My husband is full of it. I love him like crazy but the man makes things up, presents them as facts, and defends said “facts” even when confronted with the truth that he actually has no idea what he’s talking about. Lest you think less of him, I can assure you he is an incredibly honest person with a high level of intelligence. He worked as an accountant before joining the Air Force which is mind boggling to me because I am utterly dyslexic when it comes to anything involving numbers. Here’s hoping Lena doesn’t get her math skills from mama.
I’ve secretly been keeping track of these “Jason Facts” over the past few months because they’ve become more and more outrageous. He’s been doing this for years but only recently have I become wise to his ways.
On the closing credits of the Jerry Springer show, one of the producers is listed as Rachelle Wilkos. While I pretty much despise the program, Jason can’t get enough of sisters-turned-lovers-turned-hermaphrodites. I mentioned it was weird that the producer’s last name was Wilkos just like Jerry Springer’s main bodyguard and without skipping a beat, Jason explained it: “Yeah, that’s his wife. They met on the Springer show and ended up getting married. And she helped him get his own show.” While this may be true, he had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. True to form, when I asked if he knew that or was just guessing he brushed me off and told me it was probably true.
We were discussing the Queen of England and comparing their system of government to what we have in the states. Admittedly, neither of us really knew enough about the topic to be having an intelligent discussion but that certainly wasn’t stopping us. When Jason informed me that Margaret Thatcher was the prime minister, I knew we were done. I asked him if he was sure and he just giggled and told me to google it if I didn’t believe him. He was halfway right as the Iron Lady had served as the prime minister but beyond that, the man didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
We were driving through Leeds and suddenly, the entire car smelled of a dirty diaper. I was sure we needed to pull over and do damage control on the Bacon Bit but Jason calmly informed me it was just the aroma of the famous Leeds papermill. We then passed an enormous industrial area with smoking towers which he pointed out as the culprit for the stink in our vehicle. I couldn’t even respond, I was laughing at him so hard! I grew up near Tacoma, Washington, which means I know what a papermill looks and smells like. If you’ve ever driven from Tacoma to Seattle, you’re familiar with the Aroma of Tacoma – a hybrid funk reminiscent of rotting eggs and a drunk man’s farts. All of this coming from a tall, skinny tower; not a nuclear power plant. Again, the Sarge stuck to his story while cracking up and urging me to “just google it if you don’t believe me.”
His most ridiculous claim to date involves a supposed contract between radio stations in England and Scotland. Right before crossing the border, the radio station we had been listening to stopped coming in. Jason wondered aloud if we had arrived in Scotland then answered his own question. According to my husband, there is a “UK Radio Agreement” so you’ll know when you’ve crossed the border. He actually couldn’t even finish this one because he started laughing at himself in the middle of it.
This is what I live with, folks. I wish I could remember more Jason Facts but half the time, I’m afraid I don’t even realize I’m being fooled. And really, how could you question this face?