25 Answers to Jeff’s 25 Make-Believe Questions

Portrait of Amy Sedaris by Jeff Eggebeen that sits framed in our window sill:
jeff-eggebeen-0016

My roommate’s college-age brother, Jeff, is a goofy, awesome guy who’s way into drawing Manga and loves Amy Sedaris. Last night he sent me this stupid message through Facebook called “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. lol.” Oh, holy jesus. He wants me to not only create 25 answers prompted by make-believe questions, but he requests I forward this retarded homework assignment to 25 friends. Are you fucking kidding me? I haven’t thought about chain-letters since I broke up in fifth-grade with my one-armed, Taiwanese pen pal because I called him out on “living in a palace wallpapered in sugar-cane stalks”. Okay, I made that up but still.

Begin Facebook message: “Jeff this is so fucking dumb. But I like you so how about I drown myself in Coors and punch out your answers. I make fun of your brother in places. Don’t post this shit anywhere, OK?

1.) I recently quit smoking.

2.) I recently started dipping.

3.) I started dipping because I was getting worried about my cat’s second-hand smoke intake.

4.) When I go to the bathroom, I pull my gold chain outside my t-shirt.

5.) I’m terrified every time I come home that my cat will have fresh shit in his fur and I will have to bathe him.

6.) I don’t have cell phone service because I’m too much of a pussy to tell my cell phone company they’ve over-charged me by two hundred dollars and that I’m not paying it.

7.) I’m relieved I don’t have a cell phone because that means that one pesky collector calling about $70 from a San Francisco PG&E bill can’t reach me.

8.) I’m bummed because somehow my credit card company figured out the phone number of a co-worker, who sits right next to me. I automatically have them take money out of my account every month, so I don’t know why they’re calling (nor do I know how the fuck they know I sit within a foot of Brendan’s phone). Again, I’m too much of a pussy to find out why.

9.) I’m pissed off at a friend because we have a ton in common, but we don’t agree at all on street skating. This means I continue to skate alone on my lunch breaks from work.

10.) My gastronomic cycle dictates I exclusively shit at work. There is one bathrooom (it has about 500 shits-worth of magazines) that I find particularly soothing (and a book  of matches, too, so you don’t feel like you denonated anthrax when you go back to your desk.)

11.) Something else that soothes me is talking about favorite colors. Mine are Kelly Green, Denim Blue (dark wash) or Blaze Orange. These are in no particular order.

12.) I find myself needlessly justifying to my good friend and roommate, Greg, my genuine appreciation of his genuine appreciation of intentionally over-wrought 90s television programming, such as “Twin Peaks.” “That’s the point though! It’s a statement on our location within television culture. Duh!” Groan.

13.) I live in a neighborhood I actually like, but to afford to live in a neighborhood I actually like, I work long-hours outside my neighborhood. Because there are no good bars in my neighborhood (yet), on the weekends I find myself in the neighborhood of my workplace.

iowa-city-029

 14.) Like every white person I know (except Wolf) I have my own unique  and special blend of white guilt, sure, fine. Apparently, though, non- whites can read this shit all across my face because last night I went to the  store and a pasty-faced drug dealer (“people come to me and I have their crack!”) anoited me white people ambassador to the  bodega before cornering me in a race debate. Here’s how I held it down for white people (except Wolf):

 “Bla bla bla fucking white people got me down!”

 All non-white people–which is everybody–stare at me.

 “Dude, you’re pretty white yourself.”

 “I’m Dominican!”

 “Yeah, but you’ve got green eyes, dude. That’s pretty white!”

 “…”

 [laughter.]

 Pasty Dominican: 0 White People: 1,374,805,312,786.

15.) Dude, I’m white as shit and I speak Mexican Spanish with a thick white accent. I talk to my Chilean friend in Spanish so much mutual friends think we’re secretly gay together. That said, at my bodega I always order my rice and beans in clear and articulated English.

16.) I have very little contact with my ex-girlfriend, yet because she gifted me my housecat (Noël Catward), we have a kitty-custody thing worked out where whenever I leave town for work she gets quality time with my cat and (consequently due to his being a housecat), my apartment as well.

17.) Greg, my good friend and roommate, and I correct ourselves when we say “my apartment”. It is, of course, “an apartment we share.”

18.) Gag me.

19.) I miss my former place of residency, San Francisco, even though I have no future in that town and I have little more than memories of depressing retail jobs, great skateboarding, black-out nights on 16th Street, and consequentially late rent. I guess SF is like a happy, unambitious hippie chick who always wears summer dresses with no panties and likes to seduce you with alcohol and cheerful fucking and makes you forget about your goals.

20.) Last year I moved to a city that has deluded notions of making it as a model. This place is very turned on by jobs and status but rarely puts out because of its perpetual coke hang-over.

21.) Um,I wear the same pair of jeans for weeks on end.

22.) Uh, I love popping the pimples I find on my scalp.

23.) Jesus, two more to go.

24.) It’s 6:53 in the morning and I have no idea why I woke up this early.

25.) …Yey! I did it!

January 29 at 2:16am
LOL. Thank you for typing such thought out answers. You could have just said single sentence stuff, i.e. “I like game shows”, or whatever.                             

OF COURSE THIS IS DUMB!!! But yeah I was tagged before in a note like these and I felt I needed to respond to the girl cause she’s my frined and she’s cool. Thanks though!

XXDD

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