amazingjackthefactfinder-blog

[amazingjackthefactfinder-blog]

Southern Cut Calamity

Here comes the wave of applause doused with honor and glory. I’d like to say I do this strictly for the sake of spreading quality journalism to the masses but I’d be lying if I did. A portion of me craves the complimentary spotlight that comes with releasing a mouthwatering segment. This news team had broken ground on a gold mine of success. Each press release has been an excavation of a cavern leading to paydirt. Yet a common motif of dread is hovering around each developing accomplishment. When will the bubble pop? A moral question is raised as well upon the idea of one media outlet having enough clout to control the ebb and flow of public opinion. Will the tides eventually turn? I have to accept that my career as a reporter is leaving a mark on society that is permanent as skidmarks in a pair of granny panties. Its Monday now and of course it seems mundane but that’s how most days begin and i can’t discount the potential of more life altering news. I play a tape of an exclusive interview I had with congressman Luther Strange of Alabama. I hear his southern drawl dribble out his cheeks with long pauses as if I were waiting for his words to coagulate and clot into sentences. He talks of his road to Capitol Hill and the sacrifices he has made for the people of his state while being unwavering on his principles. Typical government suit, always overzealous towards the topics of conversation his constituents could care less about while casually duck diving beneath the questions that have any meat on their bones. I stop the tape and rap my fingers against my temple. What to make of all this. There is so much expectation from our listeners, I can’t give them a poppycock edition of 60 minutes. They would burn me at the stake, and I’ve already announced information would be released about the Alabamian senator. I open my web browser and decide to catch the next flight back to Huntsville International Airport where I was greeted not 3 days prior by the men of Luther Strange’s entourage. Something didn’t sit right with me as I left our previous pow wow. Luther’s last name wasn’t the only thing strange about our discussion and at the moment I had no other stories occupying my dossier. At times a reporter must trust his gut and follow intuition when no obvious scandal rears its head. Hours passed and I was experiencing severe jet lag but I arrived nonetheless at our original meeting place, the Huntsville Museum of Art, to investigate as to why the senator would meet in such a public place rather than in his plush office. The curator of the museum was at the door speaking with a group of collectors. Upon this visit I was able to make out his face and recognized him as Sal Gumby from the cover of a recent issue of Artsy People of Alabama. He must know something. Seeking out important leads becomes a sixth sense after you’ve been working the city beats as long as I have. He’s up to something I’m sure of it. I walk past him and nod in his direction, he doesn’t seem to remember me. That was his first mistake. His second was his undoing as he said goodbye to his peers and walked down a a corridor in solitude. The thick shag carpet although tacky made for a near invisible pursuit as I snuck closer and closer to my source. A sharp left was made and I followed mere feet away. That’s when I pounced and hit Mr. Gumby with a jawdropping question in the form of a lead pipe. He was out cold. Actually as i take a closer look I may have cracked his skull with the blunt force trauma of metal and inquisition. “Fuck” I say under my breath, why must I be so cavalier in my opening statements. Yup, he’s bleeding out faster than slit pig. I quickly open my bag and start foraging for the mickey mouse band-aids I know are floating around my pack. I hear a low moan and I worry someone might be alerted. Again with the pipe, the band-aids are a lost cause, and down goes Gumby for the eternal count. Well there goes my only lead. Now I’m stuck in the deep south with the blood of a beloved Art Curator on my hands and it’s getting close to closing time. I’m sure Mrs. Gumby will be expecting him home any minute now. I grab the iPhone from Sal’s pocket and begin to type. “Hello to my beautiful wife. I wish I could make it home for dinner tonight but alas I would like a divorce and never want to see you, the family, or any of our friends again. Please do not look for me and close the museum for good with no hope of anyone else entering. This includes you my newly divorced ex-wife. (That means lock the doors from the outside.) I will mostly remember you for your ability to follow instructions and never question my whereabouts, how fondly I will recall your embodiment of those traits. Please do not let me down or else I will be very disappointed during the pursuit of my new hobby, swinging lead pipes wildly above my head with an apathy towards safety. I will now live out the rest of my life however short it may be doing what I love, and that is I repeat, throwing caution to the wind and violently flailing a lead pipe near my own cranium.” That should clear things up for the wife and give me a way to present any proceeding case to a court jury with a dash of “reasonable doubt”. As i place my trusty bludgeon in the cold lifeless grips of a seemingly innocent art enthusiast I find the keys to his office have fallen on the ground. It seems today is my lucky day after all. I stumble to Gumby’s office still shaken from the recent homicide, but that was expected. I reach out to unlock the door but it pushes open as if it wasn’t locked at all. What do you know, it wasn’t locked. I’m beginning to think murder was a bit over dramatic at this point when i could have simply walked in here alone with little to no supervision. Now that I think of it I don’t even remember seeing security anywhere on the premises. Well it’s the thought that counts they say. I never have been good with idioms and that phrase didn’t seem to fit the situation but it sounded nice to me anyway. I snap out of my internal monologue and my eyes open wide as I am rummaging through Gumby’s desk. Nestled between the countless paperclips and other office supplies, a tuna sandwich and an old edition of a sports illustrated swimsuit magazine I see now what I have been looking for all day. I see a photo of the senator. He is standing next to what looks like a Nazi, a high ranking member of the KKK and none other than actor Paul Reubens, who plays the beloved Pee Wee Herman. In the foreground the senator, Nazi, and Klansman are all smiling giving a thumbs up while burning a manila envelope labeled “List of Cures for Cancer”. In the background Paul Reubens is holding up the “Shocker” symbol spray painting various ethnic slurs on the side of an old folks home. Unsure as to why the art curator had this photo in his possession but happy my off kilter excursion was coming to a close I left the office in comforted silence. I’m chalking this up as a win in my book. I don’t have to go looking for a senator who before today nobody was going to give a shit about and I have dirt on that very same senator who will soon be notorious as the racist nazi sympathizer who hangs out with a surprisingly crass, racist in his own rite, actor Paul Reubens. I can see the headlines now “Shocking Photo Drives Alabama Senator to Resignation and Paul Reubens Fans to Tears: We Did Nazi that Coming”. And just like a revolving door this investigation opens and closes with ease. Unrelated to revolving doors, this investigation also lead to the mysterious disappearance of Art Aficionado Sal Gumby. Alabama mourns the loss of its one artsy fartsy person.

