Present's Mascot wanting a
piece of Jestersaurus Rex.
Following this second and final installment in the "Dave Kerman Plays In A Band Called Present And This Is Some Of The Stuff That Happened To Them" series is a brief, yet entirely exclusive to Jestersaurus(!), interview with Dave. Read both: it's FUN!
A Great Human
Anyway, we last left Dave with his band mates in Belgium or some such silly place, on top of the world after their Napoleonic conquest of Eastern Europe. He then returned to America for the first time in 2 years and began to travel back and forth from Europe in order to play with BLAST. This left him unavailable for Present's Certitudes sessions, so Daniel Denis did his best to fill his shoes, with mixed results. Word on the street has it that Denis' floppy Flitterby Fairy dolls were no match for Dave's firm-buttocked Barbie. Dave then re-joined the band for their subsequent tour of the United States, a trip that Roger predicted with casual understatement would be "a great human adventure."
During this tour Dave furthered his penchant to play drums with objects other than sticks for a number of reasons, not the least of which was to help alleviate a certain sense of sameness every night. He also figured that if people were spending their hard-earned cash to come see him play, he may as well try to entertain them visually as well as sonically, even if oftimes he made a complete buffoon of himself. "Trust me," says Dave, "I've done that a lot." Trust us Dave, we trust you.
A good example of said visual entertainment was offered in Chattanooga where the house PA was actually a home stereo. Playing as softly as possible so Pappa's vocals could be heard, sometimes they simply stopped and tapped on top of an amp or something equally uncharacteristically subtle (for Present anyway). Dave thought it might be nice to coincide little cymbal bell clinks to drops of Tabasco sauce dripping on his tongue. Keeping true to The Present Experience however, the little plastic hole that governs the release of droplets broke loose, setting forth the unbridled flow of Louisiana lava to lavish his tongue with an exquisite third degree embrace. Now you know why his tongue spent the rest of the tour in a nicotine-stained sling.
A Lesson In Speculative
Investments and an Economic Slap Across The Face as
Offered By The Smelly Whiff of Reality
|The band arrives.|
"We may not have had enough money for food," Dave coughs, "but we had cartons and cartons of cigarettes to live on. Such a surplus in fact, that Keith could empty a full pack between two pieces of stale bread and offer it to Pierre as 'The Present Diet'." Nowadays there are 9 musicians in the Present chain smoking gang in their little 12 ft x 10 ft rehearsal room. After a song or two they can barely see one another. "When rehearsal is over we emerge from the room in what appears to be a huge, stratocumulus cloud." One might think of it as creating a moody atmosphere.
Despite the endless cache of name-brand cigarettes, or perhaps because of it, the band had a sneaky suspicion that their expenses might potentially dip into the odd profit coffer in a "leave a penny take a penny" sort of way. Not necessarily of necessity mind you, but more a matter of convenience. They became acutely aware of this likelihood on their nights off when they couldn't quite afford the luxury of a rat-infested flea box with a buzzing, flickering motel light in the front and a line-up of stinky, emaciated, low-priced hermaphrodites in the back, sloppily spackling on gloppy layers of garish red lipstick with their black-haired hands, and snuffing out lipstick-stained Lucky Strikes with their stiletto heels. In these cases the band
|Busking for campers. "Jimmy Crack Corn, and I don't care..."|
One of Dave's fondest memories is from the morning after a fellow camper mistook him for Karen Carpenter: "I opened my eyes and propped myself up in the sleeping bag to catch sight of Pappa wearing his cowboy boots, a Speedo, and that ridiculous black trench coat he never takes off, smiling like the Cheshire cat whilst trudging very, very slowly toward the public showers with a bar of soap and a little towel under his arm, mumbling "I…am…go...ing to...baaathe." I howled when Denis asked, "with or without the coat?""
