I Wait on Famous People

by ANDREW HICKS

In 1957, Andrew Hicks serves Marilyn Monroe and Frank Sinatra a Chocolate Thunder From Down Under at the Outback Steakhouse in Springfield, Ill.

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Last week at work, I thought I spotted the guy who played Craig’s dad in the Friday movies. Turns out it was one of the Isley Brothers. But it got me thinking, I’ve waited on a ton of famous people in my years as a server. Here are some highlights:

• While still in server training at Long Horn, I had to cut Bob Dole‘s 6-ounce sirloin into tiny pieces tableside. You know, because of that whole dead-arm thing he has going on.

• Not long after his gastric bypass surgery, I served Al Roker a grilled cheese from the kid’s menu. He ate two dainty bites and tipped me 135 percent.

• As a young cocktail waitress, I served a round of peach schnapps shots to Jesus Jones.

• I once laid out some paper towels for Ricky Martin during a restroom attendant shift at a seedy strip club called Chez Nutz.

Bachelor Survivor

THE REALITY TV MOVIE

Act 1: Bachelor Survivor dances with the stars after an amazing race, goes to celebrity hoarder rehab and gains a bunch of weight then loses it all.

Act 2: Bachelor Survivor sells all his hoarded shit to pawn shops and goes to live with swamp people who use their ice-trucker business to fund their ghost-hunting business.

Act 3: Bachelor Survivor is replaced by Ashton Kutcher.

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by JEFF BAILEY and ANDREW J HICKS
art by ERIC DOHMAN

This Week in J.Miz, Volume 16

by J.MIZ
edited by ANDREW HICKS

L to R: Chippy, Chippy, Chippy

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• Until they tell me otherwise, I will assume that all squirrels are named Chippy.

• I recently started putting baking soda in my cat’s litterbox. But honestly I’m disappointed in the efficacy. He has not made ANY crack.

• If I had a dollar for every time I drunkenly drove to some guy’s for a booty call, I’d be able to pay for all these DUIs.

• If I had a dollar for every time I said, “If I had a dollar…” I’d say nothing but THAT.

• I heard some guy call himself a “recovering alcoholic.” I thought that was a pretty fancy name for what I always called “Sunday.”

• When I get a new haircut, I need to fuck something. That’s just the way it is.

• As I walk to work on this windy Chicago day, I have newfound respect for the salmon.

• Whenever my black friends quote anything, I always incorrectly assume it’s from “The Color Purple,” the Bible or T.I.

Thanksgiving ExtravaGaganza

by ANDREW J HICKS and ERTEL GRAY

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Soundalike dance songs about turkeys. For an hour and a half. Enjoy, world!

The first Thanksgiving took place 490 years ago. Miles Standish deep fried a turkey, Pocahontas brought over a crapload of Boone’s Farm, and Squanto provided the blunts. Everyone ate, drank, smoked and listened to the music of the Thompson Twins*. Thus, a tradition was born.

The ins and outs of Thanksgiving remained relatively unchanged until 1887, when canned fruits and meats were introduced to the market. Suddenly, Thanksgiving was a time for turkey, Boone’s Farm, blunts and a bowl of jellied cranberry sauce, wiggling and still in the shape of the can. In the century-plus since, no one has ever actually eaten the cranberry sauce. It just sits there. It’s the Ringo Starr of the Turkey Day feast.

Mullets, Fauxhawks and Bieber Lesbians

by KING MAB
edited by ANDREW HICKS

Lesbian hair photo collage assembled by Eric Dohman.

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Remember when mullets were cool? Some of you might be old enough.There was a narrow window of history where business in the front/party in the back was not only tolerated but venerated. People weren’t making fun of Mel Gibson in the ’80s for his rocking hairstyle, nor were they taking jabs at Bono while he belted out “Sunday Bloody Sunday” while sporting the Camero Crash Helmet. In the ’80s, mullets weren’t a bad thing, they were totally BAD. And even though the poor, ignorant fuckers who purposefully fashion their hair into the Faded Glory are constantly, and rightfully, mocked, it wasn’t always so. Although it really does boggle the mind that hipsters are trying to bring it back — albeit ironically.

Now, you can tell when a popular hairstyle is on its way out when lesbians begin to wear it to identify themselves as lesbians. The same thing is happening right now with the fauxhawk. You can still go to meat-market clubs and bars to find guys sporting that abominable hairstyle, completely ignorant of the fact that the fauxhawk is the mullet of their generation.

Andrew vs. J.Miz: Heavy D Is Sinbad

by ANDREW HICKS and J.MIZ

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From L to R: KRS-One, Scotty Pippin, Guy, Ralph Tresvant, "Sinbad," Montell Jordan, Bill Bellamy, Malcolm X, Skee-Lo, Heavy D.

