July 26th, 2010
I want to communicate communication today. Quite simply - There can't be a relationship with someone without communicating with them.
I'm not just talking a romantic union. I'm going broad. Readers, it's time to negotiate the oceans between ourselves and our special someones, friendships, coworkers, drug dealers and basically everyone who crosses our path. With a mouth.
From what my extensive(Google) research tells me, by expressing our thoughts, values, priorities, ideas, feelings, attitudes and beliefs insensitively, we set the stage for others to experience us negatively. According to interweb wisdom on effective communication, it is not recommended to be:
•Indirect
•Passive
•Antagonistic
•Cryptic
•Unresponsive
•Dishonest
But how do we fix the remedies of negative verbal two way traffic? The virtual world gave me some suggestions, but I wasn't feeling it. So I've come up with three groups that I feel could teach us how to communicate more congenially, openly and clearly.
GROUP 1 - DOGS
To communicate harmoniously, I recommend that people also partake in a two way ass sniff. You know what that says? "I'm assertive. Direct. Anus friendly."
GROUP 2 - PEOPLE WITH HEADSETS
People in careers that involve wearing a headset seem to be on the right track. Ask the the air traffic guys, the gap employees preventing many a khaki disaster with this microphoned boy band headband and bouncers at high end night clubs who communicate in an accountable manner( by agreeing not to let ugly people in.) Once a bouncer asked another bouncer, via headset, if he should let in a girl wearing a low cut tank . He was fired for tying up the frequency.
GROUP 3 - DOGS WITH HEADSETS
The Australian man who invented the labradoodle, Wally Conran, is now breeding dogs with bouncers. This population is considered the "Buddhas" of Communicators. Bonus that they're hypoallergenic.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Day 351 - Ask Jax - Part 23
July 25th, 2010
This is the 23rd installment of my "Ask Jax" series. I'm open to answering ANY of your pressing inquiries with little to no thought, accuracy and sensitivity. I can't guarantee instant publication, but I will hold onto all questions and attempt to answer them at some point during my 365 day blog entry challenge. Remember there are no stupid questions. Just stupid people who ask questions.
If your brother is a practicing kabbalist and you're at odds...is it OK to convert to Islam? - Stephen "The Pious" Villaine, Brooklyn, New York
Jax's Answer: Cat Stevens asked me the same question once. At first I was skeptical to advise him to convert to Islam at the height of his fame, adopt a Muslim name and auction away all his guitars... but then I turned soft when he sang "Father & Son" around the friendship circle at Jewish camp. That song gets me. In the heart area.
Why is vacuuming such a pain in the ass? - Anonymous, Atlanta, Georgia
Jax's Answer: Wise choice to remain anonymous in regards to such a censured topic. As for me, I've dropped the ball on vacuuming because it triggers quite a bit of angst:
- My emotions have convinced me that vacuuming makes my place dirtier.
- My hair and carpet have developed a union and are conspiring against me. Even the most industrial vacuum cleaner shoots me the finger should I attempt to utilize its suction.
- End result: Outsource the chore. Or neglect it. Good news, my wig making career(that specializes in blonde hair/dust bunnies mullets) is thriving.
Does a Brazilian hurt? (I am seriously thinking about it. A couple of girlfriends swear by it) - Anonomous, Guilford, Connecticut
Jax's Answer: You did the right thing coming to me because multiple people have asked me, "Are you Brazilian?" My answer: "Half. From the waste down."
So here's the deal/ Applying scorching hot wax to our delicate lady parts to tear our hair follicles out by the root is not the most pleasant of sensory experiences. However, you know the payoff is high for you(and your special man.) So please, if you will, repeat my mantra, "It hurts...that means it's working."
I do feel obliged to give you the 'heads up" that some emotional challenges will arise from your delicately intimate relationship with the waxer of your choice. I have attached a past entry, Day 12 - "Wax-achment" to prepare you for the new feelings you will be experiencing with your hair removal specialist.
Day 12 - "Wax-achment"
Yesterday I was getting a manicure at the same place that I had a bikini wax a few days earlier. To the surprise of my fragile heart, my waxer totally ignored me. It was shocking after the intimacy we shared.
And it stung. Badly.
