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"i'm not perfect. i make mistakes. i take breaks. i like
cakes."
More about john
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More About john
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Occupation:
EYEBALL CUTTER
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Affiliations:
G's for Jewsus
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Hobbies and Interests:
jumping, skater roller, barrel rolls, reaching for items on the top shelf at grocery stores, ilotal inguantel
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Favorite Books:
books in foreign laguages, choose your own adventure
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Favorite Movies:
gleaming the cube, thrashin'
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Favorite Music:
rick astley, wrecks-n-effect, london beat, quad city dj's, manowar
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Favorite TV Shows:
press your luck, the tomorrow people
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About Me:
i'm not perfect. i make mistakes. i take breaks. i like
cakes.
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Who I Want to Meet:
i want to meat you.
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How you're connected:
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john |
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Testimonials and Comments for john
Damn thing ruined a top-notch narrative.
sundry weather effects results in 3 feet
of snow being deposited in a matter of
hours. The city is effectively shut
down, as the plows can barely keep the
snow off the highway. What fate can
possibly await those on residential
streets? Who will come to their aid;
who will dig out their minivans,
sidewalks, and elderly pets?
Only one man is suited for this task.
Backlight by a streetlamp; scarf
rippling in the wind, his weapon of
choice grasped firmly, the stranger
steps forward. He surveys the scene.
His gaze lingers upon a late-model
Toyota, struggling to get traction. A
look of resolve crosses his face, and
his mouth turns to a grimace -- nay, a
sneer.
"This is my demense, and my will shall
be wrought!"
He then sets to his work, a flurry of
snow launched into the air, shovelfull
after shovelfull. A murmur begins to
grow in the crowd, and soon turns to a
chant --
"SHOVELLER! SHOVELLER! SHOVELLER!"
And John was that
intertwined dance and he jumps on the
pool table groin first, puts his face down,
does a little spin around, throws a knee
or two down on the floor, then he'll start
the little back foot number. rowk n rowl.
dance machine.
trees with, sit in cars during blizzards
listening to tapes with, share a bed with
(nothing sexual now), go to school with,
live with, camp with, and with with. were
it not for him i would not be where i am
today.
there's this great one of him during New Years last
year when he was in the hospital for what seemed
like everything... despite his ongoing near-death
experience he still managed to be a funny little
party guy even though laughing made blood
trickle out of his ear. the first time i met john, he
came over to my house in, like, seventh grade with
a crooked hat, a raider's parka, and a skateboard.
he sucked on my ramp, but i liked his attitude...
this cat had some fuck hotsauce running through
his veins. he eventually went on to make me snarf
my beer because of his extremely offensive and
poorly-exectured humor: 5,678, 912 times... last
time i saw my doctor he was giving me one of
those liver tests and he had a fucked up look on
his face... and i asked him the stizzy and he said
"um... does a lot of beer go up your nose... this shit
is NOT looking good down there..." thanks john...
thanks a lot....
onenothing disgusting: 4 a.m., White
Castle, John Burns, much pain, Bella girl,
Hollandia talls, Al's cookies, Shady Lane.
Amerikaiski Dupek, braca tacca, stofcheck,
Wescott represent, Honda Civic, much
respect.
Groovin' like it's Phil Lesh, boneless, fakie,
jagshemash.
dressed up in a 5th grade lip-synch
contest bustin the ill axel rose dance
moves. he is one sexy bitch
comprehend complex situations and
instantaneously calculate
mathematically the most propitious
reaction to any given stimuli, and
therefore is the person you want to
have around when you are totally
wasted and cannot do so yourself.
also, he's a nice person and a total
hunk of stud muffin. and i'm not even
gay! i swear.