Monday, December 25, 2006

HO HO HO Merry Everyone!!!

We’re gonna start this one off with a comment.

I want to complain at this weeks last newsletter. In stats you learn about the regression effect. Which means something will be so good and then the only way it can go is down. Is Jbudd news experiencing the regression effect? Will it suck to the point I mark it as junk mail and not read it. I'll I want for Christmas is JBUDD News with the same caliber, intensity and overall awesomeness of the first issues. The newsletters that lead me to look in the mirror and ask myself. "Am doing what I’m supposed to?" Its safe to say that JBUDD news had almost the same effect as the scriptures in my life. The word of Jesse had power to move belly to the point of pain with laughter. It had power to soften the heart and strengthen the mind. My one Christmas wish, to have the old JBUDD News that changed lives.
Quinton WNC Campbell -- Riverton, UT

I think that brought a tear to my eye. I’m glad I’m replacing the scriptures in your life. I have a dream ladies and gentlemen....

AS for the regression effect. Slap yourself Quin. And write the words “loser” backwards on a piece of paper and hold it up and look into a mirror. WHY would JBUDD news be regressing... because I didn’t write for a week? Well that may be true, but that’s ONLY because I was being lazy. ONLY. NOT because I had no stories... DEFIANTLY NOT.

Well you’re Christmas has been answered Quinny. I wrote a newsletter. And I think I’m gonna start needing some more FEEDBACK, and some more AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION, or else I might start regressing. And YES, that IS a THREAT. SO if you have any neat stories, write it down and email it to me at, DO IT. NOW. STOP READING.

AHHH the great Christmas is over, the beast has been slain once again. This is what I noticed about Christmas. Christmas can be split up into TWO holidays. Christmas eve, and Christmas Day. Both holidays consist of feasting, and roast beasting. And both holiday’s can further be split into 24 hour incriments, which can further be split into 60 minute intervals.

And I LOVE the cover up for santa that movies are creating these days. It’s like these movies are TRAINING videos on what to tell your kids when they start asking about the facts of life, about santa. I’m sure BEFORE movies were out parents were telling there kids all sorts of things. , “Alright Sam. There’s this Chris Cringle character who FLIES around in his magical Bowing 747. BLASTING any naughty kid within his line of vision.” I wonder who first initiated the notty/nice theory. “We’ve gotta get these kids in line, they keep wining and asking for stuff from me...” and then some guy put two and two together. What if we tell these kids that this santa fella will screw them over and jack there stuff in the middle of the night, if they’re being “naughty”(ooh, sounds dirty). And through the years this evolved to what we call today Christmas (how special).
But these movies help keep the story consistent.

Probably the first question one asks the parents about santa is this, “why are you waking me up, and unwrapping presents.” That’s an easy one, thanks to the poem written by Clement Clarke Moore entitled, “the night before Christmas.”
The second question, once there minds start to develop they start to notice that santa is... EVERYWHERE. Every shopping mall, and street corner they go to, santa is there. “How can santa be everywhere at once.” That one’s pretty easy. Because you see, santa hires out these “santa’s little helper” folk. To do his bell ringing and ho, ho-ing. And He’ll take ANYONE really. You don’t even need to look ANYTHING like santa anymore to work for him. Technology has advanced SO far that even YOU who are reading this can become santa. You could be 6'8" and weigh 170LB. They’ve found ways around it. That’s where the Fake beard comes in, and... uh hem... didn’t want to have to say this aloud... but ‘stuffing’ I hate to break it to you, but some Santas... stuff. I’ve seen it MYSELF!
Then the next questions they start to ask start getting complicated, but thank goodness for that Tim Allen movie we call, “the santa clause” as I mentioned before. This movie is the most resourceful movie to ever hit kids. When I have kids I’m gonna pop that movie in, and make them take notes, “there will be a 30 minute timed quiz following the movie. If you miss more then 10 you will not be receiving Christmas this year.”

This movie tells you everything from, how santa gets to the whole world in one night, to how he gets into houses WITHOUT chimney’s and EVEN where santa comes from! ... It still hurts my mind to watch it.

Our society, has gotten santa down to a science. Studies show that by the year 2020 that all adults under the age of 25 will believe in santa Claus.

