Gang, you may find this hard to believe, but when Mista J is invited to a party, he is NOT the life of it. Far from it. Mista J finds a comfortable spot, not too close to the snacks, so it’s an effort to get them, so he doesn’t nervous eat all of them.
Hopefully, it’s close to someone I know, or there are people I know (honestly, the odds of you getting me to a party that I only know one or two people is very low), and I will sit there quietly, and listen to the music, or hopefully the TV is on, and someone has turned on the subtitles.
I’m not saying that I am an introvert, but surprisingly, I am pretty far from being called an extrovert. My friends laugh when I say this, or when I tell them I am shy, but that’s because I know them, I’m a chatterbox around them.
Now, even if I am around people I know, I am often quiet too. People need audiences. Most people don’t tell a story well, so the quieter you are, the quicker it is over. When I was a co host on My Worst Holiday (the funny years), you would be amazed at how many stories we had to pretend was funny, because either they didn’t know how to tell it, or it wasn’t all that interesting in the first place, and they wanted to be on a podcast.
As a wallflower, if you sit quiet enough, you can see and hear some amazing things. You can see who’s drinking twice as fast. You can see who is assaulting the snacks. You can hear some tidbits of gossip if you are inclined. You can see who has beef with other people. It is almost as good as television. I was once hungover at a kids birthday party, and saw a little girl slap the birthday boy. Good times. (Parent mode kicked in, I asked her if she was raised in a barn, they left shortly after. I didn’t like them anyway)
The thing is, most people dream of being the life of a party. They want to make people laugh, have a good time, have a few drinks, eat some good food. I’m not going to lie, when I was younger, I had those aspirations. I accomplished it to. You know what it is…hard work.
It became a chore going to get-togethers, because when it was slow, everyone is looking at you to entertain. When you see the same people at gatherings, you can’t tell the same stories over and over. It gets boring. I get bored. I’m boring.
If you’re lucky, someone starts to step up, and they become the go to comedian. They tell the stories. They get chuckles. Sometimes you add salt and pepper to their dish. Sometimes you quietly listen, laugh if its funny, fake smile if it is not, and not have to cook.
It’s really okay to be a wallflower. You don’t have to skip parties because you feel you have to be “on”. If that is your bag, and you feel you have to prove you are the funniest person there, that’s great too. (chances are you are not) Don’t stress it. There are roles for everyone, and sometimes sitting quietly, watching the room, is the best role of all. It took me a long time to learn this, and even longer to become comfortable with this.
You guys know where to find me…apparently sitting on a couch somewhere, checking out asses. Or if that doesn’t work, try Twitter or IG @jaycanchu. Or better yet, go back, and find the K Files, or Shootin’ the Sith, or Colton’s releases, or Eli’s history of Meme’s…face it, any of that is better than my crap. And since you are Coronatined, Spoiler Country has 300 episodes to go thru, and you can actually hear my voice on one. I’m not saying which one, because I have forgotten, but it’s there and unlistenable to. Mike Peacock’s Misery Point Radio is always quality, and I already mentioned Robert’s, and he is often lucky he gets one plug because he posts shit that annoys me.
All complaints and cock pics go to @XKenricX. All extra money can go to their patreon If I thought my art was good enough, I’d offer it at a level, but you can check it out on my IG.
As for the joke in the title…
Jay was born and raised within a 30 mile radius of Ottawa IL, home of Scotty Bowers and a guy who was in soap operas. His family was Catholic, somewhat filled with ’50 Ideals and conservatism, which they attempted to pass down, and lifetime Democrats.
Jay am none of that nonsense, though he is probably more liberal in social views than most of them. He's tattooed, has two wonderful boys who are both talented, one a musician, the other designing games. He have two ex wives that he still get along with. Jay have two cats (Chloe and Panda Lucifer) who are ambivalent towards Jay's existence unless wet food is involved.
Previously, Jay was the cohost of My Worst Holiday, and left on good terms but will still fill in on occasion. He now write nonsense articles about whatever grabs his fancy, from old Universal Monster movies, to lunch health, to lists that get stuck in deep in his head and has to purge them.
Jay is pretty sure he is allowed to hang around because he have watched a LOT of Burt Reynolds movies. (This is true)