jackassworld

Earl Parker is a writer. Writing is what he does. The following is a story that Earl wrote. Your job is to read it. —Dave Carnie

“The American Hopeful Category” by Earl Parker

I guess that’s the only way one could describe it. Maybe you have been subject to this ongoing theme that likely has something to do with living in a well-to-do country such as this. Maybe a person living in Mexico might hear more of the truth rather, and therefore lead a more realistic life.

I think it was Rolling Stone that listed my pen name as “leading” the best magazine in LA. A woman I hung out with in those days asked me what great degrees the mention had done for my life? It didn’t do a single thing.

I wrote it into something good recently: a chick I was visiting in my birth town found one of my magazine checks and came to the conclusion that I was going “to be rich,” but of course it never took place. Not yet, at least.

One of the jackass writers, Markus Lewman, claimed that I would “find love.” At some point? Is that what he meant?

There are chicks and women everywhere in the central Los Angeles area. I don’t get to hang out with any of them. I walk out of an elevator; a hot blonde babe walks in giggling. I go up the escalator at a mall; a pretty young woman stares at me as I traverse upward…

The crowning defeat to my relocation to this sunny region, was an amazing looking bronze babe staring at me from her car at a stoplight. I think it was one of those ones where you don’t know it ’til it’s over. I guess I could have ran out into traffic, but that wouldn’t go along with my story.

Standing at the corner near my place, a girl in a black Beetle reversed the car and looked at me, then sped away. I guessed she went into the nearby bar, but once I showed up, she ignored me.

The list goes on: girls pretending they have a crimp in their neck to look at me. Of course they all don’t think I’m cute, but over a hundred every six months seem to drive by me and wave, or gaze in my general direction. Even on my way to buy some new lubricant.

Four Seasons brand “Ice” was an amazing experience. I decided to apply it a second time for good measure, and am now saving it for intercourse.

Climax Heat delivers quite an experience. I bought a large tube of it for my “sex drawer.” Containing a vast amount of condoms and lubricants my apartment is in a mood none of the women know.

(Photo of Earl Parker taken by Mike Ballard during the Big Brother Midwest road trip for issue 12, circa 1994.)