Some Other Sucker's Parade: You Never Know When You Need A Rifle

Let's play a game. It's called HAVE THE ADDICT DRIVE AROUND THE COMIC.

It's a great game. It's survival-based and can be played in almost any city that has a comedy club or a performance venue. I played a few times recently.

Last week in Texas I was picked up at the airport by a Meth user. He didn't have fingers because he sold them to his friend for more drugs. True story.

He went by the name Freddie Fingers and was waiting for me at the Odessa Midland airport. He had a sign in his teeth that read: "Jay Kris Newman." I assumed that it was me and luckily I was correct.


He was over average height and slender build, but what I noticed right away is that he was sweating like there was a tiny microwave in his pants. I mean, flop sweats. A Smurf could have showered underneath his river of death. A tiny drought-oriented village could have connected a hose to his forehead and ceased all of their prayers for rain.

I shook his palm and he grabbed my guitar and took off in a sprinter's stride towards the car. He couldn't be stealing my instrument because he had a sign. Judging by the correct spelling of the sign, I knew I was already respected in this town, so I just walked slightly faster, but not too concerned.

We were in the truck and he immediately asked if I needed a rifle. I explained that I was going to the Holiday Inn and I thought that I would be okay. He laughed a maniacal shriek and I immediately reconsidered, but stayed quiet.

"You should be fine. You're right next to the car dealers and not much goes on there. I was just trying to get rid of one for some extra loot."

Yes, he said loot.

Now I went out with a girl that used to use Meth and although we only went out once, I will NEVER forget her twitches and her horrible smell. It was the scent of takeover. Some demon had gotten inside her brain and began to pillage her cells and set fires to her skin and teeth. Sad really, but nonetheless unforgettable. Mr. Fingers had her same fragrance.

"Do you smoke pot?" I asked.

"Oh no, I don't touch that shit," he said at a speed that would rival an advancing cheetah.

"How about meth?" I continued.

"Can't lie to ya, hit the pipe twice just before I picked you up."

Perhaps I do need a rifle. I asked if the owner knew of his intake decisions and he said that's who he bought from.

I definitely will need a rifle.

The rest of the weekend went off without a hitch, but it has stayed with me. In fact, this past weekend I was in Miami and I was picked up at the airport by Count Drunkulah. He literally had a Scotch in his lap. I opted to get out of the vehicle and take a cab and I heard from the club later that day that he had fallen asleep and hit a tree and they wanted to make sure that I wasn't in the car with him at the time.

Really? Yes, I was in the car and as soon as it hit the tree I got my stuff and walked 21 miles to the hotel. Don't be silly.

So, let that be a lesson to you, if your dog is going to have unprotected sex and argue with you over fantasy football, then they are probably not going to college.

I love monkeys and Rifles
and the fact that Miley Cyrus is 15
and people are showing sassy naked pics of her on line
She's 15
That's child porn
Why do stars flip the bird to the world
when in fact the best revenge on these fools
who are so tortured with fame is to boycott them
for about a year. stop taking pics of them
going to their movies
that will never happen, but it really could
they are only famous because we allow that
let's have a Hollywood mutiny
You bring the pudding and I'll bring
the cattle prod

haters

j cn

J Chris Newberg is a comic, actor, producer, song writer, and author living in Los Angeles and occasionally Detroit with his loyal and aging Cocker Spaniel, Flower. He has recently written about his run-in with Richie Sambora and vampire romance. You can find him at jchrisnewberg.com, myspace.com/jchrisnewberg, or just google him because you know you want to. His column runs every other Tuesday.