I am not a needy person, but a little common courtesy would be nice after combining forces and sharing something so affectionately confidential. Yet, I’m writing about it. Irony works in mysterious ways. Ms. Waxer and I shared an experience very similar to another activity that involves partaking in an act so intimate and involves endurance, strength, shared sensory experiences and interdependence. No, not doubles figure skating. I speak of THE SEX.
The similarity between like features of THE WAX and THE DOING IT, on which a comparison may be based is oh so evident to me now. Let’s take a look. If what I have written so far is “too edgy” for you I suggest that you stop reading. Now.
• Like choosing a love making partner, we have a type. Plain and simple. I personally prefer the waxing stylings of the Russians to that of the Asians. One of them has hair and the other doesn’t. Know your customer. It’s why I go to a woman gynecologist.
• Sex and waxing both can get messy, hurt more the first time, vary in speed and inspire a variety of positions.
• We have choices. With Waxing: regular, sensitive and the so called "pain free". With Sex: The insanely numerous variety of condoms has become a marketing machine.
• Both involve an enormous amount of trust. Once we experience their style, perhaps we could be willing to explore more heightened and exploratory waxing and sexing options.
• It is to our benefit to have honest conversations before both of these games begin. What do we like and dislike? If we are prone to ingrown hairs..share that piece of information as they are the equivalent to Chlamydia.
• At first, seeing your bed mate and the hair removal specialist every 4-6 weeks can create a mystique.
• The hard truth: Some people just perform better and have mad skillz with the 2 tasks that we discuss.
• Perhaps your consummation is under the umbrella of prostitution. Well, my Russian has a “pimp” that I schedule with. I pay at the end. Enough said.
• Although I am not seeing other waxers, I am certain that she is seeing other people. I tuck that away. ..I don’t want or need to hear the details of such escapades. My waxer has a gift that should be shared. Or something like that. Ugh.
• At the end of both of these "sessions"... our skin has a glow.
• If the waxee or lover wants to prove their commitment, they bring the family on board . In the case of a potential romantic relationship, perhaps a nonthreatening dinner. On our other topic, just believe that a family that waxes together…stays together.
So yesterday when I was blown off by Ms. Formerly Known as Soviet Union, it hit a nerve. But today, my self esteem is back in check. Whatevs. Other waxers want me.
This is the 23rd installment of my "Ask Jax" series. I'm open to answering ANY of your pressing inquiries with little to no thought, accuracy and sensitivity. I can't guarantee instant publication, but I will hold onto all questions and attempt to answer them at some point during my 365 day blog entry challenge. Remember there are no stupid questions. Just stupid people who ask questions.
If your brother is a practicing kabbalist and you're at odds...is it OK to convert to Islam? - Stephen "The Pious" Villaine, Brooklyn, New York
Jax's Answer: Cat Stevens asked me the same question once. At first I was skeptical to advise him to convert to Islam at the height of his fame, adopt a Muslim name and auction away all his guitars... but then I turned soft when he sang "Father & Son" around the friendship circle at Jewish camp. That song gets me. In the heart area.
Why is vacuuming such a pain in the ass? - Anonymous, Atlanta, Georgia
Jax's Answer: Wise choice to remain anonymous in regards to such a censured topic. As for me, I've dropped the ball on vacuuming because it triggers quite a bit of angst:
- My emotions have convinced me that vacuuming makes my place dirtier.
- My hair and carpet have developed a union and are conspiring against me. Even the most industrial vacuum cleaner shoots me the finger should I attempt to utilize its suction.
- End result: Outsource the chore. Or neglect it. Good news, my wig making career(that specializes in blonde hair/dust bunnies mullets) is thriving.
Does a Brazilian hurt? (I am seriously thinking about it. A couple of girlfriends swear by it) - Anonomous, Guilford, Connecticut
Jax's Answer: You did the right thing coming to me because multiple people have asked me, "Are you Brazilian?" My answer: "Half. From the waste down."
So here's the deal/ Applying scorching hot wax to our delicate lady parts to tear our hair follicles out by the root is not the most pleasant of sensory experiences. However, you know the payoff is high for you(and your special man.) So please, if you will, repeat my mantra, "It hurts...that means it's working."
I do feel obliged to give you the 'heads up" that some emotional challenges will arise from your delicately intimate relationship with the waxer of your choice. I have attached a past entry, Day 12 - "Wax-achment" to prepare you for the new feelings you will be experiencing with your hair removal specialist.
