...In worn out shoes.

As a general rule, I don’t believe in stereotypes or racism. In fact, I think that the whole adherence to those fucked up ideas makes for some of the funniest jokes around. I don’t think it’s funny when someone makes some comment about a black guy liking fried chicken because of the actual content, I think it’s funny because well, really? That’s your thing? Black guys and fried chicken? Huh. Okay, firstly who on this earth DOESN’T like fried chicken? Next, you sound like an imbecile. Right? I mean, I’m not alone on this, am I? This sort of racism is so dumb that it almost pans out to awesome simply because the guy who’s spouting it is making a complete dick of himself just by articulating this kind of thing. Is this overly complex theory for fried chicken/watermelon jokes? Perhaps. BUT, I’m merely bringing this up because I ran, against my will, mind you, face first into a completely accurate stereotype like this last night. I wish I hadn’t and I’d actually love to unlearn it…but alas.
So, a few years ago, my friend Marcus and I were bowling. Jon, a dude we went to gradeschool and highschool with was visiting from NYC and was with us. I was in charge of the score sheet. Being the exceedingly clever dude I am, I wrote our names as various purile curses, such as butt, balls and fart. Let’s, for the sake of easy storytelling, say that those were the three names. I was butt, Marcus was balls and Jon was fart. Well, Jon was terribly offended. I mean, he would NOT be fart on the score sheet. Never mind that we, the only other people around were balls and butt respectively, he wasn’t having it. SO, he attempted to alter said score sheet. I think he wanted to turn ‘fart’ into ‘farther’ for some reason (A vastly worse bowling name, by the way…I’ll be fart any time. Farther? What are you, some kind of prog rock minister? Anyhow…) but once he put the H onto fart, Marcus and I caught on and shit got funny. FARTH!!!!??? You want to be called Farth? Uh…no, I was trying to make it say… Nope! You’re farth now. You could have been fart for ten frames, but you got greedy, and now you’re farth for the rest of your life. And, here’s the best part: it worked. My wife, who I’ve known for almost a decade, thought that Jon’s name was Farth until last year. It’s become so ubiquitous that there’s just no denying it any more. My friend from South America came up to stay with me last year, and he referred to Jon exclusively as Farth while he was here. This from a guy who knew Jon in high school, keeps in closer touch with him than I do, and wasn’t around for the renaming…he STILL calls him farth. It’s funny. We’ll nickname your ass. Watch out.
So, Farth was in my bar last night. He walked in and I’m not shitting you, he looked so much like Joe Jonas that I had a moment of involuntary laughter. Again, so we’re on the same page: Farth looks just like Joe Jonas: leather jacket, sweet scarf, gay hair…you get it. He was killing it. Now, Jon’s a pretty handsome cat, so it maybe can go unnoticed down in south America (where he lives) but let me tell you, upon witnessing him walking into a bar in the first world, man…the whole bar got Jonas fever, and by that I mean they were saying “who’s that didlo who looks like a jonas bro?” Jon’s 32. Not sixteen, thirty two. He looks young, and like I said, he’s good looking, but dude, he dresses like Joe Jonas, and in a cruel twist of fate, he LOOKS like Joe Jonas, so yeah. He’s one of those dudes Who I would, for sure, pretend not to know until it became imperative that I cast my allegiance. Then I’d be like “who, Joe Jonas the second over there? Yeah, I know him. He’s like, one of my oldest friends. He’s been in south America for a while. I’m confident he doesn’t realize how ridiculous he looks. Give him a break.”
So, Jon (Farth, for those of you keeping score at home) is jew. I, for whatever reason am always surrounded by jews. My highschool was pretty much all jews, the guy who puts out my band’s records, he’s a jew, it’s super jewy in my life…and that’s great., I’m pretty down with the jews. They’ve got great drugs for one thing. What else? Yeah. Hmmmm….So, man, jews…What’s their story? What do the hillbillies say about Jews? What’s the illiterate writing on the wall, so to speak? They’re cheap? Well, they’ve come a pretty long way since they killed jesus. I mean, they own Hollywood now, as per my understanding, and I think brave pioneers like Harvey Weinstien have made people realize that jews aren’t just cheap bastards, they’re just regular bastards like the rest of us. Nice work. This however, is where my friend Farth unravels all the hard work that brave jew pioneers have done for jews and their cheapness, or supposed cheapness.
Last night, Farth came into my bar at nine. He left with me at 2 to go get a drink at a four oclock bar. SO, that means he sat, drinking for five hours. I, as one of his oldest friends, charged him five bucks for his night of drinking. Guess what he gave me. Go on. Guess. Did you say a five dollar bill? You’d be right. I mean seriously, How badly are you setting back the ‘jews aren’t cheap’ cause, farth? Five bucks? This is a guy who I’ve been very close friends with for 22 years! I can’t even imagine what he’d do if a bartender wasn’t a lifelong bestie. Oh, five bucks? Well, here’s three. Keep the change. Cheap fuck. The thing is, I tried to shame him in front of the bar after this unacceptable display, and he was unflappable. SO, knowing that he reads the BSC, I’ve decided to take my case here. Hey farth! You cheap fuck. Next time, I’m charging you full price for the negronis AND I’m not gonna tell people to relax when they begin to get angry due to your Jonas Bros doppelganging. Eh,…whatever. I’m kidding a bit. I love that guy. Glad you’re in town, you cheap jew;.