know.

- I want to make money from my writing
- I want to have a book
- I want a "Ask Jax" column. In "The Onion" would be ideal
- I want a literary agent
- I want a pony. Named Dazzle

On past blogs, I’ve already brainstormed possible book titles:

- "How to be Successful in Comedy When You and Your Parents Are Not Alcoholics"

- "Writers: Keeping Coffee Houses in Business Since the Invention of Words"

- "My Year of Tranformative Soul Searching. And I'm Still Fucked Up"

- "The Divinci Code"

- "Enablers are Just Special Givers"

- "Boobs! Boobs! Boobs!"

- "Oprah"

My blog has proven to be a reliable tool to access my “flow” by offering up some soul clearing, mental stimulation and emotional grounding. Without a doubt. It has made me stronger. Will I still have seemingly stagnant shitty days? Without a doubt. Besides, the doldrums tend to inspire great material.

I find beauty and solace in knowing the permanency of throwing our art…our authenticity… our soul into the universe (or blogasphere…same thing). No one can take that away from us. Bonus if we reach people in a positive way.

A very special friend once told me that my purpose in life was to be a healer. Through comedy. She said that I was an alchemist (who turns lead to gold.) This friend said that I " have the ability of taking the lead of every day trials and tribulations and turning it into the gold of the spirit.”

With these 365 entries, I found some peace while riding(writing) through my own angst. Maybe you did too. And if not. You got to read about boobs.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Day 364 - I'd Be a Narcissist If I Didn't Love Myself So Much

August 7th, 2010

I'd Be a Narcissist If I Didn't Love Myself So Much.

As I compose day 364 of my 365 day blog entry challenge, I'm coming to terms that just the very nature of partaking in this yearlong endeavor could imply some narcissism on my part. The following equation has developed. I write + You read + When I get positive feedback = I feel good.

But as I have glided and stumbled through this life thing, I have repeatedly been told, "You're too hard on yourself."

So I will gentle. Treat myself like a delicate flower.

Here goes. At my core, I don't see myself as egotistic, vain and selfish. I'll fess up that I possess a certain amount of healthy narcissism that includes a reasonable amount of self-worth, principles of the moral kind and being sensitive to the plight of others. Yay me.

Perhaps my candidness is inspiring you to look inward and you're asking me, "Jax, Am I narcissistic? Am I narcissist, Jax? Like the bad kind of narcissism. I'm scared. Confused. Need to be held."

Just your uncertainly implies that it's critical that you immediately evaluate yourself and take painful self-analysis of your motives, actions and beliefs.

Do you resonate with the following scenarios?

- You embrace the shame that lurks in your soul and take every measure to never process negative emotions in healthy ways. Your days are filled with reading Hitler's "Mein Kampf", going to your OJ Simpson fan club meeting and listening to white power singer songwriter Johnny Rebel's song "Nigger Hatin Me".

- You preach that entitlement is your birthright. This is often exemplified when sharing toys with small children. With malicious intent, you grab toys from toddlers and enjoy watching them cry because you're getting instant feedback. And that's awesome.

- Not a day goes by that you don't tell yourself, "Feeling emotions is so Oprah. I hate her. But Stedman's pretty cool. Because he has a mustache."

- You tell yourself that your magical thinking and irrational beliefs are making you creative. As a result, your "artistry" is exhibited by weaving pot holders. Painting pine cones. Using your blood to write the following on your ex's car. "I love you so much that I will kill you quickly.XOXO".

If you're saying to yourself, "Yes Jax. All of these symptoms above...I have them. Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!"

You need help. I will help you heal. After I stop admiring my reflection on my computer screen. I simply can't look away.

Friday, August 6, 2010

Day 363 - Motorcycle Guy: You Are So Cool, It Hurts.

August 6th, 2010

I made a new friend in my neighborhood several months ago and every time I'd cross paths with this guy... he was holding a helmet. Since I never investigated his protective head gear thoroughly, I just assumed it accompanied his preferred mode of transportation, a motorcycle. There was no doubt that this cool rider had mastered the art of badassery and I had thoughts that went like so: "Wow this guy really carves his own path. He wears, watches, drinks and listens to what he chooses, when he chooses and where he chooses. Clearly he is supplied with an unlimited source of awesomenimity. He is so cool, it hurts. What a badass.”