Day 12 - "Wax-achment"
Yesterday I was getting a manicure at the same place that I had a bikini wax a few days earlier. To the surprise of my fragile heart, my waxer totally ignored me. It was shocking after the intimacy we shared.
And it stung. Badly.
I am not a needy person, but a little common courtesy would be nice after combining forces and sharing something so affectionately confidential. Yet, I’m writing about it. Irony works in mysterious ways. Ms. Waxer and I shared an experience very similar to another activity that involves partaking in an act so intimate and involves endurance, strength, shared sensory experiences and interdependence. No, not doubles figure skating. I speak of THE SEX.
The similarity between like features of THE WAX and THE DOING IT, on which a comparison may be based is oh so evident to me now. Let’s take a look. If what I have written so far is “too edgy” for you I suggest that you stop reading. Now.
• Like choosing a love making partner, we have a type. Plain and simple. I personally prefer the waxing stylings of the Russians to that of the Asians. One of them has hair and the other doesn’t. Know your customer. It’s why I go to a woman gynecologist.
• Sex and waxing both can get messy, hurt more the first time, vary in speed and inspire a variety of positions.
• We have choices. With Waxing: regular, sensitive and the so called "pain free". With Sex: The insanely numerous variety of condoms has become a marketing machine.
• Both involve an enormous amount of trust. Once we experience their style, perhaps we could be willing to explore more heightened and exploratory waxing and sexing options.
• It is to our benefit to have honest conversations before both of these games begin. What do we like and dislike? If we are prone to ingrown hairs..share that piece of information as they are the equivalent to Chlamydia.
• At first, seeing your bed mate and the hair removal specialist every 4-6 weeks can create a mystique.
• The hard truth: Some people just perform better and have mad skillz with the 2 tasks that we discuss.
• Perhaps your consummation is under the umbrella of prostitution. Well, my Russian has a “pimp” that I schedule with. I pay at the end. Enough said.
• Although I am not seeing other waxers, I am certain that she is seeing other people. I tuck that away. ..I don’t want or need to hear the details of such escapades. My waxer has a gift that should be shared. Or something like that. Ugh.
• At the end of both of these "sessions"... our skin has a glow.
• If the waxee or lover wants to prove their commitment, they bring the family on board . In the case of a potential romantic relationship, perhaps a nonthreatening dinner. On our other topic, just believe that a family that waxes together…stays together.
So yesterday when I was blown off by Ms. Formerly Known as Soviet Union, it hit a nerve. But today, my self esteem is back in check. Whatevs. Other waxers want me.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Day 350 - Laziness is Really Just Special Me Time
July 24th, 2010
"Only in laziness can one achieve a state of contemplation which is a balancing of values, a weighing of oneself against the world, and the world against itself." - Jon Steinbeck
The Nobel Prize recipient and author of "The Grapes of Wrath" and "Of Mice and Men" wasn't alone when voicing the merits of being lazy.
Comedian Mitch Hedberg said, “Last week I helped my friend stay put. It's a lot easier than helping someone move. I just went over to his house and made sure that he did not start to load his shit into a truck” , the band, The Offspring sang "Why Don't You Get a Job?" and Forrest Gump told us,"Lazy is as lazy does"(or something along those lines.)
Novels have even been written on the disinclination to activity and exertion( interesting that novelists would be experts on laziness...):
- "In Praise of Slowness : Challenging the Cult of Speed."
- "The Right to Be Lazy".
- "Hello Laziness! - Why Hard Work Doesn't Pay"
- "Bonjour Laziness! - How to Work as Little as Possible (Just Like the French)"
- "In Praise of Idleness"
- "Slowly, Slowly, Slowly, Said the Sloth."
I'm fleshing out some of my own book titles should I peruse the Barnes and Noble Lazy section(if I were lazy, I'd peruse online from my bed...or just not attend to the strenuous task at all should it interfere with my nap time from noon to 5:00PM):
Some of my titles:
- "Laziness is Really Just Special Me Time"
- "No Time to Save the World when You have High Thread Count Bedding"
- "Even Smoking Pot is a Chore"
I generally don't seek advice from Christian moral tradition...but they do preach some heavy shit on the topic of sloth, one of the seven deadly sins. According to this monotheistic religion based on the life and teachings of Jesus Harold Christ, being lazy is a capital sin because it destroys the charity in a man's heart and thus may lead to eternal death.
