You have to pick your family up from the airport in half an hour. Nobody else can do it but you’re convinced that you have a really bad disease and this cool show about Bigfoot is about to start. A super awesome idea about making a double-decker peanut butter and jelly sandwich just popped into your head too. What do you do?
If you chose Bigfoot, you’re exactly like me. Well, at least how I used to be. Until I decided to become a better person. Ok, maybe I didn’t really decide that but, like, at least three people are really convinced that I did. Maybe you can do like I did and trick people into thinking that there’s a new and improved you. It’s at least worth a shot.
Here’s a few nice tips that I’ve used to brainwash people into thinking that I’m actually trustworthy and decent. They might be able to help you out, too.
GIVE PEOPLE STUFF
Nothing says “I care about you,” quite like a piece of chicken in her face. This Mother’s Day, give back to your mom for all that she’s given to you. Just make sure you don’t leave without sniffing her face for crumbs.
But don’t stop with the chicken for your mom! Actually, yeah. Stop there. It’s way too expensive to be going out and just picking shit up for your friends all the time.
DONATE AND SHIT
The next time a store asks you to donate a dollar to a great cause, do it. Just make sure your name is going up on the wall with the rest of the charity hall-of-famers. Sign your name as Showtime to be sure it sticks out. Then get wild in that bitch! Hang out by your sign and let everyone know who the fuck Showtime is! You just donated to a charity! You can do whatever the fuck you want!
Let people know what’s up. Leave a note at your work station or at home if you’re going to be away. The more honest, the better. Don’t be afraid to be descriptive. Draw pictures, estimate the time you’ll be away. Whatever helps the people around you think that you would actually care about keeping in touch with them.
You should always try to be there for your friends. But like everything else in life, being supportive has its limits. In this instance, that limit is funerals. Your friends can’t expect the world from you and you need to lay down the law in this scenario. “I’m sorry, but I can’t make it to the funeral. My chest actually hurts. A lot,” you explain in an email you send to their work account over the weekend. Your friend gets all mad but it’s one of those sad-mads so you know everything will be fine in a couple weeks.
After all, people die from chest pain every day. If anything, you were just protecting them from another tragedy. What a great friend you are!
These four tips helped me get back on my grandma’s Christmas money list. I can only hope they’ll work half as well for you.
Here’s an extremely important question for you:
Don’t you want to help Donald!? He’s probably so cold without his troosers!
Q: HAVE YOU SEEN CRAYON?
A: Where do I start? It’s brilliant questions like these that always throw me for a loop. How can I satisfy my readers when answering something like this? Questions like these can’t be answered in short answer columns. No, an answer to something like this only comes after years and years of testing in a laboratory. I am trying my best to compile scientific data and a mathematical theorem in the short time that I have to answer your question. Please remember that my margin of error in this particular experiment will be remarkably high.
On a side note, yes, I’ve seen crayon. And it’s WONDERFUL!
Q: Jason, what do you think about old phone numbers?
Signed, Paul Scholls
A: I think old phone numbers are a lot more important than most people realize. For one, they can serve as an important memory exercise test. If you’re a mega-genius like me, you can remember every phone number you’ve ever had, along with every license plate, home address and pants size you’ve ever worn.
Also, think of all the cryptic messages hidden inside your phone number. For example, there’s three sixes in mine. Does that mean I’m cursed? Is my family going to have to throw an exorcism party for me? WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN!?!
Q: Dr. Jason, what’s wrong with my tum tum?
Signed, Five Year-Old Crybabies Everywhere
A: Well, here’s an idea. Maybe if you’d stop eating six bags of chips and five donuts every day, your tum tum would feel just fine! Don’t you know that will stunt your growth!? Be a big boy and stop whining about it. Next time you can’t keep down your twenty-ninth Reese cup, I don’t want you to come crying to Dr. Jason. Throw it up and handle it like a big boy. Do you understand me!?