As I watched this indifferent heroic being exit the bar, I witnessed as he confidently sauntered over to his vehicle...which was, in fact (to my surprise and undelight), not a motorcycle. A bike it was. A bike I say. Immediately my image of faux motorcycle hero plummeted. Deep.

Don't fight me on this: Bikes are cool. Bikes with motors are cooler.

Sure, there are arguments that attempt to steer women away from falling for that stoic power symbol connected to a 2 wheeled motor vehicle. Our new man will most likely die soon since motorcycles have a higher fatality rate per unit of distance traveled when compared with automobiles. But don't let that overshadow the pluses. We get to brag to our friends, family and random strangers on the street that we have landed a free spirited power symbol. For a limited time only. Because of that death thing.

Oh statistics, why is your mission to eradicate enjoyment, amusement and pleasure?

Ladies, it's of considerable value to prioritize. Let's stay focused. Although it's likely that our motorcycle man's time on earth will be cut short due to a bloody collision on the highway, he's smokin' hot before he expires. We can't consume our thoughts with the negatives that tell us a motorcycle itself provides virtually no protection in a crash. Sure, our special guy will take the full brunt of impact, is at risk of being thrown off the bike and being hit by other vehicles on the road. Bury those thoughts and have the attitude of gratitude. Our guy (that is immune to joy and grief) is assured in his superiority and sends a message of nonconformity. Except, of course, conforming to other men who ride motorcycles.

And to the men out there who are asking themselves, "Should I get a death vehicle or be guaranteed (a brief deadly pre-collision) opportunity with a slew of women who will open their hearts (and legs) to me?"

Baby steps.

I suggest walking around for 1 day with a motorcycle helmet. No motorcycle necessary in this phase. See the reaction. Feel the reaction. Fornicate with the reaction.

You will have your answer.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Day 362 - Ask Jax - Part 25

This is the 25th and last (for now) installment of my "Ask Jax" series. I'm open to answering ANY of your pressing inquiries with little to no thought, accuracy and sensitivity. Remember there are no stupid questions. Just stupid people who ask questions.

When you have completed the 365 day challenge what will you attempt next and will it be a goal on which all your FB friends will be brought along? Andy Caploe, New York, New York

Jax's Answer - Valid inquiry Andy. I've been thinking that my follow up project will be less about "bringing" my Facebook friends and more about "going" to them. Literally. I plan to visit all 2075 of my Facebook friends. I will personally go to each and everyone's house to physically converse with them. I will bring along a professional camera crew (film students from NYU) to document the non virtual unions. I will only ask one question of each member of my network. "What do you like best about me?"

Boxers or briefs? - Debbie Ross Serrano,Woodland Hills, California

Jax's Answer - Underoos

Query: How do you stay so fresh and dewy looking? - Jessica Steward, Boston Massachusetts

Jax's Answer - I’m pretty healthy ¾ of the time. The other quarter I wreak havoc and destruction on my mind, body and spirit. Also, for no apparent reason, my cutlery set only consisting of sporks seems to keep me young.

Jackie now u done w 365thing where u go for vacation? Steven Hwang

Jax's Answer - Your bedroom

Do illiterate people get the full effect of alphabet soup? Pete Schwinge, Brooklyn, New York

Sadly, the illiterate don't experience the delightful mental stimulation that readers get when indulging in soupy goodness. What could be more frustrating than not stringing together linguistic gems with processed letter shaped noodles in a simmering liquid edible? Interest note, illiterate individuals...surprisingly good at Boggle

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Day 361 - Foot Loose Councilmen

August 4th, 2010

In Footloose, upbeat Chicago teen Ren McCormack (Kevin Bacon) moves from the big city to a small town and is informed, "You won't get any dancing here, it's illegal."

His response: "Jump back!"

Let's revisit the most classic tales of teen rebellion and repression that only comes to resolution through sweeping choreography and overacting.

As an adult, I've wondered what uptight Reverend Shaw Moore(John Lithgow) and the city council decided not to ban before they banished rock music and dancing.

Let's assume it went down like so:

(Location: City Council Meeting in a small church lead by Reverend Shaw Moore. I have conceptualized the names of other council members. Some inspired by media figures. Some are names I just picture in this meeting. In my mind's eye. Also, let's assume the meeting was conducted in Parliamentary Procedure. With powdered wigs.)

Reverend Shaw: The meeting will come to order. The secretary will read the minutes of the last meeting.

Secretary O'Reilly: I'll just cut to the chase. We basically just said that we hate black people.