ANDREW: In 1998, I made a bet with a friend that Heavy D and Sinbad were the same person. If Sinbad shows up at Heavy D’s funeral, I’m screwed.

J.MIZ: Today is Sinbad’s birthday. Irony? Or IS IT?! HES BACK, YO! And, as for determining the winner of said bet, I’m gonna go with marijuana winning that one.

ANDREW: It’d be cool if half of Heavy D could reincarnate into half of Sinbad. Imagine all those marginally funny jokes contained in all those marginally appealing rap songs.

J.MIZ: Or if they were both in the same body and had a predeliction for punching the opposing side. I’d pay top fucking dollar to see that slugfest.

ANDREW: I picture C+C Music Factory‘s Freedom Williams showing up to referee that event.

J.MIZ: Yeah! Or the fat dude from X Clan. And I’m pretty sure E-40 is the guy from P.M. Dawn.

ANDREW: I’m pretty sure Ray J is the other guy from P.M. Dawn. Which means Kim Kardashian fucked at least half of P.M. Dawn.

J.MIZ: Isnt Kardashian that Susanna chick from The Bangles with butt implants?

ANDREW: That really butch Bangle is Uncle Kracker.

J.MIZ: But didn’t Uncle Kracker turn into Bubba Sparxxx just before becoming Paul Wall? I’m pretty sure…

ANDREW: She was definitely the busiest Bangle.

The Majesty of Karaoke

by ERTEL GRAY
edited by ANDREW HICKS

Karaoke: Where the world's most attractive people huddle together and scream beautifully into a microphone.

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“For every failed singer in this world, there is a karaoke DJ eating his weight in hot wings by dim light.”
-Voltaire

The ancient Japanese art of karaoke has never really seemed to hit its zenith in America. Even today, every bar you go to has at least one karaoke night on its chalkboard schedule, nestled between $2 Pitcher Tuesday and Thirsty Thursday.

So what’s the appeal? For every Joe Average, maybe it’s the dream of wooing a lady friend with a mystical version of Peter Frampton‘s “Baby, I Love Your Way.” In reality, the alcohol involved always seems to transform Frampton’s ode to loving a female’s way into a horribly off-key, off-rhythm “‘OohbabeeILove…’ where am I? The damn screen’s moving too fast. Where’s Brenda at? Get up here, y’whore! ‘WannaTeeellYou…'”

Karaoke, at its crux, is basic good fun. No one’s there to judge your performance. Oh sure, that guy who just threw up on his shirt sorta looks like Simon Cowell, but remember: you’re wearing beer goggles. I lied about the “no one’s judging you” thing, actually. If you’re singing, you should be aware that I am judging you based on pitch, vocal range and choice of material. I am your own… personal… Cowell.

But you’re not going to win a recording contract and/or make millions with me. I’m judging you solely because I don’t want to make the same mistakes you do. Recently, I made plans to go out with a girl (yeah, I was surprised, too) who absolutely loves to sing. And apparently displays the same lack of shame that I do. A keeper? After tonight’s debacle? Right? (Right!) You’re bloody well right!

Online Dating Profile Disqualifications

by JUSTIN OLOMON
edited by ANDREW J HICKS

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Enjoys inflating heart-shaped balloons a little too much. Next!

I keep seeing other people’s posts about online dating, so I’m gonna go check out one of these matchmaking sites and see what kind of girls I can find.

*starts scrolling through profiles*

Okay, 25? Looks 50. Next!

Favorite book is Twilight. Next!

Favorite TV show is “Jersey Shore.” Next!

Single mother. Next!

Religious. Next!

Part of the 99%. Next!

Tea Partier. Next!

Too chubby. Next!

Too skinny. Next!

From Pekin, Ill. Next!

I (HEART) BIEBER! Next!

Looking for a tough man. Next!

Makes less than $20,000 a year. Next!

Luvs to paaartay hard in the name of Cthullu! Not sure what that means. Next!

This Week in J.Miz, Volume 15

by J.MIZ
edited by ANDREW HICKS

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Being fat on Halloween is an extra-special thing.

• For Halloween, I’m going as a shy, conservative, demure, celibate lady. Now THAT’S a fucking costume!

• Handing out “treats.” My Halloween costume is “The Bad Influence.” I’m giving the kids cigarettes, airplane bottles of booze, and HPV.

• The Jack-O-Lantern started with turnips. Suck on that, Hallmark! I want a damn Turnip-O-Lantern.

• Why do fat women always look so angry? I’d be ECSTATIC if I got to eat that much delicious shit!

• An 80-year-old woman asked me, “How has such a pretty girl like you never been married?” My reply, “Guys only like to FUCK crazy girls, Gramma!”

• If you discover a shortcut and it then replaces your regular route, it’s no longer a shortcut.

• Whenever I masturbate, I have this EXTREMELY detailed fantasy about having sex.