JUNES JONES: THE INTERVIEW

by Orson on Jan 11, 2008 1:09 PM EST

How the hell does Hawaii's coach end up sitting in Dallas today? We have answers.

We have inside information. Read along.

(Scene: a nattily dressed man with a bourbon gut enter the room from a hidden door. Visible through the door: a bed with silk sheets streaming off it and onto the floor, a woman's naked legs seen to the knee. Ed "the Scrapple King" Pestara zips his expensive pants.)

Ed: Hey, baby. Don't clean up. I like you walking around smelling claimed. Other men smell it on you like monkeys and back off. Or like Meerkats.

Woman, from the other room: Okay, King.

Ed: And stay out of here while the men are talking. Take the back stairs and go buy yourself a smoothie. Low-carb, though. I don't want you gettin' cottage cheesey on me.

Woman: Okay, baby.

(Ed's secretary pops her head in the door. She is a stunning Latina with a skin-tight black skirt on and a white oxford shirt open down to ample cleavage.)

Secretary: Coach Jones is here to see you.

Ed: Send him in.

Secretary: Certainly, sir.

Ed: And when we're done...you feel like playing a little border patrol, senorita?

Secretary: Only if I get to turn the tables on you this time. When you're on my side of the border, it's strictly Mexican rules only.

Ed: I'll charge the taser, then. Send him in.

(June Jones enters. He is wearing a cowboy outfit complete with chaps, bandana, and a pair of boots with spurs. Plastic six-shooters sit in the holsters of his gunbelt.)

Ed: Well, aren't you native! Where'd you get that rough trade getup? If you wore that down at Bamboleo's you'd be swimming in Cosmos and unable to sit right for a few weeks. Jesus, I'm craving dick standing next to you, Brokeback.

June: I thought I'd just go...native, that's all. They liked it at Hawaii.

Ed: Well, I appreciate the effort, Cockalong Assidy. Have a seat, if you can. Now, tell me why I should spend some loose change like a few million bucks on some run 'n shoot freak exiled to Tropical Bananaland Spamalot.

June: Because I'm exciting. And I like to...have...fun. Lots of exciting fun.

Ed: Like getting Lucky Pierre'd over a sea turtle by the natives under the glow of torchlight? I almost shouldn't hire you just for that outfit. Show me. I'm a show me kind of guy. My people have to show me what they've got. Watch. Luisa!

Secretary: Yes, boss?

Ed: Show me them NAFTA-approved knockers, sweetie.

(She does. They are indescribable.)

June: She'll do that? Anytime?

Ed: And more, but only for the King here. Oh, and Luisa: did you ever get a message from Hussain about those oil hedges ?

Luisa: He says he can't back the 175 a barrel. It's just too risky for his blood.

Ed: You tell him that if he ever wants his son with the 340 SAT score, no English, and a fondness for sexual assault to ever spend five to seven of the best years of his life with his face jammed in piles of the nothing but the best Texan eel-skinner, he's gonna have to back that hedge and back it like he means it with every dinar he's got. I'm trying to make that carpet pilot rich and get his son a sprained dick every night, and look what he's giving me! A load of hot camel shit, that's what.

Luisa: Yes, sir.

June: Hey, can I...can I see those again?

Luisa: Does he work here yet, sir?

Ed: I ain't decided nothing yet. Show him one. You get the other one if you impress me in the next three minutes, Rough Trade.

(Luisa flashes one. It is indescribable.)

June: My god.

Ed: She's great. Can skin a mule deer and have it grill-ready in 18 minutes, too. That's the kind of people I like around here. So what you got?

June: Well, I have a powerpoint presentation to show you...

Ed: Shit, Jones. Fucking PowerPoint? POWERPOINT? I hate this shit. All people ever do is read the same damn shit off the board I can read for myself. It's like narration in porno: both demeaning and distracting, and both of 'em make my dick shrivel up to my kneecap.

June: It's just two slides.

Ed: Fine. I'll look at 'em, and then you can go tackle a rugby scrum of pillow-biting cowboys down in the gayborhood before you get your ass out of here.

Jones: (swallows nervously.) Well, if you'll see here, this is how my predecessor might line up against a standard 4-3 front.

Ed: I played at SMU, Jones. I know what the I-formation is. I have a loaded gun in my hands, and it goes off when I'm bored. And I'm getting perilously closed to uninterested, a little neighborhood just three blocks over from bored-town.

June: I know. You were the one who murdered Jerry Glanville.

Ed: Killed, Jones, killed. Murder is wrong. Killin' is justified.

June: Um. Of course. Well, here's how I'm gonna line up against a 4-3 front.

Ed: Damn. Is that even legal? I mean, can you even do that on a football field?

June: If five of those guys are linemen. I plan to use all nine as receivers, though.