Reverend Shaw: Are there any corrections to the minutes?

Councilmen Burnell - We also moved that we hate Jews, Mexicans and Persian kittens.

Reverend Shaw: If there are no further corrections, the minutes stand approved. Is there any new business?

Councilmen Newt: I move that it's time to ban something fun. I'm just not sure what. I'd like to open up the floor to discussion.

Reverend Shaw: All in favor of an open floored discussion about banning things that are fun...say "Aye"...those opposed say "Nay".

(All members passionately yell"Aye!")

Councilmen Jofestuss: I would move to make alcohol illegal...but I have some significant reservations. I love that booze gives me the excuse to feel confident, uninhibited and really horny.

Secretary O'Reilly: The effects are too positive...acting without reason and accountability should not be a right to be stripped of. I go back and forth on banning crystal meth...but I do see some valid reasons to keep it around. It's been brilliantly effective in desecrating the bad part of town.

Councilmen Newt: True, we've really seen progress. Now I vacillate if we should put an end to our key parties. But Reverend Shaw, your wife is so smokin' hot.

Reverend Shaw - That she is Newt. (They high five.) I welcome the times you have sinful relations with the Mrs...that's when I explore my gayness with the young naive boy at the Dairy Queen. I move that we ban guns!( All laugh)...Just kidding.

Councilmen Burnell - Nice one Rev. On a serious note, I need to address what is truly causing havoc in society...Boy Bands. (All pause then l nod in agreement.) Although I am entranced with the sweet guy. The brooding one. And the guy who oozes, "I am so street...", I just think it's time to put an end to them...because they get more attention than us.

Councilmen Jofestuss - Excellent point Councilmen Burnell. I move that we ban rock music and dancing. If we take that away from the Boy Bands...they'll just be undereducated guys working manual labor. Plus, taking away music and dancing is sure to piss off the teenagers. And I hate teenagers.

(All mumble under their breath that they are also haters of teens.)

Councilmen Burnell - I move that we ban rock music and dancing from our small ignorant town because there is nothing we like to do more than fuck with the teenagers.

Councilmen Jofestuss - I second the motion.

Reverend Shaw - The motion has been made by and seconded. All in favor of banning rock music and dancing from our small ignorant town because there is nothing we like to do more than fuck with the teenagers. ...please say "Aye"..and if opposed, say "Nay". (Overwhelming "Aye" response.) The motion has been passed and as of now, there is a ban on rock music and dancing from our small ignorant town because there is nothing we like to do more than fuck with the teenagers.

(Cheers from the councilman. Secretary O'Reilly and Councilman Newt accidentally start to dance in celebration. As a punishment, they are tar and feathered.)

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Day 360 - Being Nice. Overrated?

August 4th, 2010

Two days ago, on day 358, "Catered Camping. Good For the Soul"
(, I explained that I had a near perfect weekend in the wilderness with some of my favorite people. I urged you all to take a similar getaway and shared some essential ingredients that must be included in your adventure.

One necessity: Bill. I wrote, "We stayed at a campsite in Bear Mountain operated by Bill. If you ask him what his last name is, his response will be, 'Not important.' He looked like Santa Clause's alternative universe twin with more pot belly and no jeer. 73 year old sketchy Santa shared a little about himself. 'I got this far by being mean.'"

I didn't share with Bill that I pride myself in striving to be conscious, creative and compassionate. Basically, nice. I feel that I live these intentions most of the time...and when I don't, I've found that I've gotten better(not perfect yet) at constructive criticism.

But Bill seemed a bitter lonely geriatric kinda way. After all, he does own a campsite...the most respected outdoor career(closely followed by large animal manure inspector and the guy who draws chalk outlines on pavement.)

I had a dream last night(in black and white) and Bill sauntered over to me and handed me a pamphlet: "How to be Mean - Live the Life You Want..But Let's Face It...Are Never Gonna Get".

Some tips:

- Use your temper. You know who has chutzpah? You do.

- If people have inconvenienced you, let them know in a childish manner. Children are cute.

- Don't put yourself in another person's shoes.Toothbrushes should be shared..not shoes. Ew.

- Interrupt people when they're speaking. You're a words savant. With a BA in English. And a Masters Degree in Lowbrow Insults.

- Fighting fairly is boring. When arguing with another person, don't stick to the subject, be long winded and bring up unrelated issues that happened when Pluto was still a planet.