I can see the destroy the charitable heart part..but eternal death...seems improbable. Why? Read My novel, "When You're Too Lazy to Die".
"Only in laziness can one achieve a state of contemplation which is a balancing of values, a weighing of oneself against the world, and the world against itself." - Jon Steinbeck
The Nobel Prize recipient and author of "The Grapes of Wrath" and "Of Mice and Men" wasn't alone when voicing the merits of being lazy.
Comedian Mitch Hedberg said, “Last week I helped my friend stay put. It's a lot easier than helping someone move. I just went over to his house and made sure that he did not start to load his shit into a truck” , the band, The Offspring sang "Why Don't You Get a Job?" and Forrest Gump told us,"Lazy is as lazy does"(or something along those lines.)
Novels have even been written on the disinclination to activity and exertion( interesting that novelists would be experts on laziness...):
- "In Praise of Slowness : Challenging the Cult of Speed."
- "The Right to Be Lazy".
- "Hello Laziness! - Why Hard Work Doesn't Pay"
- "Bonjour Laziness! - How to Work as Little as Possible (Just Like the French)"
- "In Praise of Idleness"
- "Slowly, Slowly, Slowly, Said the Sloth."
I'm fleshing out some of my own book titles should I peruse the Barnes and Noble Lazy section(if I were lazy, I'd peruse online from my bed...or just not attend to the strenuous task at all should it interfere with my nap time from noon to 5:00PM):
Some of my titles:
- "Laziness is Really Just Special Me Time"
- "No Time to Save the World when You have High Thread Count Bedding"
- "Even Smoking Pot is a Chore"
I generally don't seek advice from Christian moral tradition...but they do preach some heavy shit on the topic of sloth, one of the seven deadly sins. According to this monotheistic religion based on the life and teachings of Jesus Harold Christ, being lazy is a capital sin because it destroys the charity in a man's heart and thus may lead to eternal death.
I can see the destroy the charitable heart part..but eternal death...seems improbable. Why? Read My novel, "When You're Too Lazy to Die".
Friday, July 23, 2010
Day 349 - Wet T-shirt. A-Z
July 23rd, 2010
Bad news: Got caught in the rain. Good news: Won the wet t-shirt contest.
Rain part: True. Wet tee champion: Not so much.
I was walking around Greenwich Village with a student who had taken my improv class last year...reminiscing...laughing...whatnotting. Then...the rains came.
Evidently, water pouring onto a woman's chest that results with t-shirts turning translucent and clinging to breasts is a crowd pleaser. Even if the locale is walking down 6th avenue.
Sadly... at 10:30, there was no venue within my sight where I could just run in and scream, "Sign me up. My t-shirt is wet...and I'm feeling competitive!" I did, however, run into the Mail Box Express on the corner to see if they were holding a competition. No. But a delightful sale on packaging tape.
My imagination has been queued to script how it would go down shall I enter a wet t-shirt contest. Since I was with an improv friend, I shall tell the tale in a game that I do in my class: A to Z. The first word of each sentence will begin with a letter from the alphabet starting with A and ending with Z.
About a month a go, I was hanging out in Cancún, Daytona Beach or a Frat boy's fantasy(hard to remember because I was drunk off Jello Shots.)
Biff, a douche from a state school, convinced me to enter a wet t-shirt contest because I had what it takes: Boobs and a t-shirt.
Carlos'n Charlie's was the name of the bar where I was to compete.
Dynamic Duo are the name of my breasts.
Every time I consider dabbling in bad decision making, I find it best to consult with the ladies on my chest.
Finally, they gave me the green light when I told them the winner gets to be in a 1-900 commercial.
Gina McSyphilis was the reigning champion.
Her low self esteem was her secret weapon.
I also heard she banged some of the judges
Jermaine Jackson
Kid Rock
Little Richard
Mind you, I just named a few.
Needless to say, I had to stay focused, committed and energized to beat my respectable competition.
Oh what a proud family I would have if I brought home the coveted wet t-shirt prizes: Trophy, tahara and shame.
Police were on the premise...to cheer us on.
"Quality Girl" by original member of the rock band Kiss, Ace Frehley, was the song to kick off the competition.
Recent laws dictate that contestants may no longer reveal full breastage.
Sad...right?
The reigning champion, Gina, made a critical mistake.
Unfortunately for her, she decided to fondle her lady parts while proudly screaming, "I have a PhD in....
Venereal Diseases!"
