ConstantCommentary® Vol. V, No. 133, June 29, 2001

So Sue Me . . .

by Mike Jasper


Men are from Mars and women want my penis
(... I'm from the planet Uron.)

"You know, Jasper, it seems like people either love you or hate you." This great revelation was pointed out to me by a friend of mine several years ago. Man, that guy loved me. Hates me now, though.

It's a cyclical thing, the inevitable evolution of all my relationships, whether it's with male or female. It's a simple five-point formula:

1) Mike Jasper's an asshole.
2) You know, once you get to know him, he's not as bad as you might think.
3) I fuckin' love that guy!
4) You know, I'm not sure about him anymore.
5) Mike Jasper's an asshole.

Oh, well. Like the shark, I must constantly swim for new meat. Nothing's constant but change. And cliches. So all my life I've had to work to meet new people, since the old ones eventually turned on me. Fortunately, all my life the world has conspired to make finding new friends easier for me. During the 70s, it was free love. And during the 80s? Personal ads. The 90s brought email and the new century brought... well, too much email really. And I was so counting on Y2K.

Personal Ads were the best. Even the name cracks me up -- Personal Ads. Thirty to 200 words plastered over the most thoroughly read pages of any weekly newspaper in America, and it's called personal. They should really be called Anonymous Ads or Public Ads or Pathetic Ads or... naw, we'll stick with irony. Personal Ads.

The best personal ad I ever read was in Pacific Sun, a Marin County weekly. For those who don't know, Marin County created the yuppie before the label existed. No better place to read personal ads than the Pacific Sun.

And no better personal ad in the Pacific Sun than the following, which I managed to save over the years. It was placed in the Men Seeking Women section.

Warning: Do not read this ad!!!!

Hi. You know me. I'm the guy you keep telling yourself you're going to avoid. I'm the guy who doesn't call when he says he will, sees other women though you wish he wouldn't, and generally drives you crazy to the point of tears or worse. Every time you've been with me, it's been a mistake and an emotional roller coaster ride. And every time you break it off with me (finally) you swear, "Never again!"
 
But let's face it. You're not going to really swear me off, for you are weak. Despite the pain and utter insanity, I've got what you want. Great sex. Incredible sex. And even though you think you should give up Mr. Right Now and start looking for Mr. Right to settle down with, let's face it -- you're not going to do it.
 
Sure, you'll spend your days with a socially conscious, vegetarian, bird-and-bunny supporter who is willing to support you in your efforts to "Save The Whiney Warbler." But that's all for show. That's just window dressing for your friends. "See? I've changed." Forget it. There's plenty of time to change. What you want right now is the ultimate orgasm, because you're young. Wait until you're 45 to settle down. What's the rush? In the meantime, have I got a wild ride for you.
 
So go ahead. Pick up the phone and call the number after this ad. It won't cost you a dime. Come on, go ahead and do it. You know you're going to throw it all away on someone anyway. Why not me? Me, who knows you.
 
Sincerely, The Lickmaster.
PS - Married okay.

To this day, that ad still amazes me. Almost as much as when I wrote it.

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


Link(s) Of The Week

Pacific Sun - Check out the personals

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Mike Jasper is a writer and musician living in Austin, Texas. Originally from the San Francisco Bay Area, he has strong ties to Seattle, St. Petersburg, Florida and North Platte, Nebraska. He can be reached at column@mikejasper.com or PO Box 91174, Austin TX, 78709 or 24-hour voice mail at 512-916-3727. Accessible? I think so.
© 2001 by Mike Jasper, All Rights Reserved. ConstantCommentary® is published every Thursday except for holidays, planned and unplanned. All material is the responsibility of the author. Special thanks to those who helped along the way: Jeff Cox, Susan Maxey, Catherine Clay, Cathleen Cole, Valerie Sprague, Ian Wolff, Laura Martin and Karin Stephenson. (You may download this article, print it out for personal use and e-mail it to your friends. But you must never, ever give Kurt Vonnegut the credit.)