What's in your Tang?

Ever since I was in college I not only wanted to be the rich and famous stud that I am, but I also wanted to do things in space. How cool I used to think; those wicked silver suits, your work commute televised world wide, floating on top of the world... all total chick magnet moves my man!

So now we finally figure out that some of these guys had a few for the road before lighting that candle! I suspected such when I used to work for them (yes. I used to be a rocket scientist also...but never played on on TV!). Now I image the opportunities that can be exploited..er served with the opening of space to the general teaming masses! I can see it now:

CLUB NASA!!!

Come check out the experience under the influence!

MONDAYS! Freeze dried beer night! (and you thought that was salt on those peanuts!?!)
FRIDAYS! Come out and see the "Big Dippa" in action! She puts the "assah" in NASA!

Reservations are encouraged but feel free to just drop in before shooting out! Just Just go south off the Orlando Expressway to US 1 and turn left at the Giant Spaceship!

REMEMBER....WHAT HAPPENS IN SPACE STAYS IN SPACE!!!

एवेर्बोद्य वास कुंग-फू Everybody was Kung-Fu Healing

So here I am in church taking in the sermon (Yes, I said church. I am so down and grounded with the people, you know, because I do these sorts of things!) and and the Pastor lights into this spiel of how Jesus gets all that with the Pharisees who be bringing all this sick shit on the people with all these rules and regulations.

So my attention is rivited as he continues on how Jesus hooks up with this whithered hand dude at the temple, the Pharisees telling him he can't go healing on the Sabbith and Jesus squares of, looks them in the eyes and tells the sick dude to stretch out his hand! I can just picture this! Jesus, bad ass savior! Can't you just see him there... "C'mon suckers, think you bad? Let's see if you got the rocks to knock this angel of my shoulder!" And if I was that healed dude you know how I would be sticking my hand out at those fools!

I go on to think, why stop here? This is a blockbuster just waiting to be made for the masses! This would be first class all the way. I'd get Sergio Leone to direct it out in the wild widerness of New Jersey and Clint Eastwood would play Jesus in the temple messin' with the Phareses ..."Did I cast out six demons or only five? Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kind of lost track myself."

I hope I had the time of my life

Dec 1989: After binging on multiple dishes of 5-way Cincinnati Chili and frozen Jägermeister after a sales meeting, Jess suffers a massive brainfreeze and gets amnesia.
Apr 1990: While touring with the Traveling Wilburys as a replacement for Roy Orbison under the pseudonym of Dropoff Enpikup, Jess is approached by a mysterious bald man in a wheelchair. "I can help you remember your past," he says. So Jess flies to lower Manhattan to start his training as a mutant badass.
Sep 1991: At a rest stop outside of Oklahoma City, Jess is accosted by a mysterious bald man named Morpheus. "I can show you the way," he says. So he joins him and starts his training as a Kung Fu badass.
Jan 1992: After meeting with a mysterious bearded man in a robe out side his Milwaukee motel room, Jess is transported to the Dagobah System to receive his training as a Jedi badass.
Mar 1993: After completing his myriad of training, Jess suddenly remembers who he is, and goes back home to become a Little League Manager.

Image from Day by Day, worth your while to visit!

Pro-neutral demonstrations get heated in Switzerland

Tossing and turning all night, the things a maniacal but beloved tyrant needs to stay on top of his game all the time! The staffing, public relations, loving the peeps and punishing the innocent is a never ending job, but at least the benefits are great! The threads, babes, rides.. it's like bein' da main pimp on steroids!

But once I get what is rightfully mine I still need to keep it in style and ponder these additional notes that I need to keep in mind when the teaming masses proclaim me as Stud Pimp!

- I will not order my trusted lieutenant to kill the infant who is destined to overthrow me - I will do it myself.

- I will not interrogate my enemies in my inner sanctum. A small hotel room well outside my borders will work just fine thank you.

- I will be secure in my superiority. Therefore, I will feel no need to prove it by leaving clues in the forms of riddles or leaving my weaker enemies alive to show they pose no threat.

