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"Don't believe any of my testimonials"
More about Jack
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Messaging Off[Restricted to Jack's friends] |
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Occupation:
News designer , notary public
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Hobbies and Interests:
biking, walking, sleeping, drinking, eating, hot dogs, eating hot dogs, schematic drawings
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Favorite Books:
The book of lists, the guinness book or world records, the limerick, Don Quixote
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Favorite Movies:
Three Amigos, The Magic Christian, Air force one, Citizen Kane, Apocolypse Now
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Favorite Music:
The Rolling Stones, The Pogues, Bob Dylan, Delta blues, bagpipes
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Favorite TV Shows:
Magnum P.I., The Price Is Right, Da Ali G Show, On the record with Bob Costas
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About Me:
Don't believe any of my testimonials
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Who I Want to Meet:
Anyone who enjoys a smoke and a dirty joke
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lot of money from me and then never
called me. Don't trust him.
weinies to a barbecue I had in
brooklyn. I knew from that moment
on that I would love him the rest of
my days. We once had a plan to start
a bike-riders gang but either I was
too chicken or I moved back to L.A., I
can't remember.
used to really love to sit there all
day and redo his resume. He was damn
good at it! Seriously, I was there
when the tragic accident took place.
Jack tripped over a giant Lego model of
Darth Vader and fell into a Lil'
Diggity Hot Dog Grill in the
cafeteria. It instantaneously sheared
off the middle of his moustache. It
was gruesome.
It's been his trademark ever since.
a green tshirt with leprechauns on it,
a fuzzy pink sweater over it, and a
plaid golfing hat. oh, and bright
silver shoes. i knew right then that
i had to hire him. jack always
provided welcome surreal relief, which
i miss.
was the mothball. With the sharp smell
of vermouth and gin, pouring magic
olives into the grabby hands of the
declasse class, he paraded not only the
wit of Wilde but often his very manhood.
It would make appearances at opportune
times of night, say, when women, perhaps
not exactly unfamiliar with Sir John's
manhood, tried to escape the warm cloak
of his charm and sheer will by
attracting other, lesser men. Their
feminine pretense would be over at the
appearance of his precocious weasel. A
jaunty, "Hey, looka this!" marking and
ending the game like a taunt and
sounding, in Sir John's unique way, like
the only invitation of the season worth
honoring.
falling out his chair at work whenever
he's excited. What a crack-up! He had
the whole office in stitches.
I am, but he would come to my room at
SUNY Purchase and eat oatmeal cookies
made by my roomate Holly's grandma in
his "Don't Mess With Texas" t-shirt and
go through my closet, trying on my
girly shirts and coats. Jack doesn't
remember who the fuck I am, but I was
an original goddamn member of the Iron
Bitches, who went to every stupid, hot,
smokey Iron Men show in the Cave. Hmph.
Hey, Jack, you can suck it!
Jack! I miss hangin' out at the LEGO
kitchen w/ you, eric and flora,
learning some chinese "aa.. aaii..
ei..."
think eyebrows look better under the nose!
I'll just re-design the human species while
I'm at it! Just call me Biggie! Biggie Bigshot,
the smartest boy in the world!
think he's one of the merry men, but
you won't see him wearing tights.
Jack is always mellow, even when he's
hanging out in his Unibomber-style
beach shack. A hell of a guy.