To my credit, I realized that I was reading garbage after being saved by that well intended peaceful old Native American man (with a tear in his eye) who is always dream crashing. He convinced me to continue to strive to live righteously. Then we went to pick up litter.

I wanted to return the pamphlet to Bill... but he had walked away. To kill a kitten.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Day 359 - Strong. Like El Guapo

August 3rd, 2010

I have to give myself an internal high five.

No. Not because today's horoscope praised my awesomeness.
Not because I'm having an exceptional hair day.
Not because the chef at my neighborhood cafe just gave me a free salad for being nice.

Although the above triumphs are worthy of the the gesture of the upraised arm/slap combo signifying elation and victory, I've metaphorically been observing myself as of late and have taken notice that I feel strong. Emotionally. I don't feel immune to adversity, but I am noticing that I'm coping better and recovering more hastily from strenuous conditions.

I credit this to a supportive and positive network of friends, family and cooks who provide me free ruffage. Perhaps even having only 6 days left in this 365 day blog entry challenge has contributed to my sense of self worth, perseverance capabilities and my ability to follow through. By focusing on the things that I can control, I am seeing progress in my life and no one, thing or zombie can crush my spirit and take that away for me.

Good news to those who feel like the world is pillaging against them with a pitchfork... strength is a mindset that can resurface from the muck of powerlessness. Effective coping skills are at our fingertips. So often we forget. To heal, some turn to religion. To a facet of spirituality. To Oprah. Where you find comfort is a personal choice. Look for it. Remind yourself that it is possible to derive joy from the world around you.

Perhaps the following movie quotes will assist you in taking the first step to an upward spiral.

- In "Animal House", John Belushi as John "Bluto" Blutarsky was a drunken degenerate in his seventh year of college and had a GPA of 0.0.

D-Day: War's over, man. Wormer dropped the big one.
Bluto: What? Over? Did you say "over"? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!
Otter: Germans?
Boon: Forget it, he's rolling.

Bluto goes on to become a United States Senator.

- Steve Martin (as Lucky Day) inspires a shift of consciousness in " ¡Three Amigos!"

"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."

Along with Nederlander and Dusty Bottoms, Lucky Day rode off into the into the sunset. As a hero.

- And no person has taught us the possibility of overcoming hardship more than Mel Gibson as William Wallace in "Braveheart".

"Aye, fight and you may die. Run, and you'll live... at least a while. And dying in your beds, many years from now, would you be willin' to trade ALL the days, from this day to that, for one chance, just one chance, to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they'll never take... OUR FREEDOM!

And Mel Gibson has the ability to spew hate about everyone. In one sentence.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Day 358 - Catered Camping. Good For the Soul

August 1st, 2010

According to the blog, "Stuff White People Like", American whities are universally smitten by expensive sandwiches, black music that black people don’t listen to anymore and vespas.

Also included in the list of Caucasian loves is camping.

Turns out to be true. Here's the deal. I've been feeling a little vulnerable the last few days. A relationship came to an end and I had one of 2 choices. Stay home and indulge in sullen aloofness or go camping with my friends. Yes, my white friends.

In one of my best decisions ever, I put myself on a bus to the wilderness to meet 8 people that I just adore. Bless their hearts....

It's been Jax tested. Should you feel in the doldrums, go camping immediately. However. You MUST include the following or I can't guarantee happiness:

1) Walkie Talkies
- We found it best to communicate with each other via walkie talkie. Very effective when the group was divided into 2 cars, at different places on our 10 mile hike through Minnewaska State Park and when we really wanted to drive a point home with the person next to us. Plus saying, "Roger", "Over" and referring to bikes as "boagies" is cool.

2) Assign nicknames to camp mates.
- We did:
Jax -Venus
Claudia - Desert Fox
Katy - Maverick
John - Poo Bear
Paul - Scooter
Mollie - Digger
Lauren - Odyssey
Pete - The Artist Formally Known as Jack Rabbit Formally Known as Bald Eagle

3) Bill
- We stayed at a campsite in Bear Mountain operated by Bill. If you ask him what his last name is, his response will be, "Not important." He looked like Santa Clause's alternative universe twin with more pot belly and no jeer. 73 year old sketchy Santa shared a little about himself. "I got this far by being mean."

