I must confess, at this point I’m feeling more than a little exploited. How am I supposed to make fun, wacky observations about life and stuff if I’m constantly chained to my word processor and not experiencing life? Maybe everyone thinks Jean Teasdale is just some cash cow they can milk, but you don’t see me mooing along in agreement! I would never, ever think to put this kind of pressure on anyone else—why are they demanding the world of me?
Sure, I suppose they expect me to be grateful that they trusted me to produce a book. But have they ever tried to walk in my fuzzy slippers? You may think it’s all gumdrops and peppermints being Jean Teasdale, but think again. In actuality, as I go about my daily life, I put up with a lot of jealousy from others. That’s right, jealousy! There’s more than one grouch in this world who envies my sunny, funny, happy-go-lucky demeanor and immediately has to try to pounce on it and rip it to shreds!
Need proof? Last week, when I was taking a break from writing to go grocery shopping, a woman sidled up to me in the Pamida parking lot and said “Still wearing your P.J.s, huh?” then casually strolled away. I was so taken aback that I stopped dead in my tracks and couldn’t respond. What left me speechless was not the fact that she mystifyingly mistook for a pajama outfit what were obviously a pair of fresh-from-the-dryer pink velour sweatpants, a yellow cotton top silk-screened with a basket of sleeping kittens, and my comfiest wool clogs. Instead, she actually thought she had the right to go up to a total stranger and make a negative remark about her appearance. I mean, who does that? I can only chalk up such behavior to the green-eyed monster. Tear someone down by distorting her most winning qualities as things to be ridiculed. I’m convinced that this explains why I’ve never gotten far in my career. I try so hard to please, only to hear at my six-month evaluation that my work performance is sloppy and I pester the other employees, so I’d better shape up or ship out. I know I’m in the right in these situations, but this constant stubborn resistance can really wear you down.
At heart, I’m just a simple person who needs her leisure. After a long four hours at my current job at the indoor flea market, I just want to come home to two cats that love me, a Polarfleece afghan that’s calling my name, a DVR full of that day’s soaps, and Fabio in an apron taking a chocolate soufflé out of the oven. Okay, maybe that last one is a bit of a stretch. I’d gladly accept Mark Harmon! Kidding! But seriously, if baby doesn’t get some quality time, baby gets cranky, and that’s when baby digs in her heels!
Of course I know my editor keeps leaving increasingly desperate messages on my voicemail. Of course I can hear Hubby Rick yelling at me. I’m not ignoring them—I’m acknowledging them. At least, I’m acknowledging them silently. I’m just not letting them get to me. They want an overworked Jean Teasdale on the verge of mental and physical collapse. See, that’s what the normal, dreary, everyday world demands of everyone, to work until they drop. But I refuse to buy into this mindlessness. It’s vital to stop and smell the roses. Or in my case, the empty Twizzler bag (which has traces of a lovely strawberry scent).
Yet, in a very profound way, Jeanketeers, my self-pity party symbolizes the triumph of the human spirit. I am not letting the weight of this book crush me! Instead, I am just shrugging it off and letting go. Isn’t that the most beautiful, soothing, and downright liberating thing you’ve ever heard? After all, don’t the know-it-alls on morning TV tell us that recognizing your limitations is healthy?
Today marks the birth of a whole new Jean Teasdale! A Jean who no longer tries to do it all and be everything to everyone! A Jean who acknowledges, hey, maybe I just wasn’t meant to be an author, and you know what? That’s totally, one hundred percent okay! I feel great! Why didn’t I have this epiphany sooner?
Well, world, I am hereby spreading my limited wings and proclaiming my limitations. My name is Jean Teasdale, and I am limited. Hear me, world? I am limited! I am limited!
I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited!
I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited!
I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited!
I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited!
I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited!
I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited!
I am limited! I am
limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited!
I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited! I am limited!…
[Editor’s Note: This chapter, which was received in longhand on ruled notebook paper, continues on in this manner for eight more pages.]
