JamieKennedy.net - April 6, 2008

I used to go out with a standup comic. Let's call her Pelair... because that was her name. She had fiery red hair, big boobs, a big ass, and her own hair salon, called Pelair Hair. She asked me over to her house for dinner one night after she saw me on stage. I needed a free dinner more than Jamie Lynn needed a diaphragm, so I agreed.

Most of the dinner was uneventful, the usual chit chat and get to know you stuff. I'll rephrase that: she blabbered on and on about her hopes and ambitions and Hollywood and hair and famous people she coiffed and I nodded and wolfed down the food like a Zombie at a Mensa convention. Truth be told, 'food' is a very loose interpretation of what she served me. It looked like she scooped up a bunch of weeds and threw them on a plate. I spent most of dinner ignoring her dreams and looking for anything to give my meal some flavor - dressing, oil, Hershey's syrup. Finally, near the end, I got sick of feeling like a rabbit so I asked her if she had some hot sauce or something.

Suddenly she got distraught and said, "Nothing but goodness and wholeness enters my body." She smiled broadly and shoved a forkful of alfalfa sprout into her face.

"Really? Because the other day, I had a piece of a hot dog." I said.

"I consider anyone who eats meat, evil," she said. "Jamie, do me a favor... don't be evil."

".....Okay."

After I helped her clear the table (hey, I'm a gentleman), I walked around her apartment and snooped through her stuff while she washed the dishes (hey, I'm a Man!). There were angels everywhere. I mean everywhere. If there was a flat surface in the apartment, an angel knick-knack was chillin on it. Bobble headed cherubs shook their heads "no" vehemently whenever I walked by.

A normal person doesn't do this, I was thinking. As I continued looking around, I came across a huge headshot of her in the living room, and then more pictures of her all over the place I went into the bathroom, took a seat on the toilet, looked up, and fucking freaked out again - there was literally a life-sized poster of her directly across from the toilet, I guess as a focal point for anyone having a fecal matter.

A well-adjusted human being doesn't have pictures of themselves everywhere. I mean how do you wake up every day and say, "Hi me. Me. Me. I love me." And then to break up the monotony of YOU, you place angels everywhere?!? Plus who wants their body associated with taking a shit?

I spent a couple minutes sitting on the toilet composing myself before I came back out into the living room.

"Why do you have pictures of yourself?" I asked.

"Because I wake up every morning and give myself a big hug," she said. "Then I sing."

"Why?" I said.

"Because I'm a good fuckin person," she said. A lil pissed off.

Later on she told me how she used to be a biker chick and a huge slut. She blew all the members of Black Sabbath like ten times each when she was their groupie. I realized immediately that she couldn't have evil enter her body, because she'd had so much of it enter her in her youth. She probably hosted the entire Knievel family at one point. She went on to detail even more prodigious tales of youthful sex and sluttery. She was graphic, she was hardcore, she was filthy. I had a boner.

But NOOOOOOOWWWWWWW? Now she was a born-again Christian and a vegan. I was oh so fortunate enough to catch her in her re-born and blossoming phase. PRAISE THE LORD! Lucky me, a re-born vegan! Why do I always find girls immediately after their slutty phase? I have yet to find a girl who said, "It's cool you met me now! I'm really at the zenith of my deep throating ability. Buckle up!"

On the couch after dessert, I nodded and listened empathetically as she beamed about her new found sense of hope and pride, all the while thinking how best to shimmy off her organic cotton underpants. There was a lot of sexual energy in the air and we started making out like two animals, totally grinding. I started biting her neck and pulling her hair. Going crazy. It was ON like Donkey Kong.

Suddenly, she stops me and says, "I haven't had sex in six year. I'm a born-again virgin."

"Oh come on, you're not RRRREALLY a virgin," I said.

"I am in Jesus' eyes," she said.

"....Okay."

I grabbed her tit, took it out of her bra and started nibbling on it because I didn't want to argue with her. She went, "Uh...Yess..No..No...Yes..Yess...No...No..." She would smash my head into her tit until I started to suffocate and then suddenly pull it away. She'd push it and pull it. Push, pull. Smash, slap. I felt like I was either gonna get a black eye or Cauliflower ear.

Finally I said, "COME ON?!?!?"

"Oh my God, my body says yes," she said. "But my head says, No. No. No."

Oh shit, this was crucial, I thought. I have to say just the right thing to tilt the momentum in my penis's favor.

I said, "Um...Why?"

She said, "We're not married and you don't love me!"

"What are you talking about?" I said.

"It's bad to have sex before you're married, my sponsor told me that!"." she said. "I know it wasn't YOU that put your mouth on my breast, it was the devil. I know the devil made you do it."

"No, it was me."

"No it was the devil that made you do that," she said.

"No... it was God," I pleaded "God did!"

"No, God would never make you do that, but the devil would," she said.

Then she abruptly left the couch and ran into her room. I was about to leave when she returned wearing an animal print robe.

For the rest of the night she crawled around her apartment on her hands and knees acting like a cheetah. I would be lying down and she would be crawling over me, going "Rrrrrrrr!" with her robe on. And then when I would try to grab her, she would pull away. "You can't capture this pussy," she would say and then slink away and purr and lick her hand. To this day, if I see a cheetah on Animal Planet, I get wood.

I left, arguably, with the biggest case of blue balls in the history of man. She wouldn't even erk it because "of the evil sperm that would be released in her spiritual sanctuary."

Pelair and I never really went out again.

That night, when she dropped me off at my apartment she said she would give me a free haircut sometime. A few weeks later I followed up on her offer and called her. "Hey Pelair, I wouldn't mind that free haircut now."

"Okay, come to my place tomorrow at 5 p.m.," she said.

At 3 p.m. that day she called and said, "Jamie, I just wanted to let you know that I consider you evil and I don't cut the hair of evil demons."

Then she hung up.

You may find it hard to believe that I was ever this poor and desperate, but if you see any pictures of me from 1994, you'll notice how skinny and emaciated I looked.

Not coincidentally, you'll also notice how fucking long my hair was.

Posted by Jamie Kennedy at 1:48 PM