Well...she was booed off the stage and it was wrong for me to assume that I had a shoe in to become the champion.
Xing Lee, the naughty Asian school girl contestant, ended up winning because she wooed the audience, law enforcement officials and even me when she added a vocal technique while displaying simulated acts of lesbianism(with herself.)
Yodeling
Zoology was her major and she had developed a complex high pitched falsetto to communicate with farm animals and frat brothers from across the land.
Bad news: Got caught in the rain. Good news: Won the wet t-shirt contest.
Rain part: True. Wet tee champion: Not so much.
I was walking around Greenwich Village with a student who had taken my improv class last year...reminiscing...laughing...whatnotting. Then...the rains came.
Evidently, water pouring onto a woman's chest that results with t-shirts turning translucent and clinging to breasts is a crowd pleaser. Even if the locale is walking down 6th avenue.
Sadly... at 10:30, there was no venue within my sight where I could just run in and scream, "Sign me up. My t-shirt is wet...and I'm feeling competitive!" I did, however, run into the Mail Box Express on the corner to see if they were holding a competition. No. But a delightful sale on packaging tape.
My imagination has been queued to script how it would go down shall I enter a wet t-shirt contest. Since I was with an improv friend, I shall tell the tale in a game that I do in my class: A to Z. The first word of each sentence will begin with a letter from the alphabet starting with A and ending with Z.
About a month a go, I was hanging out in Cancún, Daytona Beach or a Frat boy's fantasy(hard to remember because I was drunk off Jello Shots.)
Biff, a douche from a state school, convinced me to enter a wet t-shirt contest because I had what it takes: Boobs and a t-shirt.
Carlos'n Charlie's was the name of the bar where I was to compete.
Dynamic Duo are the name of my breasts.
Every time I consider dabbling in bad decision making, I find it best to consult with the ladies on my chest.
Finally, they gave me the green light when I told them the winner gets to be in a 1-900 commercial.
Gina McSyphilis was the reigning champion.
Her low self esteem was her secret weapon.
I also heard she banged some of the judges
Jermaine Jackson
Kid Rock
Little Richard
Mind you, I just named a few.
Needless to say, I had to stay focused, committed and energized to beat my respectable competition.
Oh what a proud family I would have if I brought home the coveted wet t-shirt prizes: Trophy, tahara and shame.
Police were on the premise...to cheer us on.
"Quality Girl" by original member of the rock band Kiss, Ace Frehley, was the song to kick off the competition.
Recent laws dictate that contestants may no longer reveal full breastage.
Sad...right?
The reigning champion, Gina, made a critical mistake.
Unfortunately for her, she decided to fondle her lady parts while proudly screaming, "I have a PhD in....
Venereal Diseases!"
Well...she was booed off the stage and it was wrong for me to assume that I had a shoe in to become the champion.
Xing Lee, the naughty Asian school girl contestant, ended up winning because she wooed the audience, law enforcement officials and even me when she added a vocal technique while displaying simulated acts of lesbianism(with herself.)
Yodeling
Zoology was her major and she had developed a complex high pitched falsetto to communicate with farm animals and frat brothers from across the land.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Day 348 - Greasy Trailer Park Lesbian Threesome Porn Ultimatum
July 22nd, 2010
I have a dad, a brother, guy friends, past boyfriends and a current boyfriend. So I am pretty educated as to what guys adore:
- Beer
- Grills
- Lazy boys(with ass groove)
- Greasy trailer park lesbian threesome porn
- Ultimatums
Oh I know...I am aware that you're saying, "But Jax!," Say it isn't so. Men are in the Facebook group "Fans of Ultimatums"...really?
According to the MOST reliable information source (after Urban Dictionary and my waxer),"Cosmopolitan", men love when women(often in an act of desperation) demand fulfillment in a specified period of time.
Cosmo, You're incorrigible. Tell me how the XY chromosome types are, ya know, totally cool with a good 'ol fashioned ultimatum?
Cosmo :"It's a relationship myth that giving your guy an ultimatum will mess things up."
Jax's Thoughts - Here's another lacking in credibility myth for you. According to the Buddha of middle aged white women in red states, Dr Phil, "It is a myth that a great relationship requires a great romance." Phillip, isn't a relationship without romance a ...what's that word...stay with me...it's coming.. a friendship?
