Really Awesome Moments in my life.
In this e-mail exchange someone, I hated happened to e-mail my place of business. My employer replied for me.
-----Original Message-----
From: s**** m****
Sent: Saturday, December 18, 2004 7:56 PM
To: mail@*******.com
Subject: Feedback Form
Below is the result of your feedback form.  It was submitted by
s**** m**** on Saturday, December 18, 2004 at 16:55:58
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
phone: 9145551234
request: I am interested in taking your classes and want more information on
them.  I am also interested in the prices for your services.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fuck You!
Are you kidding? DID YOU THINK AFTER FUCKING AROUND WITH (insert exes name here) THAT YOU
COULD BE ALLOWED IN OUR PLACE OF BUSINESS!!!!!!
Jesse
Okay so, she didn't spell my first name right. Who cares?
Okay, so I have to admit, it was a long time ago, and I kind of feel guilty about it, (I do look a little psycho) but it is funny as hell.



Posted 1:56 PM by J.Ro           

Emily Posting It
So today was Papa Stock's birthday. When I called him to wish him well, I got his answering machine. Which of course, somehow within the course of the message conjures up words such as agitation, pretentious, obnoxious, pompous, affected and so on; how you may ask... Perhaps it is because the message is like 2 minutes long and includes a poem.
     Now, I know what you're thinking, J-Rock, your father is a bumbling old funny man who sits around composing poetry to leave on his machine to brighten up your day, you cold, cold bitch. Please bear in mind that while you may imagine a cutesy:

We're not here, we're drinkin' beer!
We're eatin' a snack, we'll be right back!

...this it was not. Nuh-nuh-no, this was a three-stanza poem invoking feelings of contemplation, reflection and boozy Irishness....
     Yes, I said Irishness, my father is a Jew with Irish covetousness; he has a beard, wears cable knit sweaters, and drinks whiskey while reading Joyce and playing The Chieftains until either the neighbors complain or he is so wasted that he burns the potatoes and hallucinates leprechauns. I kid you not, so shut up. The entire joke that is my last name is based on this scenario... but I digress.
     At least Papa Stock has an answering machine; he does not have a cellular phone. He was remiss to switching from rotary until it actually cost more to keep the relic. When asked why he does not possess modern conveniences, Papa Stock shakes his hand at the sky and bellows You can't control me with your satellite messages. I know where you live Stuyvesant!"
      He then lifts a rock from the ground and tries lamely to heft it at the Empire State building. It quickly falls to the ground with a thud, as we are not lifting people.*
     I know this is like totally beating a dead horse, and this was totally over in the 90's but this is my Dad. Someone finds this cute and endearing. I see it as the root of what is deeply wrong with me.
     Answering machines, or voicemail outgoing messages should can say anything you want, but they shall be no longer than 10 seconds. We'll call this, "The 10 second rule," this also applies to the incoming message, unless it involves important details, such as directions, or when and how often to take the antidote.
     There shall be no apologizing, no I am sorry, I am not here right now No you're not! Shut up, these are unnecessary words and take seconds away from my life, that I will never have back, which I am still desperate to recover after watching Wicker Park.
     Suffice it to say I can't take your call right now. No, don't even say that, I already know that, otherwise you would be taking my call and I would talking to you.
     There shall be no music, unless it is unintentional background noise; no intro guitar solo crap from Yngwie Malmsteen. This is neither cute, nor ironic. This will make me hate you, and I will quickly lose your number.
      I hate you now, why are you even reading this? Who cares. I give up. I am now totally bored with this subject.
     I made my father change his message. I yelled at him and said I would never call him again if I had to listen to that crap ever again.
     Now I am sounding like a cruel bitch, but have I mentioned that my father had had this message for seven years!?!



