A Note from the Pocket of Jacques

March 14, 2002

From the coat pocket of Jacques:

Greetings girl and/or sexually mature older woman,

I am most likely handing this note to you in order to diffuse the awkwardness of the moment. This note was designed as a precautionary measure in the event that I attempt an amorous advance upon a member of the female persuasion, yet fumble and foul it up.

Unless, of course, someone found this note picking my pockets in which case (if you’re a girl... or a very handsome guy) my e-mail is jacques@universaloddities.com and I’m an Aquarius.

What follows are a list of “sexual enticement” (or pickup) lines I would most likely have attempted to pretend to compose in the passionate heat of the moment. Chances are I was attempting a variation on one or the other with you. Perhaps improvised in multiple combination for maximum sexual effect.

Currently, the lines presented are on heavy rotation for the winter of 2002:

“Hey baby, I hope the government doesn’t file an antitrust lawsuit against you because it seems to me that you’ve cornered the market on sexy.” [The word “beautiful” may have been substituted for the word “sexy” upon a more studious gauging of the situation.]

“You’re the female equivalent of the Parthenon, an edifice of beauty... [To which may be added, if deemed appropriate “that had the shit blown out of it by the Turks in 1687 when they decided to stuff you with gunpowder.”] [An alternate possibility may have included “You’re the female equivalent of the Eiffel tower, an edifice of sexy.”]

“If you’re Greek, you must certainly be one of the 7 wonders of the Greek world... baby. If you’re Greek, that is.”

“Rome wasn’t built in a day, but that ass of yours... wow!”

[In the event that you’re Adolf Hitler’s granddaughter, chances are I would have used the following:] “The master race never looked so good.”

[In the event that you’re Heinrich Himmler’s granddaughter, chances are I would have used the following:] “Baby, you’ve won over the Gestapo of my heart.”

[In the event that I am uncertain as to whether or not your are in fact Heinrich Himmler’s granddaughter, chances are I would have used the following:] “Hey baby... are you Heinrich Himmler’s granddaughter?... Sexy...”

As you are reading this letter, I am no doubt attempting to look down your blouse, or place a hand upon your butt so gradually that you wouldn’t even notice it. In the likely event that I am to fumble or am too shy to do that, then at least be flattered in knowing that I had at least attempted it. And know that I would have acted all surprised and exclaimed “what’s that doing there?!” when you’d realized it.

At least I’m imagining my hand on your butt. Or imagining someone else’s hand on your butt and feeling jealous about it. Unless I’m simply too shy and embarrassed to imagine a hand on your butt (which may, in fact, be the case).

But I simply ask you to keep this in mind: I have a hand, and you have a butt.

A Treatise on Dating and Seduction

Psychologically, girls occasionally believe themselves in control over their choice of potential mate. Recent studies I’ve conducted though seem to indicate some exceptions.

The problem with certain men is that they simply lack the confidence of “line delivery”. While a girl might mistakenly convince herself that she is in control of the situation with any given sampling of the male sex pool, it’s the male with confidence who is so easily able to woo her. A man’s looks are actually of little importance. All a man must do is continuously sling brilliantly worded and exceptionally timed lines at them with perfectly confident delivery. Perhaps take them off guard. And then, simply sweep them off their feet. Under such circumstances, the entire pool of female humans becomes vulnerable to the aforementioned examples of genetic conquest.

To use a video game analogy, it is as if the male “sexual genius” is simply in possession of the “cheat codes” to every woman’s heart. I’ve seen as much happen. Perhaps their “male brilliance” works in conjunction with a chemical oil they secrete through the skin that draws women into its gooey snare. Nevertheless, this power over women exists, and I have most surely borne witness to it.

As I see it, it will only be a matter for adapting my perfectly worded pickup scenarios with the brilliant comic timing of a vaudevillian genius.

Most Convincing Reasons to Date Jacques

1) He’s lovable and cuddly, and he smells like peaches.

2) He has a doctorate*.

3) He has a hand, and you have a butt.

Jacques himself is property of the Disney Corporation. No unauthorized duplication is allowable without the express written permission of the Disney Corporation and Donald (Fucking) Duck. (That’s what you get for playing poker with experienced cartoon characters. Donald Duck has a fake, hollow wooden leg you know. He uses it to store cards and hooch, the bastard.)

*Jacques acquired his doctorate of meat and meat related studies at Jacques University, a private institution.