Legal Advisory: Documents of this nature have never been admissible in trial court therefore none of my previous writing shall condemn me to death row or any fine/jail time. Any and all implications of guilt leading to my arrest on the charges of murder, attempted murder, assault with a deadly weapon, trespassing, breaking and entering, defiling a tuna sandwich, and/or attempted kidnapping brought about by this non-fiction story are considered faulty in concept and the person/s bringing forth these allegations will be prosecuted under the full extent of the federal and state laws regarding slander.

[amazingjackthefactfinder-blog]

Get it while its hot. Fresh ass news coming through your ear holes. You will listen. You will enjoy.

[amazingjackthefactfinder-blog]

Update on successful launch

I’m awake again. My thoughts have been on expansion of sources. Sitting here relishing in the success of our first news story and the wide appraise it has already received in 2 emails and a ecstatic phone call. Caller Gordon remarks “Finally a news station getting back to basics and showing the world all you need is a little elbow grease and some chutzpah” Now, I must admit, everything is not perfect. Lets get that out of the way. Our tiddlywinks set ablaze with contempt from time to time just like Mr Average Joe except in this business... You’ll have to use more than white out to survive the fallout. An email came in around 9:30 p.m. was the specific time. And it also happened to be the same time in our time zone the pacific standard. Hell of a time zone if you ask me and maybe that’s why you get in touch with demons like this. Gwen Armani of Fresno California, which is not incredibly far from my neck of the woods so I’ve been watching our security cams and have stayed in the Amazing News Goretex lined tactical flak jackets that we have on stock for situations like these. Gwen writes, “Subject: You Shall Rue The Day You Crashed into the News Room. Body: My name is Gwen Armani don’t worry about remembering it, I’m not one for basic pleasantries and you won’t be alive long enough for it to be worthwhile memorizing. I’m Traveling down the coast to put a stop to your madness you call reporting. I have in my possession. One black ski mask, 6 shotgun slugs a Benelli M2 turkey shotgun, now I know what you’re thinking so i’ll explain. My AR-15 is at Claire’s Jewelry in the mall getting bedazzled along the barrel. I didn’t have time to wait for Tina, the 80 year old sales associate that emanated the smell of a half gallon of milk on its way out, to wheeze on the hot glue hoping her flem coated airways give off the wind speed of a category 5 tornado but barely ejaculating enough breath to blow out an easy out birthday candle. I’m sure you’ve been awaiting my message as it was so obvious what went wrong on your broadcast. HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY RELEASE INFORMATION SUGGESTING A PARROT IS ANYWHERE NEAR THE MOST COMMON ANSWER YOU GET WHEN ASKING SOMEONE WHAT THEIR FAVORITE ANIMAL IS? That is bullshit of the tenth degree, there are generations of ridiculous statements that have come before this farce but this is the last fucking straw. I used to work at NASA. I know the codes to the satellites still. I’ve been watching you go about your day in a devil may care attitude as i played Beautiful Disaster by 311 on repeat and prepared my attack on absurd fools such as yourself who try to play with the United States Media System. You don’t do that. That’s like going into your mom’s room at night as a kid because you’re scared of the boogeyman then copping a feel of her bosom. Evil must be stopped and you’re the first on my list, I’m coming for you Jack even if it’s the last thing I do. I’m about an hour out of Fresno and I’m headed southbound fast. No one is around for miles I can tell. just me my gear, my purple Fiat 500 and my IPhone 5C in lime green as I prepare to send this message and return my full attention to the road and your imminent destruction you autistic Walter Cronkite wannabe. Get ready to die I’m sure this has been a long time coming.

