Reports of his death have been greatly exaggerated

I have uncovered shocking evidence of a hoax. Observe:

1. It has been prophesied that when Jiggs dies, a single star will fall from the heavens as the angels weep. No such star fell on Wednesday.
2. The dead man's switch Jiggs operates was not triggered. The switch would cause Berkeley to become a giant volcano, so that would have been on the news.
3. The previous post has a hint about the Paul McCartney death hoax, and sure enough, if you record yourself reading the post out loud and play it backwards, it sounds like "I'm Jiggs Casey and I faked my own death on the blog-o-sphere. I'm hungry, I'm going to get a ham sandwich."
4. And we all know Jiggs loves his ham sandwiches.
5. I get Jiggs's ancient Burmese woodcut porn collection in his will. So far, no Burmese woodcut porn.
6. And finally, the post of Jiggs's death was written by Jiggs Casey!

This blog is lame

Hi. It's Jerry Caysey again. Now that Jiggs is dead and I started filling in for him, it seems like there should be some changes around here. I mean we can all agree that this blog is lame. It'd be vastly superior if it was called jerrycaysey.com instead. We can't mourn the loss of jiggs forever.

Also more of this blog ought to be dedicated to the art and craft of stunt dicking. I mean not everyone with a magnificent cock can be a stunt dick. It takes a lot of hard work and all the horse tranquilizers you can eat.

Also, Jiggs dying all of a sudden kind of reminds me of that whole "Paul is dead" thing with the Beatles. Except that the Beatles thing was a total hoax, and jiggs is totally dead.

I buried him with his cockfighting belt buckle this morning.

Jiggs Casey is dead!

This is Jiggs Casey's replacement, Jerry Caysey.

I'm not nearly as entertaining or generally odd as Jiggs, but I'm much more reliable.

They picked me to replace Jiggs because I work as Jiggs' stunt dick in the various foreign films that Jiggs writes, directs and stars in.

Enjoy.

Happy Seis de Mayo

Yeah, we missed Cinco de Mayo here at the JiggsCasey.com, but I thought I'd make it up to our southern brothers from another colonial mother so I read the wiki on Cinco de Mayo.

I knew that Cinco de Mayo wasn't Mexican Independence day, and that it had to do with Napoleon III's (worst dictator sequel ever) invasion of Mexico. I thought it was when the Mexicans kicked the French out in the 1860s, but apparently not. No, it was just an early victory over the invading French army before Mexico got their asses occupied for a few years. We could at least celebrate when the French were finally defeated (February 5) or when they shot General Maximillian (June 19).

Hell, let's just officially rename it Coronas and Limes Day.

Support your local minor league arena team

From Manchester to Corpus Christi to Spokane, Arena 2 is sweeping the nation!

Went to the Manchester Wolves game yesterday and my voice isn't entirely back. The four of us tried to create a college football atmosphere, which involved a lot of noise on defense and general douchebaggery. Sadly, no profanity while heckling the opposing team since the Arena crowd is mostly families - I just don't feel right proclaiming that the Daytona Beach ThunderBirds are a bunch of whores with 6 year olds in the same section as me.

But you want to know what puts the "semi" in semi-pro football? It's when the owners decide to have special uniforms for the game and sell them off for charity. The jerseys the owners choose have one orange shoulder, one purple shoulder, green side panels, and a yellow design on the stomach. The owners match that jersey with the normal uniform pants, blue with a black stripe.


And the players can't say, "Oh, hell no!"

Friday scattershot

A few unconnected thoughts for the weekend:

While hiking in New England, I've noticed that swamps/wetlands/marshes are always labeled as "meadows" on the map. Is this a New England word, like "frappe" for milkshake, or is it just marketing on the part of the park service? New England natives, help me.

I'm a little disappointed that my movie script got rejected. "The Robert Palmer Story: Addicted to Awesome" was going to track his meteoric rise to pop rock stardom. Mainly it was an origin story, where I traced the look of his videos to his early crush on that pale brunette with blood red lipstick you always see on beauty salon ads. In the movie's climax, he finds true love when he discovers one of the models can actually play the instrument she was given to hold.

I'm going to Manchester this weekend for an Arena2 football game. That's the minor league for indoor football. Players make $200 per game, although owners are allowed to also compensate players with room and board. So this is one of the few opportunities in American sports to see people who might actually be playing for a ham sandwich.

My canker sore is totally hot!!!1!1

I totally won my salt eating contest today. Two salt shakers more than my closest competitor, Bernie "Dessicated Fingers" Torfelson. Afterwards he told me that he hadn't pooped in nearly six months. Such is the life of a professional salt eater.

Everybody was totally impressed that I was able to eat so much salt with my massive canker sore. In fact, my canker sore made me the sentimental favorite, and the audience's adoration made all the difference. Their cheers pushed me to eat those last 12 salt shakers.

One "salt groupie" was so into me, asking to lick my canker sore. At first I was disgusted, but the thought of hot salt groupie action was so intriguing that I accepted the offer. And let me tell you, my canker sore wasn't the only thing he licked! Booyah! Hot Gay Oral Sex!!!

Who knew festering sores could be so sexy?