On few occasions, such as in Michigan, they were in the lap of luxury. Matthew (Discipline) Parmenter kicked his parents out of their beautiful home and the band proceeded to be "the things that wouldn't leave." The neighbors must have been a bit taken aback by all of the hairy, freaky euro-hippies half crocked and exhausted, sunbathing on the sidewalk and screaming at each other in French.
"All in all we survived the tour alive, albeit barely, only to find that our expenses had outweighed our income by more than we imagined," rather on par with nouveau spend and tax and spend 'conservatism'. "Thankfully, the kindness of Cuneiform Records ensured that one or two of us would not end up on a street corner playing three card monty and selling pencils from tin cups." Sadly, the rest of the band returned to their home countries to play three card monty and sell pencils from tin cups.
Was it the great, human adventure that Roger originally envisioned? "Absa-freaking-lutely," attests Dave. "But Steve Feigenbaum and Cuneiform ultimately paid for the experience in blood," an experience that is not likely to happen again! They had a great time in most venues, including Chicago, San Francisco, New York, and notably Milwaukee, where the venue was hit by lightning, forcing Kerman to improvise with kitchen utensils and Skipper Dolls alone in the dark because of the resulting power outage. But there were even weirder moments as well, like the show in Denver, where Dave couldn't free his wrists from the trick handcuffs during the Houdini section of "Promenade," and was forced to either instantly learn to play handcuffed or holler out in pain as any wrong movement tightened them around his wrists like a pair of Jeffrey Dahmer 'cooperation enhancers'. "The audience guffawed, certain it was part of the act, but I can assure you this was no happy accident."
As the story goes, Israeli fan and MIO record label owner Meidad Zaharia was visiting Musea Records in France when he got wind that Bernard Guiffier was speaking with Roger Trigaux on the phone right in front of him. Well, the fan in Meidad got the better of him. He snatched the phone from Bernard and had a few glorious, fanatical moments with Roger on the telephone. Roger gave Meidad his home address as one typically does to be polite apparently. Little did he know that Meidad would be right over.
Meanwhile back in The Holy Land, two other Present enthusiasts (recording engineer Udi Koomran and Israeli pop star Avi Belleli) were working on a state-funded musical production of Othello in a Tel Aviv studio. Meidad showed up at Pappa's door in Brussels and threw him the unlikely line that, "you've got lots of fans in the tiny country of Israel," including two who would very much like to bring him there to work on Othello with them. To everyone's surprise, Roger accepted the invitation and a few weeks later he flew to Israel. Upon his return Roger was so thrilled with the experience, he decided the next Present CD must be recorded there.
After finishing a double CD's worth of compositions, he made arrangements with Guy Seeger's label to sponsor the proceedings. For rehearsals, Dave was flown to Brussels from Slovenia, and Keith from New York, though it worked out that they learned the songs separately in different parts of the Present household over the next few weeks. In fact, the band actually rehearsed together for only one day to prepare for the recording.
The material at this point included tracks that would
ultimately appear on No. 6 and High
Ceux Den Bas (parts 1 & 2) were to constitute disk 1 of the double-disc set.
Limping Little Girl
Strychnine for X-Mas
Reve de Fer was to be disc 2
The band then met in Tel Aviv in staggered order (staggering perhaps, being the operative word). Roger and Reggie arrived first, Pierre and Dave a few days later, and Keith and percussionist Dave Davister some days after that. After some initial interface problems with the computer not sending the proper midi-information from Brussels to Tel Aviv, they got underway. Well, Roger and recording engineer Udi Koomran got underway. Udi explains:
"Well, the concept of using computers to compose, record, and mix the music was quite new to us seven years ago. While making plans for the sessions I realized that we needed to find a way to integrate the two software programs we were using. So my modus operandi was to import all the data in Roger's compositions into my working environment via midi and synchronize the two computers: one for audio tasks and the other for notation. So before recording a single note I already had the structure, tempo changes, and meter changes of the compositions charted out, and all the instrument parts in midi."
It's worth noting here that the midi tracks do not appear anywhere on the final result; they've only been used as a reference for the recording, and for the ring tones on my wife's cell phone.