Ed: Now that's what I'm talking about! (Fires gun into ceiling.) Innovation, son! Can you even do that, though?

June: There's only one way to find out, sir. Hire me and we'll see.

Ed: I'll be damned. You got me, Spunky Brewster. I like visionary shit, Jones. You're my man. Care for some scotch?

June: No thank you, sir.

Ed: Blow?

June: No, again, I appreciate it, but...

Ed: Scotch made with blow? Some scotch-scented cocaine? You see, you have to smell it to get the scotch aroma, and when you do, WOOO! It's all the way up to Bonerland, Jones!

June: No, I'm fine.

Ed: Spectacular. I'm gonna take a little of all three and Luisa in the back room. Care to join us?

June: No, I'm just gonna...

Ed: Get plowed by a body-dysmorphic personal trainer bean queen with a meth problem and fake tanner? You go right ahead. We accept everything but losing here at SMU, even pickleticklers with a home on the range fetish like yourself.

June: I'm gonna change into some clothes.

Luisa: Wanna see the right one again?

June: Yes, please.

(She does. It is indescribable.)

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Comments

“Cockalong Assidy”

Brilliant, again, sir.

Oh, and Paul Finebaum says Tuberville to Hawaii is a done deal.

by WDamnE on Jan 11, 2008 1:20 PM EST reply actions

You had me at “I like you walking around smelling claimed”

Priceless…

by sandman227 on Jan 11, 2008 1:21 PM EST reply actions

Where can I get some scotch-scented cocaine?

That was awesome!

by Tim on Jan 11, 2008 1:22 PM EST reply actions

Damn – this is good shit. But tell me something – is Luica related to Les Miles’s assistant, Lucille-

http://www.everydayshouldbesaturday.com/2007/03/27/joepa-goes-cajun/#more-3255

by Out of Conference on Jan 11, 2008 1:22 PM EST reply actions

Nothing like a hearty laugh as I walk out of the office, as I do every Friday, at 12.

by Joshua on Jan 11, 2008 1:22 PM EST reply actions

Hell, I think Coach O should go to Hawaii and be the coach…..what, with his language and the fucked up Hawaiin language, its all the same to me, so he should fit right in …..he could “put a fence around Hawaii” so none of that talent leaves for the mainland….

by Mr Pelican Pants on Jan 11, 2008 1:23 PM EST reply actions

There are so many things that I could, and want, to say…but all that comes out is: Ho. Ly. FUCK. I need a cigarette now!

(Man-Crushed by Mr. Swindle.)

by Aerobab on Jan 11, 2008 1:23 PM EST reply actions

We’re thinking a Texan Jack Dongahy here. Watching wayyyyy too much 30 Rock lately around here.

by Orson Swindle on Jan 11, 2008 1:24 PM EST reply actions

This post was indescribable.

by Steve on Jan 11, 2008 1:25 PM EST reply actions

There should have been more pictures in that post.

by Edsall is God on Jan 11, 2008 1:33 PM EST reply actions

[Looks around cubicle. No busty Mexican secretary. No firearms. No whiskey. Begins to weep.]

by DC Trojan on Jan 11, 2008 1:35 PM EST reply actions

Orson, if you’re going to mention such wonders as scotch-scented cocaine, then you have to share.

by Signal to Noise on Jan 11, 2008 1:37 PM EST reply actions

i think that’s the funniest thing i’ve read here. amazing

by Ryan on Jan 11, 2008 1:37 PM EST reply actions

Hell, I think Coach O should go to Hawaii and be the coach..what, with his language and the fucked up Hawaiin language, its all the same to me, so he should fit right in ..he could put a fence around Hawaii so none of that talent leaves for the mainland.

And both of their alphabets have only 12 characters. You may be onto something.

by ChemE93 on Jan 11, 2008 1:52 PM EST reply actions

Pony Up!

by Craig Dickerson on Jan 11, 2008 1:56 PM EST reply actions

I laughed so hard at this, I had to stop reading it and pull the “go outside and laugh it out” maneuver TWICE at work. Fucking twice, man.

by Cubehead on Jan 11, 2008 1:58 PM EST reply actions

Is the issuing of internet cocktails a passed fad?

If not…

ONE HUNDRED SCOTCHES
(made with blow, of course.)

That was epic.

by Seven Years in Gainesville on Jan 11, 2008 2:02 PM EST reply actions

Were thinking a Texan Jack Dongahy here

I’m thinking Jack Donaghy meets Slim Pickens from Blazing Saddles. Luisa’s about to get a Number 6.

by ChemE93 on Jan 11, 2008 2:07 PM EST reply actions

Why was the booster (I assumed ed is some booster) frmo SMU an Italian, and was nicknamed after some food item more common up in Pennsylvania?

