my overwhelming presence in cyberspace (I'm up to three hits a day!), Jane D'oh
found me and offered an account of her past year. Jane is a young college student
(she was a little vague on which college) in New York City and was recently
convicted of stalking and kidnaping. Her target? Our one and only Jon Stewart.
She contacted me several months after she was sentenced to 30 days in jail,
300 hours of community service, and a protective order preventing her from coming
within 500 feet of Jon.
So it turns out it's illegal to tie Jon Stewart to your piano and cover his naked body with buttercream frosting. I had to find this out the hard way.
Not that I actually ever smeared frosting on Jon -- which is what really throws me. I mean, I only intended to tie him to my piano and smear him with frosting. I never actually did it. The New York Police Department is pretty pissy. And they clamp on the cuffs too tightly in my opinion, but I'll get to that later.
It all started a year ago, last January, 1999. This new Jewish guy was supposed to start hosting The Daily Show after that blond Viking guy left to go annoy people on some old people network somewhere. You really can't trust Vikings, but since Hollywood is full of 'em, you do what you can, right? By the way, I really resent you calling me a gook on the phone. Or did you call me a kook? I can' t remember. You should be really careful, Annie. You might offend someone. I notice you "claim" you're Korean in Amble 1. Good idea -- the minorities are really popular these days -- might as well cash in. I mean, no one actually sees you on the Internet, right? And Korea? What a hoot! I've never even heard of that one! Is that one of them injun tribes somewhere?
Anyway, we all know Jewish guys have lots of money and run the banks, so I figured I'd give this new guy a shot. I thought he'd give some stock tips and give us a heads up on when interest rates might go up. But as it turns out, he wasn't any better at money advice than blondie was, and he seemed to get the news wrong all the time too. I don't know how these newscasts stay on the air.
But this guy, ooh. He had these smoldering green eyes, and he kept smiling at me. My daddy used to tell me that our TV was full of fairies, which I thought was neat. I know they're in there, magically putting the pictures on the screen, giving me a connection to the people they're showing. I could never understand why my dad hated them so much, but I think they're swell. Sometimes I tap on the glass and shout, "Hey fairies! Tell Dan Rather he's hot! Go ahead! Tell him now!" Since they're invisible, I never actually see them do it, but I know they have at least a couple times because Dan has mentioned me personally. He usually says "Fonda" right after he says my name, which I don't understand, but I figure it's some kind of code. Like, "Jane baby, am I fond 'a you!" I hope the fairies fill me in on that one some day.
This new guy though, he knocked Dan out of the water. I drooled every time he came on. He had these flecks of gray at his temples, and I love that. It's sooooo sexy wexy. And those eyes! Hoo wee!
Anyway, I decided to take action. That's the kind of gal I am. I don't just sit around and moan about stuff, I get up, make some homemade buttercream frosting, and get ready to frost, you know? So I looked him up on every telephone directory site on the Internet and started calling. It didn't go too well. Here are my diary entries on that day (and believe you me, it was hell borrowing it back from the evidence locker at the NYPD):
And so on. After a few hours, I realized that the phone was taking too long, and that maybe -- just maybe -- these Jons weren't the same Jon I was looking for. But I figured since I was starting at New York University in February, I would just find him then.
[Editor's Note: When I spoke with Jane again to follow up on this letter, I asked about her enrollment at NYU. She stated "New York University? I thought I said New York College. Whatever -- it was in New York, on . . . New . . . York Street." When I questioned her on why she was starting school in February when the academic semester began in January, she said, "You freakin' Koreans think you're soooo good at math. Well you're not! You're not! Go back to Koreana, you freakin' Korean!" I then asked her what her major was, and she replied, "Butter whipping, you Koreanapolis freak." I chose, at this point, to move to a different topic.]
So I moved into the dorm after I packed my Kitchen Aid mixer (green to match Jon's eyes) and sold my TV. I was going to need the money for handcuffs, butter, and sugar. I would need electricity too, but I figured I could work on that problem later. I found a great first-floor dorm room by Central Park, where I could see the whole park. It was great. Lots of trees.
[Editor's Note: I asked Jane why NYU's dorm was near Central Park when NYU was located in midtown, and she said, "I was as at the other NYU." I then asked how she could see the whole park from the first floor in light of its vast size and the high wall that surrounded much of it, and she said, "I meant the other Central Park." I chose, at this point, to move to a different topic.]
It took me a couple days to find out where Jon worked. I kept looking up "The Daily Show" in the phone book at the pay phone on the corner, but I couldn't even find "The" in the book. I couldn't figure out the problem, especially since the phone book said "QUEENS" on it, and I know that queens are just as helpful as fairies because my daddy told me they were both on TV. I started wandering around with the phone book, pointing at it and asking people if they knew where the magical TV queens lived, but they usually walked away really fast. Selfish bastards. Nowadays, people just don't wanna share their queens. There was once a time when people used to share things, you know?
[Editor's Note: At this point, the letter went into great detail about the magical queens and the deterioration of society in general. My questions as to how she actually managed to find Jon were never answered. The following is an excerpt from the court transcript. I insert this here to help clarify things.]
[The following is Mr. Stewart's account of the incident. This testimony preceded that of Jane's. I insert this here to clarify Jane's vague description.]
Anyway, there's a point where the butter reaches this light consistency. It gets all frothy, sort of, you know? That's when you start adding the sugar. Once the sugar was in, I was ready to get Jon's clothes off. He looked really excited, but I never actually got to that point because the police stopped by to talk to Jon for a while. I figured Jon hadn't been paying his parking tickets or something, but no! It turns out they wanted me! Me! Jane D'oh! Friend of the fairy queens! I was so mortified.
As it turns out, it's illegal to tie Jon Stewart to your piano and smear buttercream frosting all over his naked body! Why won't the government get off our backs?! This is a free country! Maybe in Russia you can't smear frosting all over Jon Stewart, but here in the good old US of A, I demand my rights! Bloody communists.
So there was some sort of trial, and I had to go this jail. I kept asking for fairy queens, but everyone told me they weren't there, that I was in the wrong place. Just great.
Anyway, it's been a little while now, and I hope Jon has gotten over my dumping him. There's this other guy I've got my eye on. His name is Russell Crowe. He's a gladiator! I think we got married a few months ago. Yes, yes, yes . . . I'm sure we did. I'll have to move to Australia to be with him soon. I think I'll transfer to Australia University. I'll let you know how things go with him. He's a hottie, and he knows how to handle a sword, if you get my drift.
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