Roast for Jordan on his Last Show                     

(Compiled by Aaron, written by many.  Late May, 2006)


For Russ’s birthday, I wrote him a psychoanalytic Roast, a kind of therapy that I think is catching on.  Tonight, though, is Jordan’s last show ever.  A roast from me just wouldn’t be sufficient.  So, I merely compiled things that other people had to say about Jordan.  I’ve added a few transitions and conjunctions, but for the most part, I can’t be held responsible for any of this.  I’ve taken the liberty of replacing all F-words with the word Flash, the stupid name that Jordan likes to be called. 

Some call Jordan a flashin dill hole, others say that he looks like a mike judge drawing and talks like a video store clerk with herpes of the neck.  Jordan appears to be different things to different people, resulting in mistaken identity.  One fellow told me the following:  When I first met Jordan Schulkin, it was from afar and I thought he was Howard the Duck.  Those small beady eyes, his puffy, kissable lips sticking out like a plastic beak, and of course those disgusting webbed feet we’ve all learned to deal with as friends.  It wasn’t until Punchline where I was finally forced to talk to this human wasteland we call Jordan, and eventually we tried joking with another.

Whenever Jordan would crack a joke about anything, he would stare at me for much longer than what’s considered socially acceptable anywhere in the world, and yet I couldn’t help but laugh.  “Who the hell is this duck,” I thought to myself.  Soon our relationship developed into intentionally creating awkward moments that only we found hilarious.  A strange smile, a long gaze, a brush of the shoulder with an errant index finger, I soon found my niche with Jordan.  I only wish this had been sooner though, because I will miss him terribly next year.  Jordan, you are quite a talented man, and I only hope the best for you in the near future.  Not the far future though. I hope you’re dead by, like, 40 or something.

Jordan, though, is not merely a duck.  I’m told by another fellow that Jordan Schulkin is a man of many facets, most of which aren't funny.  I saw Jordan last summer, performing in a stand-up competition in New York City.  He knew he couldn't win with humor, so he just packed the crowd with all of his friends who would laugh at him anyway...or else.  So, with this "completely voluntary" boost, he made it to the finals.  He had run out of bribe money at this point, and so his attempt to pack the crowd failed.  His career never recovered, and he was forced to complete his senior year at some low-ranked liberal arts school in BumbleFlash, Connecticut.  According to sources who wish to remain anonymous, that fall Jordan tried to increase his grade in a class presentation by wearing a dress and jewelry.  Unfortunately, it was a gov class and Jordan failed, forcing him to drop the major and revert to his backup major of film studies.  There, he made a senior thesis film that was so bad, that instead of a page of written feedback, Jordan merely received a paper bag full of a mixture of vomit, diarrhea, and several other unidentified bodily fluids.  He was so honored, he got the bag framed.  It is now hanging on the ceiling over his bed.  In a completely unrelated note, Jordan has not gotten laid in a very, very long time.

But Jordan does indeed fashion himself as something of a Casanova.  When he is not checking out his friend Mike Drucker in the shower, getting owned in poker by Luke Dietrich, or listening to Disney music, he can be found laying the moves on an unsuspecting pretty young thing.  His moves are about as smooth and subtle as a Duke Lacrosse player’s. 

One poor traumatized girl remembers many years ago sitting around the house with Jordan and watching TV.  After a long silence, Jordan asked if she had a pencil and paper that he could use.  A seemingly innocuous request.  She obliged the young man and fetched the pencil and paper, and then resumed watching TV.  Jordan proceeded to hunch over the paper, writing meticulously.  He then carefully folded the paper and handed it to her.  The paper had two squares on it, and the words “Can I kiss you?  Check a box.”  The Yes Box would remain empty for a long, long time.

But other girls were unable to escape the danger zone that is Jordan’s libido.  He is a romantic, and one of his favorite romantic spots is behind a tree in the backyard of Eclectic.  This is where this Romeo prefers to lock jaws and have close encounters of the sexy kind, causing a real catch-22 for everyone involved.

Jordan is as filthy in a literal sense as he is in a metaphorical sense.  Recently, one of his housemate’s mothers was visiting campus, so the housemate gave his mother a house tour.  When they walked past Jordan’s room, she peered inside and asked, “Why are you using this as a storage closet for all your trash?  Why don’t they make you clean it up and have someone live there?”  He soon responded that, Actually, it’s Jordan’s bedroom.  After a long, shocked pause, the mother could only say, “That’s appalling.”