Cosmo: "The best way to make sure you'll stay relaxed is to talk to him as soon as you realize marriage has been on your mind frequently."
Jax's Thoughts: Want to stay relaxed. I suggest the Obama presidential acceptance speech method: Pretend you're The Fonze after 15 hours of Bikram Yoga, reading "The Secret" and downing a bottle of Quaaludes. Oprah stays easy breezy with heart to hearts with Stedman by purchasing a nonthreatening heavyset white man to lean on.
Cosmo:"When you start getting those persistent wedding-bell urges, find a nonstressful time to chat, like during a quiet dinner."
Jax's Thoughts: Be specific, Cosmo. Come on. It's crucial that said "quiet dinner" take place at the Olive Garden. Their motto, "When you're here...you're family" is sure to subliminally persuade your noncommittal special man to make you a part of "his family". If that doesn't work, the magical aphrodisiacs in the Five Cheese Ziti al Forno is sure to make him fall into a love coma. Then a real coma.
Cosmo:" Make a date to have a follow-up convo"
Jax's Thoughts - The follow up is brilliant. During this time, he will meet, fall in love with and marry a woman who doesn't get ultimatum advice from "Cosmo".
Good news. Keep reading Cosmo for tips on how to find a new man: Win his heart by loosing your sense of self, anorexia and the perfect appletini.
I have a dad, a brother, guy friends, past boyfriends and a current boyfriend. So I am pretty educated as to what guys adore:
- Beer
- Grills
- Lazy boys(with ass groove)
- Greasy trailer park lesbian threesome porn
- Ultimatums
Oh I know...I am aware that you're saying, "But Jax!," Say it isn't so. Men are in the Facebook group "Fans of Ultimatums"...really?
According to the MOST reliable information source (after Urban Dictionary and my waxer),"Cosmopolitan", men love when women(often in an act of desperation) demand fulfillment in a specified period of time.
Cosmo, You're incorrigible. Tell me how the XY chromosome types are, ya know, totally cool with a good 'ol fashioned ultimatum?
Cosmo :"It's a relationship myth that giving your guy an ultimatum will mess things up."
Jax's Thoughts - Here's another lacking in credibility myth for you. According to the Buddha of middle aged white women in red states, Dr Phil, "It is a myth that a great relationship requires a great romance." Phillip, isn't a relationship without romance a ...what's that word...stay with me...it's coming.. a friendship?
Cosmo: "The best way to make sure you'll stay relaxed is to talk to him as soon as you realize marriage has been on your mind frequently."
Jax's Thoughts: Want to stay relaxed. I suggest the Obama presidential acceptance speech method: Pretend you're The Fonze after 15 hours of Bikram Yoga, reading "The Secret" and downing a bottle of Quaaludes. Oprah stays easy breezy with heart to hearts with Stedman by purchasing a nonthreatening heavyset white man to lean on.
Cosmo:"When you start getting those persistent wedding-bell urges, find a nonstressful time to chat, like during a quiet dinner."
Jax's Thoughts: Be specific, Cosmo. Come on. It's crucial that said "quiet dinner" take place at the Olive Garden. Their motto, "When you're here...you're family" is sure to subliminally persuade your noncommittal special man to make you a part of "his family". If that doesn't work, the magical aphrodisiacs in the Five Cheese Ziti al Forno is sure to make him fall into a love coma. Then a real coma.
Cosmo:" Make a date to have a follow-up convo"
Jax's Thoughts - The follow up is brilliant. During this time, he will meet, fall in love with and marry a woman who doesn't get ultimatum advice from "Cosmo".
Good news. Keep reading Cosmo for tips on how to find a new man: Win his heart by loosing your sense of self, anorexia and the perfect appletini.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Day 347- Ask Jax - Part 22
July 21st, 2010
This is the 22nd installment of my "Ask Jax" series. I'm open to answering ANY of your pressing inquiries with little to no thought, accuracy and sensitivity. I can't guarantee instant publication, but I will hold onto all questions and attempt to answer them at some point during my 365 day blog entry challenge. Remember there are no stupid questions. Just stupid people who ask questions.
The Scarecrow got a brain, Tin Man got a heart, Lion got courage, Dorothy got home, what did Toto get? - Claudia Mizrahi, Brookln, New York
Jax's Answer: Rabies, Kennel Cough and 7 minutes in heaven with a Bichon Frisé in a tutu
How did you train for your marathon? Any special secret? - Page Newsom Pelphrey, Guilford, Connecticut
Jax's Answer: Run. If anything gets in your way...move.
