They call me Juke.

      I was thinking, and that was not good:

My wife left me.
She took my son.
She got a five-year restraining order against me.
I was in rehab at Salvation Army when my father died.
I didn’t know he was coming down with Alzheimer’s.
So my cousin Dimas was living there with my father when my father amended his will.
My fathers home… my home, was sold.
No one was there for me when I got out of rehab.


     Then the phone rang, and that was not good:

      Thank God, hello!  It’s me!  Dimas! Your cousin!  No, please don’t hang up!  They’re going to kill me!

      “Dimas?!  What?!  Who?  Where the fuck are you, you asshole?”

      Juke!  You’re my family!  They’ll kill me!  I’m in the Philippines!

      “So that’s where you ran with my inheritance, you fuck! You fucked me good, good ol’ Dumbass Dimas!  Do you know where I have to live now?”

      Listen to me!  They kidnapped me!  Islamic rebels.  Islamic jihadists, Juke.

      “So tell me, Dumbass Dimas: how do Islamic rebels treat Jews in the Philippines?”

      Juke!  For God’s sake!  They’re the Ansar al-Khilafah!  They’ll do it!  They’ll kill me!

      “Unless what?”

      Juke!  Please!  Help me!  I’m sorry, Bro’!  They want money!  $200,000!

      ”Oh.  Sorry, Bro’.  You have the wrong number.”

      Help me.

      “Are you crying?”


      “Tell me: wasn’t $200,000 about as much as  my  inheritance should have been?”


      “Well, I’ll tell ya, I sure wish I had my $200,000.  I’d pay them, alright. To cut your balls off!”

      Please, I’m family, Juke, forgive me, I was wrong, what I did to you, I know that now, please, they’re getting agitated, they just want the ( Owww, fuck!!) money!

      “I know how they feel.”

     They just cut my face!!

      “By the way, Bro’, I now live in a moldy butt-hole house in a drug-infested neighborhood.  Thanks for asking, Bro’.”

      Help me.

      “Listen.  When I was at the Salvation Army rehab I didn’t tell anyone that I didn’t buy their God.  So I had to ‘Juke’ them just so I could stay in that place.”

      What.. what are you talking about?

      “Just catching up, Bro’.  How have you been otherwise?”

      Juky.  Juky.

      “Dumbass, Dimas. Where is what’s left of my inheritance?”

      It..it’s…it’s gone, Juky.

      My, my, my.  That must have been a lot of sex tours, Dumbass Dimas.  Too bad.  Otherwise you could’ve lived there forever in the Philippines, like a king.”

      Juky.  Maybe you’ve got to get a loan against your house.  These jihadists…

      “Bro’, my house isn’t worth 200,000 dollars.  It might be worth 200,000 cockroaches.  Tell your ‘Jee-hard-ons’ I could do $666.”


      “The Salvation Army told me all about ‘666’.  The Devil’s address or something.  You’re financing with the Devil now, Dumbass ol’ Bro.”

      How can you joke?  Juky, I’m begging you!  I can’t tell them $666!  Damn you!  You’re still pulling wings off of butterflies.  Wait!  I didn’t mean that.  I didn’t!

      “I’m hurt, Bro’.  You think you’re a butterfly?”

      Ahhhhh!  Ahhhhhhh!  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

      “You’re a rat in a trap and I’m a snake.”


      “Oh, he did?  Then you’d better put me on Speaker.”

      God!  Help me!  Ahhhhhhhhhhh!

      “Right now I’m your God.  And I am a vengeful God.  And just like our own vengeful God, I’m hanging up on you.”





      Well, don’t worry.

      Apparently the Armed Forces of the Philippines rescued him.

I’ve heard that Dumbass Dimas is back in the ‘States, and that’s not good.








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