By: Michael Hempen
Brought to you by Cous’n Hemp’n Entertainment
Issue 3: “The Legend of Action Jim!” or “Kitty Kelly ain’t got Shit on Me”
Jim was a handsome kid, two years older than me, about 5’9”, medium build and a smile that made you instantly want to be his friend. He was dressed in black dress pants, a button down shirt, and a black trench coat. Apparently Jim had just made plans to take his girlfriend Carrie out on a double date with Paul and his wife.
When Paul told Jim that I was the Mike that Lee ripped off, Jim was stunned. “You’re THAT Mike?” he asked in disbelief. Paul told us that we had a lot in common since we both had been ripped off by Lee and over the next several days we hung out and shared our Lee Tenant rip off stories.
After Jim had left, Paul and I went into the store where he told me that THAT was the Jim who busted out Stan. This was a dynamic that played between Paul, Jim, and me for years…and still does. Paul would talk shit about Jim behind his back and then be super nice to him when he was around. Then he’d do the same thing by talking shit about ME to Jim when I wasn’t there. I realize now that this was a form of control that Paul used to keep Jim and me reliant on him for information, while at the same time keeping the two of us an arm’s length apart. However, it didn’t really work as Jim and I became fast friends.
Jim and I went to a bar a few night after we met and his most recent Lee rip off story was particularly evident of the evil Lee was capable of committing. Much like I used to do when I started working for Lee, Jim would get his check from the warehouse every week, come right over to Heroland, and spend it all on comics. However, because of Lee’s nefarious debauchery in stealing my collection, and the reputation he earned FROM that hosiery, Jim was getting less and less hours at the warehouse because Lee couldn’t afford to have him work there as much. In fact, from what Jim told me, Lee was hemorrhaging money. There were no more fat wads of 100’s, there were no more 3 pizza lunches, and in fact Lee was 2 months behind in his rent on the warehouse. On this particular day Louisa was working at Heroland. Jim came over, signed his check over to her, and left with his books; about 300 dollars worth of Batman comics, new issues and back issues. He went up to the warehouse and brought his comics in so that he could read them on his lunch break. When he left that evening, Lee stopped him at the door and asked him where he was going with a bag of comic books. Jim told him that he bought them at Heroland before he came in. Lee said he didn’t believe him.
Jim told Lee to call the store; Louisa was there when he got them. Lee called Heroland as Jim suggested and Louisa denied that Jim had bought the comics. So, using Jim’s addiction against him…Lee made him pay for his comic books all over again. I couldn’t fucking believe it. I wasn’t so much surprised that Lee and Louisa would be, once again, complicit in ripping someone off, as I was that Jim would pay for his comic books twice. But it wouldn’t be the first time that I’d hear of or see Jim pay more than something was worth JUST because it had a Batman logo on it.
Jim and I became fast friends. We would talk on the phone for hours about comic books, and he and Carrie began coming over to my mother’s condo 3-5 nights a week. Jim and I would play video games and talk about comic books while Jackie, Carrie, and my mother would play scrabble in the living room. It was the beginning of a beautiful bro-mance.
Jim and I began one of those rare friendships where neither person expects anything from the other. Over the course of a few weeks we’d told each other our life stories, we were both interested in the same movies, TV shows, comic books, and women. We could tell each other our deepest secrets and desires without fear of judgment or ridicule. I had a group of friends that I had known since I got out of military school in ’86, but Jim was different in that our friendship sprouted almost overnight.
Soon I began introducing Jim to my other friends; Steve, Pete, Cous’n Hemp’n, Rich and my new friends from Waldenbooks. He got along with them just as well as we got along and a few months after meeting him, Jim was intertwined into my life.
Jim’s father had passed away a few weeks before I met him, which is a shame because from what Jim told me, he was an amazing man. I would have liked to have met him. But when he passed, he left Jim a small fortune. Jim bought himself a car, and because MY car had recently broken down completely, he offered to sell me his old one. It was an ’87 Cavalier Z24. Jim told me that it had a flat tire, the battery was dead, and it needed a new radiator, but if I could get it running, it was mine for 200 bucks.
