3/24/2006 11:04:00 AM|||Andy|||Like the predicatable tickings of a large, yellow, digital clock, that boops and beeps with every passing second, time was bound to bring along a Hatred. A Hatred like this is unlike other hatred. This Hatred is unique in that it makes others hate as well. Luckily, the hatred created by this Hatred is focused back on itself like so many laser-beams in a fun house, or so many cans of rolled-around soda exploded in the faces of bullies who stole them from nerdy kids brave enough to fight back.
I'm sorry, I apologize for the grotesque imagery, but maybe once I explain what I'm talking about my rage can be understood. It recently came to my attention that someone was bashing Jack Bauer. Now, normally I'd let Jack settle this matter himself, but since JB does everyone a favor every year and works 24 hours around the clock saving America from certain doom, I figured I'd get his back on this one...I'm sure he has a lot going on right now anyway.
Some speculation has arisen about Jack Bauer's existence; that he may or may not be fictional. I'd like to address this point first. The truth is Jack Bauer is more real than any other man to ever have walked the earth including Jesus, Frank Stallone, and What's Happenin's own Fred Berry. He is also certainly more a real influence on peoples' lives than this jerk will ever be.
The critic in question hates hero worship and says it's all about self-esteem...I guess he makes a good point, except his entire blog is about how he can only bag fat chicks, dates emotionally unstable strippers, and is incredibly unhappy with Miami and life in general(yet does nothing about it but have sex with more fat chicks). Not to mention it's basically an online diary. Nice work Sally. The last time Jack Bauer complained was when he was crying at birth after the doctor slapped him. Then he shot the doctor in the leg and went out hunting terrorists.
Even though there really is no need to prove anything for people to know I'm right, for nonsensical humor's sake I've decided to come up with a few scenarios and drop White Dade in them first, then Jack Bauer. Let's see who comes out on top.
Editors notes: When you read the voice of Jack Bauer, you need to imagine his voice as the sound of someone who has been shouting all day at a football game, smoked 15 cigarettes the night before, had a few beers, gotten very little sleep, and eaten 36 bullets washed down with gun oil. White Dade should be imagined as a real dopey, backwoods, baritone, "I'm fascinated by sticks" voice.
Scenario: Grocery Shopping
We find White Dade at a Publix in Miami. They appear to be out of milk...
WD: Oh man, they're out of milk! Shucks! Wellba, I guess I'll just go ask the manager...there he is. Hey buddy, looks like we're out of milk.
Manager: Yeah, we actually just got it in, but it'll be about 25 minutes until the stockboys put it back on the shelves if you don't mind waiting.
WD: Ah gee, I have a date with a fat girl but.... I guess I could wait. My crabs is itchin' real bad though.
Manager: God, why would you tell me that? (The store manager stifles his vomit as he dashes towards the back of the store)
25 Minutes passes...
WD: Finally, milk! Man, that sure sucked. I can't wait to get home to my computer and write about how annoying this was in my online diary. Whooa--!
WD trips, falls, and bursts his carton of milk everywhere. He tries to stand up but keeps slipping. He makes one last go of it and nearly makes it, but his feet shoot out in front of him and he does a headplant onto the tile of the supermarket floor, splitting his head open and instantly killing him.
Now let's see how Jack Bauer does...
We find Jack at a Trader Joe's in Los Angeles, they appear to be out of milk...
JB: Excuse me, sir. Where is the milk?
Man: I don't work he-- (BANG!)
JB: I didn't ask if you worked here. I asked where the milk was. Where is it?
Man: I - I don'--
JB: If you say I don't know, I am going to make this as painful as possible. Where is the milk!!
Man: I SAW THEM PULL THE TRUCK UP WHEN I WAS COMING IN THE STORE! IT SHOULD BE IN THE STORE SOON!
JB: How long?
Man: 25 minutes?
JB: That's not fast enough. (Jack coshes the man with the butt of his gun rendering him unconcious and rushes out back. There he spots two store clerks lazing about, smoking cigarettes.)
