I don’t know Jack.

In fact, I’d never heard of Jack until yesterday when I glossed over an article, a personality piece, in our local paper (yeah, I STILL read a newspaper. what’s WRONG with me?)

And then Jack popped up again in a commercial tonight while Miss Carol was making dinner and I was hanging out doing nothing, so I commented on all the sudden Jack sightings.

Who is that dude, I said. He looks like a wrinkly Crocodile Dundee, I said.

Miss Carol paused and stared at the ceiling, shaking her head sadly and said, Jack Hanna’s huge.

Really? I said. Hmm.

I read something in yesterday’s paper but I didn’t really pay much attention ’cause it looked like it was geared to little kids wanting to pet snakes and stuff, I said, guzzling a beer.

Miss Carol stopped staring at the ceiling and gave me one of those looks that just screams SHUT THE FUCK UP.

So I did, briefly.

Then I said- like I said, it was just little kid stuff.

Tug heard that and sat up and said, I LOVE little kids. They taste just like chicken, he said.

Miss Carol and me looked at him and I said, oh no you DIDN’T.

Tug laid back down, panting and grinning and I turned back to not helping Miss Carol thinking it was over when Tug mumbled, hell, they can’t even run very fast in their stupid diapers.

One response to “Jack.

  1. Besides being the name of my ex-husband ~ but we aren’t going there…isn’t Jack Hanna the guy that always has critters crawling all over him when you see him on television. I think he had something at Busch Gardens once upon a time too.

    Said it before…coolest dogs ever.

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