Heh its funny but your SMU booster guy would more likely have been on his Sailboat off the Coast of Corpus Christi doing coke off Luisa’s ass cheek in real life. Oh and on the boat, yea there woulda been smarmy real estate developers trying to blow up a historic district to make room for a freeway. The booster’s wife would be holed up in Aspen boning the ski instructor. His kids would be at home, doing coke also with their friends at their house in Highland Park. Yea that’s more like it.

by Brian on Jan 11, 2008 2:10 PM EST reply actions

Scotch-scented blow? Well, I know what I’m doing with my weekend. Giddy up!

by Derrick in SD on Jan 11, 2008 2:15 PM EST reply actions

“Killed, Jones, killed. Murder is wrong. Killin is justified.” I like.

And Scotch made with blow. That’s how I picture my happy place….I think I’ll go there now.

by lance harbor on Jan 11, 2008 2:20 PM EST reply actions

A busty Latina who can skin and dress a deer? I’m in love.

by Herb on Jan 11, 2008 2:25 PM EST reply actions

I laughed so hard that I actually had to take a shit. I’m going to tell my wife tonight that I like her “walking around smelling claimed.”

One tiny comment: SMU is more of a Polos, Porches and probation school and less of a Yosemite Sam-type place. However, the frequent references to homosexuality are entirely appropriate.

by Boston Frog on Jan 11, 2008 2:26 PM EST reply actions

Urban Dictionary just told me what a “Lucky Pierre” was. I don’t want to know what other sites you ventured to research this information.

Conversely, you do live in Atlanta, so maybe you just picked up all this stuff riding MARTA too late at night or too early in the morning.

by Coop on Jan 11, 2008 2:29 PM EST reply actions

And, did Bobby Ewing win the Cotton Bowl for Texas or SMU?

I definitely would have preferred hanging out with JR, of the two, naturally.

by Coop on Jan 11, 2008 2:35 PM EST reply actions

As an added bonus to scotch scented cocaine, try eating a Tollhouse cookie before snorting….Then a wonderful thing happened. While savouring some Scotch scented cocaine…, the fumes got up into my sinuses. I usually tried to avoid this. But this time, it carried the chocolate flavour from the cookies with it. My whole face experienced chocolate.
I don’t do it very often, maybe once a month or less. Eat a cookie, snort the Scotch scented coke, savour, letting the fumes carry the chocolate flavour into your sinuses. Wait a moment, wash it down with the 7up. Pause and recover for a minute or two before doing it again

by Mr Pelican Pants on Jan 11, 2008 2:39 PM EST reply actions

Coop – I assume you happened to catch the Dallas episodes because they came on right after The Dukes of Hazzard, correct?
I agree with hanging out with JR instead of Bobby.

by Out of Conference on Jan 11, 2008 2:42 PM EST reply actions

“Jesus, Im craving dick standing next to you, Brokeback.”

Consider this phrase poached, Orson. I aim to use it in mixed company within the next 7 days.

by NativeSon on Jan 11, 2008 2:42 PM EST reply actions

I guy I graduated high school with QB’ed at SMU his freshman year (95). From the stories I have heard, Ed is a pretty much dead-on description of the people down there…which may explain why the QB didn’t (couldn’t?) return for a sophomore year.

by Anon on Jan 11, 2008 2:43 PM EST reply actions

Really now, it’s common knowledge that June’s real reason to come were the free pony rides on Peruna. And he should hire The Orgeron immediately so Jerrell Powe can transfer to SMU.

by yoyofutbawl on Jan 11, 2008 2:43 PM EST reply actions

I think I went to boarding school with Hussain’s son.

by Chips O'Toole on Jan 11, 2008 2:51 PM EST reply actions

The Dukes were entertaining, no doubt about it.

I honestly don’t remember too much about Dallas other than I was damn happy to be allowed to stay up until 11 or so on a Friday night when I was 6 or 7, even if it meant being forced to watch soap operas at my grandparents’ house.

Falcon Crest came on afterwards. They had some old woman on that show whose face scared the hell out of me.

by Coop on Jan 11, 2008 2:53 PM EST reply actions

this is funny shit.

by twang on Jan 11, 2008 3:22 PM EST reply actions

My favorite line from Texas Jack from 30 Rock:
Never go with a hippie to a second location.

by Mr Pelican Pants on Jan 11, 2008 3:51 PM EST reply actions

Mr. PP, I still almost wet myself in the scene after everyone gets on the elevator in route to Kenneth’s party.

A very disheveled looking Jack:

I’ve called this meeting to discuss what happened last night at Kenneth’s party. We all went in with certain expectations, the evening took a nasty left turn, now we must face certain facts in the cold light of day.

by Coop on Jan 11, 2008 3:54 PM EST reply actions