- I will not waste time making my enemy's death look like an accident. I'm not accountable to anyone, and my other enemies wouldn't believe it anyway.

- I will make it clear that I do know the meaning of the word "mercy". I simply choose not to show any to my enemies.

- One of my advisers will be an average 5-year old child. Any flaws in my plans he is able to spot will be corrected before implementation.

- All slain enemies will be cremated, not left for dead at the bottom of the cliff. The announcement of their deaths, and the accompanying celebration, will be deferred until after the aforementioned disposal.

- My undercover agents will not have tattoos, nor adhere to any style of dress codes, that will identify them as members of my organization.

- The hero is not entitled to a last kiss, a last cigarette, or any other form of last request.

- I will never employ any device with a digital countdown. If I find that such a device is absolutely unavoidable, I will set it to activate when the counter reaches 117 and the hero is just putting his plan into operation.

- I will design all doomsday devices myself. If I must hire a mad scientist to assist me, I will make certain he is sufficiently twisted to never regret his evil ways and seek to undo the damage he's caused. I would kill him straight out, but tech-support is a bitch to find for doomsday machines.

Power to da peoples!

Notes of things to do as an Evil Overlord

I know my time to rule is soon to arrive. But I think to myself, "Self, what ever happened to all those other Evil Overlords of yesteryear and why aren't they still chillin' at the top?" So I did some research and believe I wont make the same screw up!

- My legions of terror will have helmets with clear Plexiglas visors, not face-concealing ones.

- My ventilation ducts will be too small to crawl through.

- My noble sibling whose throne I usurped will be killed as my first act of power, not kept anonymously imprisoned in a forgotten cell of my dungeon.

- Shooting is not too good for my enemies.

- The artifact which is the source of my power will not be kept on the Mountain of Despair beyond the River of Fire and guarded by the Dragons of Eternity. It will be in my safe-deposit box.

- I will not gloat over my enemy's predicaments before killing them.

- When the rebel leader challenges me to fight one-on-one and asks "Or are you afraid without your armies to back you up?" my reply will be "No, just sensible."

- When I've captured my adversary and he says "Look, before you kill me will you at least tell me what this is all about?" I'll shoot him and then say "No."

- After I kidnap the beautiful princess, we will be married immediately in a quiet civil ceremony, not a lavish spectacle in three weeks during which time the final phase of my will be carried out.

- I will not include a self-destruct mechanism unless absolutely necessary. If it is necessary, it will never be a large red button labeled "Danger: Do Not Push".

... and I'm going to keep thinking about this...

image thanks to Brat-halla, one of my favorite comics!

A Day in the life of young Jess...

So I go to the 7-11 on the lower end of Imperial Avenue by LAX and it's like 3 in the morning, nobody there, just the way I like it. I gather up a couple of drumstick ice cream cones, the ones with the flat swirly top. I was into those because they put a block of chocolate at the bottom of the cone to stop the leakage. Brilliant. I supported that kind of dessert technology. Anyway, I also get some Sour Cream & Onion Potato Chips, a V-8 Juice thing and I'm good to go. The Indian dude rings me up, when this Armenian cat walks in and he asks for a condom. Suddenly I feel embarrassed. I actually go, "tee hee." Like a damn school kid. I mean, I'm there with a bunch of junk food and this guy is purchasing a sex device. He sure as shit ain't marveling at the innovations in ice cream technology. He's thinking about getting laid. He's thinking about getting compensated. And me, I'm standing there holding my bag of goodies, as if I'm hoping to win the Golden Ticket to the Chocolate Factory... My God, what happened? When did The Dream go so horribly wrong? Sigh. But at least my drumsticks won't leak.

A lone predator who stalks by night, leaving a trail of bleached bones and employment vacancies..

How many people did you know growing up with that stood in front of your fourth grade class and said they wanted to be in sales? Probably the same number who wanted to be in the sanitation field or lawyers, unless you grew up in D.C. or the Apple! I was the guy who wanted to be the Pope or an astronaut, so how did I find myself doing this at this point in my life?

