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Archive for November, 2002

|| November 30, 2002 || 11:06 am || Comments (5) ||

Three reasons you should call your InterWeb pals over the holiday to wish them a well-done bird (or something):

~You might learn from one pal that they do, in fact, change the trees out-of-doors to match the local decor in certain regions of the country.
~One pal’s wife might answer the phone and you might get into a conversation about self-deprivation which culminates in the two of you yelling “UNDERPANTS!!” simultaneously. Never mind that speaking to said pal would be anti-climactic after this. This moment of synergystic behavior negates all else.
~One pal, in a pretty spanky imitation of Your Ownself, might utter the spastically BRILLIANT line, “Ahhh, what the hell….I’ve got a uterus and insurance; I’m covered!”

Hope you all enjoyed gnawing on bits of giblet.

|| November 30, 2002 || 10:58 am || Comments (4) ||

So….I got an e-mail with “sometimes my anus bleeds backwards” in the subject line today, and while I think this is brilliant, I am wondering what ChristoCarto thinks of it. What say, young Carteau?

This entry brought to you by EgoStroke of America, and is in no way affiliated with the authoress. Her views on the matter are probably loud, troublesome and vile in nature.

|| November 30, 2002 || 10:41 am || Comments (0) ||

Pillow talk:

MAXIM: Be nice.

JETT: Me? I’m alwaaaays nice.

MAXIM: Unhhh, no, that’s somebody else.

|| November 25, 2002 || 9:15 pm || Comments (6) ||

Brynne (she’s butt-nekkid, heh.)! Dean! And (oh-laws-how-I-heart-his-niftaaaay-logo) ATOMIC NED! Bring the love, people.


….seems that everyone has forgotten about TACKY PACKtm submission for this month. You fucking ingrates. You insufferable heretics. Send me Thanksgiving Haiku (JaneDOE came up with that one, you can thank her) and you’ll be forgiven, i.e. entered into the drawing. For the people that don’t pay attention, SEND IT TO THE TACKYPACKtm E-MAIL ADDY. Anything in relation to THE PACKtm sent to my reggler inbox will be deleted out of hat from here on in. You been warned.

Haiku me, baby! Anyone using the terms ‘giblet gravy’, ‘tryptophan’, and ‘Jett rocks my dumb ass’ (while still maintaining the Thanksgiving theme) will get two draws in the hat. If you manage to squeeze them all in there while still making half a grain of sense you’ll get FOUR. Rock on, mighty _________________.

See that blank above? I need a collective name for my readership. Anyone have any suggestions? Jettophiles? Superiorettes? Lay it on me, sweet little muffinasses!

|| November 25, 2002 || 5:43 pm || Comments (7) ||

I! Am an asshole!

Sam has been throwing-up sick the last couple of days and my nights have been spent warm-bathing my child and washing sheets and blankets. Therefore, I’m just a titch punchy.

Got up to make french toast this morning and discovered we were out of milk. Can’t make good french toast without milk, nor the requisite backup cereal, so it’s off to the market I go. Zoom in, zoom down aisles, get to checkout and take a breath. The cashier was conversing with the bagger in a whispery-hoarse voice, so I say (still sounding a tad like Debra Winger, m’self….not completely over this airborne laryngitis just yet), “I just got over that mess. It was horrible.” She looks at me levelly and says, almost offhand, “I was born like this.” Strike one.

Harried and behind on the way down the street, I noticed the gas gauge was merrily on ‘E’, so I swung into the local Mom ‘n Pop Fillerup Place, where they always pump efficiently and I always tip nicely. On this day, the ownerman’s teenage daughter was running the show and I roll down the window, as per usual, and tell her how much of what kind to put in the JettMobile. I roll the window back up and write out my check, replete with tip. After a couple of minutes, TeenGirl GasPumper taps on the window, also as per usual (when she’s finished filling ‘er up, ya unnerstand) and I hand her my check, smile and thank her. I roll up the window, shift into gear and there commences the awfullest racket. At the top of the heap of sound, I hear the two old geezers that usually hover outside to gossip like biddies clamoring to see who can yell “HEYHEYHEYHEYHEEEEEEYYYYYY!” loudest. I look in my rearview and side mirrors to see that I have effectively driven off with the gas nozzle –WITH HOSE– trailing from the side of my car. Niiiiiiiice. Never mind that TeenGirl GasPumper broke both protocol and the rhythm of our regular routine by tapping the glass for the check earlier than usual, I drove off before she removed the nozzle from my car. I broke. The gaspump. Who’s the fucktard now, Ms. Jett Smarmybitch? I rarely get embarrassed. Suffice it to say, I was dayglo red. Strike two.

Got to work, had a productive day, felt good. Despite the fact that I had sleepy eyes and my hair was piled loosely atop my head, I was nicely turned out in a new outfit. I took off early to go to Scout’s basketball game, and somewhere in the third quarter my back started itching, so I reached back to scratch and found, to my horror, that even though I had taken half of the geegaws and tags off of my new pants, I had apparently neglected the ’spare button cache’ and a hangtag. I called my boss, Scott, on my mobile and yelled, “WHY didn’t you TELL me I still had the tags on my britches??”, to which he responded, “Look, girl, with you I never know if it’s a fashion statment or not. Besides, had I done that, you’da known I was looking at your ass.” Touche, and…STEEE-RIIIIIKE THRREEEEE! YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE, JETT!!

|| November 23, 2002 || 6:47 pm || Comments (5) ||

Okay, I know it’s gauche to mention more than one search referral in a week, but….’prenatal porn‘??? I actually goggled at my monitor and yelled, “WHAT???

There’s some fucked-up jackass out there that wants to see porn involving babies in utero and I can admit freely that it really, really fucking disturbs me.

Actually, amazes me first….the disturbed part took a couple minutes to settle into mine cranium.

That’s it. I’m done. You all can have the human race. They’re no fun to play with anymore, not now that I’ve come to the realization that there are prenatal porn-searching ayholes out there.

Hear that, Mr. Prenatal Porn Searcher?? I’ve washed my hands of the populace because of you!!! I hope you are well and truly satisfied!!!!

|| November 23, 2002 || 2:57 pm || Comments (4) ||

This morning I went and purchased new bras. Pretty…new…bras… a handful of them.

Just a minute ago, I went through my inbox, deleting like mad.

I have new lingerie and a clean inbox. I am a new woman!