Posted 10:27 AM by J.Ro           

Okay, I Am Totally Posting This All Over The Place
Cue Theme From Greatest American Hero.
Unfortunately I fear by posting this, I am somehow jinxing something.
I also just want to say "Vote or Die," is a really stupid slogan, like the ballot, is dusted with the antidote to the Ebola-AIDS that they're going to be spraying midnight EST when the CA polls close.
Because I always vote, (even in the primarys you jerks.) I have to go serve jury duty tomorrow!
Usually I think this kind of thing is very personal, but because of the Electoral College, I am leaving the party. That statement totally brings to mind images of keggers and frats, sorry dude. I want my vote to count for something.
Oh, and...
FUCK YOU NADER!
I just have to say, if you vote for Nader, the terrorists will have won.
Posted 1:29 PM by J.Ro           

It's Turtles All The Way Down

I hurt myself again. Last week, while changing in a confined space, teetering on one leg, I fell, slamming both my bottom and my top onto tile. My tailbone is bruised or something, not much I can do about it, except bitch and moan. So, um here is me bitching and moaning. Feel sorry for me.
Just a note, As it is getting cold in New York, sometimes you have to turn the heat on. What you don't have to do, is dance around your apartment playing air key-tar singing The Heat Is On before touching the thermostat. I am not going to name names here, but you know who you are, and your name rhymes with Blue Jean.

Posted 4:35 PM by J.Ro           

but it was something i had to do but more so wanted to do or had to do because i wanted to do it so.
That is an uncorrected quote, I have no idea what that means, apparently someone wants or needs to do something, or wants to need to do something....so.
I think it might be poetry.
Posted 2:58 PM by J.Ro           

This Goes Out To Dan and His Pedestrian Lilith Womyn Music Tastes
I went to to a greasy hipster karaoke birthday party this weekend. You know the kind where we laugh at the un-cool people wearing the shirt that they bought in K-Mart, which we're going to buy in a "vintage" store next year at a considerable markup. Chubby suburban co-ed in bad outfit gets up and sings Torn, by that modely looking whiny woman-child Natalie Somethingthatshouldhavebeenchangedbeforeshegotfamousanditstoolate. I always found it to be kind of unbelievable; maybe because I doubted that she could fully express those emotions. I am not sure what gave me this impression, perhaps the vapid look in her eyes that I assumed was a constant haze due to hunger and drug induced euphoria, or she's just really, really dumb, or maybe that she didn't really look all that bitter, like she had never had her heart torn but I digress, this girl felt it. I mean she owned that song. She got up there with that song, hid in it, and was jumping out because she lived there. I could picture her, alone in her room, that song coming on, lighting a candle and lip-synching into the mirror. Yeah, that song has really gotten her through some rough times. There were times in her life that she only had that song and that box of stale valentine's chocolate. She felt every word of it, and I felt her feeling it. A tear almost formed in my arid ducts, and for a moment, I almost felt a mild warmth in my cold bitter heart.
okay, I know Dan, you don't like Natalie Imbruglia, but it's too late, everyone thinks you do! HA!
I WIN!
Posted 1:47 PM by J.Ro           

I had been sort of wallowing in bitterness in the hours between sleeping and drinking not that, that isn't normal; moreover, I think I secretly relish being miserable (well, perhaps not so secretly.)

Rules for a super happy deluxe life:
a.k.a., you must break up with your woman if
By Fuzzy Squid
1. She fails the door test
2. She dresses up as a cat or bunny for halloween
3. She hooks up with anyone (no excuses)

Now I will explain a few things to you.
Monkey Butler Engagement
Diamonds are dirty, I am lazy.
My dream engagement would consist of all of the regular trappings, but instead of presenting the ring in some cutsey, hid in the pastry, down on one knee; I suggest you maybe just go to the bathroom or take an important phone call, or something.
The important part of this scenario is a helper monkey butler.
I want him to be wearing a fez, a vest and maybe a little bow tie.
The fez isn't the most important part, but I think it's cute.
I do insist on pants, because I don't want monkey bits ruining this special moment.
This may sound complicated but, hey, you have to ask your self:
How many times am I going to propose marriage?
He should be holding a little sign, or maybe hand me a note.
I get to keep the monkey, to make me coffee in the morning and shit, which does me a lot better good than some sparkly ring that I will inevitably flush down the toilet a week later when I am drunk.

Time Machine
Many of you have called and written to ask me about my time machine.
Alls I can say is, that I invented everything, or rather will after I invent my time machine, I go back in time and do it.
I am in no rush of course to make this, so don't come and ask me for it. Maybe it's already done.
Hey, get your sweaty hands off my time machine! I am not going to let you play with it anyway, I am the youngest child and I am sick to death of sharing.
Which of course also means, if we have met, I have gone back and forth in time and written down everything you have ever said.
I also have it copywritten.
Everything you have and ever will say, you owe me money for.