At the time Jim was living with his grandmother, so Jackie and her dad drove with me over to Grannies house to take a look at the car. Jackie’s dad was a mechanic, and he hated my guts, but because his daughter was living with me and my mother, he knew that her boyfriend needed to have a car to drive HER back and forth to his house. Jackie’s dad fixed the flat and powered the battery in no time. When he looked at the radiator, he found that there was nothing wrong with it, but a hose needed to be replaced. In under an hour I was driving Jackie and I back to my mother’s place in my new car, which I kept for nearly 10 years.
I remember getting my FIRST glimpse of something strange about Action Jim after I bought that car from him. What’s the first thing you do with a new car? You clean the shit out it. Well, while I was cleaning out my new car, under the seats and stuffed in the cushions of even the back seat, were French fries and pizza crusts. They were EVERYWHERE. I couldn’t imagine how the hell pizza crusts had gotten into the cushions of the back seat. But I soon found out.
Pizza, Garlic Bread, and French Fries
This is one of those things where you’re sitting at home going: “Surly he just eats MORE of those things than other things; he HAS to eat other stuff too”. Nope. He LITERALLY only eats Pizza, Garlic bread, and French fries. Sometimes he’ll eat variations of those things like ‘pizza bread’ or ‘garlic French fries’, but the same ingredients are prevalent in WHAT ever he eats.
The SECOND time that I found something odd about Action Jim was a few months after I had met him. My mother would make a dinner for Jackie and me every Sunday night. I would come home from Waldenbooks and there would be a huge meal of pork chops or roast beef with salad, sides, and always…garlic bread. At the end of the meal, I would wrap up the leftovers and put them in the refrigerator.
After dinner, Jim and Carrie would come over and the girls would play scrabble in the living room while Jim and I watched TV in my room. The next day when I went to make myself lunch or dinner, I would open up the Tupperware container with the garlic bread in it, and it would be empty. My mother swore that she didn’t eat it, and Jackie didn’t eat garlic bread at all. Yet this container was nearly full the night before and now it was not only empty, but someone had put it back in the fridge instead of in the sink.
One Sunday night, while we were watching TV in my bedroom, Action Jim excused himself to go to the bathroom. I went out a few seconds after him to get another beer from the fridge, when I saw Action Jim hunched over the counter scooping garlic bread in his mouth from the Tupperware bowl. He was like the cookie monster shoveling cookies into his maw with bits of them flying everywhere. This man was STEALING garlic bread.
I told him that he didn’t have to sneak around and eat up all of my garlic bread. He could have as much of it as he wanted. I just asked him to put the bowl in the dish washer when he was done. He thanked me and after that ate every piece of garlic bread in my house on Sunday nights.
Because Jim and I worked together finding Action Figures for Paul, we would often have lunch together, usually at McDonalds or Burger King. Jim got the same thing every time: French Fries. No ketchup, no burgers, JUST French fries. He would even want to go to the FIRST McDonalds, or an extravagant Burger King that would take us an hour to get to JUST for French fries. If I wanted something else he would refuse to eat unless they had garlic bread on the menu. Anytime Jim went on a date, he would take the woman to a pizza place. Even if they had been dating for years, Jim would ONLY go to pizza places with them. He would ONLY take them to a restaurant, even one they requested for a birthday or holiday if they had pizza or garlic bread.
At that time in my life, I was still very deep into comic books, and Jim was a great friend in that regard. We could talk for hours about The Justice League or Batman, and there was never an uncomfortable pause. It was pure heterosexual man love.