Our friend over at the purpledogpaintingblog spoke with a detective named Google and was able to find some leads for us regarding the identity and whereabouts of Mr. Joey Cookies. Detective Google was able pinpoint three possible locations that Mr. Cookies may be hiding out in. We are currently looking into reports that he is either operating a bakery in New Jersey or a restaurant in Hong Kong. Another anonymous tipper suggested that Mr. Cookies may be Waldo in disguise. An interesting possibility if you’re familiar with my history with Waldo. I still need your help. Who is Joey Cookies and how did his picture turn up on my computer!?
Have any important questions you’d like to ask me? Something that will change your life? Then leave me a comment, send me an e-mail or make fun of me on Twitter. I will try my hardest not to fuck things up too much for you. Now, save the world by voting for what question you’d like Jason to answer next:
This week, I have a question for you. Can anyone explain to me what this is all about?
Your help would be greatly appreciated.
Q: Dear Jay, what’s the average top speed of a fully mature male hyperodes weevil?
With care, Brian Durner
A: The master of illusion and confusion! Brian Durner! Trying to confuse me with your grown up language and big boy talk!? Well, I’m a big boy too! Just because I didn’t win the scientist competition doesn’t mean that I can’t understand magic! Right? However, I do claim to have an answer to every question. With that clause in my contract, I must provide you with an answer. On a side note, I will never prepare myself a legally binding contract again.
I think the answer to your question lies deep inside your heart. How much do you believe in the mature male hyperodes weevil? How fast do you wish he could run? Or fly? Or…weevil? You see, there’s an important unknown fact about the fully mature male hyperodes weevil. Genies have evolved from them! The weevil, nature’s genie. Catch one and make your dreams come true! Then wish it to weevil around wildly.
Q: Jason, do you look when you wipe?
Signed, Jubilee Swanson
A: Most answer swamis wouldn’t touch this question with a ten foot roll of toilet paper. Lucky for you, I’m wearing a NO FEAR(!!!!!!) t-shirt today. I’m aware that most of you would love a graphic description of my bathroom rituals but I will spare you this time.
Long story short, yes of course. If you don’t look, you’ll never know if you’re really done. Some people claim to be equipped with the seventh sense of rectal awareness. Unfortunately, I’m not one of those people. I will look until the day I die.
Q: Ay-yo, Jase-o! Why do all da girls pose wit dere hand on da hip in all da pictures dey do?
Scribbled, Smart People
A: Brilliantly worded. This is an important issue that I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about. The answer is really quite simple. Because it’s fucking glamorous! Who doesn’t want to pose with their hand on their hip like that? All the dudes want you, all the girls are doing the exact same thing as you, and all the studios are writing movies for you. You’re big time. You’ve seen it all. You’ve done it all. You’re wearing a $23,000 pearl necklace that Jacques Cousteau made for you out of hand-plucked pearls and a string from the harp of an angel. You jelly? See you in the Hamptons bitch. They were like, named after me.
I have one last question to ask and this is an important one. Extremely important. I was running through my computer looking for some pictures when I came across this:
Who is that!? How is this picture saved on my computer!? Can I borrow your tie!? I seriously have no idea who this is or where the flaming tie this picture came from. From the few clues I could gather, it appears as if his name is-I’m not kidding-Joey Cookies. Who is Joey Cookies? Do you know this man? If you have any clues or leads regarding the mysterious Joey Cookies or how I ended up with this picture on my hard drive, you should report them to me immediately.
Do you have any questions you’d like me to answer? Do you have any information on Joey Cookies? Well send them to me. I will answer anything. JasonNotImaginary@gmail.com, tweet @YourPalJason or leave a comment here. Now vote on these hot button issues. The winning selection will be featured in the next presidential debate.
Am I really going to start Ask Jason with a bunch of questions every time I write it? Does it bother you that much? What can you do to stop it? Do you really think that would matter? Are you delusional? How did you know I was? Wait, did you say something? So I might really be delusional?
Woah, that was intense! What even happened back there? Whatever it was, I’m glad it’s over. I’m happy you could join me again for another edition of Ask Jason. Gather around the fire, kiddies, and I will answer any question that your cute little brain can think up.
We’re back down to our usual three questions this time around. I’d like to take the time now to blame all of you for that. Maybe if I intimidate you and call you pussies, you will send me more questions. No, actually, I’m going to take the high road here. I understand that some people don’t feel comfortable asking questions, especially when they deal with such extremely important issues. However, I will commend the brave few that continue to to turn to me when things get confusing in their lives. Don’t be shy, I have the answer.