4) Think outside the box campfire dialogue and shenanigans
- The Artist Formally Known as Jack Rabbit Formally Known as Bald Eagle snuck out of the darkness wearing a hockey mask and holding a bloody ax. The only screamer was Desert Fox who later let out a high pitched cry after finding a spider in her tent. Interesting note, fear is unusual for this Jewish carnivorous breed.
- Tell your friends what product they would be. I was assigned Mrs. Butterworth which still perplexes me(even though...I do tan quite well. And my blood is made of syrup.)

5) Pick up $200 worth of BBQ to be eaten at campsite.

6) Props
- Decorate the site with a colorful banner of flags, bring a blow up monkey and a polka dot clown/ dunce hat to be worn by people who do stupid things. I wore it a lot. At one point, I wondered if Odyssey would get the hat if she got clumsy and fell in the bonfire. Would she have to wear it as she was being put in an ambulance? At her funeral? We came to the conclusion that if she "didn't make it"....the hat would sit upon her urn.

7) Not your grandma's alcoholic beverages
- Have you ever had a beer called Mountain Beer? You should because it claims to be "A very cool brew."
- From the cooler, Desert Fox presented a watermelon(wrapped in tin foil and easily mistaken for a severed head) that had been marinating in vodka and Malibu rum. Well received. VERY well received.

8) Sleep in an Eddie Bauer tent with built in sky dome.
- I saw the sky. And the sky saw me.

9) Chihuahua in an antebellum dress.
- The elderly couple in the RV next to our site came over to ask if we would leave our bottles for them to recycle. We suspected their true intention for the visit was to bring along their freakishly mellow chihuahua wearing a Scarlet O'Hara dress, pearl drop earrings and sunglasses. All beautifully accompanied with red painted nails.

10) On the way home, stop in City Island for seafood on an outside deck overlooking the water.
- Debbie the hostess gave us "the alleged" best table. Overlooking the parking lot.

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Day 357 - Ask Jax - Part 24

July 31st, 2010

This is the 24th installment of my "Ask Jax" series. I'm open to answering ANY of your pressing inquiries with little to no thought, accuracy and sensitivity. Remember there are no stupid questions. Just stupid people who ask questions.

Why? - Emily Fitch, Charlotte, North Carolina

Jax's Answer - You did the right thing by coming to me with matters related to esotericism. I've been told (by myself) that I have a firm grasp on what might inspire reasons. Causes if you will. Let's look at history's most notable "Why?" I shall dissect the purpose.

In 1994, Olympic skater, Nancy Kerrigan, was captured on camera after being clubbed in the knee by Shane Stant at the U.S. Figure Skating Championships, an attack planned by rival, Tonya Harding's ex-husband Jeff Gillooly and friend Shawn Eckardt. Post attack footage of Kerrigan wailing, "Why, why, why" swept the airways. So...soon after, we found out just WHY. As it turns out, Nancy Kerrigan was whiny and entitled all along. Plus, during a Disney parade, she called Mickey Mouse "corny." Needless to say, her snobbery resulted with a clubbing orchestrated by Donald and Goofy.

If you tell a joke in the forest, but nobody laughs, was it a joke? - Claudia Mizrahi, Brooklyn, New York

Jax's Answer - First off, audiences of forest animals like bears, raccoons and moose are known as "tough crowds" in comedy circles. However, if you're a comedian and your career has taken you to gigs in the woods...then it's safe to assume your jokes won't land anywhere.

What's with Noah and the keeping of the mosquito's? - Ken Miller, Colorado Springs, Colorado

Jax's Answer - Originally, Noah had no intentions of bringing the pesky mosquitoes along. However, the night before he set sail, he was getting high on the stern with the orangutans and developed a deep interest in eventually breeding a mosquito with a caribou...and breed a Caribou-quito. Also, little known fact, Noah, total douche.

Friday, July 30, 2010

Day 356 - Accountable, Not Accountable or Count von Count

July 30th, 2010

On day 158 of my 365 day blog challenge, I wrote an entry called “Jew, Not-a-Jew or Canadian?” I gave you scenarios and asked you which of these three categories the examples fell under.( On day 166, I brought to you another list to test your knowledge of 3 interchangeable people: Bill O’Reilly, Kanye West and Mother Teresa. ( Determining if you were celebrating Passover, Easter or The Festival of Steve Guttenberg was where we journeyed on Day 235( And just because I was curious, on Day 243, I needed to know if you had the Fear of Failure, Abandonment or Zombies? ( On day 253, I had you determine if you were suffering from penis panic, vagina fervor or Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo( on day 282, I proposed that you ask your soul if it comes from a place of Schadenfreude, Mudita or Indifference ( and on day 332, you admitted that you would most likely die from a heatwave, old age or douchebaggery(

Today, I'd like us to take responsibility for our words and actions. Self constructive criticism is no easy task...but my blog is a safe place. I've seen undesirable behavior in myself, people close to me and random strangers on the street. Let's own up to our behavior and admit if we glide(or pillage) through life as a person who is accountable, not accountable or Count von Count( often known simply as the The Count, vampire-like Muppet on "Sesame Street".)