When we would arrive at a Target at 545 in the morning, waiting outside for the doors to open would be a hoard of fat guys. Jim and I would casually saunter up to the door in our overcoats and watch as these tight mustard stained shirt wearing pie eaters stared each other down like the final showdown in The Good The Bad and The Ugly. Sweat dripping from their brows, white palms clenching their loose fat person dungarees…and at 6AM the church bell would toll and the automatic doors would shunt open. The fat people would run in at top speed, clawing and pushing at each other as Jim and I just stood our ground watching the stampede around us. Heavy breathing and snorts filled our ears as dirt and filth from unwashed clothes clouded the air. When the debris cleared, and the thunderous sound of the size 15 hooves faded, Jim and I would brush our dusters off, nod at each other and stroll into the store without a care in the world.
As we reached the fourth isle, the scattered carcasses of passed out tubs of lard could be seen spread across the floor in front of us. The running would inevitably take its toll on them within a few yards, leaving the unpicked and unmolested toy isle all to ourselves. We knew that game, and nobody was better at it than we were.
Don’t Look in the Fucking Bag
Jim met a guy at a comic book convention whose job was reviewing new and upcoming action figures for a magazine. Apparently he’s a big name in that world now, so I won’t bust him out here. This guy, only a kid back then of no more than 18, lived in his mother’s house, of course, and told Action Jim that he had a prototype of a new Batman action figure that was being released later in the year. Well shit negro, that’s all YOU had to say.
The next weekend found Action Jim, Jackie, and myself driving to this kids mother’s house about 50 miles away. It was a long trek and although Jackie wasn’t exactly pleased at the nature of our visit, she was happy to be along for the drive.
We arrived at the house in the afternoon and Jim almost didn’t wait for the car to stop before jumping out, running up the steps like a child, and knocking on the door. The kid’s mother answered and told Jim that her son wasn’t home yet, but he should be there in a little bit. The sad look and lip quiver on Action Jim’s face gave the mother pause…and she invited us into the house.
Her house, and keep in mind this was HER house, was literally covered in action figures. You could see the dynamic at work when you walked through the door. The kid was in charge here, and judging by his mother’s kind demeanor, he was as spoiled a brat as they come. While we waited, this nice lady offered us something to drink and showed off her son’s collection. He had original Star Wars toys, mint and in the box from the 70’s, he had rare figures only released overseas…and then there was the brown paper bag.
As we walked past this brown paper bag on the floor, Jim saw something inside that caught his eye and made him stop in his tracks. His eyes glazed over like a man hypnotized. The mother turned and in a hushed and worried voice said “Oh no, don’t look in there!” Action Jim ignored her, of course, and bent down to see what was inside the bag. He pulled out an unpainted prototype of a ‘Man-Bat’ action figure (a villain from the Batman comics). The mother pushed her way past Jackie and I, snatched the figure from Jim’s hand, threw it back in the bag and quickly bundled it up in her arms. As she did this, I could see that there were about 20 of the same figure in the bag.
Just then the front door opened and the kid walked in. He looked at the three of us standing on one side of the room, and then to his mother holding the bag on the other side of the room, and without missing a beat he began screaming at his mother. “I TOLD YOU NOT TO LET THEM LOOK IN THE FUCKING BAG MOM! YOU’RE SO FUCKING USELESS! GAWD!”
It turned out that the kid had lied to Action Jim and told him that there was only ONE prototype of the Man Bat action figure, which is why he was charging him 500 fucking dollars for it. And Action Jim, in his stupidity and need to have ANYTHING Batman…STILL paid 500 dollars for it even after seeing the others. As Action Jim was writing out the check for 500 bucks, I looked down from over his shoulder at it out of curiosity because I didn’t know that Action Jim HAD a checking account…and as it turned out he didn’t. The check was in his Grandmother’s name and already signed by her. I found out later that Action Jim’s grandma often gave him these checks to go shopping for her.
|Jim sleeping on the day bed in my |
bedroom, avoiding Granny's house
When I met Jim he was living with his Grandmother. Now, in a lot of these stories I try not to be too judgmental when sharing of the Jimisms, but in this case I’m just gonna flat out say that if nothing else I say here makes you want to strangle him…this will.