Q: Almighty Jason, what happens when you sneeze with your eyes open?
With Love, The Jasonites
A: Thank you to those of you who took the time to vote in the poll. It is always appreciated. The options were kind of weak this time, weren’t they? It won’t happen again, you have my word. Sneezing with your eyes open is something that has mesmerized me since I was a child. The first time that the idea of this heroic act even crossed my mind, I was in middle school. Every week, the teacher would distribute a children’s magazine of sorts that we would read together as a class. The cover of one of the issues featured the headline “NEVER SNEEZE WITH YOUR EYES OPEN!” in the largest text I’d ever seen. The headline was positioned over a picture of a cartoon cat with its tongue sticking out and its eyeballs hanging out of the sockets. Since then, I’ve been looking for volunteers to test it out so I could see the effects firsthand. What, you thought I was going to try that shit out myself? Yeah right. Sorry, but having the ability to lick my bungee jumping eyeballs isn’t the super power that I’ve always wished I had. But that could never actually happen to you, even if you tried. Any volunteers?
Q: Jason, can you describe what a normal trip to Walmart is like for you? What items do you usually buy?
Signed, Jubilee Swanson
A: I think you meant to ask what a normal trip to My Fashion Headquarters is like for me. But there are a few different kinds of Walmart trips. There’s the grocery shopping trip which we all know I despise. Then there’s the random shopping trip. This one obviously starts out at My Fashion Headquarters, moves to the toy aisle so that I can browse the newest wrestling action figures, then will end up in the health section as I stock up on vitamins and muscle powder to help further advance my bodybuilding career. The third and final kind of Walmart trip is my favorite. This is the “it’s three in the morning, I’m bored and Walmart is the only thing open” trip. Believe it or not, this trip is actually fun. This one starts out in the action figure aisle! After ripping open the packaging of the two toughest looking wrestlers and having a hardcore, anything goes match with them, I stuff them in my pocket and sprint to the gun counter. I ask to test out the telescope on each gun (I think that’s what they call it) but once I get one in my hands, I spin around in circles while pointing the gun forward and making machine gun noises. I won’t stop unless the guy working the counter yells “atten-hut!” and I tell him that as he’s screaming at me to stop. Eventually, I get bored with my machine gun game and find as many toy instruments as I can. I rush to the karaoke machines and make up as many songs as I can think of. That’s right, once every couple of weeks I record a Walmart album. I normally leave the tape in the karaoke machine so that whoever buys it can have a piece of history. Once my classic album is finished, I find some roller skates and strap them on. Then I skate as fast as I can out the door with the wrestling action figures still in my pocket. Success!
Don’t worry guys, Ralph is back.
What are you thinking? You are a bunch of idiots! Jasonites?, really that’s a stupid name. It sounds like some sort of heaven’s gate cult or something. So why don’t you all go do us a favor and strap on a pair of white Nike’s and kill yourselves. By the way sorry you haven’t heard from me for a while but I was on vacation in the Ozarks. I would have read the blog on my phone but I have to take a break once in awhile as I feel that reading this garbage decreases my intelligence and my sanity. Also only poor people would suffer through this dribble for entertainment, I’m surprised you can even afford an Internet subscription. Before you even start I don’t come here for entertainment purposes, what I do is a public service.
Screw you guys,
Jason, you don’t want to rap battle me again, or did you forget what went down back in ’93.
Woops, typo! It’s one thing when you come on here and insult me. It’s another thing when you blatantly attack the Jasonites. I’m sorry that you don’t find my memoirs entertaining. But those that do clearly have better taste in entertainment than you do. Vacationing in the Ozarks? What’s the main attraction there? The sister-kissers club? Ole Ollie’s Down Home Blue Grass Saloon? You’re right, I’d much rather be doing that right now. Oh the excitement! What do you mean reading this blog decreases your intelligence? This blog has more coherent thoughts in a single post that you’ve had in your life. Thanks for proving that to me in your latest letter. No Jasonite is going to kill themselves either. I know that would really help you get off (suicide loving sister-kisser), but it’s not going to happen. Jasonites are an exclusive group of people that know how to practice self-appreciation and understand how important they are to the world around them. I’m sorry that you feel worthless, but the people that come here sure as hell don’t. As for calling us all poor people, that’s a joke right? This blog is clearly tailored to those with insanely high IQ’s and stacks upon stacks of money just hanging out in their bedroom. If what you do is a public service, then what I do is charity work. Your useless services are going to fall victim to budget cuts, while this blog will go on forever as a useful, free goldmine of love. Muah.