Sincerely, Gwen Armani

PS It is now around 9:30p.m. specifically and this is somewhat of an embarrassment but I have to ask for your help I don’t know who else to turn to. As I went to press send and deliver the message a blinding light came from far off in the distance and it got brighter and brighter as we came closer. I then realized I had ventured quite literally onto the train tracks, I guess there’s no way i could have figuratively gone onto the train tracks and leaped to safety as my one true love. my purple fiat 500 burst into a ball of flames and distorted metal. I don’t know what real life situation that would apply to figuratively. Maybe going to the Dentist. I have also realized why there were no cars driving next to me because I have emerged from the debacle in the middle of a chaparral area of California where they have not developed any portion of society. My only means of conveyance is to follow the railroad tracks by foot and hope I only made one wrong turn while sending that email. I’m really in a bind here you know how it is, I mean I was just about to kill you, now the situation I’m in right now is not fair whatsoever, I would like to remind you that I wholeheartedly believe you sir should be killed and left on your beat as a message for any other wayward newsies out to shake things up a bit. But please, send me a reply email, maybe you could send an Uber out here, I’m sure if you find someone with enough compassion like yourself to drive for Uber they will gladly save the day. Well this is Gwen signing off, please respond as soon as possible. I’m out here cold and alone. My only food is an opened nature valley bar with one of the bars missing and the celebratory airplane bottle of Poland’s finest Belvedere I was planning to pour when I had finished murdering you. Which I still plan on doing. Don’t worry. Please begin looking for the Uber driver with the heart of gold immediately I need transportation and and empathetic companion stat.

So back to the present moment, I read this and begin frantically searching my contacts for any well meaning friends who would be interested in providing a pro bono 10 hour Uber ride with a potential murderer so she could get back to her business and finish the hit she had scheduled but then it dawned on me the lack of people I know who actually drive Uber and Francisco was already busy because he got a call from a senior citizen in Maryland who said his soup was too hot and he felt like people were stealing from him and he needed to see a kind face. Not an Uber call but Francisco cant resist a good deed. That man is a saint in a bright red Prius. Then I fell asleep abruptly, I dreamed I was lost in the woods and no one was coming to save me, which woke me up and reminded me of Gwen, now doing the right thing by trying to help a fellow human in need doesn’t discount the homicidal tendencies which leads me to put on my Gore-tex safety suit. Now you get an idea of the target placed on my head daily. It has been every day a new death threat comes in and now I’m supposed to just shove that to the dark corners of my distressed mind and report the damn news? These are the trying times that every reporter has faced. Hopefully i get another email from Gwen or an associate of hers that knew of our relations because i would hate for her to have died by the train tracks on my account. I’d probably have to wait weeks for any confirmation on that, She seemed pretty forward about her plans and her cry for help the least she could do is send a death notice over right before her eternal slumber sets in. It seems like the moral of this story is this, You want to play with the pros you gotta always keep the contact of multiple benevolent Uber drivers in your roladex. The thing that disturbs me the most about today is that I wasn’t able to lend a hand to one of our listeners in need. the streets may be tough and the stories never ending but the one thing the don’t tell you is what hurts the most. And that is the never ending reminder of your failures.

