Jason - Pitch

Jerry’s Magic Emporium

A tough, sometimes terrifying, former special forces soldier, with a love of military discipline, high risk situations and a dark sense of humor, takes over an old, failing game and hobby store from his late little brother, Jerry, who he had a complex relationship with, and discovers a collection of lovable misfits who work at and hang out at the store and together they work as a reluctant team to save the business and in the process, they discover themselves and Jerry’s brother not only finds out a little bit about the brother he had lost, but he finds a new family.

Jason - protest

It’s a long night’s awaitin’ them

Oh, what have you done, my mighty God?
Oh, what have you done, to my darling young ones?
They've shuffled on the side of two open caskets
They've walked and they've crawled as four broken strangers
They've stood in the middle of six sad classrooms
They've been out in front of the other grieved daughters
They've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard
And it's a long, and it's a long, it's a long, and it's a long
And It’s a long night’s awaitin’ them

Oh, what did you show, my mighty God?
Oh, what did you show, to my darling young ones?
They saw a new pressed joy and despairs all consume it
They saw a seat at their wedding with nobody on it
They saw a black yard where people kept huggin’
They saw a room full of men with their uniforms pressed
They saw a white cover draped over their mother
They saw ten thousand mourners whose hearts were all broken
They saw hope in snapshots in the hands of young children
And it's a long, and it's a long, it's a long, it's a long
And It’s a long night’s awaitin’ them

And what did you say, my mighty God?
And what did you say, to my darling young ones?
They heard the sound of a thunder, a trumpet from heaven
Heard the roar of a wave that would drown their whole world
Heard themselves hurtin’, They heard many people laughin'
Heard the song of the pastor who spoke when they couldn’t
Heard the sound of their dad who cried on the front porch
And it's a long, and it's a long, it's a long, it's a long
And It’s a long night’s awaitin’ them

Oh, who did they meet, my mighty God?
Who did you bring, to my darling young ones?
They met a young child who drew them a rainbow
They met a woman who lost a father
They met a young woman who offered no comfort
They met a young girl, she gave them her tears
They met one man who thought he was wise
They met another man who was searching for answers
And it's a long, it's a long, it's a long, it's a long
It’s a long night’s awaitin’ them

Oh, what'll you do now, my mighty God?
Oh, what'll you do now, to my darling young ones?
They’re awaitin' the sun but the night starts a-fallin'
They'll sail to the depths of the deepest black trenches
Where the council is many but their heads are all empty
Where the phrases of poison are drownin’ their voices
Where the home of their birth becomes the dim lonely prison
Where the executioner's face is covered in scripture
Where hunger is sated, but their bellies turn bitter
Where black is the ocean, where days have a number
And They'll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it
And reflect it from their faces so all souls can see it
Then I'll stand by that ocean until I start sinkin'
But you know my protest well before I start cryin'
And it's a long, it's a long, it's a long, it's a long
It’s a long night’s awaitin’ me

Justin - Protest Song

Best Think Twice, We Ain’t All Right

We likely ought to stop to figure why, babe,We’re in this mess that we’re in now.
Yeah we mighten ought to stop to figure why, babe,
‘fore we make it worse somehow.
When that newsman crows at the break of dawn,
Might do ya’ better if the set’s not on,
But we’re the reason that he’s so far gone;
Best think twice, we ain’t all right.

We probably ought to try to shine some light, bud,
Try and change the common mode.
Yeah we probably ought to try to shine some light, bud,
And leave this dark side of the road.
We know that darkness cannot dark dispel,
Yet hate fightin' hate is what we do so well,
Feudin’ and cussin’ on this slow path to hell;
Best think twice, we ain’t all right.

And there ain’t no use in callin’ all these names, pal,
Like we’ve always done before.
No there ain’t no use in callin all these names, pal,
No one’s listenin’ anymore.
You call this one stupid and that one scum,
An' ask them to the table; you think they’ll come?
We fight over grain while we’re passing out crumbs;
Best think twice, we ain’t all right.

We’re all on the same messed up road, bud,
But to hear it, you’d never tell.
‘Cause we ain’t got a good word to share, pal,
Or a cool cup from the well.
Might be if we were a touch more kind,
Give more from our hearts and less of our minds,
Might start makin' these some better times;
Best think twice, we ain’t all right.

Jason - Trivial

Col. Jessup's Battle at Home

You can't handle the tube! Son, we live in a world that has rules. And those rules have to be guarded by men with a solid sense of order. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Mr. Squeeze the Middle? I have a greater understanding than you can possibly fathom. You weep for the Colgate pump and you curse the thought of baking soda. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that Colgate pump, while efficient, destroys the order of things. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, restores that order...You don't want the tube. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me enforcing those rules. You need me to bring order. 
I use words like squeeze, from, bottom...I use these words as the backbone to a life spent dispensing perfection. You use 'em as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a boy who brushes and flosses under the blanket of the very order I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide it! I'd rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up that tube and fix it.