For a little over a year I never met Jim’s grandmother, I only heard what he told me about her and what I’d hear him tell women. His account was that he was being nice by staying with her and taking care of her, that she was high strung and hard to get along with, and that he paid her a great deal of money to help her live; as it turned out not ONE of those things was true.
To this day I don’t know much about Jim’s past before I met him. I know that his father worked for the Chicago Parks Department for a long time and that Jim was even offered a job there which would have been the best thing for him, but he didn’t take it. I know that Jim’s mother and father were having problems so his dad was living in a motel a few blocks away from my mother’s condo. A few weeks before I met Jim, his father passed away from a heart attack in that motel. Jim had already been living with his Grandmother, who he affectionately called ‘Granny’.
I can’t be sure what events led to him living with Granny, but I know that much like my mother, Jim’s mother didn’t really want him around. I found out later, after Granny passed away that Jim was the black sheep of the family and the events surrounding her death and the dispersal of her will gave me a greater understanding of why this was. One of Jim’s brothers works in politics in California, one of them is a lawyer, and his sister is a doctor…Jim’s sole goal in life is the collection of Batman comic books and toys by any means necessary.
I don’t remember when I first met Granny, but I remember after having met her, Jim was not happy that I did. I think I went to pick him up from her house one morning and knocked on the door before he could come outside to avoid me meeting her. Jim was like this with all of the women in his life. However, Granny seemed nice to me. She was a nervous lady in her 80’s, who could go from talking to you in a slight, quiet, and shaky voice into a bellow that shook the rafters as she shouted after Jim. As Jim would get ready in the morning (he was NEVER ready when you went to pick him up) Granny would meander about the kitchen in her slippers and robe babbling nervously about her Jimmy. “I don’t know where he goes Mike, he’s out until all hours of the night, he won’t tell me anything, he leaves his SHOES on the carpet, why doesn’t he have a job, you’re a nice boy Mike, can you help my Jimmy?” And then Jim would come out of his bedroom and say, while tucking his shirt in “GOD Granny, shut the fuck up!” and hurry me out of the door.
Jim’s interaction with Granny was much the same as it was with ANY woman that he dated, except he felt that he could yell and cuss at her. He NEVER treated any woman he dated that way because his need to take advantage of them kept him in check, or what I would call “kitten ass”. Kitten ass is a term I coined for Jim whenever he was acting like a particular pussy with a woman. As I’ve said, Jim would put up with ANYTHING from a woman so that he could hold on to whatever lifestyle he was siphoning off of her. It was not so with Granny because he KNEW she’d never kick him out so he felt he could treat her any way he wished, which is how he would tread his girlfriends as well once he got his hooks deep enough into them.
After seeing this dynamic between Jim and Granny a few times, I gave her my cell phone number and told her to call me if she needed anything. Now don’t get me wrong, I was far from being philanthropic, and in fact giving Granny my phone number only made me feel worse because she would constantly call me looking for Jim and I’d have to lie to her. “Mike, have you seen my Jimmy? He was supposed to go shopping for me, I gave him a check” or “Jimmy didn’t come home last night, do you know where he is? I’m so worried about my Jimmy.”
As I’ve said before, one of the things Jim has always looked for in a woman is that she have a place he can stay. Jim tried to avoid Granny at all costs so he wouldn’t have to explain her missing things, the egregious charges to her checking account, and so he could avoid helping her in any way. Looking back on it, this may be the reason Jim befriended ME in the first place and why he spent so much time at my mother’s condo.