I have also made a bunch of T-shirts.
They are wicked fucking cool. I don't have any of them. They don't exist yet. You make them real, kind of like the way you make me real, with your kind words and beautiful thoughts, or maybe that it's that you fulfill me. Yes, yes you make me real and fulfill me. Whatever! You are so special to me, and you were all I was thinking about when I was making them. Yes, you, you know who you are! They're like wishes that you pay for and then they come true. Go buy some. Make a wish come true. My wish is that I have more money, so go run along now and make that come true.
Posted 4:45 PM by J.Ro           

Would anyone want to bang you? by phobia
Name:
Favorite Food:
Wants to Bang you:
This many times:	106
Quiz created with MemeGen!

I know I don't usually fall prey to these. Well once a long long time ago, and it doesn't count. It was under peer pressure and duress.

This made me feel better though, because it in one perfect moment fulfilled my Junior High School fantasy, and because DrunkAdam just asked me if I was going to this booze cruise.

I am too exhausted to do anything right now, much less leave my house. I hear it was a beautiful day!

Actually I am not that bad, Fuzzy Squid. As you know this the enigma that I create; it makes me alluring, saving me from the fate which I have otherwise mapped out.

Obituary January 18th 20**

Ms. Jessie Walsh-Rockemstockem finally succumbed last week to a cocktail of illnesses. Her death has been ruled natural causes, although no acute origin as of yet has been determined due to decomposition. It is presumed Ms. Walsh-Rockemstockem passed away last week, although her body was not found until perhaps a week later by her super. He had been alerted to her passing by the large pile of mail piled outside her door and the distinct odor. Ms. Walsh-Rockemstockem had thoughtfully purchased 28 cow eyeballs for her cats to eat so that they would not eat hers in the event of her passing. Ms. Walsh-Rockemstockem's 28 cats have been taken in by Animal Control and euthanized. Most were suffering from varying degrees of dementia, leprosy, missing multiple limbs and some were rabid.

Her super reports that some items are missing from her apartment after the door was left open to ostensibly "air the stink of death out." These items include but are not limited to her Tele-transportation module, and her time machine. Her collection of 20th century newspapers remained. If found please report to the interdistrict police agency, they should be easily identified as all should still have the same distinct odor which identified the primary situation.

She was known throughout the neighborhood children as "the scary old woman who talks to the signs and sky." and "the woman who only eats pickles, slim-jims and cheese." It is said she was once quite fetching. She is survived by no immediate family.

Posted 7:28 PM by J.Ro           

I HATE YOUR HAPPINESS
The person you are dating is great. They shower you with gifts and appreciate everything you do. They anticipate your every mood and are there to make you happier every day.
Whenever you are in a bad mood puppies and bunnie rabbits appear and you are carried away by fairies to a magical place where chipmunks and kittens dance in front of you and present you with cakes and steaks that have no calories and you shit rainbows.
You have a fantastic job, you're more and more succsessful everyday. You get a promotion or a bonus on a weekly basis. You come in late and they decide to change the work hours to fit your schedule. You expense everything and they pay you extra for slacking and gossiping.
You have a beautiful apartment. It's rent controlled in the coolest neighborhood and the landlord bakes you cookies.
You are fit, young beautiful. People offer to make clothing for you because you are blessed with the perfect body.
You're happy as a pig in shit,
and I hate you for it.
Posted 8:03 PM by J.Ro           

No Takebacks, Make-Ups or Do-Overs
Just apologize and admit that you are wrong.
This is not directed to you.
Posted 6:46 PM by J.Ro           

So apparently, there is going to be an Amish In The City.
I told you so.
Sometimes when I am walking around with Mr. Ballz, I play this game called Crazy or Fashionable The difficulty in playing comes from the neighborhood in which you are in.


Posted 10:33 AM by J.Ro           

An Actual Conversation With My Mother
J-Rock: It sounds dirty.
The Moms: Yeah, sorta like fisting.... but weirder, cause you don't really know what cupping is.
Posted 8:34 PM by J.Ro           