[amazingjackthefactfinder-blog]

(Amazing Jack)

[amazingjackthefactfinder-blog]

It has begun. The blog that will bust the doors wide open.

I’m sure you’ve heard of muck raking and I am not one for buck taking so the buck stops here. I am going out into the world to finally once and for all get to the bottom of all the nonsense and do some cold hard journalism. Pie a la mode style. Meaning i may have a cold creamy gal riding on top of my crisp apples... but watch out she bites. She is one icy B and a half. Nevertheless I will go on to announce that as a promise to my never ending ever growing swarm of listeners I never sacrifice my integrity for a back alley handy and a warm plate of dessert. One other thing I would like to mention is that my theme songs will be extensions of my soul and eventually will amass to form a discography intent on making any record collection obsolete whether it be a slew of Blondie and Barbara Streisand Albums or the record collection owned by Kenny “The Tits” Daffledinger. When asked why they call him “The Tits”, “The Tits” replied “Well Jack, I’m what you could call a connoisseur. I don’t buy nothin’ unless it makes this phrase pop out of my mouth, ‘Oh lawdy lawdy I do declare these be the tits what my eyeballs oogly googly googling at’ I must say that 8 or 9 times a week, and that’s just while I’m out with my grandma.  I am also a certified fan of the female anatomy particularly of the booby area so I’m goin’ for a 25% tranny swap under the hood if you know what I mean.” I reply, “No Kenny, but go on, I am enthralled.” Kenny adamantly exclaims, “Well tell me this now Jack, WHY is it that girls get to have sweater puppies when my apartment complex wouldn’t even let me have a pet rock. WHY is it that man has not yet evolved to lactate? AND WHY have you never just racked on a pair of 36 C donkey pillows and gone with the partial sex change. Aint got shit now Jack where are your answers? Well ill tell you what, my chesticles will never see the light of day with you in the room that much is for sure. These are my Tits. I am The Tits. My tits are the Tits so call me Tits, remember... The one with the bangin butterscotch hard candy nipples.” And that was all “The Tits” was willing to share with us that day he said something about pollen in the air and ran off to get some alkaline water from the water store just adjacent of the senior citizen version of hooters, droopies on Mackeral Blvd.

An introductory message and guarantee of service by The Amazing Jack himself.

This is the Amazing Jack reporting for reporter duty. This is my Manhattan Project. An adventure so death defying and deplorable yet heart warming and soul filling it will shape the fate of the world in the same fashion Chicken soup for the Soul gave you a faster decision on what to read while dropping brown. Remember Heroes live forever. But legends never die. And the hallowed reporters creed states “Never shy away from a task so daunting it seems like trying to floss a lion’s back molar when the lion is suffering from a toothache.” (Reporter Creed: subsection 34N-fi-alpha-4) Danger and a story so juicy you’ll be asking if this is an expose on Wrigley’s Juicy Fruit gum. But thats far from the case this path on which we are about to embark is something much more life threatening and repulsive. And we reporters get off to that shit. So to recap Heroes forever, legends immortal. Reporters? They just inject the Novocaine and root canal that overgrown house cat till our restless minds are at peace once more.

With great power does not come great responsibility in reality alongside great power comes manslaughter government corruption and if youre lucky a sweet chopper with a wicked amount of horsies pumpin through the engine. All of which I have leads on and the resulting stories will eventually put your ass where your hat goes with the shistorm of raw unfiltered news that comes in your ears and plops its balls on your favorite addition of home and garden. “Ah hell no not my dream house ‘zine, it’ll be weeks until the next edition, I’m going to march on Washington” You’ll cry as you rally your multiracial family and tell them the news you just heard. But it will be too late old news is cold news so go drink a cold brew and wait for the next delightfully painful kick to the groin that we call current events.

