We never learned much about Pam beyond that she
was an ambitious, caring woman interested in medicine. Besides her one low point
in agreeing to appear on The Real World, she always seemed like a decent
enough person. After the show ended, so did our thoughts of her, until rumors
started pouring in that *gasp* Pam was now dating Judd. Could it be? Wouldn't a
Harvard graduate such as herself be smart enough to stay away from the likes of
Judd? A few of Pam's personal diary entries may finally clue us in as to how the
October 6, 1996
Last night was my first date with Judd. I wish I could say I remember it
vividly, but honestly most of the details I recall are hazy at best. Yesterday
afternoon, I told Judd that I would be going to the movies with a couple
friends. Judd, the gentlemen that he is, offered me some Tic-Tacs. I declined,
but then he insisted, saying he couldn't live with himself if he let such a
pretty woman go out with offensive breath. I didn't realize I smelled that
horribly, so I obliged. The last thing I remember was the flavor... the Tic-Tacs
sure didn't taste like wintergreen. The next thing I knew, I was picking my head
up off the table at a fancy steak restaurant. I was frightened, not remembering
how I arrived there or when I had cancelled my previous plans, but Judd grasped
my hands assuring me everything was okay. I must have been tired from my medical
rounds earlier in the day, but I'm still surprised that I would have become so
bored by the conversation that I'd actually doze off. Of course, I must remember
who my dinner companion was, this sort of thing probably happens to Judd all the
At the end of the night, he asked when he could take me out again. I declined
the offer, suggesting we might be better off as friends. I don't think Judd took
it well... let's just say that at that point Cory lost the title of
"Biggest Crier of the San Francisco season."
December 2, 1996
Judd stopped by at my place again last night to show me an antique watch he just
bought. Apparently he wanted my opinion of it, as if I'm some sort of appraiser.
He took it out of his coat and dangled it by the chain slowly in front of my
face. I think I told him it was nice or whatever and then started to feel
extremely sleepy. Oddly, I can't quite recall what happened after that... All I
know is that this morning I awoke to find a "JUDD & PAM 4EVA"
tattoo on my ass. I keep trying to scrub it off, but alas, it seems permanent.
Marked by the Devil,
February 26, 1997
This morning I awoke to a loud crash in the bathroom. I was frightened at the
possibility of an intruder, so I instinctively grabbed for a candlestick holder
to defend myself. I proceeded towards the bathroom and was able to identify the
"burglar" before even opening the door, the scent of Judd's infamous
"matzo fart" lingered in the air. My initial thought was to go ahead
and attack the bastard anyway, figuring that I could probably convince the
police that I mistook him for a prowler, and beside, no jury with cable would
ever find anything wrong with killing the world's biggest panty waste. But then
I realized I couldn't possibly plug my nose to avoid the stench and successfully
murder him at the same time, so I put down the brass weapon. I pushed the door
open with my one free non-nostril-squeezing hand, a move I now regret, because
who knows if I might have found a pant-less Judd on the toilet exposing his
Little (emphasis on little) Judd surrounded by a pound of the curliest pubic
hair known to man.
Instead, I found Judd tampering with my bottle of scarlet hair dye. He was
injecting some suspicious powdery substance into the container as I screamed at
him. "How did you get in here? I told you to leave me alone! Get out!"
He flashed me his patented whimpering puppy dog face, you know, the one that's
far more pathetic than cute, feigning innocence. "What are you doing with
my hair coloring stuff?" I asked. Judd stammered some excuse about needing
to use the john and that he did nothing to the bottle, but I knew this was a
lie. There was crimson dye all over my sink, for goodness sakes, not to mention
all over Judd. I literally caught him red handed! (Hahahaha, now that's
funny, "cartoonist" boy could learn a thing or two from me!) I pushed
him towards my front door, urging him to get out. Alas, he left... both my
apartment and the toilet seat up. Enraged, I put new streaks in my hair with the
bottle he had been fidgeting with to calm my nerves, only to suddenly feel woozy
and horny simultaneously. It's a good thing I had convinced Judd to leave, or I
might have thrown myself at him, and I certainly wouldn't want to give him the
In retrospect, I wish it were an armed burglar rather than Judd; that'd have
been a more pleasant situation to deal with. Even if I had been killed, it'd
save me the horror of having to face Judd and his lame attempts to woo me each
Better off dead,
July 13, 1998
Judd has now moved in. I can't believe I let it get this far. For a while I kept
faking headaches to avoid having to go on dates with him, but he'd always whip
out his "special aspirin" to make me feel better. Before I knew it,
I'd be at a pool hall with him, at the ballet with him, or even at the romantic
Italian restaurant with him. I sure seem to have a selective memory, because I
never recall agreeing to go to any of these places. That Italian restaurant was
probably the worst. Judd paid some singer to serenade us with some bizarre song
for half an hour straight. It went on for so long, the chorus is still ingrained
in my mind. "Map, uoy tsum evol mih. Evol mih map. Llaf rof mih, map. Dduj
dna map dluohs evah stol fo xes. Ssik dduj. Etad mih!" The odd thing was,
it really didn't sound like any Italian I had heard before.
Of course, nothing gets as bad as his cartoons. Ugh, him and his damn cartoons.
I swear, most mornings I have to bite my lip and think about his glaring
physical inadequacies just to muster a laugh. "Hee hee, yeah, Judd... that
Frumpy the Clown does have some hilarious commentary on Catholicism." I
suppose I'm partially to blame, though. I'm the one who suggested basing his
strip around a clown. I guess I figured that since people associate clowns with
humor, they might accidentally equate the comic with actual comedy. So much for
me and my big mouth (an asset that goes wasted with Judd's little member).
