Jack Kukoda

Hurrah, my roommate and good friend returned from San Francisco last night. He was ostensibly there with his girlfriend to visit some friends. I say ‘ostensibly’ because my roommate has been dating her for two months now and I’ve still yet to meet her. Every time I suggest we get together, my roommate has some lame-ass excuse like, “We can’t make it to your Mortal Kombat tournament” or “That’s a nice offer, but I don’t think my girlfriend wants to get high with you and watch the History Channel all day.”

At this point, I’m pretty sure that she doesn’t exist. Not like my girlfriend, who definitely exists. Her name is Samantha Rocketship and she’s a tube top model. The best thing about Samantha is that she invites me to all her photo shoots and I get to watch her model tube tops. Sometimes, the craft service people let me eat some bagels and one time we got a bunch of free tube tops out of the deal. Score!

I realize not everyone can be as lucky as me in the romance department, which is why I don’t call my roommate on the fact that his girlfriend clearly does not exist, I keep telling him that I can introduce him to some Samantha’s friends, who are hot, hot models/racecar drivers, but he always refuses. I guess some men are threatened by that type of woman.

All right, I’ve got to get going. Samantha wants me to give her a ride to the tattoo parlor so she can my name tattooed on her body. Again!