"I don't read music," Udi continues, "but the fact that Roger and I were using the same chart helped a lot. Using the same chart also helped while I was mixing in Tel Aviv and Roger was in Belgium because the 'remarks' were very precise."
They worked 18 hours a day manically manipulating all manner of midi mayhem while the rest of the band would be dragged away from their beach chairs at whatever time Udi and Roger felt they were ready for them. Dave spent the last 2 1/2 days performing the drums and percussion, finishing literally minutes before a taxi picked him up for his flight home. "I was exhausted, physically and emotionally (we all were), and I remember my eyes tearing up as the plane took off, half relieved, half sorry that the process had ended. This sort of emotional "confusion" became commonplace for me within 'The Present Experience.'"
For the end of
Souls For Sale Roger|
insisted on a prisoner bound in chains
wearing wooden shoes who walks in
note: Pierre playing the Abyss section|
on Souls For Sale on the same Mellotron Pink Floyd used
Months went by. A rough mix was produced here and there, but the final stages of the CD were a real challenge for Udi.
"We were only able to work on Limping Little Girl's mix when Roger was here and I had to do the rest on my own. As much as the technology helped at first, the fact that we were working by remote control was a struggle. I would mix all week and send Roger the result at the end of the week and get his remarks on Monday. We'd continue to work this way until we were both happy with the result. One interesting story about these sessions concerned the drums on Sworlf. Roger brought this young drummer to play the piece, which is different from the rest of the album, being more in the contemporary realm and less aggressive. So the new drummer, David Davister, was trying to play these delicate percussion parts Roger wrote with Roger conducting him. Roger insisted that the cue click be very loud in the monitor mix so he can be sure the parts are in time. When we finished the recording, my assistant broke down the drum set and Davister was about to leave for the airport when I realized that the click from the headphones had leaked badly into those faint percussive sounds he made. When I informed Roger about this he smiled and said, "Oh we will do something interesting with the click in the mix." This did not convince me at all, so minutes before Davister left I made him play me the individual strokes and rolls that made up the part Roger wrote for him. Later at home I sat for 2 days and re-created his drum performance from the samples I made."
before he realized what an utterly relentless pain|
in the ass his job was going to be.
In the end, Guy's label decided to nix the idea of a double CD and insisted that the recordings be released as two separate disks with a minimum of one year between releases. The full weight of work was put behind Ceux den Bas part 2, Limping Little Girl, and Sworlf. It was released a few months later as Number 6, named after Patrick McGoohan's infamous character in The Prisoner television series. This love of The Prisoner was shared by members of Univers Zero, who earlier included references to the series on their album, Ceux du Dehors. The song Bon Jour Chez Vous got its title from the French dubbed version of McGoohan's famous line throughout the show's history, "be seeing you", and Daniel Denis' last percussive sound on the song is the sound of cell bars slamming shut.
For their next performance, Udi suggested that Dave play on two large, metal grates with several contact microphones. For Dave, this would be a welcome respite of sanity after the part of Limping Little Girl where they recorded him sliding down the elevator shaft with claw hammers scraping the sides. Gianni (who had replaced Axel the roadie) and Udi put these huge hunks of wrought-iron on stage, wired up and ready for the sound check on the morning of their next concert. One was a 5 x 8 foot chunk of sheet iron, and the other was a sort of metal grating roughly about the same size, with a mesh of half-inch squares. The sound check for the outdoor festival was swell: they sounded huge and echoed throughout the French countryside. But on stage that night things were different. Of course.
