Jason and The Droid :: Part 1

Salty Droid: Special guest with us on the blog again today. His name is Jason Jones :: and you’ve never fucking heard of him. Jason writes a blog about savory robotics and high end hair conditioners {or something} :: who cares … fuck him! :: Jason … welcome to the fake show.

First question :: Who is the Salty Droid?

Jason Michael Jones: Interesting question Droid. First time I’ve heard it {fake laughing … in the distance a choir full of angels sings}. I would have loved to have told you myself … maybe with a titch more distinction. But you did, in fact, just answer the big question genius bot.

SD: So you’re not a fucking robot then? {sucks to be you!}

JJ: Nope. I’m a real boy.

SD: I notice that you said “boy” :: probably making a Pinocchio reference like every “tough guy” should :: but I’m thinking it’s an accurate descriptor for you. You’re a bit dainty aren’t you? A bit light in your britches? Suddenly I’m way less afraid of you :: Fuck you asshole!

JJ: But you started off with fuck you?

SD: Yeah :: but I was hesitant about it. I don’t want your sorry ass snooping around the ol’ machine shop :: if you know what I mean?

JJ: I’m pretty sure I don’t.

SD: Anyways :: your a skinny little bitch :: almost runt like. Why should I fear you?

JJ: I don’t think anyone was worried about losing a round of fisticuffs to me … or that you were actually going to burn their eyes out with your “lasers” –

SD: HEY:: Easy there Daddy! I will put out some mother fucking eyes I if have to. And don’t “air-quote” my lasers either Tiny Tim or I’ll show you what I’m about here and now :: er :: right?

JJ: Nope, sorry. You can’t put out eyes. We’re the good guys … and you are totally fake.

SD: I find that very disappointing.

JJ: You can still talk about putting people’s eyes out though …

SD: … and using them as the eyes on the pancakes I just ordered but never planned to eat :: like throw away eyes without souls :: lying around with empty packets of butter and spilled cream?

JJ: Sure.

SD: Acceptable. Tell us more about yourself :: and keep it short because I’m already bored.

JJ: I was born in Detroit in 1975 to some poor, but really nice, people {I love you Mom!}. We moved to Northern Utah when I was two for reasons I’ve never understood, and I was raised in the land of the Saints.

SD: So you’re a fucking Mormon? Holy balls!

JJ: No, I’m afraid we were rabid Pentecostals.

SD: Holy balls! Like speaking in tongues :: exorcisms :: rolling around on the floor :: that kind of shit?

JJ: Exactly that kind of shit. And I was true believer. Zero doubts. No doubts. Doubts are just the first step towards heroin and random gay sex in the alley behind the abortion clinic. It turns out that Pentecostal fanaticism is not one of the top ten keys to fitting in to Mormon society.

SD: I’ll bet it also helped that you refused to keep your fucking mouth shut no matter the circumstance? Anyway Susan :: let’s speed this story along so we can get to the awesome parts about me.

JJ: Okay. Started working when I was 13. Dishwasher, carpenter’s assistant, and then as an optical technician through High School. Almost failed out of High School for not giving a shit … but didn’t. Enlisted in the Air Force after High School like my Father had … but didn’t have to go to Vietnam and watch people die like he did.

SD: Bonus! I hear that place sucked ass.

JJ: Yeah, that’s what I hear as well. After I got out of the Air Force I moved to Alaska and went to the University of Alaska. My military status made my admission automatic and covered for my High School sins. The GI Bill paid for most of my tuition and books.

SD: So you are a product of the welfare state? Living off the public tits?

JJ: That’s not a very generous way to phrase it … but that’s essentially correct. Without the US Military, going to college would have been impossible for me. But it was possible … and I got my Biology degree in three years. I was an RA my last year, a terrible job which I hated. I met Kate … someone else who hated being an RA … and we turned our mutual hatred of “ice breakers” and “remember that name” games into a ridiculously strong 11 year marriage.

SD: Until just now when she found out that you were the Droid and she dumped your useless ass? Boom! Snap! Suck it asshole!

JJ: Nope. She loves you Droid. You are doing good works … and she’s a good person.

SD: Oh. She sounds like a classy lady. Fine :: continue :: quick like.

JJ: Fine. Then Morningstar in Chicago … fun. Then law school at George Washington in DC … even more fun. Then fixing up and flipping shitty rental properties in Ann Arbor while Kate went to Michigan Law … not so fun. Then back to Chicago for the beginning of her crazy career in Big Law. I co-founded a legal outsourcing company with one of my friends from law school. He got us in the Miami Herald … because he was cool like that {link}. But it didn’t help. We couldn’t convince enough lawyers that it was a good idea.

SD: Maybe that’s because lawyers don’t give a rat fuck about saving their clients money?

JJ: Okay sure. I’m glad you said that and not me. I’d hate to irritate any rat fucks who don’t care about saving their clients money. We wouldn’t want anyone to have to try anything new or different would we? That would just be too scary. And god forbid we trust one of India’s 300 million genius level intellects with our precious document review projects … oh no … we can’t give up beautiful life sustaining document review …

SD: Hate to interrupt your bitterness :: but at what point in all this were you an Internet Marketer?

JJ: At no point. I’d never even heard that phrase until 2008.

SD: But you did kill a man and then bury his body in your basement below a freezer full of discount meats?

JJ: Nope.

SD: You have a brother/sister who works as a crack whore in Dallas?

JJ: I have one sister, Jennifer, who is a year younger than me. She is a Captain {soon to be Major} in the USAF and is a lawyer for the JAG core. She’s been all over the world … she rocks … and I’m proud of her.

SD: Maybe one of the D-bags should go and harass her?

JJ: Great plan! Better bring some guns … I hear they have some guns where she’s at.

SD: So why were you “hiding behind” a robot? Prone to unreasonable fear? Tendency towards vaginitis?

JJ: I’m not “hiding” behind you Droid. You are a creation of mine. You are fun, and interesting, and abstract in a way that doesn’t allow for easy classification or explanation. What you’re doing stands alone without reference to my resume, or my past, or my person. I wanted you to matter more than me.

SD: One of the smartest fucking things you’ve ever said … ever! And I congratulate you on your clear success in this matter. I fucking rule! :: You pale in comparison … which reminds me … fucking fuck you are one pale mother fucker.

JJ: Thank you. I hear vampire skin is getting trendy again … so I’ll take that as a compliment.

SD: So why reveal yourself now? Why sully my abstract glory with the concreteness of your boring reality? We were getting plenty o’ readers without you … and all the D-bags were hilariously wasting piles of money trying to find you. Why now punk?

JJ: Good question. Come back tomorrow and I’ll tell you a crazy story …

>> bleep bloop