Ok, now I’ll get to my Christmas story, now that I’ve jabbered

****Gather round the fire and listen to my tale****

There it is, the scariest figure I have ever seen in my life. Ahead of me is a Ginormous clown floating around. I scream for help, no one answers, I seem to be everywhere and no where at the same time. My little mind does not know how to solve this problem on it’s own. Suddenly I realize that I’m wet. WET WITH WHAT??!?! And then it happens....
“wake up Jesse, Santa’s here!”
It wasn’t real... I realized, it was only a nightmare. I’ve only heard of nightmares in story books told by my mother, NEVER had I experienced one in my life. And it confused the crap out of me. But what confused me even more, is why my sister was waking me up.
“Wake up santa’s here”
I’m extremely pissed at this point. I don’t know who this santa guy is, but what is he doing here so early. Waking me up in the middle of my first dream. But I knew I would someday get revenge. After I changed into some dry cloths.
So I trot down these stairs, and am shocked. Someone has made a mess of our ENTIRE family room. And I knew what Jerk had done this.. “santa...” his name resounded in my head. They say that your first 30 seconds of meeting someone is when you decide if you like him or not. I have never met this santa fellow, and he already had my sworn oath to death.

>>>>ANYWAY #1
lets fast forward about 16 years to this very Christmas. I STILL have yet to catch that sneaky little Bword. This year I even built a fort right outside our Christmas tree to catch that little vandal. Our Sworn rivalry has only grown stronger over the years. I named the fort after my dear clown friend from my dream back when I was two, that santa destroyed. I was going to catch santa in his name inside, “Fort Pee Pants.”
I was in my fort, then suddenly I hear some noise... I hear a rustle... “I’VE GOT HIM NOW!!!” I jump out my fort and low and behold, it’s only my dad. “FOILED AGAIN!!!” I thought to myself. And I look, and santa had already been here. I don’t know who this santa creep is... but he’s good. REAL good. But as long as I’m around he’ll only be second best.

I’ve attached pictures of my fort.

Enjoy. And Merry Christmas ;)

Well that finishes the Newsletter for this week. If you want to add anyone to our secret community. Have them email and put the subject as, "ADD"

I'll talk to you again soon.

Your Friend,


If you're robbing a bank and you're pants fall down, I think it's okay to laugh and to let the hostages laugh too, because, come on, life is funny.

“You are a Homo” provided by Drew Dillman

Monday, December 11, 2006

Numero el five-o (it's spanish, you wouldn't understand

Well folks, it's here. Hot off the press. I know you've all been waiting for it like little kids peeking in the toy stores window near Christmas time. Well, this time "Santa" just "happened" to get you what you wanted. Which is the newsletter… understand?

I recently just watched "Santa clause" (note the extra "E") staring Tim Allen. And my small childish brain could never figure out this little phenomenon found within this movie. For those of you who don't know, Tim Allen doesn't believe in Santa until he actually BECOMES Santa. (man it's hard to get to this guys head!) but one thing that bothered my 4th grade mind is this point:
Point number 1:
If the parents don't believe in Santa… THEN WHERE IN THE WORLD ARE THE PRESENTS COMING FROM!?

Understand my dilemma? And I don't think I ever truly understood this phenomenon, this paradox, until my senior year in high school…
So I walk into seminary, and the teacher says to me… "ok, today we're going to be responding to children who have mailed Santa." …. I was crushed… I didn't sleep that night.

>>>>>ANYWAY #1

Ok folks, this story is one of great magnitude. You guys will probably write this in you're journals at how great it is. And as usual, with greatness comes great sacrifice. I searched my soul for days trying to decide if I was going to share this story with you. But In the end I thought to myself, "Where does my loyalty lie?" and I realized that I shouldn't be thinking about myself, and my pride, my reputation. But I should think more about the better cause. Which is making you guys laugh.

This story is one of those story's that I'm going to end up telling my grandchildren. And I personally think that all you lady fan's out there are going to thoroughly enjoy this. Excited? Well you better be, or else I'm gonna stop writing.

