Jared, J-Rod
I am a(n): My relationship status is Heisenberg-dependent. Like Schrodinger’s Cat, my relationship status cannot truly be determined. It oscillates between hopelessly entangled and hopelessly bachelored. Any attempt to determine my relationship status will inevitably cause it to switch to the opposite state. That doesn’t mean you should be afraid to ask, however.
Genitalia That Excites Me: I can really get myself into a tizzy over anything that resembles the Smurfit-Stone Building. Or really, anything that doesn’t resemble the Sears Tower.
Occupation: They say that you can pick your nose, and you can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your friend’s nose. This is obviously not the case, as a lucky few of us have managed to earn a respectable living doing just that.
My hobbies are: picnics in the springtime, long walks on the beach, candelit dinners, and tying you up.
My favorite book is: Greenberg’s Advanced Engineering Mathematics, Second Edition. Next week I’m scheduled to sell it for $80, which I will blow on weed and forties. In the meantime, though, it’s nice and heavy so I can use it to smack around my bevy of hos.
My favorite song is: it’s a tie between Ella Fitzgerald’s “It Had To Be You” and Three 6 Mafia’s “Ass and Titties”.
My ideal date: well, first I’d show up at your place wearing the Shroud of Turin, a sheepish smile, and no deodorant. Then we’d go see a film at the local cineplex that I would not be able to pay attention to because you’d be smacking down on your jumbo-sized popcorn like a horse. Goddamn you, why do you have to eat like that? It’s so annoying! And if you keep ordering the jumbo sized popcorn you’re going to get fat as a heifer and then I’ll have to carry on an affair with my 20-something secretary at work which you will undoubtedly discover when leafing through my personal papers and then you’ll sue me for divorce and alimony and… oh, I see! This is your little game, is it? Think just because you got the jumbo-sized popcorn you can cheat me out of one-third of my income for the next forty years? Well, we’ll see about that…… oh, FUCK! You just got butter substitute all over the Shroud of Turin.
Jamie has this to say about me: J-Rod is a genuine sweetheart. One day he’ll be the cutest old Jewish man. But he’s not bad now, even though he’s not shrivelled and kvetchy.