"The end of Keith's bass solo was my queue to attack the mesh with the hammer," Dave recalls fondly. "When I faced the iron sheets, I was blinded by a bright, red spotlight that was directly behind them. I was unable to see anything but the brightest, most blinding red light I could imagine, glaring through the squares. Nevertheless, I approached the iron and got a glimpse of its approximate distance by squinting, and then just went for it. Unfortunately, I misjudged my distance and instead of the claw hammer scraping down the mesh, my knuckles made first contact, and THEY scraped downward, ripping the flesh back from two fingers down to the bone. Incidentally, I wasn't the only casualty that evening: Matt's frantic cello soloing left his fingers in a painful, bloody mess, and Roger's borrowed guitar received the royal Townsend treatment when he snapped the neck clean off of the body. What a mess."
About a year passed and Dave was now living full time in Givat Shmuel, Israel when he and Udi received Pappa's Word From On High. This was to call them to Brussels for three days of rehearsal after which they would play at a small Art rock festival, sandwiching Present on the bill between Anekdoten and Magma. "I was thrilled to share the stage with Vander, as long as it was not necessary for me to perform AFTER him. Luckily, this was not the case. I'm a big fan of Magma, and I'd seen this line-up before. This configuration of younger musicians is an absolutely top-notch force to be reckoned with. By the grace of the fates, Present played a very nice show that afternoon, at least to the point where Magma did not wipe up the stage with our innards, and we all had a festive time."
Iss Big Problim
The next day, backed-up and constipated, they set out for Gdansk, Poland for another concert, with Dave behind the wheel. "It was a long journey through the night and when the sun began to rise, the fog blinded me as I was trying to drive. A Polish motorcycle cop followed us for hours, forcing me to adhere to the speed limit which was unbearably tiring," (hence the song I Can't Drive Piecdziesiat Piec!). "After a while there were no more signposts for Gdansk, (which had previously been appearing like 'Pedro's South Of The Border' signs appear in North Carolina). After a heated discussion as to whether the sun rises in the East or the West, those of us not too exhausted to know the correct answer surmised that we were probably still headed in the right direction."
Dave pulled the van over at a closed gas station so Reggie could pee. "Keith, seizing the opportunity to do some business as well, walked behind the building. Almost immediately, Brother Keith came running back through the front of the gas station with his pants half down, with a most ferocious, little guard dog barking and nipping at his feet, hot on his heels. The chase didn't last long, and because Keith didn't seem too frightened it got so surreal that the rest of us couldn't help but burst into side-splitting laughter for many minutes on end.
"We arrived in Gdansk haggard. We knew our host was named Andre, so when we were met by someone who introduced himself as Andre, we thought this was him. Andre was accompanied by easily the most gorgeous young lady any of us had ever seen in Eastern Europe, so we were genuinely happy to have made his acquaintance. Finally, after asking Andre some particulars with regards to the PA, and being told, "No, no, no, I'm not THAT Andre, I'm his interpreter," the real Andre pranced into the room wearing only little white jocky shorts, and began to jump up and down, excited that we had finally arrived. At least 1/2 of us were now delirious from the past few days' fatigue and coupled with our giddiness left over from the dog-attack, were forced to bite our lips or leave the room. The 'real' Andre knew very little English, and of course, we speak no Polish. This nonetheless did not discourage Andre The Host from dismissing Andre The Interpreter and his Goddess from their commitment to see things go by smoothly in the vernacular sense. The real Andre had a Hitler-esque haircut, parted on the side, the bangs of which he moved out of his face and eyes constantly. And as one would cynically expect, he only knew one English phrase: "Iss no problim.""
Pierre: Do we need power converters?
Andre (brushing his hair away from his face): Iss no problim.
Roger: Has the technical crew arrived at the venue?
Andre (brushing his hair away from his face): Iss no problim.
Keith: May I ride your mother like a big funky sex machine?
Andre (brushing his hair away from his face): Iss no problim.
"So, the concert went very well, and we went to bed hungry that night because our pleas for foodstuffs were met with the ubiquitous, "Iss no problim.""