It seemed all my adult life my so-called peeps would tell me to go into sales. I couldn't figure out why they would tell me that except I still hung on to a part of my soul, so that nixed being a lawyer. Was it my engaging personality? My unabashed but deserving self-promotion? Lunch appointments with the Queen? Who knows what they saw that I didn't. But the darn thing is once I tripped into this sales gig some years ago I found I was good at it. Problem is, I can't articulate the secret method in words. There's no verbal way to demonstrate how I've achieved this state. As much as I'd like to disclose the mystery to you all it resists all known forms of communication. Except one: I'm too dense at times to understand when people are trying to tell me no! Think the same thing happen with all those women I knew over the years. If any of you are reading this, sorry about that!

So now I'm beginning to branch out on my own! "About time!" all my entourage would say I'm sure. And I would call each and every one of them and ask... if only I could remember all their names. So what do I do? What do I market? I can't tell you right now but you're going to want at least a dozen of them when I decide what it's going to be. That's right, you too can be the proud owner of the quality goes in before the name goes on! Act now and receive as our gift to you because they they come in all colors and one size fits all! Act now! Operators are standing by.

Soldier of Love...

It makes the world go round and you can't buy it. It is said that all is fair in love and war and it conquers all. So make love, not war (Unless you love war, but then that's a whole other reflection on you mama.)

You hear it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all and the first one always has a special place in your heart. Love is not only blind but it is colorblind. Love is a many-colored thing.

You have first love, puppy love, platonic love, unrequited love (which might not be so bad if you know the definition of requite!), true love, unconditional love, love at first sight, the love of your life, the one you want your mama to meet, the one that got away...

So through the Tunnel of Love we ride. Make out at Lover's Lane. Take our vows at the Chapel of Love. Cruise the Loveboat and reserve the Honeymoon Suite. And sometimes we gotta stay at the Heartbreak Hotel. But hey, love is a battlefield and I'm just a gansta of love.

For all my selfless devotion I expect hugh returns...

So I’m chillin’ in my usual first class seat, sipping on my third scotch and waiting to be whisked home after once again making the world safe for telecommunications when next to me sits a man of the cloth. It’s cool and all I figure and besides I look so fly in black that I even considered doing the clergy gig one weekend. Anyway I figure I should be on my best behavior so I offer to buy the Reverend a drink (Yeah I know it’s all free in first class but if it wasn’t I would have still antied up, at least for the first round, that’s just the type classy guy I am!) and he looks at me with these wide eyes and says, “Don’t you live in the ways of the Lord?”. I’m thinking to myself “What ever happened to yes and no thank you?” and respond “I would have but the wine selection doesn’t carry his brand.”

So I try to make polite conversation throughout the flight and offer to show him around the Cincinnati night life but he’s blowing me off for some revival. That’s ok, I’ve been ditched for lesser things when he asks in an accusatory manner if I follow the Bible. “The Bible? Of course, I make sure there’s one in every hotel room I stay at!" Not only that but I visited quite a few of those cities mentioned in the Bible; Bethlehem, Nazareth, Jerusalem, Calvary, Jericho. You name about any town in East Texas and I probably drove through them at one time or another.

On genius...

There are so many types of genius, take your pick. You have the 'what in the hell are they talking about' scientists (Hawking, Einstein), the 'Don't get in an elevator with' tortured souls (Van Gogh, Nietzsche), The number tumbling babes (Kovalevskaya, Agnesi), the 'what can't they do' Renaissance men (Da Vinci, Goethe), then there are the self-induced, world revolves around me recluses (Thoreau, Salinger), the great drinking bud bohemian artistes (Shakespeare, Picasso), the 'can't take them anywhere' rabble rousers (Socrates, Rand), the Wunderkind (Mozart, Springsteen), and many other fine examples.

Like superheroes, you can take your pick on what kind of legend you want to be. Me, I go for the Friendly Neighborhood Genius. The All American Clean Cut Genius Next Door. Yes. I'm very down to earth. All my handlers tell me so. One time, this guy in my entourage, I forget his name, he was like, "Mr. Piszczor, sir, you are so down with the people." And I was all, "Damn right sucka. I'm people who am people. Now go get me some perogis."