So the beginning of the semester. Like the first day I meet subject "A". let me rephrase, I meat subject GIRL "A" And long story short, I left my keys at her apartment, so I have to go back there, and she invites me for dinner, I eat with them, tear it up, and BOOM. She likes me. SWEET!! Right? Just you wait…

So we get into a relationship where we AREN'T going out. Ya know? The type where we both say, "naaah" I found myself only liking her because she's FINE. But we're still sort of going out, but not at the same time ya know? OH, quick side note:

Side note #1:
So near the begining, I'm giving her some cheesy romantic massage. I PULL back her hair behind her ear. She's like basically asleep on her stomach. I think to myself, "self, this is really cheesy, I don't like…" So what do I do, that's right you bet I did. I SHOVE my finger UP her nose! That'll show her! Well yeah she freaked out!
So fall break hits, she goes back to Logan where she's from. Then we come back. Then about three weeks later I realized something… I haven't talk to her since then… hmm… I'm pretty dingy like that. I forget to keep track of my wemen, if you know what I mean. So I figure something's wrong… yada yada yada, fast forward to about Tuesday this week. She's… uh hem… ENGAGED!

ENGAGED?! I felt like I was on singles ward. You know you live at BYU when you can be "not" going out and then a month later they're engaged.

So what do I do when I found this out? That's right boys, I laughed. I laughed really…. Hard. Here are some thoughts I had:

For starters, "was I that bad that I drove you to marriage?"
Now lets dig deep into this doctrine. So she had this boyfriend she broke up with before she came down here. And that's who's she's marrying. So here's some more thoughts, "I was IN THE WAY of a marriage?" "I was that jerk guy that they argued about?" "I'm that guy in sweet home Alabama that gets skrewed?" "…… COOL!"

Well that concludes my story. Whitney, if you end up reading this… HAHAHA! Why are you reading my newsletter? SERIOUSLY! You're getting married! You can't be thinking about me all the time!
p.s. she's marrying a guy named bugs. Which I found ironic because in all reality my alarm is set to the actual song, "BUGS" by pearl jam. So I attached that file for you guys to listen to and think of me. THE END.

Hey Jesse this your biggest best friend Elder Dunn.
this is the last letter that I will read for two years because I am going on a mission on Wednesday the 6th. peace out I love you man. and if you could make up a totally sweet story about me so that I go down with eternal glory to the newsletter than my life mission would be complete. I have lived a good life and I bid you all aduei..... or adui.....or adeui. OH HECK gracias.

Oh so what you're saying is you're never gonna read what I write to you? So I could write how much I hated you and you'll never read it? …this could be fun. Like an fu..n experience.
For starters, we do not use that kind of language on the newsletter. "HECK?" what the "H" is that? We will use "H" for now on. As for the "Aduei" I believe that is FRENCH. Which is a language NO ONE cares for. I mean the spell "bo" "beaux" You can only use two languages per writing. And you used your other one up with "gracias." And need I remind ,"my biggest fan" about the purpose of this letter? That it's meant for me to be FUNNY? So to carry the rest of this out, I need to give this letter to Spud Budd. You are now reading…

Oh, Phillip, oh Phillip, how I long to sit under a mango tree with you, but alas, we live in two different worlds. Me at BYU, you at the MTC. How I long to make music with you… ACTUALLY me and Phil are going to start a band when we get off our missions, and we're going to be rich! Like EVERY OTHER garage bands out there! Well in closing love ya Phil, convert all of Mexico for me.

Now see? Isn't spud budd news so much more BORING then JBUDD NEWS?


I did my part to spread the creepy-santa goodness of your movie. I showed
it to two of my chemistry classes on the projector. A bunch of immature
high school kids, so of course they loved it. Keep it up and soon you will
take over the world, just remember what I did to further your cause. Maybe
when you are king of the world, you will let me have some royal benefits
like unlimited creamies. Those are good.

Your servant,

Now THERE's a faithful servant. What are all YOU slackers doing for me lately? NOTHING! Except Kyle challis and Brad Clawson. Which I'm very greatful for.

As for the creamies… what about half of unlimited? I want the other half.

As many of you don't know, Ashley webb. (that's right, Casey Webb's sister.) now known as Ashley BUDD (maried my bro.... not me.) is a school teacher. That's right all you high school poindexters. She could be teaching one of YOU! So you better watch out, you better not cry, you better not POUT I'm telling you why… Ashley Budd is coming to town.