With vengeance,

The Amazing Jack

Legal Disclaimer

(The Amazing Jack is not a registered trademark and is not held down by any one career. Journalistic skills may be lacking as The Amazing Jack is mainly shoe salesman at a shoe store in Southern California, cannot guarantee the sole proprietor  ownership of this title: The Amazing Jack, Amazing is a subjective term, Jack  may possibly not astonish or excite you, Call your doctor if you experience dry heaves or scabies, toxic chemicals have been used in the production of this blog, all animals may seem hurt but realistically that female miniature pincer was just being a little bitch that day, vengeance may fall upon you by someone other than The Amazing Jack and in such cases, swift blows to the kidneys and spleen have been experienced, Warning do not repeat anything you have read on this blog or listened to in our respective fact finding missions, this is of course if you care whatsoever about your social status or the way people rate your intelligence, otherwise take your “given up sweat pants” out of there secret hiding place and binge on all of The Amazing Jack’s content, talk excessively about obscure insider information, and purchase any and all of our non explosive merchandise [Warning product Amazing Jack DIY Dynamite assault charges mislabeled DIY Dynamite Dance Party and military grade explosives were sold in children’s activity aisles all across 8 countries including the US  Mexico and Many Nordic locations.  All sales are final, yes, even for merchandise our LLC charged to any stolen credit card you left in our flagship store/roller derby rink, The owner will find a place for the 17 7XL Amazing Jack Daygo Lyfestyle Signature Tube Top Wife beater as it is illegal in all 50 states and us Territories to throw away materials rated with exceedingly high uranium and lead content. [This is a specific but public message about your “stolen” credit card, we are holding a VISA Platinum credit card for Gino Togenclap who claims we here at the The Amazing Jack Production Team have been misusing his identity. This ungrateful piece of filth lives on 3853 Hermdiddle Coast Way, Sweet Lips, Tennessee 38340 Gino tends to be home in the mornings and evenings so for all you scavengers out there only case his residence at this time don’t get those sticky fingers just yet. Use excessive force if necessary to acquire Mr. Togenclap’s  valuables and burn his family photos for good measure. Gino we don’t regret to inform you the new season of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt has come out on streaming networks but our office has been swamped with murky mud water and what looks like alligators and air boat parts so the mail people don’t pick up our packages anymore, this means we must continue our subscription in your name to hulu, nfl sunday ticket, netflix, amazon prime, Omaha steak delivery, the office wide Disneyland yearly passes we each got as bonuses last quarter, also our CFO Tommy Rimshot was saying he was experiencing some mild to sever spinal pain so we had you hook him up with the deluxe weekly package down at Attitude Adjustment, it’s that new chiropractor that took the idea of being sarcastically really mean and bad at his job like the folks down at dicks last resort, Tommy goes down there first thing they do is just hit him with a baseball bat right below his 7 cervical spine vertebrae and they fracture his hole spinal column, then they yell just kidding! Tommy was laughing so hard he was screaming in pain, 6 months of physical therapy with a lifetime of Oxycontin and he keeps saying he cant believe how dedicated the employees are to providing a comical and impacting experience for every customer, he has no idea how they knew he didn’t have insurance and would have to pay out of pocket, well we just put it on your card, you’ve got to try it out Gino, maybe when you get your credit card back, which I highly doubt will be any time this winter, possibly 2019. I can get you a good referral have em fuck up your back real good then fix it, That’s what we do to all of our friends and associates who “Talk too much” anyway this is meant to be a legal document that will hold up in court I better hold all the fraud extortion robbery and forgery chitchat for when i face time you, gotta jet talk to you soon Big G]  Remember we also have a you break it you buy it policy on The Amazing Jack’s patented mustache If you break it you must pay the yearly $89,000 disabled severance from mustache package and if The Amazing Jack may happen to pass away from a sudden spelunking accident, act of nature, act of God, or point blank bullet wound to the facial area after severance from said official patented Amazing Jack Mustache the person/person’s responsible must pay out The Amazing Life Insurance policy Jack took out at age 26. Which is $5,000,000 to each of his 4 children and $800,000 to his pet brown bear to cover room and board along with the domesticated brown bear’s stamp collecting habit.)

Sincerely,

Ron Gotabitabeli

Head of Amazing Jack’s Crackpot Legal Defense Squadron (trademark)