During that first year that I knew Jim, he spent nearly every waking moment with me. He spent the night all the time and we’d sit up late into the night watching TV. He never had a change of clothes but he would often leave in the morning SAYING that he was going home to change, but then he would come back wearing the same thing. In most of the years that I knew him, Jim wore the same thing day after day. Black cargo pants, a wrinkly button down dress shirt, and a black overcoat which our friend Nick said made him look like Oliver Twist. Jim also had a particularly nasty foot odor problem from wearing the same shoes all the time and he would often even sleep in them. Whenever he spent the night at my mother’s condo, he would ALWAYS sleep in his clothes and sometimes he’d sleep in that trench coat too. You have to remember that because Action Jim spent EVERY dime he made on Batman stuff, he NEVER bought new clothes. Also, Action Jim wore contact lenses and he’d NEVER bring contact solution with him which made his eyes red and bloodshot every morning. Action Jim had an amazing ability to sacrifice hygiene in order to avoid his Granny.
I actually DID start getting pissed at Jim at some point because I wished MY fucking mother cared that much about me and he was just abusing that nicety. But there were a few times when I wasn’t at work and had nothing to do so I’d go put Granny’s storm windows in, trim her bushes in front of the house, or pick up some groceries for her…like I said, to me she was a nice woman, but I didn’t have to live with her and I could kinda sorta see how she could get on someone’s nerves.
Anyway, as I’ve alluded to in previous stories, Jim would steal from his grandmother. She would call me to tell me that some piece of jewelry of hers was missing, which I just KNEW Jim had sold on eBay for Batman toys. She would sign checks for him to buy groceries with and he’d use that check to buy Batman toys. She would even give him money to pay bills for her which would never get paid…Batman toys. Whenever Jim wasn’t working, Granny would yell and scream at him in the morning to get up and find a job, even calling the police to come and rouse him out of bed. The cops didn’t like it, but they knew Granny was a nice lady so they’d come and bust Jim’s balls about not helping her. THIS would piss Jim off worse than anything.
Much like ALL of these stories, Jim would ALWAYS have the balls to complain about something that he had NO right to complain about. In the case of Granny he would scream and moan things that a rational human being wouldn’t dare to say. As normal people, when you and I complain about someone or something we usually do it because we feel that we’re being slighted in some way. There is a definitive statement, such as “My boss is an asshole”, followed by a reason “because he’s incompetent”, and maybe a solution statement “I’ve gotta find another job”. With Jim? His complaints could make you bash your head into a fucking wall. “Granny’s being such a bitch because she wants me to get a job and give her money to live there…I’ve gotta find out where she keeps her checkbook.”
Jim’s solution to ANY problem was to find a way to take advantage of a person or a situation MORE. He never accepted NOR produced responsibility for ANY thing in his life. When he crashed his car into another parked car? It wasn’t because he was reading a comic book while driving in the rain with no windshield wipers, which he didn’t get fixed for MONTHS, opting instead to buy toys…it was because ‘that asshole parked his car on the street’ which was perfectly legal where the accident happened. Jim has told me a lot of these stories exactly as I’m telling them to you…the difference being that when Jim would tell them they always ended with “So it wasn’t my fault” and I think he REALLY believes that.
Over the years I’ve known Jim I didn’t have much interaction with Granny. Much like his women, he didn’t really want people around her for fear of his lies being outed. I know that Jim trusted me implicitly around Granny because we had the kind of friendship in which he knew that I may not have liked the situation he put me in, but I wouldn’t bust him out. But when Granny passed away a few years ago, Jim’s final act of defiance and selfish child like ignorance towards her would widen a divide that already existed between him and his family to an unfillable trench.
The story of Jim and Granny is not one for the light of heart. Usually when I spin the tales of Jim at a bar or a party people laugh uncontrollably at his ability to fuck himself, but the few times I’ve told the story of he and Granny, people have gotten pissed to the point of wanting to punch Jim back up his mother’s pussy. Personally, I’ve never judged Jim over his treatment of Granny mostly because I had a hard time getting along with MY mother growing up. Sure the dynamic was wholly different in that my mother was an alcoholic who didn’t want me around, but everybody has a different family and how they interact with those family members varies greatly. I always felt bad for Granny, which is why I tried to help her when I could, but I think that she TRULY loved Jimmy (as she called him) and as much as he took advantage of her, as much as he treated her like shit and did nothing to help her…I think she was happy to have him around and we as witnesses to her complications can at least take comfort in that.
