Thanks again for selling me your couch. Got her inside with ease. Looks great against my wall’s earth tones.
How are you liking your new couch? No trade backs 😉
I found a business card in between the cushions. Name is Trudy Bowes. Want her deets? Let me know.
When’s the last time you rotated the cushions? I want to make sure I don’t screw up the schedule.
Called Trudy to let her know I found her card in your couch. She wants you to call! Between us guys, I think she’s DTF.
I’m such an idiot. Spilled some red wine on the right cushion. Did you typically use club soda or distilled water?
Call Trudy yet?
Hey man, I’ve been having a lot of headaches lately. Think I might have my HDTV (LED, natch) too close to the couch. What kind of separation did you have?
Sorry, dude, just realized you may not be Christian. Happy Hannukkah if so!
Trudy messaged me today. Seemed pretty upset that you haven’t called. Going to get a coffee with her and calm her down. You want to meet us? Java Joe at Hawes & Spencer.
January 4 (an hour later)
You’re a breast man, huh? LOL. Excellent taste, pal. She’s a stunner.
January 4 (two hours later)
FYI: Trudy loves the couch!
Hope you’re not mad at me, buddy. Say the word. Couch bros before hoes.
This isn’t just a couch. It’s a Love Seat.
Show me them cannons, baby. Kaboom.
February 20 (five minutes later)
Please disregard previous text.
Have you moved since the couch transaction? Lemme know!
Did you get your Save The Date? Trudy and I really want you there on our special day!!!
Trudy wants to register for a new couch. This might be a dealbreaker.
Greetings from Cincinnati! You must be thrilled to receive a letter from a member of the hit pop group 98 Degrees, composers of chart-burning songs like “The Hardest Thing” and “I Do (Cherish You).”
I’m writing because I happened to be on the Internet the other day, when I casually came across a search for members of the Facebook group “98 Degrees 4eva & eva” who also hold the rank of Veteran Editor II or higher on Wikipedia. Believe it or not, Alyson, you’re the only such fan of 98 Degrees! What a coincidence that I’m writing to you, of all people, today.
You see, lately I’ve been struggling with the fact that 98 Degrees has a Wikipedia page but I, Justin Jeffre, do not. Isn’t that a shame? I sometimes spend entire nights Wikipedia-ing topics less important than me that still have a page. For example, do you know that there’s a Wikipedia page for “Felching” but not for “Justin Jeffre.” Isn’t that disgusting? What kind of world do we live in? You’d think the writers of Wikipedia would ask themselves: what will people remember in 20 years time? One of the world’s best background pop music harmonizers, or a disgusting sexual act? The answer is clear.
AJ McLean has his own page. JC Chasez too. What do I have to do? Change my name to JJ McJeffz? I know, I know: that’s an amusing thought. Despite my anger and disappointment, I sometimes can’t help but fall back into my winning charm and wicked sense of humor. It’s what made me the wild card of the group. But it’s hard for people to learn about my distinct traits without having a Wikipedia page to reference. No one will ever know about Stinky Pants, my hybrid pug/chihuahua, or my new line of orange-flavored water “JJ’s Clear OJ.”
As you can see, Alyson, the facts exist but a place in which to collect them does not. I’d love it if I could write to each and every fan, just like I’m writing to you, but that’s simply impossible. 98 Degrees continues to grow more popular daily. But given the dearth of Justin Jeffre information available on the web, many of those new fans may simply deduce from the Internet that the 98 Degrees group was solely made up of the Lachey family. And while I love Nick and Drew like second cousins*, I’ll confess that they would have been nothing without the natural balance of Justin Jeffre’s voice. And yet, I’m about to be forgotten: Nick and Drew are talking up a reunion, and my phone hasn’t rang once.
I know that it’s “The Hardest Thing” to ask of you, Alyson, but I was hoping that you might be able to create and maintain a Wikipedia page for me. In fact, I’d be happy to privately send you new facts about my life to make sure that the Justin Jeffre entry is an evergreen source of material. I can even send photos, too, but some will be for your eyes only (wink emoticon). “I Do (Cherish You)” as a fan, and hope you’ll be able to help me out when I need it most.
As a token of my appreciation, I hope you’ll accept the enclosed headshot of Joey Fatone, which I’ve personally signed. Thanks for being a fan. You are “My Everything,” Alyson. Don’t you ever forget it.
“Bye Bye Bye,”**
Sales Team Leader
We’ll Put A Smile On Your Face: Every Customer … Every Vehicle … Every Day.
serving Cincinnati, Hamilton & West Chester Ohio
5676 Dixie Highway, Fairfield, OH 45014
* My new Wikipedia page should note that Nick and Drew Lachey are my cousins four times removed.
** This is an N*Sync song, but I hung out with those guys when they recorded the backing harmonies, so I was technically a part of the group at that time.
Want a glimpse of what’s left in Mad Men? The descriptions for the last 16 episodes contain some juicy spoilers. Read at your own discretion!
Episode 75: “A Tale of Two Cities” — The agency works to keep a client; Joan is caught off-guard.
Episode 76: “Favors” — More Don flashbacks; Ken publishes his first novel.
Episode 77: “The Quality of Mercy” — Don takes the kids to see a ballgame; The Monkees visit the office.
Episode 78: “In Care Of” — Sally attends junior prom; Bob Benson remains normal.
Episode 79: “Castles Made of Sand” — Don buys a new hat; Betty goes to Woodstock.
Episode 80: “Lonesome Farms” — Peggy lands a new account; John Deere claims another limb.