Hubby Rick to the Rescue
Knew Id have to bail the broad out in some way.
I dont write, hate writing, hate readng. writting & books for winers. winers like Jean. WRITING=GAY but I have to write this book now cuz shes hours away from her whatever, due time. and shes locked in the bedroom and says shes all done 7& tired out 7& the world can suck a fart. Shit if she said this before she got 6his book job I would of rispected that, But now shes in a fix cuz she bit off more 5han she can chew. & wer’e getting calls from some b0ok guy and this screchy bitch Judeth from the0nnion saying send th6 rest of the chaptars she owes us. Guess theyneeded them days ago. shit how familar. these suckers didnt no what they were geting into. and Jean does she want her stuped cats to die or somthing. Cuz they been screming for food 7& no way am I tking care of the litle fartbags. Shit yu not 1 farts like a fertalizer factory. I got the rest of thisbook thing to write. And I cant even typ3
0K homos, where were we. Where did Jena leve off. seeing somthing here in a notebook, a bunch of prov3rbs……….. Oh hell no Im not typeing down this lame shit. Heres some provrbs of mine. all you need to know. same shit diffrent day. Lifes a bitch 7& then you die. if your waiting forsomething meningfull to come out of awoman and y0ur looking at her mouth your looking at the wrong end.--That last one is for the Judth broad at The onon.
Seeing some ricepes too. christ That gross choclate stuff she makes. 0K so heres a recpe. Take two fat shits, & see if any one cares. oh you wanted a real r3cipe. my mistake fags. 0K Take some brats 8& boil them in beer Then take some saltene crackrs and butter them. There you g0. Dinner. that was hard.
Cat diary—Jesus Crist 0K heres a cat diry. cat sleept all day, ate and shat in abox. Repeat a million times. The End.
And stop caling me Hubby Rick dipshits. Its just Rick or Teasdale no hubby. If you want your ass laid 0ut with a tireiron keep saying Hubby Rick Huby RicK
&&^%8473fgeela Fuckfuckfuck this typeing shit. FUCK SENTENCES Im thru Im talk into a tape recrder & some looser with no life can take it all down
[Tape begins]
Okay, so I finally found the damn tape recorder and I’m recording or whatever now. So yeah, Jean dropped the ball big-time, no big surprise. She never finishes nothing. Now she’s all mopey poor-little-me. I mean, she must come out to take a dump once in a while, but I ain’t catched her yet. I ain’t seen her for days, ’cause I gotta go out and work a job, you know, a real job? The kind you spend nine hours working your ass off at and get shitfaced afterwards? Anyhow. Bedroom blinds are closed and the windows are shut so I bet it’s getting pretty ripe in there. Shit, even talking into a tape recorder is gay. It’s like I’m talking to myself like a crazy. Jean better appreciate what I’m doing for her, do you hear me Jean? I’m saving your damn book! I better get a big cut! Especially since you’re eating my football snacks! Seriously, what the hell? They’re all missing from the kitchen cabinet! Dammit, Jean, I told you stay away from my snacks!
[Rustling sounds, unintelligible speaking]
Okay, well, she already ate some of my snacks. This isn’t the first time Jean has pulled crap like this. Once we were watching CNN and she saw herself on screen and got all “Boo hoo hoo, poor me.” I guess some camera guys were taking shots of fat-asses at the mall and they shot Jean and it wound up on the news. Only shots from the neck down, you didn’t see the faces. Still I could pick her out right away. She was wearing this pink crap with a Minnie Mouse on it. No mistaking it.
