What's the deal with "the
real Jeff Orr"?
For years I had blissfully walked through life without even the slightest notion that this seemingly bright and clear world could hold vile beings in its dark and murky depths. Then, in high school, I started to get a feeling that something was amiss. I heard rumors of another boy, one year older than me, who "looked just like" me. I never actually met this wraith face to face, but numerous people informed me of his existence. Somewhat perplexed, I devoted some free time to exploring the circumstances that could create "another me". Through the years I studied the sciences that are only discussed in the fringes of society and I've developed a number of theories. I'll save those for a later date, for this is simply a brief overview of my experiences with fake Jeff Orr's.
The high school dopple ganger never really caused me any serious inconvenience and after a few years my interest in alternate Jeff Orr's started to wane. That is, until my sophomore year in college. Creating a personal website was all the rage in my circle of friends and after the success of devlindonnelly.com (now defunct) and curtbanner.com I decided to join the scene. However, I soon realized that jefforr.com was in use,
by a man proclaiming to be me! Not only was this impostor using my name to further his lot in life, he was using the website to promote his wedding! I feel a great deal of sorrow for the young lady, for she no doubt believed she was marrying the real deal. Not only was this
thing using my domain name, but he sat on it for
years. Long after his sham of a wedding his site still existed, announcing a wedding that was now only available to time travelers.
Months ago I received a friend request on the highly acclaimed social networking site Myspace. It was from none other than Jeff Orr. At first I was a little put off at the thought of being "friends" with a fake me. Then I came to the realization that he was a musical artist. Things were starting to look better, perhaps there were people out there doing cool things under my name. But my hopes were quickly dashed against the jagged shores of reality. This musician Jeff Orr was of the worst variety, he was a middle-age-still-trying-to-look-hip-douchey-wuss-christian-rock-musician. He has also taken over jefforr.com. Visit the site if you want to feel some of my hate radiating through the internet. I have more to say on the subject of this, my most hated duplicate, but I shall save it for a later post.
After the "rock star" (quotation marks denote irony, not an actual quotation) Jeff Orr incident I decided that I could not take this in passivity. I must act fast and let the world know that
I am the real Jeff Orr. I'll be using this web-log to inform the world of my many theories on the subject (which include multiple varieties of time travel, cloning, alternate spatial dimensions, and the awesome paradox). This site will also chronicle my existence so that the world may bear witness to the actions of the one true Jeff Orr.
Until my next electronic communique,
I remain,
The Real Jeff Orr
On the train ride into Tokyo I was almost destroyed by a Kamehameha blast
This is the view from Mikey's room...basically his back yard is full of dead Buddhists
Five minutes after getting into Tokyo Pat partakes in the local culture
Japanese arcades are pretty wicked...mostly because you can drink and smoke in them.
Towards the end of the night we had a few beers with this cat...what happened next is a bit hazy though
Trying to follow my Mom's advice to not look retarded in every picture
On our way to Japanese Denny's
This is the cities main municipal building...its pretty much one of the tallest buildings left in Tokyo after they passed an ordinance against them in 1985. They were just attracting way too many monsters
SMILE!
We found this pretty cool little cafe called the Cafe Cotton Club...its coolness to emptiness ratio was off the charts
We ended the day at the Horse Shoe Cantina where I was forced to abandon my horse
construction and is always full of more potholes than Rip Torn's grizzled visage. Whenever I drive through there I get a slight glimmer of hope that the two lanes might allow me to pass some of the slower traffic. However, the facts that the stop lights in that demon-pit are fucking schizophrenic and the drivers there are borderline retarded, always results in me getting stuck behind even more slow cars than when I entered this Mos Eisley of the north state.