But back to the metaphorical filth.  Jordan prides himself on making a first impression.  When he came to Wesleyan as a freshman, he went to some lecture about the sciences.  While the professor was talking about his research with zebra fish or something, Jordan turns to the person next to him and randomly starts discussing deviant male sexual fantasies.  He asked his new friend/victim, “Do you want to hear about The Burger King.”  The Burger King is far too awful to discuss further on this show.  In a true failure of representation, Jordan turned out to be the first Jewish person that the kid had ever spoken to.

Also proving Jordan to be a poor representative of his religion is the fact that while driving, Jordan will shift into neutral any time there is a slight decline in order to save a fraction of a cent on gas.  However, he has amassed hundreds of dollars worth of speeding tickets doing this.

Being in the car with Jordan is dangerous.  After he got his first car, a hand me down from his Uncle, he drove to visit a friend.  When he came back, the whole side of the car was smashed in.  When asked about this, Jordan’s excuse was that “the cement pillar in her driveway was wasn’t in the right place.”

Jordan is like an angel when he’s sleeping though.  A demented weirdo angel who giggles incessantly while sleeping and occasionally calls out the names of his male friends, like Steve Rubinstein.  It was probably while sleepwalking that he decided to give himself a haircut, failing so miserably that the barber had to cut almost all of it off in order to save it. 

Another fellow had the following to say about Jordan: 

I once knew this kid named Jordan Schulkin.  The only really memorable thing about Jordan was the fact that he had so few friends willing to submit witty little insights about him when they were initially solicited via e-mail, that Aaron Sussman had to send a SECOND obnoxious e-mail again pleading for those witty little insights.

So I want to go on record as being the friend who didn't give enough of a Flash about Jordan Schulkin to even respond the first time, but cared just enough to respond the second, in the hopes that Sussman wouldn't send a third pathetic e-mail to my INBOX.

I'll always remember Jordan Schulkin for his wise decision not to join my fraternity.  I wish I'd had such wisdom.  I also always remember Jordan for being the kid who might or might not have been in my Spanish class Sophomore year.  And finally, I'll always remember Jordan for being so completely undependable throughout the months that he claimed to have written for my radio show.

Jordan is a funny guy, and a remarkably successful Jewish stereotype. It's hard to tell whether he'll go on to greatness or whether his numerable talents peaked in college.  But in the end, it's even harder to care.

A successful Jewish stereotype indeed.  In 7th grade, Jordan talked a bully out of beating him up by explaining to the bully how ridiculous he would look beating up such a skinny, pathetic wuss.  In 4th grade, Jordan lived in Florida, and decided that he didn’t like sand.  Instead of going to the beach with his family like a normal child, Jordan chose to sit around with a notebook and write Billy Joel lyrics over and over, and then carefully memorize them.  This was the same year that Jordan complained to his mother about feeling nauseous after having to walk up the stairs behind his corpulent teacher.  Her pants revealed more than little Jordan could handle. 

In high school, Jordan was skinnier than he is now.  Much, much skinnier, as was emphasized to me.  Jordan decided to change this by working out hardcore for a week, doing punishing push ups every night.  After a week, Jordan was so proud of himself, that he got himself a sleeveless shirt and wore it to school.  Immediately, he was made of fun, as a student loudly commented on his “nice pair of rods.” 

The most befitting story about Jordan, though, occurred when he was three years old.  For Halloween, his parents dressed him up in a clown costume.  Strangely, clowns were the one thing that Jordan was not afraid of.  Jordan’s mother filmed the little guy all dressed up and asked him how he felt, to which he replied, “Clowny.”  This is the first joke Jordan ever made, and it marks the peak of his comedic career.  We are going to miss you on the show Jordan.  It’s been a great a time.  Without you, things will be a little less clowny.  Farewell, friend. 

Love,

Chris White, Victor Vazquez, Dan Crossley, Mike Campbell, Zack Boger, Jesse Sommer, Mike Gottwald, Emily Seife, Stephanie Roer, Matt Cron, Stan Parish, Jordan's Mom, Jordan's Dad


© 2004 Aaron Sussman. All rights reserved.

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