JB: Freeze! CTU! (the cronies stare at Jack like deer in headlights) Step away from the truck! Do not attempt to fle-- (one of the stockboys, terrified and confused at why a gun would be pulled on him for delivering milk, takes off. Jack quickly shoots him twice the leg. He falls to the ground grasping his injured leg and cries out in pain. Jack closes in on the truck. He grabs a carton of milk, keeps his gun aimed at the remaining stockboy's forehead, and slowly backs to his car. He peels out and speeds off.)
Situation 2:
We find White Dade at a bar...
Fat Girl: Hey dreamboat, you're HOT.
White Dade: I know. So are you.
Fat Girl: Thanks! Wanna makeout in public?
White Dade: Sure.
(They leave and do it. Gross. On the drive home, White Dade is hit by a car and dies painfully.)
We find Jack Bauer at a bar...
Fat Girl: Hey dreamboat, you're HOT!
Jack Bauer: ...
Fat Girl: Did you hear me? I said you're hot!
Jack Bauer: ...
Fat Girl: What? Are you not ta-
(Jack gets up and walks to another area of the bar.)
Hot Girl: Hello, you smell great, is that your aftershave?
JB: That's probably the kerosene I used to rinse my mouth out this morning. Or it could be the patriotism oozing out of me. I'm not sure which. Maybe it's a mix, who knows.
Hot Girl: oh wow, your voice sounds gravelly, you don't smoke do you?
JB: No. I yell at terrorists and non-compliers a lot. I also ate some barbed wire with my cereal this morning.
Hot Girl: Do you want to go somewhere an-
JB: Yes. Question, do you have a shower?
Hot Girl: Yeah, why?
JB: Because after I bang your brains out I'm going to need get back to CTU immediately, and I still have some blood of people I've shot throughout the course of the day on me. Does your shower go over one thousand degrees?
Hot Girl: God no! That'd kill you.
JB: Is it supposed to? I never noticed. Oh well, a cold shower is better than no shower. Let's go.
(They leave and do it. Awesome. On the way home Jack kills several terrorists.)
Situation 3:
This one is a bit different. It includes both characters.
We find White Dade in a section of the Miami Airport. Jack Bauer is in the ventilation system because he knew terrorists would be taking over this wing of the airport.
White Dade: Buuh, I can't remember what flight I'm supposed to be on. Maybe I'll ask this lady at the desk (White Dade walks to the nearest garbage can and begins asking it questions. Terrorists then charge into the terminal).
Terrorist 1: INFIDELS! We are now in control of this section of the airport! Follow directions and you will not be harmed...as long as your President complies to our demands!
WD: Uh oh! (he runs and screams like a woman and trips right into one of the terrorists. The terrorist grabs him, puts a gun to his head, and asks him how much faith he has in his government). Whatever! I have faith in myself. I am awesome! Do you know how many fat girls I've had sex with? A lot. Any second now I'm going to do a sweet move to get out of this. (he struggles vainly and is unable to improve his situation).
Terrorist 2: Apparently your move was peeing, and then pooping, in your pants.
(Meanwhile, Jack has already disabled the perimeter terrorists. 5 Terrorists remain. As he's sneaks up and puts the sleeper hold on one of the remaining terrorists, Terrorist 1 attends to his phone as it rings...)
Terrorist 1: Understood. Terrorist allies! Apparently there is an agent in the airport named -
Jack Bauer: Jack. Fucking. Bauer.
(Terrorists 3 and 4 turn to open fire on Jack but he's two fast. They each have two bullets in their heads and quickly drop to the ground. Terrorist 1 grabs a hostage and he and Terrorist 2 face Jack.)
Terrorist 1 (holding a woman): Well Jack, it appears we have a standoff. Perhaps your president will comply with our wishes.
Jack: I don't think he's going to have to.
Terrorist 2: Please! We know you wouldn't risk human life! We have two hostages!
Jack: Let the woman go, you'll still have a hostage be able to negotiate.