If they shaved Mickey Mouse, would it reveal six-pack abs? - Jarod Kearney, Staunton, Virginia
I wish. Sadly, the nation's "It" mouse is lacking superior, ripped and washboardy abdominal muscles. However Jarod, do shave Mickey if you're interested in seeing nipple rings made of Gouda cheese, a pot belly that's the result of eating too many left over croissants from failed Euro Disney and a tattoo that says, "Donald can kiss my rodent balls. No. seriously. He can."
This is the 22nd installment of my "Ask Jax" series. I'm open to answering ANY of your pressing inquiries with little to no thought, accuracy and sensitivity. I can't guarantee instant publication, but I will hold onto all questions and attempt to answer them at some point during my 365 day blog entry challenge. Remember there are no stupid questions. Just stupid people who ask questions.
The Scarecrow got a brain, Tin Man got a heart, Lion got courage, Dorothy got home, what did Toto get? - Claudia Mizrahi, Brookln, New York
Jax's Answer: Rabies, Kennel Cough and 7 minutes in heaven with a Bichon Frisé in a tutu
How did you train for your marathon? Any special secret? - Page Newsom Pelphrey, Guilford, Connecticut
Jax's Answer: Run. If anything gets in your way...move.
If they shaved Mickey Mouse, would it reveal six-pack abs? - Jarod Kearney, Staunton, Virginia
I wish. Sadly, the nation's "It" mouse is lacking superior, ripped and washboardy abdominal muscles. However Jarod, do shave Mickey if you're interested in seeing nipple rings made of Gouda cheese, a pot belly that's the result of eating too many left over croissants from failed Euro Disney and a tattoo that says, "Donald can kiss my rodent balls. No. seriously. He can."
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Day 346 - Flatter Me With Plagiarism
July 20th, 2010
Last night. Made steak. Felt primal.
My favorite animal is steak. This last sentence. Stole it. Thanks comedian Fran Lebowitz.
I wanted to channel my inner Carlos Mencia and be accused of being a plagiarist by stealing jokes from a number of comedians. In typical South Park fashion, an episode entitled "Fishsticks" had an animated Mencia admit "I took credit for it because I'm not actually funny!.... I just take jokes and repackage them with a Mexican accent!"
Later in the show, he is killed by Kanye West.
So it seems as if the Honduran-born American comedian's career hasn't suffered from taking credit for other people's jokes. So that means one thing. I must aim higher and be the thief of another person's words and ideas.
Let's do this.
I woke up this morning and it was delightful outside. "A day without sunshine is like, you know, night." - Steve Martin. I needed to go shopping and as we all know, "Every town has the same two malls: the one white people go to and the one white people used to go to." - Chris Rock. I hopped in a cab and had the driver stop at the bank. "Why do they put Braille on the drive-through bank machines?" - George Carlin. I was unpleasantly overcome by a pungent odor in the car. "What's with the cab drivers and B.O.? Just how long are these shifts? It's like they just get in the cab and drive 'til they are dead. Then they always have that cherry popit on the dashboard. Like that's suppose to be some kind of an improvement. Now you've got the cherry flavored B.O. I can't even imagine fruit going that long without a shower." - Jerry Seinfeld. "I had a cab driver in Paris. The man smelled like a guy eating cheese while getting a permanent inside the septic tank of a slaughterhouse." - Dennis Miller.
When I arrived at the Caucasian mall, I was pleased that the food court was selling Hot Pockets. "There is the vegetarian Hot Pocket for those of us who don’t want to eat meat, but would still like diarrhea." - Jim Gaffigan. After inhaling the processed microwavable turnover, " I was sweating like Kathy Lee at a Carrot Top look alike contest" - Lisa Lampanelli. My eyes are bigger than my stomach so I continued to peruse more edible mall options. "I bought a doughnut and they gave me a receipt for the doughnut… I don’t need a receipt for the doughnut. I give you money and you give me the doughnut, end of transaction. We don’t need to bring ink and paper into this. I can’t imagine a scenario that I would have to prove that I bought a doughnut. To some skeptical friend, Don’t even act like I didn’t buy a doughnut, I’ve got the documentation right here… It’s in my file at home. …Under D." - Mitch Hedberg.
