No!! He's the fifth Jerry the Fifth this week and I'm getting a little tired of it. I mean, yeah, I was drunk pretty much every day in college and I all but moved into the women's dorm but there's no way all of these brats are actually mine. I mean, technically, it's possible but I can't be held liable for something I did when I was 18 [[through 56). It's youthful indiscretion and I deserve a mulligan. Tell the kid that I am not THAT Jerry Oz. I'm actually a guy who took that guy's name after we sailed across the ocean to help those hungry kids in China my mom used to tell me to think about when she served her famous chicken heart and sugar beets casserole and we ran out of food on the boat. Sure, we were taking 12 years of chicken heart and sugar beets casseroles to the kiddos but I wasn't going to eat that crap. So barbecued Jerry Oz jumped on the menu. I took his name out of respect for the fact that I got less gas from him than the casserole. None of that is true, but I want the kid to think that I died a hero. I mean, his dad died a hero. And tell him that if he or his mom contacts me, I'm going to sue them into the Stone Age. I mean, even the president doesn't get paid enough to support *counts* 53+ [[at last count) ankle biters. If word gets out that I'm easy, I'll never get Marilyn Monroe to stop by the Whites House after I'm elected and it won't have been worth it.