|Action Jim catching the scent of an|
action figure he doesn't have
As it turned out, because Tenth Planet had recently opened, a reporter was there from a local newspaper to interview the owner of the comic book store about action figures. Because Jim and I were the only customers there at the time, and because Jim had a stack of Batman action figures in his arms, the owner pointed us out to the reporter…and while there on a clandestine mission of spying on the competition…an article was written about Jim and myself. Where Jim took this article WAY too seriously, I still can’t stop laughing at what a fucking dork I was back then. I’m just going to give you snippets from the article here in which Jim and I are mentioned and/or quoted, but keep in mind this was a long time ago…but it’s still funny as hell.
The article was titled: Go Figure
“What changed in recent years is technology and commitment to sculpting action figures that look like the real actors and real costumes.
The trend "brings a lot of non-comic book people and non-action figure people" in to buy characters at the Tenth Planet comic book store in Oak Lawn, said manager Tom Storcz.
He stocks "Jay" and "Silent Bob" from the "Clerks" and “Chasing Amy" movies among his array of off-the-wall action figures.
Storcz caters to the whims of committed collectors such as Jim of Chicago's Garfield Ridge neighborhood and Mike Hempen of Chicago Ridge.
What they spend each week depends on what comes in. Most figures cost between $5 and $10 apiece, although sought-after figures can command higher amounts. Jim has a stack of toys that add up to close to $120. All the items are related to Batman and the Justice League, the only thing he collects anymore. He particularly likes superheroes with cloth rather than rubber capes.
Hempen leans more toward contemporary figures. He has bought characters from "The Crow" and keeps up with the line of Movie Maniacs toys, which represent characters from the top slasher movies of all time. He also keeps a line of Elvis action figures displayed on top of his television at home.
Hempen likes action figures for the sculpture.
"Just like someone buys statues or fine art, you're buying it for the same reason," he said.
Toy companies already know they have the loyalty of people such as Hempen, who kicks himself daily for getting rid of his “Indiana Jones" figures he had as a child and who marvels at the artistry and detailing on today's action figures.
"(Some toys) are for adults to display, but these are for kids," Hempen said, showing a toy monster figure with minor detailing that he was nonetheless taking to the register to buy. “
Holy shit, reading this again had me rolling on the fucking floor laughing. First off, fuck this bitch for writing this in a condescending tone. There are reporters out there writing about the insurgencies into other countries, the peak oil crisis, and governmental covers up while this stick-up-her-ass cunt is sitting around blathering about toys. Secondly, I did NOT bring that shitty kid toy to the register to buy! And lastly, the FUNNIEST line I may have ever read has to be “He particularly likes superheroes with cloth rather than rubber capes” LMAO! That may be the gayest passive aggressive statement ever made about another human being.
I remember showing this article to EVERYONE and being able to laugh at myself even back then, but when Paul and I would laugh at Jim for it, he would become incensed. Personally, I never thought EITHER of us would ever get laid again after this came out. But Jim took this shit seriously and he really thought that THIS was his fifteen minutes of fame. Well I got news for you Jim: THESE stories about you are your fifteen minutes of fame.
The Passion of the Action Jim
|Jim getting a Batman Beyond poster|
signed by the writer
Jim’s collection of Batman paraphernalia bordered on insanity. He had to have EVERYTHING associated with the character of Batman, but in his inability to be organized, neat, or clean in ANY way; he didn’t take care of any of it. You’ll begin to understand as these stories continue that Jim would go to great lengths to accrue his collection, but he went to NO lengths to KEEP his collection in a respectful condition. Much like his life, Jim never looked past the GETTING of these things to the responsibility of KEEPING them. Like the old saying; Jim knew the price of everything and the value of nothing.