I was feeling guilt for overeating because "You have to stay in shape. My grandmother, she started walking 5 miles a day when she was 60. She's 97 today and we don't know where the hell she is." -- Ellen DeGeneres. I blame my overdose on it being that time of the month. "Women complain about premenstrual syndrome, but I think of it as the only time of the month that I can be myself" - Roseanne. Whatever the catalyst, I found myself falling into a lethal food coma... I kept repeating, "I've got to keep breathing. It'll be my worst business mistake if I don't." - Steve Martin. "It's not that I'm afraid to die. I just don't want to be there when it happens." - Woody Allen.
Like a gift from the mall Gods, my digestion torment was resolved when a perceived romantic option came my way to the left of the Gyro Hut. "I met this lawyer, we went out, I had the lobster bisque. We went back to my place, yadda yadda yadda, I never saw him again." - Elaine Benes. Yeah, I'm alright with that because my mantra is, "When the sun comes up, I have morals again." - Elayne Boosler.
Last night. Made steak. Felt primal.
My favorite animal is steak. This last sentence. Stole it. Thanks comedian Fran Lebowitz.
I wanted to channel my inner Carlos Mencia and be accused of being a plagiarist by stealing jokes from a number of comedians. In typical South Park fashion, an episode entitled "Fishsticks" had an animated Mencia admit "I took credit for it because I'm not actually funny!.... I just take jokes and repackage them with a Mexican accent!"
Later in the show, he is killed by Kanye West.
So it seems as if the Honduran-born American comedian's career hasn't suffered from taking credit for other people's jokes. So that means one thing. I must aim higher and be the thief of another person's words and ideas.
Let's do this.
I woke up this morning and it was delightful outside. "A day without sunshine is like, you know, night." - Steve Martin. I needed to go shopping and as we all know, "Every town has the same two malls: the one white people go to and the one white people used to go to." - Chris Rock. I hopped in a cab and had the driver stop at the bank. "Why do they put Braille on the drive-through bank machines?" - George Carlin. I was unpleasantly overcome by a pungent odor in the car. "What's with the cab drivers and B.O.? Just how long are these shifts? It's like they just get in the cab and drive 'til they are dead. Then they always have that cherry popit on the dashboard. Like that's suppose to be some kind of an improvement. Now you've got the cherry flavored B.O. I can't even imagine fruit going that long without a shower." - Jerry Seinfeld. "I had a cab driver in Paris. The man smelled like a guy eating cheese while getting a permanent inside the septic tank of a slaughterhouse." - Dennis Miller.
When I arrived at the Caucasian mall, I was pleased that the food court was selling Hot Pockets. "There is the vegetarian Hot Pocket for those of us who don’t want to eat meat, but would still like diarrhea." - Jim Gaffigan. After inhaling the processed microwavable turnover, " I was sweating like Kathy Lee at a Carrot Top look alike contest" - Lisa Lampanelli. My eyes are bigger than my stomach so I continued to peruse more edible mall options. "I bought a doughnut and they gave me a receipt for the doughnut… I don’t need a receipt for the doughnut. I give you money and you give me the doughnut, end of transaction. We don’t need to bring ink and paper into this. I can’t imagine a scenario that I would have to prove that I bought a doughnut. To some skeptical friend, Don’t even act like I didn’t buy a doughnut, I’ve got the documentation right here… It’s in my file at home. …Under D." - Mitch Hedberg.
I was feeling guilt for overeating because "You have to stay in shape. My grandmother, she started walking 5 miles a day when she was 60. She's 97 today and we don't know where the hell she is." -- Ellen DeGeneres. I blame my overdose on it being that time of the month. "Women complain about premenstrual syndrome, but I think of it as the only time of the month that I can be myself" - Roseanne. Whatever the catalyst, I found myself falling into a lethal food coma... I kept repeating, "I've got to keep breathing. It'll be my worst business mistake if I don't." - Steve Martin. "It's not that I'm afraid to die. I just don't want to be there when it happens." - Woody Allen.
Like a gift from the mall Gods, my digestion torment was resolved when a perceived romantic option came my way to the left of the Gyro Hut. "I met this lawyer, we went out, I had the lobster bisque. We went back to my place, yadda yadda yadda, I never saw him again." - Elaine Benes. Yeah, I'm alright with that because my mantra is, "When the sun comes up, I have morals again." - Elayne Boosler.
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