Andre's house was the band's billet for the night. He lived in a small three room flat with his parents, wife, and two toddlers. Adding the nine members of Present was "no problim:" The parents slept in their room, the children slept with Andre and his wife, and the nine wheezing, snoring, fart-ripping belchers from Belgium were graciously accommodated on the children's bedroom floor. "Now, I'm a tad bit of an insomniac and a light sleeper usually to boot," Dave whines, "so eight other guys in such close quarters snoring like sputtering chain-saws was a bit more than I could stand. I took the blanket and pillow off of the floor, exited the children's room and proceeded to tip-toe out into the hallway where I hoped to get some shut-eye."
From the hallway he could see Andre's father in the kitchen. He had fallen asleep in a stupor at the dining table, and the candle illuminating the room made him appear quite dead. His old mouth was gaping wide open and his eyes were rolled back in their sockets. The only sign of life was some slight clearing of the throat here and there (or was that his gurgling, gasping last breath?). Dave laid down on the blanket and apparently the sound of him fluffing up the pillow woke Andre.
"He entered the hallway, and upon seeing me, looked puzzled. I pointed at the children's room and softly made a fake snoring noise so he would understand why I was trying to sleep in the hallway. Instead of going back to sleep, he brushed his hair out of his face and said, "iss no problim." He burst into the room where his mother was sound asleep, flicked on the light and woke the poor elderly woman up in a fright. He ripped the covers off her and began screaming at her, pointing to the kitchen. She gruffly got out of bed and joined her husband, still dozing away at the kitchen table, giving me quite the dirty glare as she passed me in the tiny hallway. Despite my protestations, Andre insisted "iss no problim" that I sleep in his mother's bed. She looked so perturbed that I wanted to die. I couldn't face her staring at me from the kitchen, so I did exactly as I was told. The room smelled of flatulence, so I closed the door behind me and laid the blanket on the floor near a slightly opened window."
highly valuable collection
of Polish money on ebay.
Roger: No, no. We cannot use Zlotys. We agreed upon two thousand DEUTSCHmarks, no?
Andre (leaving his hair right where it was): Iss problim. Iss Sunday.
Post Epi Log . . .
Another American tour was planned for late summer 2001, but an overall lack of guarantees made the scheme fall through. Perhaps this was one case where the fickle financial fate of touring was their ally as their scheduled flight date was on 9/11, which would have put the kibosh on their ability to travel across the country, not to mention the subsequent lack of interest the American population had in pretty much anything at that point. This after such long, expensive flights from Brussels and Tel Aviv would have been a disaster.
Roger and Reggie, never ones to rest, immediately began writing two major pieces: Vertige and The Last Drop. Dave returned from Tel Aviv to Denver for the holiday season and while there, added a bit of percussive work to the Thinking Plague CD, A History of Madness.
Early the next year while waiting for some concrete news from Present, he returned to Israel, now as a full-fledged citizen (having both an ID and the unfortunate brush with a suicide bombing to prove it). This was when the Israeli band Ahvak began recording their Cuneiform CD. "They were pals of mine from the suburbs of Tel Aviv and sounded like they could have been influenced by Present, Thinking Plague, 5uu's, Lars Hollmer, and 70's Prog in general. They kidnapped me during a Hebrew class (good thing too: we were working on infinitives) and forced me to learn their songs at gunpoint. Udi and I produced the disk and it caused a small fury in Israel, where all of the other "progressive" acts sound as if they live in the 70's. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. There is no other place on Earth as misguided and delusional as to its own accomplishments in the world of Art.