Jim would often steal for the opportunity to buy expensive and older Batman comic books OR action figures. However, once he had them, he would literally toss them in the back of his car. There were times when I’d be out with Jim and notice that on the floor, in the back seat of his car were trampled on and ripped up toy packages and comic books that not 2 weeks earlier I could remember him saying that he HAD to have. The ferocity with which Jim used to acquire these things died the moment he actually HAD them.
Another oddity in Jim’s obsession was that he never actually READ any of the comic books that he spent so much effort to get. He’d simply look at the pictures for hours sometimes and then toss them in the back of his car. Same thing with action figures. One time, while spending the night at Jim’s grandmother’s house on the couch, I got up at 3 am to take a leak. I noticed that the kitchen light was on so I peaked around the corner of the hallway and saw something that has haunted me to this day.
Jim had received Batman dolls earlier in the day that he had bought off of eBay. These were DOLLS, like Barbie dolls, only they had no clothes. Jim paid an exorbitant amount for them in WAY less than mint condition. The only way you could even tell that they were Batman toys were from the heads. In fact, if I remember correctly, some guy on eBay had MADE these dolls from Ken dolls and just put batman heads on them. To a collector, they were worthless. But as I peaked around the corner at 3am that morning, there in Grannies kitchen with the linoleum floor, on the 70’s laminated table with brass legs, were laid out the dolls that Jim had received earlier in the day. And in front of them, sitting on a matching 70’s laminated kitchen chair in nothing but his underwear…was Action Jim; staring at his new dolls with his mouth open. I went to the bathroom and then lay back down on the couch without saying a word…but I couldn’t sleep because of the creepy nature of what I had just witnessed. This is what I imagined Ed Gein would do with women’s heads. I must have laid there for over an hour when curiosity got the better of me and I got up to see if Jim was still there. He hadn’t moved. He was still sitting there just staring at his dolls.
Speaking of eBay, it wasn’t long after that company was started that Jim got himself thrown off of the website. He would order hundreds of dollars worth of toys, convince the seller to send them to him post haste, and then not pay for them. He even put up items to sell that he didn’t have so he could get money from people to use to buy more toys. Jim was the very reason that I never bought anything from eBay. Over the years, whenever Jim had a girlfriend, he would convince them to start an eBay account. One of two things would eventually happen; the girl would get kicked off of eBay, or Jim would convince her that he had ‘accidentally’ bid on expensive items, and she should pay for them or suffer the bad credit that getting kicked off of eBay would give her.
Any money that Jim made from work always went STRAIGHT to his obsession. He was always broke and he never paid a bill, opting instead to buy toys. He wrote bad checks which nearly got him arrested several times, he never paid insurance, and he ALWAYS got into car accidents. Jim may have been the worst driver I’d ever seen and much like his toys and comic books, he never took care of any car he owned. For a time he had to have that SR-22 insurance because he’d been in 3 car accidents without insurance. One car he had was a fairly nice one and while driving down the street, staring at the pictures in his new comic book, he crashed into a parked car and totaled his vehicle. With no insurance to use to get himself a new car, he simply stopped making the car payments. In a similar situation, while leaving the comic book store one day, Jim decided to make a left turn at a busy intersection from the far right lane…WHILE once again staring at a comic book, and smashed into a Mercedes. With no insurance again, he was sued and filed bankruptcy.
These are just SOME of the lengths that Jim went to in his manic pursuit of all things Batman. In all the years I’ve known Jim he’s been fired from enough jobs to bring the unemployment rate down to 0% if people who NEEDED jobs could get them, for either stealing or showing up late or not at all because he was at a convention or a comic book store. I’ve seen him buy things at outrageous prices JUST because he HAD to have that thing right away…and then 3 weeks later he’d be selling it back to the same person or another comic book dealer for less than a quarter of what he paid for it because he needed cigarettes, gas, or food. Jim was every asshole comic shop owner’s wet dream come true. And even though I haven’t seen Jim for some time, he’s STILL up to the same shenanigans at nearly 40 years old. Jim has become the very person that we used to make fun of in our twenties.