I will always hate you, Jason
P.S. Big deal, you made me cry in the first rap battle I was ever in. Let’s try it again. I promise you the outcome would be different. Remember, I beat Lil Wayne.
That will do it for this edition of Ask Jason. PLEASE send me your questions. Remember, you can ask anything! You can either tweet me @YourPalJason, e-mail me at JasonNotImaginary@gmail.com or leave a comment here with your question(s). Any other way that you could get it to me would be greatly appreciated as well and I would specifically prefer a Blue Mountain musical e-card. Now, please help select the question that will be answered from the poll in the next Ask Jason.
Can you hear my voice when you read this? What does Jason’s voice sound like to you? How did you know that? Do I know you? Will you please stop that? I’m sure you would love to ask me one of these questions. Go ahead. SERIOUSLY, JUST COPY ONE OF THEM AND SEND IT TO ME.
Welcome to the answer of the most important question you’ve ever asked. This week, I’ll answer the only respectable three word question, subliminally mimic Daniel Tosh in the intro, and answer the question of my dreams.
Ask Jason is blowing up! I’ve been asked questions from all corners of the world this time around and have had more questions asked than ever before! That’s right, we have FOUR!! Ok, maybe I didn’t really get questions from all corners of the earth. But I did get one from Argentina! Ok, that’s not true either. But for the first time ever, the Jasonites from Twitter and WordPress want in on the act. Ultimate excitement. I can’t contain myself. I can’t even imagine what you feel like. I’m sorry to keep you waiting, I know you’re busy.
Q: Man, that was awesome. Ralph was such a dick. WTF?
Answer me right now or else, Maxim’s Madness
A: Our old buddy Ralph. You know, I can’t tell you why Ralph is such a dick. I’ve known him for such a long time and every time I see him, he’s almost kind of friendly. But then when he gets on the internet, and on my blog in particular, he becomes a demonic figure. He feels invincible. He’s reckless. He thinks he can say whatever he wants. He thinks he could kill a small child just by flicking them in the ear. He does have some pretty fat fingers though. So maybe it really isn’t that unrealistic. I think he’s jealous of my blog and my life. I think he’s jealous of the Jasonites. I think he’s jealous that if he had a group of followers or fans, he couldn’t call them the Ralphites because it just sounds stupid. Like, why would you want to confuse your fans with mechanical pencil refills? No, I just meant that it sounded like graphite, sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you, Ralph fans. But Maxim, if I were you, I’d be prepared. Knowing Ralph, he isn’t going to like the fact that you called him a dick. I hope he doesn’t offend you. If we do hear from him again, and I’m about ninety-four percent sure that we will, I will take care of him. Proms.
Q: Jason-do you believe in cake?
I Love You, Dew Nestry
A: YES! Of course I do. When you like to eat as much as I do, cake is like a foreign delicacy that has been hand delivered from the East Indies after a three year voyage over extremely rough seas. I do like certain cakes more than others though. For example, by far my favorite kind of cake, and this may sound strange to those of you that are into the ultra-competitive, breakneck, suicidal reality series Cupcake Fuck or whatever it’s called, is Funfetti. Yes, I prefer homemade cakes to store bought or gourmet cakes. But you can’t overload the frosting, that really destroys the cake. Once, a co-worker baked me a cake for my birthday but loaded it with gross amounts of frosting. It was impossible to eat. I brought a piece of it to her, slammed it down on her desk and screamed “you try and eat this shit! Why the fuck would you ever put so much frosting on this? Learn how to bake a cake next time before you drown another innocent victim in frosting! ” I went to thank her for the cake later in the day but she was crying and wouldn’t look at me. I really don’t know why, I was just trying to give her some advice.
