I just do and do and do for you

I got this letter last night from a reader. I'm forever getting letters from my readers asking me for this or that.

"Give me a link," they whine. And I usually do. "Critique my writing," they whine. And I usually do. Then they get pissed. "Don't you like my writing?" I usually do. The worst letter I get? "Lick my pussy... virtually."

Does anybody remember when virtually meant "in actuality?" And does anybody know how to get the "S" key on the keyboard to stop sticking?

But last night's letter turned out to be well-timed, a symbiotic thing, maybe serendipitous. The author was desperate for some jokes and, as it turns out, I was desperate for a column. Sometimes things work out. Look:

Dear Jasper, King of Comedy, Mr. Funny Fuck -- (I think that's what he called me.)

 

I need help. I am giving a sarcastic speech commemorating Ricky Martin. I need any tasteful/distasteful (but funny) info or stories that you might have about Ricky. I would greatly appreciate the help.

 

I will be giving a eulogy of Ricky as his lover. I will be talking with a lisp. So if you can help, I would appreciate it. I'll also get you an mpeg or something letting you hear or watch the speech as it will be videotaped.

 

So, cheers.

 

Matt

I responded:

Matt, you pissant piece of shit -

I only fucked him once.

So let me get this straight. You're e-mailing me to get help with your fuckin' homework? You fuckin' puss. You fuckin' arrogant motherfuckin' piece of work. You fuckin' University of Minnesota can't-get-into-a-real-school loser. (By the way, loved the nice piece on HBO's Real Sports about U of M's designated plagiarizers for your basketball team.)

Typical of my readers, you know. I want, I need, I want, I need. And me? I just do and do and do for you. Do you promote me? No. Do you tell everyone about my great and, at various times, mediocre columns? No. You hoard me like a fuckin' Ken Griffey baseball card and don't dare tell anybody for fear it'll be stolen. You forsake me, you fuckin' whipsnakes.

Just thought I'd get that out.

So I called my brother tonight. He's in the music biz, the loop as it were (he's Days of the New's business manager, as well as Gunburner, Sister 7 and my personal favorite, Grudgefuck). Here's my bro's take on The Ricky. He says Ricky Martin is generally regarded in the music business as the Pat Boone of a Latino movement that's expected to be The Next Big Thing. Now don't get me wrong. Martin's the Pat Boone of the movement, not the Vanilla fuckin' Ice. People suspect Ricky will have a long and fruitful (I choose my words carefully) career, but he'll never have the prestige of, say, Elvis or the Beatles or Norman Greenbaum.

So let's hit on this Pat Boone thing. If you want to go gay, we'll go gay. After all, I may be straight, but I'm from San Francisco. (By the way, don't tell anybody I told you I'm straight. I've got a really good job and my parents don't know.)

Here's some dialogue you can use:

People say Ricky Martin is the Pat Boone of the Latino movement in music, but they insist he isn't the Elvis. Puhleeeeeze. If Pat Boone had an ass like Ricky's, we'd be calling him The King.

And then there's this:

Ricky Martin (which I prefer to pronounce, Marteen) is the biggest thing to hit the music business since George Michael appeared in a public restroom.

I'd also try this:

You could see signs of his talent back when he starred in the Broadway production of the Tony Award-winning play "Les Miserables." But what did the critics say? They said he was, and I quote, "...miserable in the role." Duh! He was in "Les Miserables" for cornhole's sake. Get a clue, people. Parlez-vous?

If you're really daring, try this:

He's as hung as a black man caught with a white woman in Mississippi. We're talking BIG STAR. And if you think I'm making an Alex Chilton reference, you are sadly mistaken.

You're on a roll:

When Ricky went to meet the big executives at Columbia Records, he signed the contract the first time he went down. It's all in the oral presentation. They liked his singing, too.

And just to prove you're hip:

He was in Menudo, after all. Put that in your borscht and smoke it.

And now a word about character. Forget the lisp. Too cliché and too hard to pull off (unless, of course, you really are gay... or curious). What I'd do is this: Review some Kids In The Hall or Larry Sanders Show video tapes. Study Scott Thompson. Imitate him precisely, and you'll have the gay thing down (I make American joke).

But most of all, get into the role. Believe in yourself. Commit. If you can pull this off, it can lead to bigger and better things. Anal intercourse, I'm thinking.

Mike Jasper

PS -- Here's the deal. You can use my jokes for your speech, but I get to use your concept for my column. And don't worry. This is just between you and me.

Trust me.

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: This column aims to be funny. If you can read anything else into it, you're on your own. Copyright 1999 by Mike Jasper.