First things first, as always. Fatness. Let’s not discuss it. Jackie Kashian has better things to do with her time. Like, for instance, go to war zones, even though she’s a pacifist who comes from a long line of freestyle fleeing champions. If you’re against hitting, she figures, everything above that’s off the table. But still, she loves video games, so possible rides in Blackhawks? Irresistible! A retinue of 19-year-old soldiers in the “Kinko’s of the East� Eh, not so much. They may be cute, but they’re also exhausting, like a pile of puppies. If faced with a military situation, Kashian goes for the basics: butch it up and try not to be the guy that has to clean up bathroom puke or provide an on-foot escort in a war zone. That, really, sums up so much about Kashian, a native Midwesterner who once accidentally broke up a gang fight with conspicuous reading.
This is to say: Kashian is both straightforward and a constant, amazing surprise. Yes, she occasionally makes a mistake: who hasn’t stumbled into harrowing Swedish psycho-sexual torture books when SparkleVamps were available? But she has learned to LARP-it-out when it comes to trauma, how to handle her father on the prowl in Daisy Dukes and a sleeveless denim shirt, she’s even figured out why young men are suddenly growing beards. By both knowing reality (take the bus, take a chance) and trusting 98% of the world, Kashian figures she might just get to die with a look of surprise on her face–hopefully after many happy and lucrative years running a sleep apnea clinic for dogs.