Well, I wanted to make her feel better, so I laughed. It was pretty funny. I mean, she is a fat-ass. And it’s not like they showed her face. Only her and me knew who it really was. It was really no big deal. But after I laughed she stopped moaning and stared at me with this weird look on her face. Then she got up from the couch and walked real slow to the bedroom. I thought maybe she was feeling better and wanted to fool around or something. So I get up and follow her and I try to put my arm around her, but she shoves it away, and slams the door and locks me out. I’m telling you, I didn’t see the inside of that bedroom for four straight days. She only came out when I threatened to give the cats to science. I should try that again. The woman’s a wack job. I should take the doorknob out of the door so she can’t lock the door no more. And padlock the snacks.
Maybe I handled the TV thing wrong. Maybe I should of said something nice after I laughed. But how the hell am I supposed to know what she’s thinking. Jesus, women! I mean, if you’re fat, face the truth. If you ain’t gonna do anything about it, own it. Take some damn responsibility. I’m fat, and I’m gonna stay that way, cause ain’t no way I’m gonna eat hippie rabbit food ever. I don’t give a two-handed fuck what anyone thinks about me. I been called all the names in the book: fat, fatso, asshole, dumbass, shithead, piece of shit, shit-for-brains, shitpile, shitstain, shitbag, shitlicker, shitfucker, shitdropper, shitadmiral, whatever. What mattered is that I pissed someone off, and it felt real, real good. Whatever someone thinks of you, good or bad, is their own goddamn problem.
What else. Yeah, Jean’s weird. Aw hell, I’ll never get that broad. She was always off-the-wall, even in high school. She’d go around in, like, Mork suspenders, years after it went off the air. No one did that any more, not even those boat people kids who came to our school after being kicked out of Chong Chop Chang or whatever and always wore out-of-style shit. I used to hang out with her older brother Kevin all the time and even he said she was a few bricks shy of a load, and this was a guy who used to light his farts in broad daylight to impress chicks. He drove with his knees. Still can’t believe he got Jesus, man. I started hanging out with Jean not ’cause I wanted to, but ’cause I was best buds with Kevin. And you know, underneath those huge glasses and weirdo pigtails and stupid watermelon lip gloss she was always smearing on, she wasn’t all that bad-looking. Back then she weighed 100 pounds less, even though she was still kind of chunky. But I couldn’t help liking her, you know? For one thing, she didn’t go around acting like she had a cinder block pounded up her ass like most of the chicks at school. She was always smiling and shit. That could make you feel good sometimes.
At first, I thought she would be easy, because she was starving for attention. And you know how girls are about first boyfriends, especially the hardcases who don’t normally get dates. But turned out I had to bide my time a little.
[Belches]
Not cause she was a bitch though. She just didn’t want anyone busting her hole right away. But I like
d that. It meant we could just hang out and go to a movie or the batting cages or whatever with no pressure. Even though I really wanted to get laid, it was kind of a relief at the same time. It was like she was classy. Well, classy isn’t the right word. A virgin. Yeah, that’s it. And when we did finally do it, she was a crier. Normally that would have had me heading for the nearest state line, but for some reason it was kind of sweet. She still cries by the way. Now it’s weird.
Can’t tell you how many times I wished our parents never caught us in my pickup at the Jewel parking lot and made us get hitched. Then I think about what Jean’s got other than me: a bitch-on-wheels for a mom, a Christ-bitten killjoy of a brother, a stuck-up stepsister who never calls, and a lunatic dad who dresses up like Santa. Plus a couple of cats who just stare at her. Her only friend is this flaky homo who gave her this stupid flea market job that pays shit. The broad has so many strikes against her—who the hell else is going to look after her?
If you Jeanketeers, if there even is such a thing, believe any of that crap Jean probably tells you about me not supporting her, then you’re bigger losers than I thought. While Jean sits around and mopes and thinks about herself and loses jobs and pretends her cats like her and writes it all down in her stupid column, I work and pay the bills and make it possible for her to dick around. Whatever. It’s her damn thing, I leave her to it. I don’t pretend to understand or care about it. But I wouldn’t take it away from her because it means a lot to her, even if she’s crapping out on it right now.
The Onion Presents a Book of Jean's Own! Page 12