Q: Rugby or Water? Pancakes or Prostititis?
Submitted on Twitter by @Attackofthe
A: When I first met my ex-girlfriend, the first thing I said to her was “I haven’t brushed my teeth today.” I actually haven’t brushed my teeth today either. When I initially saw the first of the two questions, I was definitely leaning toward water. But it’s turning out that I may not be as into water as I once thought I was. There was also that time when I almost drowned in the Lazy River at that amusement park. I’ve been scared to death of inner tubes ever since. Rugby wins by default. Now the second question is much easier. At first, I read the second choice as prostitutes. If that was the case, this would be one of the hardest decisions that I’ve ever had to make. Unfortunately, there is no prostitute option this time. I’m not too sure what prostititis is, but it reminds me of the word prostate which in turn reminds me of a prostate exam which brings to mind the words “trauma” and “nightmare.” My decision here is definitely pancakes.
Q: Is pro wrestling real?
Love, The Jasonites
A: Dream question! I really can’t believe it took this long for a pro wrestling question to be asked. I even had to set it up as clearly the best question on the poll and it still almost lost. But I assure you, you will be pleased with your selection. Is it real? Does this look fake to you!? Yeah, like the title of the video says, he killed him! Pro wrestling is so real that forty-five year old men have dedicated their entire lives to it. They tune in to every single program, cancel plans to watch it, and follow their favorite wrestlers around at the supermarket while screaming “wooooooo” at them. I don’t think they’d waste their lives like that on something fake. Some people complain that wrestling is too much like a soap opera. They argue that there’s too much drama and if they really wanted to beat each other up so badly, they would just do it instead of talking about it and putting on a show. This, to them, is proof that wrestling has to be fake. But guess what. Soap operas are super fucking realistic. Don’t tell me that you’ve never come into contact with an alien that was trying to rescue a crystal from your planet…or something. Just like I do with rap music, I have actual firsthand experience with professional wrestling. That’s right, you’re talking to an expert on the subject. I was a professional backyard/living room wrestler for at least five years of my life (yes, I do put that on my resume). I challenge you to go out and get smashed over the head repeatedly with a steel street sign and then have to hide it from your opponent under a “ring” made out of garbage picked mattresses and box springs because you are in so much pain that it is starting to burn all throughout your body for some reason. Or get body slammed onto crushed up CD cases that are made to look like glass and then have to pour fake blood all over your face. Ouch! Fake blood stings! Sounds pretty real to me.
That will do it for another fine edition of America’s favorite answer column. If this edition sucked, the blame can be placed solely on myself. I was provided with more questions than I’ve ever dreamed of. That being said, keep it up! You can get questions to me by commenting on this post, tweeting at me @YourPalJason, email me at JasonNotImaginary@gmail.com, or come up with something creative like sending me a singing telegram. If you could make the singing telegram guy swear in his song it would be even better. Like usual, I will leave you with an extremely important poll. The winning question will be addressed in the next Ask Jason.
Hello again. Is it that time of the month? Are your dreams at night 3 sizes too big? Have you ever loved a Doug? Does any of this make sense to you? It doesn’t? Oh? These are all examples of questions that I’d be happy to answer for you. Yes, even “Oh?” Remember, you can ask me anything and I will answer it. This edition of Ask Jason features a question on renting vs. buying, the age old Where’s Waldo debate and our
buddy least favorite person in the entire world Ralph pays us another visit. Sit back and enjoy the only answer column that gives you the answers you’re looking for.
Q: Dear Jason- After years of renting, I have been considering buying a house of my own. Do you think I should take the plunge and become a home owner?
A: Well here are some questions I’d like to ask you to help you determine if you are ready to become a home owner. Do you have to store your clothes up in the attic? Is your landlord a complete idiot? Does he tell you things and forget them within seconds? Did he promise to drop off homemade wine for you at least twenty times, forget to do it, ask you how the wine was and yell at you when you told him he never dropped it off? Does he start conversations with you by screaming the second you pick up the phone over something you had nothing to do with? Is he in cahoots with your insane downstairs neighbor? Does your downstairs neighbor send you texts at five in the morning that read something like this: “thou shalt not walk upon thine own floor with shoes secured around thy ankles once the clock strikes eleven?” If you answered yes to any of these questions, I think it’s time to buy a house. Just be prepared to spend all of your free time doing random shit like cutting weeds around your house with scissors and sweeping your driveway.
