How Jessica Biel’s Ass Stole Christmas
A true story
I apologize for not posting a Christmas video this year. I appreciate that so many of you asked for one; you’re the best! And you deserve something from me on Christmas Day for being unfailing with your support via Buy Me a Beer. So for fun, here’s the 100% true story about how a plump rump stole my Christmas dreams.
Ah, Christmas…what wonders it brings to mind. Happy children, Santa Claus, trees strung with lights, and Jessica Biel’s ass. The latter might be unique to me. I shall forever associate the Yuletide season with the rump of a very young Ms. Biel.
Every Jew down in Jewville liked Sarah’s ass a lot...
But the Biel, who lived north of Jewville, did NOT!
It could be her head wasn't screwed on just right.
It could be, perhaps, that her panties were too tight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all,
May have been that her ass was not remotely small.
The year was 1998, and my girlfriend Sarah May – oh, Sarah, so young, so talented – had just scored a major co-starring role in what was going to be Disney’s major non-animated Christmas release, “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” The film was planned as the movie that would make Home Improvement midget Jonathan Taylor Thomas a big-budget sex symbol.
And we all know how that went.
The film was helmed by uninspired but competent director Arlene Sanford, to be shot in Canada, which is why Sarah, as a dual-citizen, got the role. Back when “runaway production” only involved Canada, casting directors, located in L.A., loved dual citizens because they could be cast down here but count as local hires up north.
A young Jessica Biel was cast to play Taylor Thomas’ girlfriend, and my beloved Sarah was cast as Biel’s best friend, Sierra. The script called for Sarah to be in dozens of scenes with Biel. Sarah was cast because of her height (5’9”) as the director wanted a running gag of Sarah towering over Taylor Thomas, intimidating him. In theory it could have been funny, had the film not been a horrifically-written piece of crap intended only as a vehicle for a diminutive sitcom star.
It took THREE idiots to write that screenplay, and none of them would go on to do anything major except for the one guy whose only other credit is Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo.
Disney only employs the finest writers.
For me, Sarah being cast in a big Disney Christmas film represented something quite meaningful. Sarah was living with me, and we looked forward to the career boost the film would likely give her. As I said, her role was huge – tons of screen time with Biel. I’d go to bed nightly with dreams of what a great Christmas this would be, with the film opening wide globally, Sarah’s face splashed all over the place, her talent recognized, us attending red carpet premieres, me sitting proudly on the sidelines as she does TV interviews, and all the acting jobs to come that would finally let her bring a little money into the household.
Okay, that last part was actually the most important.
I am, after all, a Jew.
I’d been living with Sarah for a year, paying for everything because she was broke. A little offset of my expenses would’ve been nice. We were going to build a gazebo in the backyard and rebuild the old fence surrounding my property and maybe put in a koi pond because feral cats gotta eat too.
Yes, that Christmas, I just knew everything would change. We were both so excited; before she left for British Columbia, I took her to an especially fancy salon on Melrose Place to get some highlights. I don’t remember the name of the stylist, but he was so gay my own ass started bleeding just being in the same room with him (in fact, I actually lit out and walked up the street to a steak joint so I wouldn’t have to sit there like a third wheel while Lightning Loaferman worked his magic).
Sarah was thrilled upon arriving on the set in BC. Her first multimillion-dollar film! When she called to let me know she’d made it safely, she could barely contain her joy.
Four days later came another, different call. Through the uncontrollable crying on the other end, I tried to make out what Sarah was saying.
“I’m cut!” she screamed.
“You’re cut? Did you get hurt?” I knew that when Sarah was back in Vancouver, where she grew up, she’d buy pot from the Asian gangs up there. “Who hurt you, Sarah? Tell me. I’ll fly up tomorrow!”
“No, not cut like that. Cut from the film! Biel’s agent got me cut!”
“What? What do you mean?”
“It’s her ass. They say I’m too skinny, and when she stands next to me it makes her ass look big!”
“But that’s why they cast you; your body-type. They knew all about it.”
“Yeah, and when we filmed our first scene the other day, her manager hit the roof. The producers cut everything except my first scene, because I’m only on screen with Jonathan. NOW I’VE ONLY GOT ONE LINE IN THE ENTIRE FILM!!!”
And so it was. Sarah’s agent got some consolation money from the producers, and Sarah came back home, defeated, dejected. The producers had indeed confirmed to Sarah’s agent the reason that all her scenes were cut: Biel was being groomed for stardom, and her “team” didn’t think she looked good, ass-wise, next to Sarah.
You're a mean one, Misses Biel,
Your ass is full of hate.
It’s as cuddly as a cactus, it’s as blubbery as a seal, Misses Biel…
Your giant booty would make any black man squeal.
You're a foul one, Misses Biel,
Your trunk is full of junk.
Your ass is full of unwashed pants, your anus full of gunk, Misses Biel…
The three words that best describe your butt are as follows, and I quote: "Stink, stank, stunk."
Sarah never acted again, save for one soap opera bit part and some USC kid’s student film. She became depressed, then heavily medicated. She went back home to Canada in autumn of that year, leaving me to face Christmas alone. The film indeed opened wide, and promptly bombed.
Seriously, $35 million budget, $3.9 million box office.
That’s a bomb.
It was such a bomb Ted Kaczynski was like “nice work.”
The Japanese thought the Enola Gay was back.
It killed Wile E. Coyote.
Indeed, it would’ve killed Hitler and everyone in the room in July 1944.
Arabs checked to see if the World Trade Center was still standing.
Tim McVeigh wept over the collateral damage.
Israel shelled Gaza as a reflex action.
J. Robert Oppenheimer saw the film and said, “now YOU are become death, destroyer of cinema.”
I’m just saying it was a big bomb, okay?
Jonathan Taylor Thomas never did become a superstar, eventually leaving the profession to tour with Ringling Brothers as “Minisculio: The World’s Smallest Man.”
And I didn’t learn my lesson about dating actresses. Not nearly.
I don’t blame Jessica Biel’s ass for what happened; it was only acting out of self-preservation. And eventually, Ms. Biel’s ass would find its self-esteem and no longer feel threatened by the asses of others.
Biel puzzled and puzzled till her puzzler was sore,
Then she thought of something she hadn't before.
”Maybe Sarah’s ass,” she thought, “needn’t make mine so sore.”
”Maybe Sarah’s ass, perhaps, means a little bit more!”
And what happened then? Well, in Jewville they say
Jessica Biel’s ass grew three sizes that day.
Much time has passed, and I look back at the incident in good humor these days. That’s why, every year on Christmas Day, I gather ’round the Christmas tree with anyone who’ll listen, usually Mexican laborers who thought they were coming to my house to install drywall (“Biel no es bueno”), and I tell the story of the year that Jessica Biel’s ass stole Christmas.
Have a Merry Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah, and shove Kwanzaa up YOUR ass, be it tight or flabby.
Happy Holidays, one and all!
Welcome, welcome, fahoo anus
Sarah’s ass is in our grasp
So long as we have hands to clasp
If you enjoyed this totally true tale, BUY ME A CHRISTMAS BEER!
You could say Sarah became a pain in the ass!
That Biel story is a real Bumm-er