Jesse Macbeth is tonight’s celebrity guest blogger at Iowahawk, and he’s raging against the truth: Stop the Lies.

Iowahawk Guest Commentary
by Jesse Macbeth
Iraq War Veterans Against Google
Breakfast Shift Associate, Wendys of Tacoma

(Photo courtesy Sears Portrait Studios)

As a decorated combat veteran of Bush’s Iraq misadventure, I am all too familiar with the saying “the first casualty of war is truth.” Because this administration sold us a war of empire on a double stack combo of lies, biggie sized them, and served them up with extra mustard. And I was there to see it, man.

My story starts in 2001. I was a sophomore at Mayfield High, a star athlete who was captain of the basketball, football, and track teams, and had singlehandly scored 200 home runs in one memorable wrestling meet against the Riverdale Archies. Obviously, this made me irresistable to girls, and I easily bagged the entire pom squad after winning my 4th straight state debate championship. No sh*t dude, I totally taped the whole thing, but I left it in the VCR and my stupid mom recorded it over with an episode of Wheel of Fortune.

While my incredible athletic and sexual prowess earned me accolades on the field and in the sack, it also earned me many enemies in the halls of Mayfield High. An upperclassman named Dawson became enraged after learning I completely wanged his girlfriend Stacey, who went into a jealous fit after she found out I also wanged her totally hot mom. Then I learned a senior named Bueller had sworn his revenge on me because I smoked his Ferrari with my 600 horsepower VTEC Civic, which does 180 mph in the quarter, easy.

These lying liars went to the principal and started hurling lies. They accused me of drilling the mysterious hole in the girl’s locker room. They accused me of showering in my underpants during PE, when they had no concrete evidence, and also maybe it was because of a medical condition. The accused me of lying, which was a complete lie, because in truth they were the real liars. 

It was then I realized how damaging lies can be, even when the fat Goth poetry club chicks still believe you. I was expelled and my name was banished from the school and state athletic record books, effectively ruining my chances at the NBA. I channeled my anger into my Civic, adding a bitchin’ body kit from Pep Boys, nitrous, and a sweet 4” exhaust tip, but the cops busted me for 300 mph over the limit. Without a diploma or any way to pay the $500,000 speeding fine, the angry judge gave me the hard alternatives: jail, the Army, or male modeling school.