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That Which You Love: Jack Bauer

It’s me again — Rob Stabone, the TNR rogue staffer. They’re trying to silence me. My phone’s wiretapped, I just know it. The TNR staff doesn’t want you to hear what I have to say. Well guess what? They suck, and the things you like suck too.

  The following lameness occurs between the hours of stupidface and shitforbrains.
  Jack Bauer’s had some long days. Five of them. Remember the time he was like “I’m Jack Bauer, and this is the longest day of my life”? Yeah, well, he’s had five longest days of his life. Guess what Bauer? That’s fucking impossible. It’s common logic. Only one of them can be the longest. So pick a pussy-ass season of your girly show to be the “longest day of your life,” and the others can be runners-up.
  The only thing that lasts longer than those five days is being forced to watch them on TV. Sample dialogue from the lameness that is 24:

Terrorist: “I’m a terrorist!”
Jack Bauer: “I’m Jack Bauer!”
Terrorist: “I have you in a difficult spot from which to escape!”
Jack Bauer: “Hey, look over there! Gotcha! I escaped!”

Yeah right, Bauer, you prick. Like that would ever work. If a pansy like you ever tried to stop a terrorist from doing something, here’s what would really happen.

Terrorist: “I’m a terrorist!”

Jack Bauer: “(running away!)”

  So, what do you do on commercial breaks, Bauer? I bet you take a nap or grab a super-frappied-hold-the-mocha-double-caramel-mocha-hold-the-second-caramel-extra-hot-no-foam-mocha caramel latte. You know, for caffeine. Cuz it’s hard to stay up 24 hours in a row. The show would be sooooo much easier if it were just called 4. Then maybe you could actually handle it without taking commercials, like a real man. You’d probably still ask for a fucking lunch break or something.
  Oh, it’d be cool if you were supposed to be dead and then it turned out you weren’t, and you came back. While you were “busy” being “dead” and living in a comfortable suburb with a bangin’ milf, other agents were killing terrorists and doing cool stuff. You were like, “hey guys I want to be cool and do stuff again too,” but they were like, “fuck off Bauer, you’re dead, we don’t have to hang out with you anymore.”
  In the field, Jack Bauer takes advice from a chick named Chloe. My dog’s name is Chloe. Hey Bauer, if a dude named Fido walked up to you and told you that the terrorists stole his favorite chew toy, would you re-re-re-resign CTU to chase the lead?
  Not only does a girl with my dog’s name give you orders, but so does Sean Astin, a.k.a. Rudy. Rudy tells Jack Bauer what to do, and he does it, ‘cuz he’s a little bitch. Rudy probably got more playing time in college than Jack Bauer did.
  And c’mon Bauer, face the facts: Kiefer Sutherland plays you. That’s probably the lamest thing of all, Bauer. Kiefer Sutherland had no career before 24. If Kiefer Sutherland ever spoke to me, I’d probably kick him in the crotch for letting Bryan Adams sing “all for love” 45,670 times in the mid-‘90s Disney crapfest The Three Musketeers.
  Jack Bauer is a wuss. If you watch 24, you are also a wuss. I’d rather have my eyes poked out with a needle than watch that show. Oh, and if you want me to give away the ending to the rest of this season, so you don’t have to watch it like a wimp, just turn to every other page of this paper or visit www.NUtnr.com.

-The TNR Rogue Staffer

The Northeastern Times New Roman is a satirical student publication. Any references to people living or dead are purely coincidental except in the cases where a public figure is mentioned. The views and opinions expressed here do not necessarily reflect those of the Northeastern Times New Roman or those of Northeastern University. The Northeastern Times New Roman is not meant for readers under the age of 18.

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Please Reclaim Your Love Letter

What you are about to read is real. No joke. The words that follow were scrawled all over a box of heart-shaped donuts (pictured below) and discovered in the trash on Valentine’s day by a TNR staffer. The a few names were changed but any errors were left unedited. If this letter belongs to you or you know to whom it belongs please contact us at tears_smudge@nutnr.com and we’d be more than happy to return this epic monologue to its rightful owner. Otherwise, enjoy and bask in the cruel humor that is love.