My wife is Jenna Fischer, AKA America’s Sweetheart. You know, the smoking hot secretary from The Office? Not the redheaded one, the original one.
She is obviously way out of my league. I look like the kind of guy, if you were my high school principal and I complained to you that someone punched me in the face, you’d look at me for a few seconds and just kind of nod your head and say “yeah, I can see that happening to you.”
Anyway, I love my wife. She’s one of those chameleon ladies who can look like an entirely new lady if she puts her hair into pigtails or wears glasses or braces. It tricks your body into thinking you’re fucking a new lady, which is what your body wants because of science.
Back in 2006 or so, I was telling her how grateful I was to have grown up before selfies and Facebook catalogued every little thing you did forever. Kids in the 70s and 80s did some fucked up shit. We had three channels on television and almost no video games. I remember a lot of frogs being mutilated out of sheer boredom.
She told me that if I wanted to be successful, I’d have to put myself out there, and that meant going on Facebook and Twitter and letting my freak flag fly. She loved my bland, borderline offensive humor and thought the world would, too, and for the most part, she was right.
Until she was wrong. Now I hate her and think she might be a secret Republican. And she has the nerve to be pissed at me because I promised to put her in Guardians of the Galaxy 3, which is obviously impossible now. I’ve tried to explain this to her and she just doesn’t get it.
I told her the only way for us to go on is if she dyes her hair and pretends to be Amy Adams. I can still love Amy Adams because Amy Adams didn’t screw me out of Guardians of The Galaxy 3. As far as I’m concerned, Jenna Fischer is an evil bitch who is dead to me. I refuse to speak to her or even acknowledge her unless she pretends to be Amy Adams, or at least dresses up as some other lady with braces and a club foot or a cleft palate or something.
I think she’s being a stubborn whore and she thinks I’m being a paranoid pervert.
Which one of us is right?
Dear James Gunn,
Your question confuses me because, according to Wikipedia, you and Jenna Fischer divorced in 2008. At first that made me think “present day” might actually be 2007. Time is cyclical from my perspective, so it’s really hard to keep track of what year it is. That’s why, for the longest time, I didn’t protest when those dumb Young Earth Creationists claimed the Earth was only 6,000 years old. From a certain point of view, they’re right. I forget how exactly. Damn, time is confusing.
You know what else is interesting? From God’s point of view, there’s absolutely no difference between Jenna Fischer, Amy Adams, Isla Fisher, Bryce Dallas Howard, Jessica Chastain, and Ellie Kemper. There are probably more people in that pool of clones, I just can’t think of them at the moment. I have to admit, I went through a lazy period about 45 years ago and a bunch of white actresses came out looking exactly the same. It seemed to work out well, since there are so many parts in movies for pasty redheaded white girls that one person couldn’t possibly play them all. Just look at how hard Amy Adams works, and yet somehow there’s still enough work for the rest of them.
Anyway, my point is, who cares that you’re no longer married to Jenna Fischer? If that’s your type, there are plenty of other fisch (see what I did there?) in the sea. And if you move out into the Heartland you’ll eventually find someone who’s never heard of you or those things you said on Twitter and wouldn’t care anyway because they’re not woke enough to understand that some off-color jokes you made 10 years ago should ruin your life forever.
—Jesus the Lazy
Dear James Gunn,
I have to say that I’m conflicted about this new “never forgive” mob mentality that social media has spawned. On one hand, I get a kick out of humans being irrational and paranoid and hateful. On the other hand, it kind of steals my thunder.
We’ve got guys down here in Hell whose worst sin was eating meat on Fridays, and they’re sharing cells with serial rapists. Such was the justice of the Old Testament. My favorite thing used to be torturing people that weren’t so bad and probably didn’t need to be here in the first place. They’d be screaming about how sorry they were, or how such n’ such wasn’t always a sin by the moral standards of their culture, or how they never even heard of Jesus so why should they be tormented for eternity for not believing in him. Did you know Gandhi was down here for a while? He actually wasn’t that fun to torture because he refused to scream. But then God went soft and stopped casting people into Hell just for not being Christian, and he freed some of the more famous infidels from the past. Anyway, my point is eternal punishment wasn’t always about real justice, and that was what was so fun about it. These days, Twitter is the thing that makes sure nobody is ever forgiven for anything they’ve ever said or done no matter how long ago or how big or small the actual consequences were for what they did or said. That used to be my thing. I tell ya, the more culture shifts in this direction, the more I worry about job security.
—Satan the Concerned
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