Last night I finally tried to call off this "relationship" once and
for all. He tried to make me drink this bubbling tonic he concocted to
"change my mind," but I refused. That's when he pulled out his trump
card... a note from Pedro.
It's awfully peculiar that Pedro would write such a thing. I recall his
handwriting being loopier, and it's not his style not to include either a smiley
face or heart as the dot of the exclamation point. And he used the Nike slogan??
It is rather funny that after all these years, Judd suddenly found this note as
I was trying to break up with him. But I always respected Pedro, and if he
thinks Judd and I could have something special, I guess I could attempt to put
up with Judd just a little longer... annoying hand gestures and all.
Serious relationship/serious problem,
March 23, 1999
This morning, just like each morning for the past three weeks, I awoke to find
an engagement ring on my finger. I always ask Judd how it got there, and he
elaborately details his preceding night's proposal. I'm rather embarrassed --
he's proposed to me over twenty times now, and I've forgotten each time after I
wake up. It's almost as if they never really happened. What's especially
difficult to believe is that, according to him, I've accepted his proposition
each time. I mean, there's not exactly a fine line between loving and loathing,
and towards Judd, I feel the latter.
Unfortunately, I began to feel guilty about being such a tease. What sort of
woman calls off her engagement dozens of times? I figure if there's a part of me
that falls enough in love with Judd for a few moments, there's a chance that
eventually I'll be able to feel that way full time. All right, that chance is as
fat as Judd's head, but we'll see.
Looks like I'm getting hitched,
July 17, 2001
My mom called today. She received her wedding invitation and went stark raving
mad at the news. She doesn't like Judd to say the least. In fact, she only
agreed to take a copy of Pedro & Me] after she realized it could prop
up her television. She inquired in bitter, broken English, "Aren't there
some nice eligible psych patients you could try dating?" I admit, I briefly
considered her suggestion, but Judd would have none of it. "You want to end
up marrying a crazy man?!" he asked in disbelief. I suppose that's exactly
what I'm afraid of.
Dreading my wedding day,
August 26, 2001
Today was the big day - my wedding, supposedly the most blissful day of my life.
If that's true, please kill me now. I didn't have any bridesmaids (because Judd
doesn't allow me to have any friends), so my husband-to-be took over the
maid-of-honor traditions. Something old: A spent condom he kept from one of many
sexual encounters I don't recall. Something new: An unused rubber for us to use
on our honeymoon. Blech. Something borrowed: A copy of Pedro & Me
from the library, which I will need to return in six days or face overdue
charges. On a side note - the slip revealed this is the first time the book has
ever been checked out. Something blue: A can of teal hair dye, admittedly the
most thoughtful (if you can call it that) gift of all, although it probably
should have been Viagra if he actually intends to use that new condom.
I can understand why Judd had to resort to such cheap-o presents, the wedding
being extremely expensive and all. Not that our reception was lavish by any
means, but when you have to pay the guests to sit through the ceremony, it
really starts to add up. I was hesitant to walk down the aisle, deciding I
shouldn't go through with this wedding if my heart wasn't truly with it. When
the music procession began and I didn't step out, I quickly discovered why Judd
insisted on sewing magnets into my dress. An attraction, certainly stronger than
anything I'll ever feel for Judd, yanked me to the front of the temple by force.
The ceremony itself was a laughingstock. Some hobo Judd found read a narrative
by Paul Reiser, coincidentally, the one person less funny than Judd himself.
When the rabbi came to the point to ask if anyone saw reason for us not be
married, Judd hastily cut him off, demanding that he skip over that part, much
to the chagrin of everyone in attendance. I vomited twice during his longwinded
vows, which included the extremely romantic line: "I wed thee, Pam, in
honor of Pedro." My vow was just seven sweet words: "As if I even have
a choice." Right before the "I do's," I resolved to make one last
attempt to escape this matrimony. As I turned to sprint for the door, I found
Judd's foot firmly standing my flowing train, preventing me from going anywhere.
I tried to back away from the kiss, but he came at me with full force, open
mouth. I bit his tongue in retaliation, which continued to bleed throughout the
reception line. The guests threw cooked rice at us at Judd's urging, partially
to "celebrate my Chinese heritage" and partially to "soften the
blows on Judd's delicate skin." The reception was every girl's dream...
Judd doing karaoke for three hours followed by some surprise lip-synching fun
with RWLA Tami.
Unhappily ever after,
December 16, 2001
The honeymoon was downright horrendous. Judd found some coupon for a
"romantic getaway" in North Dakota. Originally I was okay with this
idea, figuring that the ND populace doesn't have electricity, let alone basic
cable, so I'd finally be able to avoid the constant glares of pity from
passersby when Judd's holding my hand. But once there, I realized there was no
source of entertainment whatsoever, which left nothing for my hirsute husband
and I to engage in beyond bedroom activities. Welcome to hell.
Back at home, life isn't much better. I tend to spend as many hours at the
hospital as possible, preferring the company of the feebleminded and comatose to
Judd. The other day I became ecstatic after a memo revealed Dr. Kevorkian was
joining our staff. Turns out it wasn't the Dr. Kevorkian, but for a few
precious moments I had a glimmer of hope that I'd be able to escape this
Tonight I plan on tying my own tubes. I refuse to get pregnant by this man. Sure
the procedure will be painful, but not as painful as having to watch Judd's
genes passed on to future generations.
Waiting to die,
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