Q: Jason, we have spent a good twenty-seven years of our collective lives searching for that bastard Waldo. We need your help. You need to solve this mystery for us. Where’s Waldo!?
Love, The Jasonites
A: First of all, thank you to all of the Jasonites that voted in the latest poll, I was hoping you’d pick “Where’s Waldo?” because I have a lot to say about this topic. Why are we always searching so hard for Waldo and why is it so hard to find him? You would think a guy that hasn’t changed his clothes in twenty-plus years would be easy to locate based on smell alone. Speaking of those clothes, have you ever noticed how much of a hipster Waldo is? Those glasses, that beanie, the tight jeans and the striped shirt? All he was missing was a mustache. This guy was the ultimate hipster influence. You would think he would’ve checked in on FourSquare by now and helped us all out. But seriously, why can’t we find this guy? Is he a fugitive or a homeless junkie? Those are the only two groups of people that I know of that are this impossible to locate. Has anyone tried to page him? That might work. What about just asking him? Oh, right, you’d have to find him first. If all of this talk has you pissed off about not being able to find Waldo, you should play his NES video game. All you kids out there that whine about games like Final Fantasy being soooooo hard, why don’t you check out Where’s Waldo? But I have no idea where this douchebag could be. When I do find him, and trust me I will, I am going to hurt him.
Oh goodie! Our dear friend Ralph is back!
To Whom it May Concern;
Sorry for the grammatical errors, not everyone can have their mom proofread their stupid blog. Here is a question for you, why? Why do you write this garbage about your life? No one cares. Is it because you have no friends in real life? Perhaps scarring childhood experiences that left you in a bad place mentally, and you feel that you need to do this as therapy. Please explain.
P.S. Moustaches are for pussies.
I don’t care if you’re allowed to start a letter like that or not, I’m doing it. Speaking of having no friends in real life, didn’t I just see you the other day? Oh yeah, that’s right, you walked up to me and tried to pat me on the shoulder while saying hello. Luckily, I dodged your shoulder tap but I pretended I was doing the limbo just so I wouldn’t hurt your feelings. See! I’m a good person! Why do I write this garbage about my life? Good question Ralph. THAT’S A GREAT QUESTION RALPH! YOU ASSHOLE! I’M SCREAMING AT THE COMPUTER SCREEN RIGHT NOW AS I WRITE THIS BECAUSE I HATE YOU! AND I AUTOMATICALLY WIN THIS ARGUMENT FOR TODAY BECAUSE I’M TYPING LOUDER!!1!!!1 MAYBE I DON’T HAVE ANY FRIENDS IN “REAL” LIFE! BUT IN IMAGINARY LIFE, EVERYONE THAT COMES HERE IS MY FRIEND! I SHOULD CHALLENGE YOU TO A RAP BATTLE (foreshadowing) YOU NO GOOD BOZO! Actually, you know what Ralph? I’m not even mad. You could never make me mad. You can’t beat me. Not even at checkers, backgammon (which I’ve never even played) or Dominos (not sure if I’ve played that either). You definitely can’t beat me in an argument. Can’t wait to hear from you again!
P.S. If I had a mustache, it could kick your ass. Who’s the pussy now?
This concludes another fine edition of the only answer column that matters. Did you think that this edition sucked? Well that’s your own fault! Submit your questions! You can get them to me either by commenting on this post, sending an e-mail to JasonNotImaginary@gmail.com or by tweeting me @YourPalJason. There are several other ways that you can get a question to me that I’m sure you can figure out. Remember, you can ask anything.
Now, please take time out of your important life to answer this poll. Once again, the winning question will be addressed in the next Ask Jason:
America has questions and Jason has answers. Want to know the square root of 3? Need to find a good way to break up with your girlfriend? Want to know who will win American Idol? (Please don’t ask me that.) Looking for a cheap plastic surgeon? Do you really think I can help you with any of these things? You’ll never find out if you don’t ask. No question will go unanswered and no subject is off limits. Ask anything. Let us begin.