Anyway, to further this assertion, Udi and I also recorded and mixed another time-consuming 5uu's project: A maxi-single, download-only release called, "Tel Aviv Construction Events". This is the most experimental work by that pseudonym yet, having been "constructed" from tracks submitted by a number of people: Bob Drake, Chris Cutler, Janet Feder and Tom Dimuzio, Avi Belleli, Scott Brasieal, Dror Feiler, Ned Rothenberg, Deborah Perry, and others sent us unrelated musical ideas, which were cataloged and stored on the computer. By means of changing tempos, key values, time signatures and such, we were able to make veritably complimenting musical forms out of what should have been a mish-mash of utter noise when overlapped upon each other. There are also a couple of more formally "composed" bits played by yours truly, but the major gist of this was to move into more uncharted directions. Essential to all of this was Udi's hard work and his expertise on the computer, which in my book is the sole, saving grace of anything labelled, "Progressive", these days. We're lucky to have Udi in our court. He's one of the most sought-after recording engineers in Israel, and he makes a pretty penny doing "straight" music. But a love for art, RIO, his friends, and hard, unrewarded work prompts him to spend a lot of time and energy in a different direction, thus making him a staple of Israeli "Prog" these days (and you KNOW I use that term rather reservedly)."
Amidst the chaos that summer, Kerman made his way back to France to record with the English group, Towering Inferno. "Bob Drake was on bass, and both Chris Cutler and myself were on drums, sheepishly replacing their former drummers, John Marshall and Charlie Hayward. We recorded almost 2 disks worth of material before the leaders of the group (Richard Wolfson and Andy Saunders) returned to the UK to begin mixing it all. Unfortunately, Richard passed away before the music could be fully completed, but I've heard that Andy has pledged to complete the work, and the rest of us have agreed to do whatever is necessary to help him accomplish this.
Lately, I've re-located back to Denver, to start up ReR USA (Recommended Records), which is something I always figured I might end up doing. Also a new label, Ad Hoc Records. Our aim is to make widely available both new works and re-issues of projects that we feel merit attention in a marketplace that mostly ignores our aesthetics and (dare we say?) good taste.
And, to bring the life and times of David Charles Kerman up-to-date, of course, Pappa got Present booked at Nearfest this year, so we'll be there and at a few other shows around the East coast in July, with a preceeding set of rehearsals and concerts in Europe (including the Tritonale Festival in France) during June."
Jestersaurus Rex: You started out from very humble beginnings. You had a strong interest in experimentalism, but that in itself is hardly a good teacher for the rudimentary skills necessary to take on polyrhythms, gain the attention of Chris Cutler, be capable of filling the shoes of Daniel Denis, and eventually be regarded as one of the masters of the craft. Are you some kind of government experiment or have you been stick-synching ever since those lip-synching Jackson 5 gals humiliated you in high school?
Dave Kerman: I'm just sick. Really, I'm lucky to have been afforded the attenion you mention, and the rest has just been hard work. And for sure that work has come at some sort of price. I never had the chance to settle down, raise a family, be a normal man with a normal life. Sometimes I wonder how things would have turned out differently had myself and my pals not been so obsessed with making music, and trying to get it accross to some people who'd be willing to listen. Sometimes, when I'm out-&-about, I see families at resturaunts, close relationsips, sweethearts on parade, or whatever. And it all makes me feel that somehow my formula for striving at success has left a bit of a void in my personal life. There was at least one point where I was completely hermit-like, living at what is now known as Studio Midi Pyrenees, completely alone, and work, work, working every waking moment. I had almost zero interaction with others for months, save for a weekly bike trip 10 kilometers into a neigboring town for provisions. But the result was surely the most profound period of my career, and the pay-offs of such a laborious lifestyle came to fruition when the rest of the band came over to put into place all the work I'd mapped out. So basically I attribute what success I've managed to attain to a combination of obsessive/compulsive hard work, sacrifice, and to be sure, the same amount of hard work and sacrifice from friends who've made themselves available to be part of the music. The price has been the sacrifice of a stable personal life, but it seems to me that to be successful at what I wanted to accomplish, I couldn't afford to turn down any opportunity that arose, and this M.O. ensured that I couldn't stay in any one place long enough to see too far into the future.
JR: Hunger's Teeth is regarded by many as the significant turning point in 5uu's output. Does this coincide with you having stopped/started taking drugs or do you have another explanation for this?
