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...that Love was meant for beauty queens
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"How to sum myself up in a few words? I know! I just
won't frickin' bother. That'll show 'em."
More about John
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More About John
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Occupation:
Employee
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Hobbies and Interests:
Reading, Things That Are Far Better Than They Should Be, Learning to Sleep, Barely Concealing My Misanthropy, Violence If It's Tasteful And Advances The Plot, Practicing The Trebuchet, Boiling 40 Pounds of Cabbage In The Apartment Across From Yours
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Favorite Books:
Bear Attacks: Their Causes And Avoidance, The Last Good Kiss, Jack O'Connor On Rifles and Shotguns, Cryptonomicon, Family Dog, Marcus Aurelius, American Gourmet, The Rivet In Grandfather's Neck, The Man Who Was Thursday, Okla Hannali, CATAPULT!
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Favorite Movies:
Hey, as long as it turns a tremendous profit, that's all I care about!
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Favorite Music:
Johnny Cash, which should be enough for anyone.
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Favorite TV Shows:
Football (with the sound off), Hee Haw, Guntruckin' USA!!!, that public access show with the inept and unattractive butt dancers, The Office
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About Me:
How to sum myself up in a few words? I know! I just
won't frickin' bother. That'll show 'em.
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Who I Want to Meet:
Oh, no, thanks. That's okay, really.
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How you're connected:
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John |
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Testimonials and Comments for John
farming community in fifth grade, he did not treat
me as an interloper. He never sneered at me,
pelted me with dung, nor asked me whether I was
Italian or Jewish. I always thought his jokes were
funny, especially the ones I'd muttered under my
breath first. Recently, I walked into a room with
John, and his friends literally cheered his arrival.
He always makes you feel like he's caught you a
delicious bass. John knows where to take a
visitor from podunk for New York City's gooiest,
crustiest mac and cheese, most brain-addling
blended margaritas, and tallest waiters. John is
slowly overtaking the management of all aspects
of my life. Does anyone think this is a good idea?
I will definitely draw the line at wardrobe,
concerning which I would do better to consult
John's wife, who has fabulous carriage, makes
gorgeous purses, and brews an orgasm-inducing
cup of coffee. Let's just all agree here and now
that she is hot.
speak, John smirks. Then we both laugh
about politics and go on with our
business.
ghost-write a Killdozer song and make
you think Mr. Gerald finally achieved
the definitive take on Shelly
Winter's 12-pack in the AM "brunch.
Not to mention, he doles out fab Joan
Jett concert tees once every 10 years.
I'm due for another one in 2 years.
If you took a swing at him, he'd take
your teeth out without even pausing
mid-sentence. Of course he'd probably
be talking about cabinetry or some
shit, which probably instigated the
whole thing. Nice wig.
hetrosexual men that don't feel weird
coming to work wearing makeup. He
also is one of those married men
that search friendster for women in
"open marriages". He also loves
Jesus, very, very much.
looking at shotguns. John Purchased a
Remington 332 Over/Under and I got a
Mossberg 500 pump action. After making
his selection, John asked the salesman if he
had any birdshot. After making my selection,
I asked the salesman if he had any ski-masks.
had the Michigan 67th battalion
pinned just outside of Sault Ste.
Marie. If our supply line held up, the
U.P. would soon be liberated by
Wisconsin forces, maybe by spring,
even. It was fierce cabin to cabin
fighting. Sometimes those fucking
Michiganese would hole up in some
tavern or supper club, forcing a
prolonged siege that would inevitably
end with the slow death of the
Michiganese troops, as well as the
destruction of needless beer,
pretzels and other valuable war
booty. During one such attack, a
crazed Michiganese soldier tried a
solo breakout, and ran onto our
position. Cool as always, John
merely picked up an empty Huber
bottle, smashed it over the head of
the offending attacker, and used the
remaining shards to eviscerate the
poor fellow. You know, to put him out
of his misery. As John stood over
the quickly fading Michiganese
soldier, he resumed eating his
pickled egg, which he had not even
bothered to put down during the
attack. "Good egg", he said. "damn
good egg. Wish I had a brewski to
go with it, instead of this fucking
bottle with yooper blood on it."
crewcut: funny uncle, sensitive geek,
reluctant coolio, brilliant wordmaster,
salvage expert. I luvs John so much
that I birthed my baby girl on June 25
so's she could have the same birthday
as his. It hurt but it was worth it.
John spat up.
I don't know if this says more about
John or more about me.
John reminds me of an old cartoon. I
can't help but feel like the little
yipping dog to John's bull mastiff,
and for some reason John wears a
derby hat and speaks in a tough
Brooklyn brogue, and he slaps me
away with his big paw when I get too
eager to be his friend. Thankfully for
John, I don't remember how the
cartoon ends.