Episode 81: “Aquarius” — Peggy plagiarizes an old ad; Kinsey joins the Manson Family.
Episode 82: “You Only Live Once” — Peggy loses an account; Don tries out for the Yankees.
Episode 83: “The Crock Pots of Mankind” — The office runs out of booze; Roger runs for president.
Episode 84: “Monday, Monday” — Bert gets stuck in an elevator; Don meets Lane’s twin brother.
Episode 85: “Everybody Everywhere” — Don shacks up with a young writer in the Village; Lena Dunham guest stars.
Episode 86: “Mad Women” — Megan joins the cast of Bewitched; Dr. Rapist returns.
Episode 87: “Let It Be” — The agency attends a funeral; Don has a wet dream.
Episode 88: “He Who Marches” — Vietnam; Pete Campbell lands on the moon.
Episode 89: “The Carousel” — Clip show; hosted by Mrs. Blankenship.
Episode 90: “Do Not Stop Believing” — Don falls out a window; Sal never reappears.
We wrote something that’s now live at Funny or Die. Does this mean we can say we worked with Will Ferrell?
by Pete McCormick
Senior, Newbridge High School
I gotta admit: when I made that YouTube video asking Kate Upton to prom, I didn’t think I had a chance in hell. I only asked because Fat Dom said he’d give me his Amazon Kindle Fire HD if she actually said yes. As you probably know, McCohorts, the video went viral and Kate Upton said yes. So I got that Amazon Kindle Fire HD, right? WRONG. Fat Dom’s fat parents called my parents and the whole thing was off. But if you think that’s a travesty, just wait until you hear what it’s like to go on a date with Kate Upton.
Don’t get me wrong: when Kate responded to my video and not only said yes, but offered to cover transportation for me and my crew, I was amped … until she pulled up in a Hummer Limo. A HUMMER LIMO. My family respects the environment, Kate, and you bring the biggest Hummer possible into my driveway? We compost! We drive a Prius! We own An Inconvenient Truth on Blu-ray!
Anyway, I tried to let it go. I was taking the hottest woman in the universe to prom, so why not keep it chill? We slid into the Hum-Lim and headed off to pick up my buddies Jimmy Deegler — most of you know him as Deegs — and the aforementioned Fat D. I’d swiped a classy bottle of el vino from my parents’ “hidden” stash. But as I filled our solo cups to the brim, Kate told me she didn’t want any wine. I insisted, but she shot me down again. This was primo stuff, man: a Yellow Tail Shiraz. At this point, Kate pulled out a small orange bottle and started popping some pills. She said she had a headache. I asked her to save some for me. “Shiraz always goes straight to my head,” I confessed. But Kate told me she had counted the pills, and that I better not touch them. I almost had the driver turn on the heat because things were suddenly ice cold.
Things started warming up when we got Deegs and F-Dom in the H-Lim (a.k.a. The Fat Dom of Limos). I was double fisting my Australian reds while Deegs cracked open a case of Keystone Light. The party was finally kickin’ into gear. But you’ll never guess what happened next: Kate started chugging a beer. My Shiraz hadn’t even properly aerated before Kate grabbed a second Peestone, stabbed it in the side with her house key, and shotgunned the whole thing. My beauty had become a beast.
When we finally got to prom, I started feeling better. My jams, man. Picking me up. Feeling that bass in my feet. I’m on the dance floor, putting in work. Kate wandered off to the bathroom and I got me some ME time. The entire room was hoppin’. And then it went next-level when the DJ blasted that medley of songs from Pitch Perfect. It was just, well, a pitch perfect moment, and I forgot about the disaster that was Kate Upton until she draped herself over my back. She put her wet mouth right in my effin’ ear and started groaning like a dying dog. “Pete, Pete,” she says, “I wanna feed the kitty.” I got a little harsh with her: “Kate, what in the hell does that even mean?” And then she just dove in and tried to get her a sip of Irish whiskey: her lips on my lips. I did what any sane man would have done: I shoved her away. “You disgust me, Kate Upton,” I yelled, loud enough so that she could hear me over the Macklemore cut the DJ had rung up.
I turned and stormed off the dance floor. I was straight FUMING, but fortunately I had the chance to cool off with my Calc teacher, Mrs. Carmine. Boy was she a sight for sore eyes: she’s obviously not my age, but she looked bangin’ in her blush pantsuit. “Mrs. C,” I told her, “I should’ve taken you to prom instead.” We both shared a good laugh about that, but then she dropped some knowledge on me.
“Go have a good time, Pete,” she said. “You don’t want to look back in a decade and regret making a viral video to get a celebrity date to your prom.” And I told her: “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” I looked over her shoulder at the lonely Skyler Jones and something dawned on me: Skyler is totally into me, and she always will be, so I should make sure Kate Upton has a good time tonight, get her home safely, wake up for my interview with the local newspaper, fly out for my Today show appearance on Monday, then eventually date Skyler at some point in the future when I have no better options.
So I turned back to the dancefloor to find Kate. Except now her face was attached to the Fattest of the Doms, Fat Dom. That’s right: my best bud was making out with my celebrity date. I just started weeping right there on the dance floor. JT’s “Suit and Tie” was playing at the time, and is just forever ruined for me. Mrs. Carmine and Skyler both took me out into the lobby and tried to console me, but they were just lone kayaks in my raging river of tears. (Poignant, right?)
I’m sorry I ever asked you to prom, Kate Upton. I hope you get the help you need, and that you get it soon. In the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you could pass along my contact information to Penny from The Big Bang Theory. I need a date for my post-graduation bash. It’s gonna be a pool party.