DK: Hunger's Teeth saw the germination of some semblance of sobriety, but it was by the time of the next album, Crisis in Clay, that I'd decided to get clean and sober for good. Now it's been such a long time with a clear head that I can't really recall much of what life or music meant to me back in the old days of brave juice and slut powder. I think we had a lot of fun in the old days, but very little gets accomplished if a band is falling all over themselves at rehearsals. Things became more "serious" with sobriety, and I had the energy to chug away at things I'd never have considered prior to giving up some bad habits. And when I started to play with the trio of Bob Drake, Sanjay Kumar and me, seeing as the other two were completely devoted to music as opposed to driving down to Tecate to get blitzed on Mezcal and passing out face down in the dirt, I thought it best to follow suit.
JR: During your performance with Thinking Plague at NEARfest, we became part of an awesome force of Tibetan Mystery Triangulation. I was fresh from receiving my 30 attunements and at the time I only realized two of the points: you and myself, with you obviously being the apex. I later discovered the third point was a man I had not yet met named Hammond Hill. I believe that together we caused a great cosmic rift in the astral plane. Just as I thought we were about to activate my MerKaBa crown chakra crystal and dormant psychic glands, I had a mildly disagreeable sensation when you looked in my direction. You morphed violently into an apparition of a flaming, horned-headed serpent, gesturing furiously that the end is nigh. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I think this clearly indicates that you are the earthly incarnation of the foul snake of darkness who seeks to plunge humanity into generations of leprosy, plagues, floods, fires, and nuclear holocausts, culminating in the Final Battle in which you'll fight to claim our souls for all eternity. Does your mother know about this?
DK: "I" don't even know about this, and I feel compelled to enroll you in several 12-step programs. You can begin in Over-eaters Anonymous, where you will regain a taste for meat-based protein matters in safe proportions (like Opposum Paws, Squirrel Menudo and soups and broths made by steeping the circulatory systems of baby goats in flambay'd lemonade).
~~Sorry, there is no Letters section in this issue ~~
Dear Mr. Jestersaurus,
Why the hell aren't you posting a letters section in this issue?! The only reward I get for reading this wretched rag is reading writing from other people! Brilliant job JACKass!
Angry in Attleboro
Dear ASSHOLE in Attleboro,
I'm so over your head. The brilliance of this web page is in its utter lack of consistency and its utter lack of brilliance. And letters. DUMBass.
Dear Mr. Jestersaurus,
I'm with the Asshole in Attleboro. I really miss not having a letters section. Please reconsider!
Guy With The Asshole
Dear ASSHOLE With The Asshole,
I said I'm ANGRY in Attleboro, not an Asshole in Attleboro, asshole!
ANGRY in Attleboro
Dear Asshole in Attleboro,
Who you calling asshole, ASSHOLE?
GUY With The Asshole
Dear Mr. Jestersaurus,
Sorry to break up the intellectually stimulating repartee taking place here but I do agree with both assholes about the lack of letters. I also think someone should at least mention Present in their letter if you do decide to post any letters.
A Reasoned Plea
Dear Reasoned Plea,
Dear Reasoned Plea,
Who you calling asshole, asshole?!
Who you calling asshole, asshole?!
ANGRY in Attleboro
GUY With The Asshole
<>Be a famous asshole! Write to Jestersaurus at firstname.lastname@example.org<>
Mac Beaulieu may be the biggest asshole here but that's not to say there aren't other assholes here whose sizes would make a Sumo wrestler blush, like Tom Hayes, Mike McLatchey, and Dirk Evans. I'd mention others but it's getting far too smelly in here.
Expose Writers Staff
Jestersaurus is a satirical newsletter published by The Gnosis Project. Jestersaurus uses invented names in some of its material. Exceptions include cases in which public figures and other individuals are being satirized. Any other use of real names is accidental and coincidental. The content of this newsletter-graphics, text and other elements-is copyright (c) The Gnosis Project, and may not be reprinted or retransmitted in whole or in part without the expressed written consent of the publisher. Jestersaurus is not intended for readers under 18 years of age.