Sadly my dear people I am actually responding to the lengthy crap which I
receive weekly form this "JBudd" who ever the #$%@ he is. I do so for a
terrible reason which I should be mocked eternally for because I realized
it in the first place. You see Mr. JBudd stated, in his latest installment
of weekly bull, that his "half pound" bean and rice burrito was not a half
pound and then concluded that it weighted a meager 2/9 of a kilogram.
Ironically a kilogram weighs 2.2 pounds so if you want to know what 2/9 of
2.2 pounds is you will conveniently find out that it is .466... pounds which
if we round up would be exactly .5 pounds of 1/2 pound making it the exact
weight that it should have been. If we simply factor out the heat lost
while he carried it to his seat of the grease that left the hamburger when
it was cooked we can simply conclude that the weight was 1/2 of a pound and
therefore taco bell is not a satanic institution trying to extract poor
college students money in hopes of screwing them into poverty. I will not
leave my name due to the fact that I actually thought about this and worked
out the math and therefore I am scared that all of the nerds actually
reading this will think that I am a nerd which would make me the lesser nerd
or nerdier nerd.


Ben you don't realize that as I'm writing this you are two feet away from me asleep. I hope you've always wanted a drawn on mustache…


hello again!!! so basically, I've already learned A LOT about web design hahaa.... I mean, the site looks simple, but it takes a lot of work, thanks for letting me do this job!!!

If you could email me a list of what you'd like done, that'd be very nice. Thanks!


Well this of course is not near finished. It'll be sweet. I've never been thanked for having people do me favors.
That is such a humble and awesome thing to do. Thank someone for giving you work to do because it's teaching you stuff. It's like going to you math professor and thanking him for making the final so hard. And for the lady fans: it's like when you played kissing tag in first grade and that kid you liked pushes you down and ruins your new outfit, and you thank him for that. Sorry girls, I've repented. Well… AWESOME kyle.

Well that finishes the Newsletter for this week. If you want to add anyone to our secret community. Have them email and put the subject as, "ADD"

I'll talk to you again soon.

Your Friend,


If you smell your hands right after you hold a bunch of pennies. You can pretend for a moment that you're actually a robot.

Wednesday, December 6, 2006

I’m proud to present to you number 4!

Well brethren and sistren. What a site it is to be witnessing the building up of JBUDD NEWS enterprises. We started out as a couple of weirdo's from a small film club started at Riverton. And now our branches are reaching from sea to shining sea. And none of this could have been possible without the support of you guys. And most of all…. Me. ;)


Yesterday was a pretty fantabulous Friday night. And I'm going to hit some very key points on the BYU lifestyle. So you better be taking notes. I'll start off with the top 10 ways you know you go to byu.

Top 10 ways to tell if you go to BYU.
10. If the question, "what language do you speak" is a common small talk.
9. If the most popular pick up line is, "will you marry me?"
8. If girls start picking up on YOU, because the general male population is too terrified to make the initiation.
7. If you're 25 and you've never held a girls hand.
6. IF you're male and 20, then no girls are talk to you…. And you probably live in a tower ringing church bells every hour on the hour, talking to gargoyles.
5. You walk in on someone head banging to Mo Tab.
4. IF Cosmo actually IS your hero.
3. If you walk out of class because they mention the author, "Balzac"
2. If "more holier than thou." Isn't just a phrase, it's a reality.
1. If you're offended by this newsletter

Well of course there ARE normal people that go to BYU. But generally speaking, the generalations of the generality of BYU is a complete understatement. I've got some stories that make singles ward seem like a…. cat. Compared to a… BIG cat. If you get my drift.

So I go with my roomies, (who's name's can't be disclosed) To the great Taco Bell of Provo. Now I've heard stories of this place, for I am no ordinary taco bell customer. I STUDY taco bell.

Side note:
The taco bell on 9000 south and 700 East in sandy is the best taco bell I've gone to.

SO we walk into this taco bell. And it was like walking into the depths of aych ee double toothpicks.