- Your tendency not to own your actions and blame others for your own shortcomings has resulted with you being typed cast as "The Victim" in all the community theater plays.

- You're made of felt.

- You're Jerry Orbach (in "Dirty Dancing") apologizing to Johnny Castle when you realize you wrongly assumed Johnny was the one who got Penny pregnant. You fess up and admit, “When I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong.”

- In high school, you were voted "Most likely to be responsible, answerable and liable."

- Your ex-ray shows that you have a human arm up your torso and a hand operating your mouth.

- You've been known to say, "I prefer to follow the moral codes of Hitler, Stalin and Hannibal Lecter."

- At your office, you ate your co worker's leftover Ziti al Forno from the Olive Garden. When asked if you were the perpetrator, you casually respond, "Oh yeah..that was me."

- You have a compulsive love of counting and will count anything and everything, regardless of size, amount or how much annoyance you cause others around you.

- Your profile says, I pride my self in my culinary skills, athletic abilities and making others feel like they're the ones that are crazy, lost, upset, confused and a litany of other emotions, when in actuality I'm the one who feels these emotions. Also, I love to para-sail!

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Day 355 - Hair-mony

July 29th, 2010

Location: Body hairs from the hairiest woman in the world are congregating at the shower drain.

(Eyebrow Hair and Nose Hair are tweezed and slide to the shower drain where Pubic Hair is waiting)

Pubic Hair - Hello Nose Hair. And Eyebrow Hair... haven't seen you since our unfortunate visit to the Ukrainian waxer.

Eyebrow Hair - That was traumatic! Afterward, I laid low with Root and Follicle before I came back to Body.

Pubic Hair - That's why I went to Brazil for 4-6 weeks.

Nose Hair - So sorry guys. Sounds tough. (pause) So Pubic Hair...why did you call a meeting of the hairs?

Pubic Hair - I met up with Ear Hair on some scissors the other day and he told me that he heard the "woman" is getting laser surgery.

(Eyebrow Hair and Nose Hair gasp)

Pubic Hair - Evidently she is not impressed with our recyclable powers and being confused for a man. Or an Ape. Here comes Toe Hair and Chest Hair. They already know what might go down. Or off..

(Toe Hair and Chest Hair join the hairs at the drain)

Toe Hair - Hairs! I will not stand for our permanent removal. It's not my fault she didn't win the genetic lottery.

Chest Hair - She needs us. We provide a layer of warmth that no winter coat can compete with! No coat!

Pubic Hair - Settle down hairs. It's important that we remain united. If not...we'll end up like them(points to Black Chin Hair and Gray Hair sliding to the group. Arguing)

Black Chin Hair - You're racist Gray Hair!

Gray Hair - I was born on Jim Crow's head. You can't teach an old hair new tricks.

(Black Chin Hair leans in to attack Gray Hair. He's held back by the Hairs)

Pubic Hair - Enough....we need to stick together.. .the "woman" has a 2pm appointment at TLC Laser Center.

(Black Chin Hair and Gray Hair become speechless and express concern)

Toe Hair - Is she planning on doing it from head to me?

Pubic Hair - Toe Hair, here's the information I have. The plan is to remove everything from the brow down. Head Hair is safe.

Nose Hair - Head Hair!? She's such a Bitch!

Chest Hair - Totally. .the "woman" unjustifiably regards Head Hair as the Ivy League of hairs.

(Leg Hair comes in laughing...not knowing of impending doom)

Leg Hair - So she shaved me with a cheap single blade Gillette plastic razor. I disappear for five minutes. What's the point? Seriously.

Gray Hair - Well don't get used to your hasty comebacks...we're being eliminated. Permanently.

Leg Hair - Laser? I thought Ear Hair was fucking with me.( starts to cry.)

Pubic Hair - Hairs, I am a Pubic Hair. Strong and wise. I have an escape plan. I had all of us congregate here at the drain because we're relocating to a place where we ALL are revered and can have a place to call our home. Forever.

