The Path Is Short, The Way Is Wide

I’ve been looking at the world wrong for my entire life.


Jen Splashes Jesse’s Face With Her Drink While Jamming To Neil Diamond


It has taken me so long to contribute this story because I had to wait until it actually didn’t happen before I submitted it. Now, since I live by the NAP and I don’t like pain, I did not actually punch Jesse Ventura, but as a female I have always wanted to do one of those splashing a dramatic throwing my drink in his face things you see in the movies often. I don’t know if it counts, but here goes…

I wasn’t completely sober when the story began. I had had just a couple, but a couple is more than enough for me. It was a damp, chilly autumn night, the type of night perfect for a hoodie and walk in the woods. I was minding my own business, I wasn’t hurting anyone, just casually strolling towards the woods. Then I heard the music. I have always had a bit of a problem with the music, I mean… It’s not like I can just not listen… I heard it, it was saying ‘Come on babe, follow me…. I’m the pied piper, trust in me…’

Really, what’s a girl to do in such a situation? I followed the music right into a smoky hole in the wall pub in some back alley before the trail I usually use to take to the woods. No one seemed to notice my entrance, which pleased me…. That meant no one would bother me as I got comfortable by the jukebox…. Or at least that’s what I thought….

As I frantically searched my pockets for quarters so I could play a song for whoever was kind enough to play Pied Piper for me (all songs are played for me in my head) I felt someone tap on my shoulder as he said,

“Excuse me, miss…”

I knew that voice. I would have known it anywhere. Jesse. Ventura. My arch nemesis.

“Can I help you?” I asked as I turned around slowly to face him.

“What do you know about Area 51?” He demanded.

I knew this day would come. I had information on Area 51 that he wanted and he knew it.

“I’m sorry, do you think you could possibly refrain from talking over the music, I’m trying to get lost here…” I replied.

“Fine, let’s sit down, get a drink and wait for this song to be over and then you can tell me. I need to know what you know” He said.

I reluctantly agreed…. Only to get him to be quiet for a few minutes.

We sat for a while and I pretended I was jamming with my friends. After a few songs went by he started in again…

“What is it?” He demanded. “What do you know?”

I sighed, and tried to think of a polite way to say
“You can’t handle what I know.”

I started beating around the bush and he slammed his fist down on the table,

“Don’t play dumb innocent girl with me….” He yelled. “I know you know something.”

I was about ready to get up and walk out when Neil Diamond came on the jukebox and started singing Kentucky Woman, I don’t like it very much when people aren’t quiet for that one. I tried telling him that, I tried telling him to let me listen to Neil and then I would proceed but he kept yelling….imagine that…. Yelling over Neil Diamond….

It was more than I could handle. Only one person in the whole world would think their voice is more important than Neil Diamond and that would be Jesse Ventura, and I was sitting right across from him as he ruined Kentucky Woman for me. How in the world am I supposed to know if I really want to be a Kentucky Woman while Jesse Ventura is yelling at me over the song?

I grabbed my drink, lifted it up as though I was going to take a drink but splashed it right in his eyes instead. It was a movie perfect scene and as he yelled in confusion I grabbed my sweatshirt and ran out of there as quick as I could with my secret knowledge on Area 51 still a secret only I know. I ran to the woods as fast as I could and only looked back once to see him fall over as he chased after me.

I should have stayed home that night; instead I threw my drink in Jesse Ventura’s face, almost spilled my secret on Area 51, jammed to Pied Piper, and set Jesse straight on Neil Diamond.


Many Garcia told me a story on September 19 of this year:

I punched Jesse Ventura when I was 15.
I was in a mall, wasting time feeling miserable with my friends, looking all the vanity and consumerism of the unlearned people, when Jesse Ventura, dressed as a mariachi, went out of a mexican restaurant where he was playing the guitarrón in the band, and looking at me he said that my mom was so fat that the last time she farted, she destroyed a five city and the tons of ash and dust raised 30,000 feet and expanded through the whole atmosphere, blocking Sun’s light and heat and causing a global ice age. Naturally, I took offense, and after approaching in style and calmly removing my silky glove I summoned all my manliness to punch him right in the chin, where I left engraved a fleur-de-lis mark from my ring and that is proof of what I’m saying. Pushing himself up with his hands and recovering verticality he said “fair enough”, and left.