Ask Jeeves was supposed to be some search engine where all you have to do is type in a question in sentence form and get an answer. I remember the excitement surrounding it. Of course, this was clearly the greatest thing on the face of the planet.
I diligently prepared a list of questions: “Jeeves, what’s the meaning of life?”; “Jeeves, where do people go when they die?”; “Jeeves, who’s going to win the Superbowl this year?”; “Jeeves, how do cow’s feel about explosive diarrhea?”; “Jeeves, why does the sky talk to good children?”; “Jeeves, a very white man once told me that all Jamaicans are gay, but, if all Jamaicans are gay, then where are all of these Jamaicans coming from?”; “Jeeves, if the dinosaurs knew so much about quantum mechanics, why didn’t they simply design a machine that would have taken them into the future?”; “Jeeves, how do I take over the world?”; “Jeeves, how do I perform open-heart surgery?”; “Jeeves, is this statment true or false: ‘This statement is false’?”; “Jeeves, how can I ask this girl, I really like, out on a date without having her get all ‘oh, I think I’m busy all this month’ or freaked out or something?”; “Jeeves, I did what you told me, but I somehow screwed it up, what do I do now?”; “Jeeves, do you love me?”; “Oh God Jeeves, I really did it this time; I’ve still got blood all over my hands; it’s dripping on the keyboard; what do I do; for the love of God, what do I do?!!!”; “Jeeves, if you know everything, then why...
But then, I noticed something brilliant. Not only can I ask questions, but Jeeves actually suggests questions that other people have asked! Examining this list, I came upon something I just had to know. Someone before me had indeed asked a pertinent question. Before I could type any of my questions, I honestly began wondering to myself: “Jeeves, where’s the best place to live?”
The answer? You guessed it: Black Pussy.
Perhaps this was a significant sign of the Internet’s demise. I was fairly certain that Black Pussy is not one of the best places to live.
But then, I started to question my initial hesitation. I’ve always made mention of the fact that had I ever committed a crime that required flight from the law and was required to blindly flee to a random location, chances are I’d end up somewhere like Pussy, Arkansas. Or Reefer, California (next to the Shasta Mountains).
I began to doubt myself and wonder. Perhaps a Black Pussy, as Jeeves had suggested, isn’t the worst place to live after all. I suppose there are worse places. Such as a Cow’s Anus. I mean, a Black Pussy would seem awfully cramped at first, but throw in a little wallpaper, add some cushions, perhaps an assload of air freshener, and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. I suppose the next question to Jeeves would have to be “Silly Jeeves, how do I live in a Black Pussy?” And then “Jeeves, how do I make a Black Pussy habitable?” And then “Jeeves, how do I redecorate a Black Pussy?” And then “Jeeves, what’s a fair market value for a Black Pussy and how do I negotiate prices if I’m contemplating owning or leasing my very own Black Pussy?”; “Jeeves, assuming I’m a Black lady in possession of my own Black Pussy, am I a good place to live (for myself that is), or would I have to find another Black Pussy to inhabit, and could I rotate habitation with the possessor of the Black Pussy that I would consider my abode, and is any of this at all hygenic?” Is there a Black Pussy buyers guide somewhere? “Jeeves, can I live in a Black Pussy if I’m under 18?”
Maybe Jeeves is like a genie, and his answers are correct according to Jeeves’s own diabolical interpretation. Like “Jeeves, how do I fly?” And then Jeeves responds: “Just rub marmalade on your chest and chant gibberish for exactly 3 minutes. Smell your left foot and rub your head. Then jump off the nearest building and you will be able to fly.” And then you jump off the building only to discover that you can fly for about 6 seconds. But then, I suppose the time you’d spend in the air would depend on the height of the building, wind, etc... (all those things Jeeves would most certainly have calculated for).
But then, putting all of this foolishness aside, I realized something: isn’t our time in the womb one of the most comforting experiences of our lives? And aren’t so many psychologists always proposing our desire to return to it so urgently? My God. Jeeves was right... Jeeves was right. Sometimes, we’re just too stubborn to accept the wisdom that doesn’t live up to our expectations, or that we’re not yet ready or willing to accept. But Jeeves was right.
Why a “Black” Pussy? Because it’s, without a doubt, the best place to live. Why? Because Jeeves says so. It’s not my place to answer. But why a Black Pussy? Well, that’s just something we’ll have to ask Jeeves now, isn’t it?
Copyright (c) 2000-2002 Jacques