The Women of Action Jim
|Jim holding a tube of KY Jelly|
Well I am, and part of the reason for his success with women is not only his good looks, but that he’s been blessed with a huge cock. I’ve never understood how such good looking women can stay with Jim for as long as they do. I mean, SURLEY after even six MONTHS they must be able to see him as I do, but they not only stay with him, they are absolutely obsessed with him as a boyfriend. This is how I came up with my big cock theory which states: “A woman will put up with ANYTHING from a man…if he’s got a big cock and she will ONLY ultimately break up with him if she finds a cock of equal or greater value.”
The more lies Jim tells? The more these women seem to want him. The worse he treats them? The deeper their feelings for him grow. Knowing Jim for as long as I have has made it difficult for me to take women seriously because I’ve seen SMART and beautiful women, women who say they want a man who treats them right and doesn’t cheat on them, fall under his influence and web of lies.
Jim also has an ability to put up with ANYTHING from a woman. Things that we as normal human males will simply not tolerate from a girlfriend, Jim will deal with simply because his end goals with women are different from ours. His goal is to fuck them, get them to take care of him, borrow money from them, and dig himself into their lives like a tick so that he can suck the life from them until he ruins them for all other men. I’ve seen him do this time and again.
I admit to being a tad jealous of Jim’s fortunes and lifestyle. It seems that everything that I try and fail at, Jim tries and succeeds at. Not because he’s more talented, although he is; not because he’s better looking than me, although he defiantly is; and not because he’s smarter than me, although again, he probably is. But the reason Jim is so much more successful in the endeavors that I fail at is because he’s a MUCH better bullshitter than anyone I’ve ever met. Jim will tell a lie and stick to it until his dying breath. He will NEVER back down from it, and his lies are not only grand…but convincing. Being able to tell a lie convincingly is an invaluable commodity when ALL you want from a woman is pussy.
Jim not only tells humongous lies, but he’ll tell tiny lies with the same ferocity as the big ones. I’ve seen him tell his girlfriend on the phone that he’s a block away from her house and he’ll be there in about a minute, while in reality he’s with me at a bar or at my apartment NOWHERE near that girl’s house. There’s NO reason for this lie. He’s not cheating, he’s not doing anything illegal, he’s just hanging out with me. When I would ask him: “what happens when you don’t show up in a minute?” He would simply say: “I’ll tell her something.” When the girl would call back ten minutes later asking where he was, Jim would STILL insist that he was only a minute away. He would do this for hours, and he was SO fucking apologetic and humble that the woman would KEEP fucking believing him. It was like watching a Jedi mind trick in real life.
These lies are also the reason why NOBODY gets to hang out with Jim’s women. When Jim is dating someone, you might have met her BEFORE they started dating, but once he sticks his filthy pethis inside of her, you will NEVER see that woman again. Why? Because of ALL the ridiculous lies. Jim tells so many lies to women that even HE doesn’t remember them all, silly lies that there is NO reason to tell. Because of this, bringing that woman around his friends threatens the very fabric of the web he has spun. Jim lies SO much and SO convincingly that if he brought a woman with him when meeting a friend and that friend said to him “Hey Jim, how are you doing today?” Jim would hurriedly shush his friend, take him to the side and say “Shut up, I convinced her that today is tomorrow and that my name is Bill”. TWO lies busted out in a seemingly innocuous 7 word polite ponderance. Yet in all the time I’ve known him, Jim has been laid more than any 3 people I know put together.
There’s a motel not far from my apartment that Jim has soiled EVERY room in. Whenever he couldn’t take a woman to her place, he’d bring her to the J.C. motel. Our friends refuse to go there because it’s a well known fact that of the 62 rooms and 4 Jacuzzi suites, Jim has used EVERY single one of them and the thought of rolling around with someone in Jim’s leavings was simply unfathomable.
The Legend of Action Jim continues in "Heroland Issue 4: Beginnings and Endings"