CONSIDER THIS MY FULL CONFESSION
If You’re New: Start Here
Okay. I am writing this quick. Let’s drop the “we” shit. First confession is that this company is only me.
Second (and it’s a doozy): What I was referring to in other posts as a “collectible mug” was in reality a massive amount of cocaine that I purchased (with 115k of the money Leonard had given me) through my cousin Clay Deegan in Reno, Nevada last weekend. I thought it would be easy to “move” in LA; I was oh so naïve. Unable to find a buyer, I (stupidly) decided to sell it through the JeShirt site. It sat around for almost a week.
Last night, out of boredom, I wound up doing a LOT of it. Like, a LOT. Leonard Pilk started banging on my door and I panicked and in a drug-fueled frenzy tried to flush the rest down the toilet. I got through three bricks, at which point the toilet was COMPLETELY clogged with cocaine. Leonard and I got into a fight and the hospital stuff happened. Leonard died. When I returned to my room, I received a message that I had a very real potential buyer interested in the cocaine. But with 1/3 of it flushed (and another half brick up my dumbass nose), I was seriously short on promised inventory. I again freaked out. I found a supply closet at Claremont with a bunch of boxes of powdered bleach and replaced the missing cocaine with it. I don’t know what I was thinking.
I met the drug dealers (three guys wearing hoodies pulled low over their faces, didn’t get a great look) in a parking lot behind the nearby Vons. The deal itself went down pretty smoothly, besides the beginning when the drug dealers made fun of my car in a very mean-spirited way. They of course wanted to test the merch. My heart was pounding faster than Flea on a new set of skins (drums). Luckily, when the main guy did that thing from movies where you stick the knife in a cocaine brick and put some cocaine on the knife and rub it on your gums, he stuck it in one of the three remaining bricks of actual cocaine and not one of the ones with mostly bleach. Otherwise it could have gone south toot sweet. They gave me two big paper bags full of money, not a suitcase like I was expecting.
I returned home relieved and finished cleaning up. I had a voicemail from a member of Leonard’s family that said he had added me to his will last-minute before he passed away. The reading of the will was this morning. It did NOT go as I had hoped.
Here’s something I learned today about “sweet” “wise” old Leonard Pilk: He was the owner of a Haunted House attraction in Michigan that burned to the ground in 1986. He was sued for negligence, successfully, multiple times and carried over 2 million in debt to his dying day (yesterday). The money that he “invested” in JeShirt was money he was hiding. It was never his to give.
The judge who ruled against him? A one Honorable Arthur Stilwell.
And what happened to Stilwell, you ask? Years after the trial, he was found decapitated under “mysterious circumstances”, which makes the crosshairs on the “Stilwell” shirt not even accurate. I have no doubt in my mind that Pilk murdered him or had him killed and was gloating about it via those shirts. Sickening. They’re probably brunching in hell right now laughing at me as I type this.
So I had to give all of the drug money back to his estate. It was still in my car in those bags so I just left them on the curb outside the lawyer’s office and screeched away, pissed off and once again broke, and headed back to Claremont.
Then the day got bad.
I knew something was wrong as soon as I entered the common room. It had been totally wrecked. Garbage all over, “easy chair” flipped, the works. Huh, I thought, and went to my room, not realizing it had anything to do with me. Then Joel, one of the Resident Assistants, came knocking and told me what happened. It was two gentlemen in hoodies (I guess the third guy was doing something else) asking for me and tearing the place up. Apparently they read the Tumblr and had checked out the Twitter feed. I knew my life was in danger. I tweeted asking how to get a gun to protect myself. Joel told me he covered for me but that I needed to leave. I frantically started moving the shirts out to my car by the armful.
I realize now that, knowing they were aware of the JeShirt Twitter, I should not have tweeted the above, because it revealed my location. As I was shoving the fourth load of shirts into the car, they rolled up and the dudes got out and saw me. I ran back inside and they followed. They wanted their money, which was of course, now gone. They had weapons. It quickly escalated into more or less an insane bloodbath. Many of my dearest friends at Claremont perished as I live-tweeted.
I wish I could justify making a memorial shirt for each of the fallen old timers, but since literally NO ONE has purchased a “Leonard” tribute shirt as of this writing, I’m not certain that a “Roger McDaniels” shirt would exactly fly off the shelves (apologies to his family). At one point during the chaos, some old guy came out of his room like a badass with this World War II-looking antique pistol and it seemed like things were going to take a really cool turn, but the gun jammed because it hadn’t been fired in about a hundred years and that was the end of that.
I somehow escaped with my life and most of the shirts. The original “Che Lenos”. The revised “Jay Guevaras”. The Alt color print. The Goof-Up. The Noose. Not the “Turkey Shirts” because there are no “Turkey Shirts”. All of the different Prè shirts. The “Leonard” and “Stilwell” shirts. I escaped with a ton of shirts. They are literally all I have left. I slammed on the gas and got the hell out of there.
Oh, almost forgot, more good news: Apparently the police want to speak with me about Leonard’s death because it turns out being the health care proxy doesn’t mean actually doing the physical unplugging, especially if no one else is in the room, so there’s some more bullshit to wade through on that front. One top of that, I’m desperately on the lookout for more “mug” (cocaine) as I have now developed quite the taste for it but am terrified of buying it anywhere near this area for fear that my ‘bleach-cocaine’ mixture had started to circulate around before people realized what was in it.
I am writing this from a gas station outside of Barstow. I really shouldn’t even be saying that, as I’m fairly certain those guys are aware of the Tumblr blog and I’m definitely going to Tweet this as soon as I’m done writing it. I think I’m going to keep driving for a while. I need to find somewhere safe where I can lay low and ship these shirts as orders come in without fear of being gunned down by drug-world goons or arrested by dickhead cops. I trust that I am in your prayers and hope I make it through this alive.
I started this company with one goal in mind: To sell a fun, cool, clever novelty T-Shirt that combined the faces of Jay Leno and Che Guevara because their first names sounded similar and I didn’t think anyone had done that before. Looking back, I probably would not have moved forward if someone had told me it would completely destroy my life in under three weeks. Win some lose some, I guess. If I happen to turn up dead, someone just please make sure they don’t bury me in one of these fucking shitty, awful shirts.
This confession is also available in shirt form.
- Jason Samuel Woliner