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Put the money in your bra! Jack Johnson arrest and Google doppelgangers

By Alexandra Petri

Jack Johnson arrested!

The story itself is ridiculous enough. After FBI agents spent years building a case against him, Jack Johnson accepted a bribe check from developers. Then the law came down. Put the money in your underwear, Jack Johnson allegedly suggested to his wife on the phone, and "flush that check!"

Now, as a plumber is apparently there sifting through to find the check, I really would like this to become a dance move.

Take a bribe!
Get an FBI call!
Call your wife!
Flush that check!
Put the money in your bra!
(I don't know)
Put the money in your bra!
Flush that check!

There's a knock!
Put the money in your bra!
Flush that check!
Get the door!
$76,000 dollars?
That's a big bra!

Get on this, D.C. remixing scene! This can be the Bra Intruder song for the people on the other side of the law.

Still, I bet you clicked on it because you thought it was that mellow individual with all the hemp attire.

This is the problem with living in the age of Google. Trust me. I had a friend named Michael Jordan at college. He's a cool guy, but he's almost impossible to find on Google, because somebody else with the same name had to come along and be the world's greatest basketball player.

I am aware of another Alexandra Petri. She appears to be a journalism major at U. Penn. If she ever googles herself, I bet she's uncomfortably aware of me as well. Your Google doppelgangers dog you for the whole course of your life -- bound by the strange cord of a shared name to someone you may well never meet. You're closer than Jekyll and Hyde. They didn't have to worry about the Google trail!

It comes in handy sometimes, of course. Show up at a job interview and face inquiries about controversial blog posts describing yourself as "The Eighth Coming"? That must be some other Alexandra Petri.

Sometimes it comes in less handy, for instance when there appears to be a memorial page to you on Facebook. "I'm still here!" you write on the wall. "That's really tasteless," the bereaved's mother notes, and suddenly your account is deleted.

Sometimes it's just bizarre. I recently got a call from someone looking for the other Alexandra Petri, apparently to include her in some sort of documentary about Salem. I was going to attempt to impersonate her, but I figured that would end badly, since my knowledge of witchcraft is limited to watching a 24-minute video about Christine O'Donnell one time.

And if your doppelganger does something wrong? That's your name on the line, too! It's a new problem for our era. Someone does something awful, and suddenly all the other Josef Fritzls look bad.

Now I bet poor Jack Johnson feels the same way. But I think he should embrace it.

Maybe he can write the song!

By Alexandra Petri  | November 12, 2010; 8:09 PM ET
Categories:  Epic Failures, Only on the Internet, Petri  | Tags:  Google, Jack Johnson  
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Comments

When I read that "police found $79,600 cash in her bra," I understood why the 120 decibel siren on top of the Washington Post building had just gone off for the first time since Monica Lewinsky put that cigar between her lips in 1995. I guess the entire ComPost staff will be working overtime all weekend.

At first I thought that Amy-Erin Blakely had won her "large breasts lawsuit," but it turned out that it was Leslie Johnson's fake breasts that were trying to cash in. If only she had listened to her husband and put the money in her "underwear" instead of her bra, we'd all be singing a different tune now:

Cutey!
Put the booty in the booty,
Not the money in the bra,
Honey!

And that amateur plumber will NEVER find the check in the toilet. The first, second, and third law of plumbing club is, "sh*t runs downhill" (I talked about plumbing club. Oh s*it).

Check... for the check
In the sewer. (not me)
Check... for the check
In the freezer. (it's worth a shot)

I'm not sure what this has to do with money breasts, but my name used to be "Josef Fritzls." I had to change it to "divtune" after 30 people called wanting to rent my basement, and I already have people locked down there.

Back on topic... I've heard that the women at the ComPost are all keeping big wads of cash in their bras too now. I don't work for the ComPost, Petri. So if you expect me to keep writing comments all weekend, you're going to have to SHOW ME THE MONEY!

Posted by: divtune | November 13, 2010 3:08 AM | Report abuse

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