Side note2: I don't think you realize how hard it is to move to Utah and get used to the slang here. I mean, we've got NASA scientists working on our language. Trying to CRACK our CODE. "He double toothpicks what the heck are they talking about?" "what the H is heck?" " what the badword is H?" "…they're good… I don't trust those some beaches" "I think they are planning an attack" "yes, up in them mou-ains they are"

So this taco bell is literally and the blazing temperature of 90 degrees. And I order a uh hem… HALF POUND beef and potato…. HALF POUND! Long story short, it's not even CLOSE to a half pound. I was ashamed to even be using the standard system to measure it's weight. I would guess it was about a 2/9 of a Kilogram.

So we go to this byu dance party thing where all the freshman live. This was a shocking experience for me, for I live with a bunch of RM's ("RM? What the glaven does that mean?") at our complex. SO when I saw all these freshman they seemed so young, and displayed many of the top 10 list above. They were mixing non alcoholic strawberry daiquiri's, cookies, rice crispy's, a d.j. they were trying to make it like a Mormon frat party.

Now this first comment will make up the bulk of this newsletter so It deserves an intro. This story was brought to you by Quinton W. N. C. Campbell III the title of it is, "Service, isn't it About Time?" yes… yes it is Quin. Lady's and Gentlemen, QUIN CAMPBELL

During this semester at USU I was able to step outside my comfort zone and serve in way's I've never be able to. When I was a child I received a blow to the back of the head with a baseball bat. I wasn't in a gang fight or anything exciting, just a baseball game gone horribly wrong. After a mild concussion and stitches. By which an exceedingly great amount of blood gushed forth. A realization came to my little second grade mind. People bleed a lot I should donate blood. I'm not joking I really and truly thought that. I wanted to donate blood because people out there could have been bleeding like me.
Well the clock kept ticking and I was a freshman in college and I had yet to achieve my second grade desire. All because a needle, no larger then the smallest blade of grass, In which I was certain contained pain and death. Horrified I approached the table with the large "donate today" sign. They directed me towards a cold metal chair and a clip board. After the clip board had racked my soul for ever prior medical issue in my life and my deepest darkest secrets. A tall man dressed in black directed me to a dark corner that seemed as though it came from the very depths of hell.
In this corner, makeshift walls hid us from the world. I then was interrogated for what seemed like an eternity concerning if I had aids. I kept my cool and assured the man I that I did NOT. He kept questioning, his tactics stiffened. the use of a computer was implemented. My heart pounding I continued to answer I was aid free and had never been to Africa. He started asking more questions about many STDs some that I'd never heard of. I began to panic. Sweat began to perspire from my very brow. Who is this guy? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME. What if I DID have aids and didn't know it? What if I had in fact done the baby making kiss with some aid infested person? What if I shared a needle with Magic Johnson over spring break and didn't remember? The man had pushed me into a state of fear. Surprisingly I held strong, never confessing to the possibility of having aids or some other disease making my blood unworthy. The man looked unsatisfied at a lack of my confession, and then poked my finger drawing some blood. He "said" that he was testing my blood type but we all know he didn't trust my word and was further probing for aids. Pleased with my bloody finger he gave me the okay to donate.
I was seated in an awkward chair with INCREDIBLE folding capabilities. A nice lady with similar features as my dear Grandmother came and began cleaning my flesh where the blood would be drawn. I turned my head, she thrust the needle into my flesh and an incredible thing happened… nothing.
I looked back to see her moving the needle around it clearly having punctured my skin. I felt no pain it was more of an annoying pinch but no pain. She was moving the needle around trying to inject it into a vain. Then this sweet little lady said something I'll never forget,
"You have tough little veins." She said it in such a sweet tone all I could reply was "Thank you very much," attempting to sound as merry and sweet as she had sounded. No sooner had I thanked her she looked up from the needle into my eyes perhaps looking at my very soul and quickly exclaimed, "It's not a good thing honey!" I was crushed needless to say. I didn't want to have small tough veins. I never thought that I would have veins lacking in donating ability.
This only made me more determined to give blood. The lady in charge was summoned to attempt to see if she could stab my "tough little" veins with a needle. Taking the needle she jabbed into my arm. A jolt of pain rushed through my arm. "Oops, I seem to have gone through the vein." For perhaps one second I envisioned myself internally bleeding and suffering a slow painful death. But it wasn't a big deal she switched to my other arm and boom 5 minutes later I was out of there. I learned a lot that day about giving blood. I learned that for the most part it really doesn't hurt that bad and when you do it your literally saving someone's life.
I don't think people realize how much service they can do by simply smiling and talking to someone, sincerely caring about that person. We all feel down at one point in time and all it takes is one person to smile or compliment us to brighten our day.
Great success story. Read it. love it. crave it. A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to give blood too. And I waved as it passed by, but Colin pushed me into it. So I had the same problem with the veins being small. My experience was really painful, and Colin and Jake showerhammer (not going to try to spell it.) said I looked like I was dying. I was freaking out the whole time, yelling obscenities. "Holy jeepers this hurts mam!" The thing about giving blood that kind of bothered me is this.
Point 1: You are stealing ME. ME is slowly dripping into a bag. I used to be 1 full Jesse, now I'm Jesse minus 1 quart. Doesn't that BOTHER you?
Point 2: I am literally slowly dying laying in that chair, if they continued the procedure, I wouldn't be writing this to you today. But LUCKILY some scientist realized that the donors don't permanently die if you only take 1 quart.
while I was laying in that chair flashing through my childhood memories. Up afar on the floor, I see a man. And he sees me in my agony. He comes to the railing and leans over the edge smiling. And he waves at me. And I wave back. The nurse sais to me, "do you know this person? And I said back. "He's my guardian angel."
In the end I had no Idea who the guy was, and I think he thought I was someone else. But we got a good laugh out of it.