(Terrorist 1 let's his hostage go, she hits the deck with the remaining people in the terminal)
Terrorist 1: There, I've done as you said. Now, let's begin our nego-
(Jack quickly shoots White Dade and both Terrorists in the head).
Jack: Everyone, the terrorist threat has been eliminated.
Citizen 1: But you shot that gu-(BANG!) Shit my leg! Damnit! Ouch (he makes a sound like sucking in the letters "sh").
Jack: You're welcome.
(Jack tosses his gun to a nearby child who brandishes it and grins. Jack then jogs down to the end of the terminal, leaps from one of those collapsable tunnels to the tarmac, runs to the nearest helicopter, coshes the pilot, and takes off.)
In every situation above, what happened? Jack Bauer prevailed, and White Dade died. Jack can and will do anything. He doesn't care what you think. And instilling people with they idea that they can do anything is pretty damn cool...a lot cooler than instilling them with mental images of banging fat chicks and doing cocaine.
So who has higher self-esteem and can reach a more massive audience? A guy who can who save the world, or a guy who bangs fat chicks because it's "funny,"wins a belt from his friends and then writes about it in his online diary? I mean really, a belt? I hope it has enough sparkles and rainbows on it to console you when you reflect on your life and what a waste of oxygen its been.
|||114322121416781583|||Jack. Fucking. Bauer.3/27/2006 06:16:00 PM||| White Dade|||Cute. Very, very cute. Perhaps if you could pull Jack Bauer's cock out of your mouth for five minutes you would realize a couple of facutal inaccuracies..
1) I don't drink milk
2) I don't go on dates with fat girls. THAT would be pathetic
3) I am an airport know-it-all to a point that my friends refuse to fly with me.
4) I SPENT SIX FGUCKING YEARS IN THE MARINE CORPS, ASSHOLE! HOW MANY DID YOU SPEND? DON'T YOU EVER QUESTION MY FUCKING PATRIOTISM AGAIN.
I do like Penn State, though.
Good day sir.3/27/2006 07:07:00 PM||| Andy|||I guess I should post a reply here, even though I already left one on his blog. But its good to clear things up for the readers -
1) Milk is good for you.
2) I didn't say he dated fat girls.
3) That's kind of sad, but really sort of irrelevant.
4) Zero. I never questioned your patriotism.
I like Penn State too.
Readers please understand I read WD's blog and while I don't always agree with it, it's still pretty entertaining. And he hates Miami, which is great.3/27/2006 07:33:00 PM||| White Dade|||I'm a little high strung. Don't know if oyu noticed.3/28/2006 01:56:00 AM||| |||Well, you are actually wrong about another thing...I don't believe WD hates Miami...like anyone that lives anywhere, you bitch about stupid things that annoy you....however, if he hated it so much, why would he live here for 5 years, move away, and then with ALL the city choices in the country move back? Probably not cause he hates it, but maybe because it's still a cooler city then ANYWHERE in Pennsylvania...3/28/2006 08:57:00 AM||| Andy|||Wow, Miami is NOT cooler than anyplace. Especially PA, cause in PA you're never more than 3-4 hours from Beaver Stadium and Penn State. (Joe Paterno and hot girls).
In Miami you only get close to a honorable football when Penn State comes to the orange bowl.
At any rate I don't even live in PA. I live in New York City.3/30/2006 08:43:00 PM||| |||Damn, WD got his ass kicked. Hilarious post Andy. Reminds of days back in Alistair's basement with you adding voices to the characters from some late 90's movie.
My question however is "who is white dade?". Would I be able to pick him out of a police line-up from andy and erik's descriptions? If so, i would guess he is physically weak from not drinking milk, a bit fat himself considering his willing association with fat chicks, a "say a lot, do nothing" type of guy. Note: this is why he hates JB who is the exact opposite. Oh, and he would probably be wearing a 2006 penn state orange bowl sweater that he picked up when the bandwagon made its way through his town. "Get on, there is a little more room in the back"