Q: Jase, if you could have any animal as a pet, what would you choose…and why?Signed, Anonymous
A: Ann, as we can see by your question, we are now on a shortened first name basis. There is no longer the need to write out your full name when sending me questions. What animal would I like as a pet? This is a tough question. I can tell you what animal that wouldn’t be. A bird. The sole reason for this decision is that I’m scared to death of them. I had a bird when I was younger and somehow, he frequently broke out of his cage. Every time he did, my mom would freak out and yell “RUN!!” and shove my brother Marvin and I in the nearest closet while she shielded my then-baby sister Jessakin. If that doesn’t sound like a mentally scarring experience, tell me what does. Quick aside, yes my name does rhyme with my brother’s and sister’s names. My parents were poets and they definitely did know it. And it was embarrassing.
Q: Do you think it tarnishes the legacy of a star player if he fails to win a Stanley Cup with his long-time team but wins it with a perennial contender?Signed, Joe B in Lockport
A: YES! Sports! I’ve been hoping and praying for a sports question to come my way. Thank you for answering my wishes Genie Joe. Also, can you believe I have readers in Lockport?! Talk about going worldwide. When I look at this question, the first name that comes to mind is Lanny McDonald. For those that are unfamiliar with Lanny, he had the most beloved mustache in the history of hockey. He was a pretty good hockey player too. Lanny reached superstar status as a member of the Toronto Maple Leafs in the 1970s but was unable to bring the elusive Stanley Cup home as a member of the team. As Lanny’s career wound down, he spent the last half of his career with the Calgary Flames. In his last NHL season, Old McDonald finally had a Cup on his farm. Is Lanny McDonald’s legacy tarnished for not winning a Cup with the Cable Thiefs ? Lanny’s real legacy is his mustache. I’ll always remember Lanny for his last moments as an NHL player. Lanny sipping from the world’s most prestigious pimp cup as his mustache (now fused into a magnificent playoff beard) cried champagne tears of joy. My answer is no.
Here is a letter that I received from a member of an apparent anti-Jason coalition. I have included my answer as well. Please note that he insults each and every one of you. This means war.
you suck. Yes I am aware that is not a question, but I felt that everyone should know the truth. Here is a question for you, How do you manage to suck so much? Now I now this is a bit vague and hard for you to comprehend, but for the sake of your “readers” please try to explain how it is that you suck more than a Flow Bee in a Billy Mays commercial. Riddle me this O Great Wizard!
I hope you die in a fire,
Not your pal Ralph
Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me. That is, unless they’re spelled incorrectly and used improperly in a sentence. But I’m not going to be that douche bag that points out your grammatical errors. (Wait, I already did that?) I have much more that I’d like to say to you mister. By putting the word readers in quotes, you have managed to insult each and every one of the Jasonites. By insinuating that they don’t exist, you’ve guaranteed yourself the top spot on the sinner list at the Jasonic Temple. The fact of the matter, Ralph, is that you’re actually the one that sucks. Want to know how I know? You know what a “Flow Bee” is. Sorry, I have much more important things to do than catch up on five year old Billy Mays commercials. What is a Flow Bee though? I’m curious. No, actually I’m not! No real person would ever give a Ninja Turtle flying-kick fuck. This “question” is the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen. All of my teachers that I had growing up that said that no question is ever a stupid question must have never met you. This is a worse question than “ooooh, did you get a haircut?” when you come into work bald after having a mullet the day before. No idiot, it fell off and I spent the entire night in the hospital. Does it look noticeably different? Please help, I’m scared! Anyway, I hope I die in a fire too. When I’m 165 years-old though. That sounds like a much more legendary fate than “succumbed to cance (my personal nickname for cancer).” I’m glad you’re not my pal.Never chew your nuts, Jason
Please submit your questions for the next edition of Ask Jason. They can be submitted as comments here or in an e-mail to JasonNotImaginary@gmail.com. Or you can exercise your creative muscles and figure out another way to get them to me. I hope someone rips Ralph a new one. New hole in his purse that is. I love you all, signed Jason.
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