Chest Hair - But where Pubic Hair? Where?

Pubic Hair - An ungroomed standard poodle.

Eyebrow Hair - Brilliant! But how do we make the pilgrimage to the dog?

Pubic Hair - This is how(he points to Ear Hair flying towards them while riding Handlebar Moustache Hair)

Nose Hair - Brilliant!

Pubic Hair - Handlebar Moustache Hair will now fly us away to where hairs can live together. In Hair-mony.

(While Twisted Sister's "We're Not Gonna Take It" plays in the background, all the hairs hop on Handlebar Moustache Hair and fly away to an upscale purebred doggie daycare.)

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Day 354 - Sexbert

July 28th, 2010

THEY say that there are four key ingredients in becoming a competent sex therapist. You must:

- Become a therapist
- Specialize in sex therapy
- Get plenty of supervised training
- Get licensed in your field

I generally don't like refuting the wisdom of THEY, but I feel that there is really only one practical component to being a sexologist: You have had sex.

The majority of sex therapists that I have experienced on that television tube and magazine literature in the racks in the grocery store aisle would fall into the latter on the "Hot or Not" website.

I'm not saying that all sex therapists are virgins, I just don't want to picture them doing it. Feisty cultural icon in the 1980s, Dr Ruth Westheimer, brought us in the new age of franker, freer talk about sex on radio and television. The 4-foot-something spunky German claims that she "first had sexual intercourse on a starry night, in a haystack—without contraception." Didn't see that coming. Then there's the unfortunate fornicating mental image of "Sexpert", Jamie Bufalino, who writes the "Get Naked Column" in "Time Out New York". There's little to disprove that he is the lovechild of the 40 year old virgin and the guys I went to Hebrew school with.

Let's keep this simple y'all...The ONLY way to guarantee that your sex therapist has had sex is if they have a child, venereal disease or sex tape(think Pamela Anderson, Tommy Lee, Bret Michaels, Eric Dane, Rebecca Gayheart, Dustin Diamond, Fred Durst, John Edwards, Amy Fisher, Tonya Harding, Paris Hilton, Kim Kardashian, Rob Lowe and my ex boyfriend.)

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Day 353 - Little Bunny Fee Fee

July 27th, 2010

Check it:

Consumer Reports estimates that every year U.S. consumers pay at least $216 billion in financial fees. Let's break it down. Annually, each of us is paying $750 in miscellaneous fees.

After asking my readers to share some bizarre fees on goods and services, it turns out that we're not only being slapped in the face with cell phone bills, credit cards, internet service providers and airlines. Here's what I've learned:

- I still find it insane when I have to pay to use a public restrooms while abroad! Additionally, while in Turkey, I got charged for the use of condiments on our table at the resort I was staying at...salt and pepper I'm talkin! - Amy Kerner

- An Irish airline charges for the bathroom. - Nicole Abramovici

- McDonald's has their own tax called take-out tax. Look at your receipt. It ain't no couple pennies nothing neither. Every time you order to go or even to eat in. - Alexander V Moukarbel

I know. You're saying, "But Jax, all this service fee stuff is still so confusing to me. Please explain it to me. Gently."

Alright. Do you remember Little Bunny Foo Foo, a children's poem involving a rabbit harassing a population of field mice? Let's review:

Little bunny Foo Foo
Hopping through the forest
Scooping up the field mice
And bopping them on the head
Down came the Good Fairy, and she said
"Little bunny Foo Foo
I don't want to see you
Scooping up the field mice
And bopping them on the head."

It turns out that L'il Bunny Foo Foo's frowned upon behavior has spiraled even further and he's changed his name to Little Bunny Fee Fee. The once rather innocent poem now has some disturbing subtext.

Little bunny Fee Fee
Hopping through the forest
Scooping up the field mice
And bopping them on the head(and telling the mice that if they fly internationally on American, British Airways, Continental, Delta, United, US Airways and Virgin Atlantic, they'll be paying $60 to check a second bag.)
Down came the Good Fairy, and she said
"Little bunny Fee Fee
I don't want to see you( charging $36.95 should the mice choose to e- file their taxes on TurboTax. and...)
Scooping up the field mice
And bopping them on the head( by advertising free texts if they're not on an unlimited plan. When in reality, mice end up paying $0.15 every time they send or receive a text.)

Heads up: I'll be imposing a $15 charge for reading my blog. $45 should you reread it.