Perhaps I am not as bitter or crazy as I thought.
OMG!
Posted 5:12 AM by J.Ro           

On a sad note my Mother's dog Jeff moved out of our house last night, to live with the angels in doggy heaven. I had quite an unpleasant morning helping him with this relocation.
I was thinking there should be a private service, that could come to your house and move your animal, and perhaps clean up a little. When a person moves in with the angels in people heavan, there are agencies that come and take care of such things in a somewhat respectful manner. I believe (from past experiences) the public protocol for animals involves the sanitation department and garbage bags. It would be nice if this service could be provided 24 hours a day, but not necessary. This is New York City, where people regularly tote their free range organic fed, cashmere-clad lapdogs in Louis Vuitton dog carriers to day-spas, while they work, where their day to day ass sniffing and ball licking is broadcast via live feed, over the innerweb, for you to watch all day.
I would start said company, but I realize I like to keep my lunch in my stomach, and such behavior would not be appropriate or appreciated in the owner's time of mourning.
Posted 2:56 PM by J.Ro           

I love you, and I will never tell anyone about it.
Posted 6:19 AM by J.Ro           

I have been falling lately.
Last week I fell off of a bike during Critical Mass.
The injuries sustained were minor.
Last night I broke my toe. I think I fell out of bed and down some stairs. The visual hilarity not withstanding, I am in a bit of pain.
I have my studio up, so you should buy something from me.
Posted 5:15 PM by J.Ro           

I am no longer employed.
I was fired yesterday from my job of almost three years.
No apologies please. This isn't a bad thing.
As I hate talking about actual feelings or any of that shit, I will keep it short and sweet and say, your job is your bitch.
You know how sometimes you are in a crappy relationship, but you don't want to dump the bitch because you, don't want to sleep alone, you have a kid, she gives great head? So you cheat on her and she finds out, and she dumps you. Well, it's kind of like that. Sometimes, it is easier to take actions to make decisions for you.
Being fired doesn't seem so bad. I slept all day, took some pills out of an amber bottle that had my name on it and avoided answering my new phone that meowed like a cat in heat. I finally broke from this haze long enough to.... well nothing. I ate some cheese. Granted this was the first morning, and things will end when...oh like six months when those benefits run out!
So I am going on unemployment. I am okay with bills, I am not going to starve and the weather is getting warmer. I was even thinking about going on a trip to help me decide what to do next.
Updates I have not shared with you previously.
I know, I promised I would update more.
You should click THIS drop me a line, tell me how you think things are going. You know it's far from done, but it is started, so stop annoying me with those questions everytime we speak, and you know who you are!
One of my new years resolutions is I have stopped this.
I was alerted to THIS by my friend and former co-worker Declan FitzdrunkIrishman. Sorry, I didn't steal it. I attribute it to the collective conciousness, or they copied me, I said it would happen!
The bruises are healing nicely. Oh, wait, no, I mean my teeth. I had the third of six dental surgeries on Monday. I won't detail the intricacies of this years dental adventures, but suffice it to say, I have been a regular at a periodontist. It sounds worse and grosser than it actually is, although nobody wants to see my stitches anymore.
Remember those posts from June, about the ex? I posted e-mails that he had sent me. Well here is another one I recieved on December 11. Reprinted once again without corrections.

Subject : someone from the past you may or may not want to hear from!
Hi Jessie,

     it's been such a long time and i am not sure
whether this was a good idea or not. but it was
something i had to do but more so wanted to do or had
to do because i wanted to do it so. i have started
many letters to you in the resent past and before that
have thought of you often. the letters are filled with
more deletions, cross-outs and mistakes than there are
actually words, let alone ones that make up a coherent
sentence. so i figured it would be best to write you
this short e-mail without stopping to think to much
and ask you if it would be alright to write to you. my
biggest problem is knowing were to start.

regardless of your answer i hope your life is
wonderful, happy, and fulfilled.

how to end this i'm not quit sure so good by,

*spelling bee champ

*okay, I admit, that's not really how he signed it.
I am not really sure what is up with the exclamation point after "someone from the past you may or may not want to hear from!" Am I supposed to be excited by this? Is he yelling? I assume, since he appears to not know what the shift key does, that it must be a really loud whisper.
This came up again, when a friend of a friend mentioned that he had moved to the same city in which she lives. She had never had the pleasure of making his acquaintance.
On Friday night she finally did. He approached her and discussed my dislike for hiim, "I can tell by the look on your face that she still hates me," was the main quote I garnered.
No, I don't hate you, but I got to know you better than you know yourself, and I don't want to know you anymore.
Oh well, I think I am going to sleep now.
Since I am probably going to be even more anti-social from now on, send me some love.

Posted 3:29 AM by J.Ro