Dear Jesse,
I have quite the dilemma to overcome. As a student at Utah State, some
of my main objectives are to learn and achieve. So it wouldn't
surprise you to hear that I am excelling at the sport of badminton.
Sometimes my roommate (QWNC III) and I play, but he isn't much of a
challenge for me. My abilities just don't seem to be improving anymore
because winning just comes too easily now. What should I do to
continue an educational experience in this subject?
Exuberantly Yours,
Well… That's some dilemma you've got going there. But if you heed to these principles I'm sure you can get through it.
As a great rapper once said, success is 10% luck, 20% skill, 15% concentrated power of will, 5% pleasure, 50% pain, And 100% reason to remember the name!
Well I'm not sure if he ever took math, but his number's end up being 200%... NOT important.
The problem, I can tell, from the way you ask it, isn't so much QUIN, But actually YOU. You need to stop loping around and wallowing in your misery, and you need to get out there and find some new competitors. Let me explain to you a principle called the 'next' principle.
When you've been working on a person for awhile, and they just aren't showing any improvement/competition. What you got to say to yourself is simply, 'next.' There are thousands of fish in the sea, and they all want to play badminton with you Jorien. Now get out there and meet them! They're playing on YOUR field. They listen to YOU. Understand? And if you go into this game with this attitude, You'll find that you'll be more successful. You'll start to ATTRACT the better minton players. Instead of you going to them.
Love ya Joreo. Till we meet again.

haha that was lovely! this is the first one ive actually sat down and read, but i plan on reading them from here on out :P

P.S. if you are interested in making a website, i'm in the Web Design business, and i'd gladly make you one! –Kyle Challis

why thanks kyle. I'm planning on reading them from here on out also.
I've already been collaborating with Chyle Kallis, and a website is under development. The website will bind "film club reloaded" together with "JBUDD NEWS" into one enourmous recourse for multi media and entertainment. And all you chums will be able to help progress the movement of the website by adding your own video's and graphics, and songs. And eventually this website will continue to grow until it fills the whole earth.

you totally walked into my Cadence class the other day.


Well that finishes the Newsletter for this week. If you want to add anyone to our secret community. Have them email and put the subject as, "ADD"

I'll talk to you again soon.

Your Friend,


Robots could rise up in open rebellion against mankind and rule the earth we being the slaves if we become careless and give them battery packs we need to stick with short cords making them unable to move far from the wall and being able to unplug them if we sense the threat of organization. Hopefully this essay will convince you of this fact. Together brother we will not be ruled by machines! -Quinton w.n.c. Campbell III
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