Justin - Toilet Paper Monologue

Can you help me? Hmm, that is a bit of a question. Can you? I don’t know if you can help me or not; I don’t your skill set or knowledge base.

Here’s the problem, I’ve been standing here staring at the ridiculous amount of choices in toilet paper for the last twenty-three minutes and I am no closer to a decision than when I came in here. I remember going to the store with my mom when I was a kid and I am pretty sure there was like three types of toilet paper. There are now nine types of Charmin. Nine, right here on your shelf, nine. What is that? Are our various sphincter needs so diverse that we need this many options? Is this a matter of wiping styles or a matter of various metabolisms or diet? I’m curious because maybe I’ve been using my paper the wrong way or using the wrong paper for the job. I can tell by your expression that we are out of your expertise, that red vest didn’t come with training in personal care product engineering, so let’s assume it is simply a matter of preference and move on.

 So you have Ultra soft. No thanks; that stuff just shreds and pills. You need to wipe after you wipe. This seems like a reactionary response to the old John Wayne toilet paper. I get you don’t want sandpaper, but this is too far the other way. I just want a happy medium.

Now ultra-strong: the sound of that alone scares me. I mean I want strong toilet paper, single ply is completely out of the question (I was using single ply once and I hadn’t trimmed my nails in a while and, well, without being too improper, there was scraping,) but do I need Ultra strong? Have you seen this commercial where they wet this stuff and lift up weights with it? That seems like it was designed for something other than what I intend to use it for. Are there really jobs that people are doing with this that requires that level of tensile strength? If you need something that tough, use a paper towel.

Who decided we needed mega rolls? I get it; twice as much toilet paper means you have half the chance that the last guy left you stranded. What I see though is twenty pounds of soaking mess when my kid drops a whole roll in the toilet because the damned thing will not fit on the roll dispenser and they can’t see why balancing it on top of the roller directly over a bowl of water is a bad idea. Actually, they do that with normal size rolls that will fit on the dispenser; children are awful. They are also the reason I have to buy toilet paper so often, beyond dropping the roll; you’d think they were eating the stuff. The worst.

What’s this? Sensitive, with lotion? You have got to be kidding. I got blindsided once by one of those Puffs with lotion, it felt like I’d rubbed a piece of bacon on my nose. I can only imagine the pleasant feeling of walking around with my crack greased. Ugh. How long do you think it took them to find the balance between “this tissue contains lotion” and “this tissue feels like it was previously used?” I’m thinking it’s a fine line and one I would prefer to stay far away from entirely, especially when we are dealing with down there and not my face.

I mean, if you’re going to use TP with lotion, you might as well go for these flushable wet wipes. Also not my cup of tea. When one of my kids was in diapers I bought some mango scented wipes, it was horrible. Again, who thinks this is a good idea? Now the scent of mango is permanently tied to dirty diapers. It’s not like the scent covers up the smell of baby poop. It’s like those freshener sprays that just mix with whatever foul odor you’re trying to kill. We had one we called “shinilla” because after spraying it smelled like vanilla and...Well, you get it.

Is there no such thing as regular toilet paper anymore? How hard should it be to select a product to remove excrement from my backside? How many options should we have for wiping ours butts? Our grandparents used a page out of the Sears and Roebuck catalogue that was shipped to their houses for free; why am I trying so hard to spend money on something for this purpose? WHY?

Never mind, you can’t help me. I’m going to the dollar store where they have one type of toilet paper. If the kids drop one of those in the toilet, I’m out a quarter, no big deal.

Justin - First Car

My heart knows this is just how freedom feels
(Though this was not the car I’d hoped to drive:)
Gears shifting, fairly flying low on wheels.
 
I searched the whole lot, looking for their deals;
I knew that I could only put down five.
My heart knows this is just how freedom feels.
 
Playing cool will not my want conceal,
To unchain soul, spread wings and come alive,
Gears shifting, fairly flying low on wheels.
 
And if this auto does not match ideals,
It matters not nor blocks hope to contrive;
My heart knows this is just how freedom feels.
 
Liberty’s bell in jangling keys sound peals,
A pilot’s chair to cradle through the drive,
Gears shifting, fairly flying low on wheels.
 
New man in used car light of day reveals,
Though mirror does not with the real life jive,
My heart knows this is just how freedom feels-
Gears shifting, fairly flying low on wheels.

First Car - Jason

My '84 Escort

She was more than transport
As freedom was the key
My ‘84 Escort

So childhood distort
And the wind made me free
She was more than transport

She would give a report
When I stopped on my spree
My ‘84 Escort

Her hatchback we exhort
Packing in ten and three
She was more than transport

Thirty-fifth district court
Where innocent I plea
My ‘84 Escort

Engine smoke than stop short
My Grandpa Smith helped me
She was more than transport
My ‘84 Escort