I was in a jolly good mood one summery day (it was either June or July) so I decided to journey over to the local juke joint where it's always so jam-packed and jumpin' when they hold the all-star jazzman's jam session that the joists are jolting. Not a snobby place for the jet-set, there I can just wear jeans and a simple jersey and join up with my friends with whom I can jocularly josh in our own special jive jargon while sipping my mint julep & Jamaican rum.

After all, it's hard nowadays to remain jovial and not develop a jaundiced world view. You have jealous junior executives jockeying for your job in the corporate jungle and crazy jerks out on the street willing to joust with you over nothing. Then to make you feel more jaded, there's the financial news in the Wall Street Journal, joyful one minute then jarring the next, indicating an unpredictable Jekyll and Hyde kind of economy about as stable as a bowlful of jello. While juggling all that, you turn to the next page and read about extremists declaring jihad on the US and the Jewish state while plotting to blow up jet planes and now it seems for sure the world is one big jumbled up jigsaw puzzle and my jeremaid is justified.

So anyway, everything was jim-dandy while I'm there jesting with my pals as we engage in all manner of japery. I was heading to the john when Cupid suddenly hit me with not an arrow but a javelin! Wham! I knew in a jiffy she was trouble, a Jezebel and no Joan of Arc. Redolent of jasmine, with jet black hair, bedecked with jingling jade and jasper jewels, and with her jiggling jumbo jugs (which could be juxtaposed with Jenna Jameson's) jutting out so prominently, any Joe Blow would turn into a moral jellyfish. I downed a jigger of Jack Daniels to calm my jitters and said hello. We jibed well enough that we went to the adjacent Joe's cafe where we enjoyed a quiet cup of java and indulged in jamoca ice cream sprinkled with jimmies and jujubes. After we engaged in the usual jejune small-talk, she jotted down her name JoJo along with her phone number. I felt jubilant like I had hit the jackpot confident that I had that rare 'je nais sais quoi' women respond to until the next day when I called the number and it was from the Jack-In-The-Box restaurant. I felt like such a jughead for allowing myself to be jilted by this sly jackal that at this juncture I started to wonder if I was jinxed.

When I'm bummed out I get a jones for junk-food so I drove to the store to get my fix of jellyrolls, Jif, Jax, and jalapeno flavored Slim Jim beef jerky sticks. I'm walking back to my Jeep when some jacked-up junkie juvenile delinquents jump me while jerking their jagged-edged jack-knives at me. I was thinking "Oh Jesus! Jeepers Creepers! The jig is up. It's Judgement Day for me before Jehovah, Jupiter, or Whoever" but luckily, they missed my jugular and merely sliced up my protective jute jacket. They grabbed my keys jangling from my pocket and roared off for a joyride. I knew they wouldn't get far since that jalopy really belonged in a junkyard. Just the other day the kindly janitor in my building had lent me his jumper cables to juice up the battery when it wouldn't turn over.

So sick and tired of being jerked around that I didn't even care if I put my life in jeopardy, I bolted after them like a jackrabbit with jet propulsion. They jeered at me as I gained ground on them like some unstoppable juggernaut and avoiding a potential traffic jam ahead, they turned into Jellystone (not Jurassic) Park. At the junction of where the junipers meet the jonquils they rammed smack into the big Joshua tree. As they spilled out of the vehicle, I attacked the leader like a jackhammer with joint-shattering jaw-breaking jabs utilizing deadly Japanese jujitsu (a form of judo). Some jocks in training from the Jacksonville Jaguars who were jogging in the park and doing their jumping jacks helped me out by jostling the rest of them to the ground until the Johnny-come-lately cops finally arrived. Some good jakes from the fire department, happy they didn't have to use the jaws of life, doused the small car fire.

Since in my jurisdiction the judge and jury are no joke, acting more like a military junta jettisoning off any John or Jane Doe for a jaunt in jail for just jaywalking, these jackasses got hard time. Then I had to joggle my memory a bit but....by Jove if I didn't see them leading away JoJo in an orange jumpsuit as well! Apparently she was jailbait and had been soliciting would-be Johns down at the wharf by the jetty. So now I felt everything had jelled coming full circle and justice had prevailed!


Author Jesse Jackson was jetted off to a press junket at a jamboree in Jefferson City but since the people were too busy jocosely jitterbugging, doing triple time jigs, jamming Cajun jambalaya down their throats, and jibber-jabbering so loud their jowls must have hurt, he had to judiciously exhibit the patience of Job and just write it off and move on to Juneau.

In a recent survey, the average Jack-of-all-trades, including those with journeyman's licenses, found carving out a Jack-O'-Lantern more difficult than even installing a Jacuzzi.

In pursuing his 'joie-de-vivre' jillionaire Red Sox owner John Henry relies heavily on his Johnny-on-the-spot butler Jeeves who just today had this itinerary:

7 A.M. Like a regular Johnny Appleseed cared for the garden and watered the plants in the huge jardinieres on the porch.

8 A.M. Served him his breakfast of fresh fruit...but julienee style of course...with Monterrey Jack cheese on the side.

9 A.M. Made sure he had a jarful of jellybeans on the desk in time for conference call he dutifully arranged with all joint-venture partners.

11 A.M. Dressed him in jodhpurs and whisked him off in the Jaguar to the ranch for a horseback riding lesson.

12 P.M. Got him to the arena for his jai-alai lesson as well.

1 P.M. Booked his master's flight from JFK Airport to Jacksonville, the jumping off point for a whirlwind worldwide vacation in January to avoid Jack Frost.

2 P.M. Got him to the Sox/Blue Jays baseball game at Fenway

3 P.M. Repaired a broken door jamb back at the mansion, crazy-glued back together a broken cookie jar, hopped over to the vet with John Jr's sick pet jerboa, and bought John Jr. a new joystick on the way back.

4 P.M. Spent time with John Jr. so he wouldn't grow up to be Jack the Ripper, Jesse James, or Jason from the slasher films by first playing jacks with him and next showing him how to train properly with jump rope and shoot a jump shot like Michael Jordan

5 P.M. Sorted through all Mr. Henry's mail weeding out the junk mail while monitoring breaking world news to report to him....especially items involving the Joint Chiefs of Staff or joint resolutions of Congress

6 P.M. By Jingo! Got back to Fenway just in time to pick up the boss

7 P.M. After getting boss back home safely, Jeeves relaxed and became a regular Joe Six Pack, unwinding with John Barleycorn

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