Wasted

His head wouldn’t stop throbbing.

Trying to remember the night before, he wasn’t sure if he had cross words with another bloke or had a love affair with a bottle. Thoughts could barely be pieced together, let alone a string of words to form a sentence. He let out a low gargle to prove to himself that he was still alive.

“#########”

Still there, but he wasn’t quite sure where “there” exactly was.

That was the next question.

Was he at an amusement park or in his bedroom, maybe a spaceship? Because when he closed his eyes the room would spin. If he looked around the room while they were open it would have the same effect.

He could stare though.

He imagined two eyes staring back at him so he could make it into a contest. That might hold his attention for a few seconds longer to keep him from implementing a personal fluid exit strategy. The plan was working quite well until the eyes grew a nose and a mouth and introduced himself as “Sam the Staring Contest Champion of Inanimate Objects”. That basically meant that he was undefeated because who could stare longer than an inanimate object?

Sam startled him and though he was intimidated, he acted like he didn’t want to participate because he was bored. Terrified was a better word for it. So he tried to stop staring, but when he stopped he got dizzy again. He tried focusing on the ceilings and hoped that they would not grow faces or personalities for that matter.

As he stared he realized the ceilings looked different though. They seemed vaulted, yet he didn’t remember them being so high in the past. Maybe it was the same and he had never stared at them this long before and it became something completely unique in itself. Maybe he was just drunk… and high, but this wasn’t weed.

Weed doesn’t bring inanimate objects to life to compete with you in a staring contest. He was only questioning this idea because he lost the stare-down. Good sportsmanship didn’t run in his family.

He didn't remember narcotics.

He kept staring.

The longer he stared the more it felt like he was falling. Until his concentration was finally broken by a jolt of inner electricity that snapped him back to reality.

Disgorgement commenced.

Sex Ed.

When we first got there my parents insisted that I tell them like it was a punch line to some joke. At age 8 I didn’t understand what was so funny about my teacher’s name and why I had tell my new found, long lost relatives. This was the first time I recall actually remembering who these people were, but there seems to be proof through family vacation pictures that we had not only previously met, but we had a lot of fun together. Shit. I don’t really recall much before age 5.

I had probably blocked them out along with all of the other dysfunctional family memories. Sitting on their couch staring at all of the unfamiliar faces that seemed to know who the hell I was, wasn’t as uncomfortable as you would think. They seemed just as fucked up as my family, but enjoyed the process.

It seemed like my parents ran away from their families right about the time I was born. It made my adolescent mind question some things. Was I such a sight for sore eyes that they had to hide me? Were they running from the law? Were these even my real parents? Maybe they kidnapped me. Other than getting spanked when I was bad, I had it pretty good so those thoughts exited about as quick as they came.

My aunt seemed to have a cigarette surgically implanted in her mouth. I had never seen someone smoke that much before. I wondered if she could eat dinner and smoke at the same time?

We had a Nintendo, but they had the power glove, the power mat that you could play the track and field game on and about 300 different games I had never heard of before. The strangest part about it was I think my aunt and uncle played more video games than their kids. These were my kinda people. Maybe they were my real parents?

My so-called parents seemed uncomfortable the majority of the time we were there which made me believe that they might be returning me to my rightful owners, but they laughed at all their jokes and never gave me up. The real reason they felt uncomfortable was probably because they thought my brother and I were being corrupted more and more the longer we hung around. They were probably right. That might explain why we only saw my aunt and uncle once a year even though we only lived 15 minutes away.

“Mrs. Gerth.”

“What’s that Johnny?”

“Mrs. Gerth. My new teacher’s name is Mrs. Gerth.”

“Girth?!?"

“Yeah, Gerth.”

The room exploded with laughter. It looked like my mom couldn’t breathe after she let out a cackle similar to the one I heard when I told her my teacher’s name when I got home from my first day of school.

I'm sure they all had images of my third grade teacher giving lessons to all the girls on how to give quality hand jobs without getting any of it on you.

“I don’t get it. What’s so funny?”

“We’ll tell you when your older.”

Shit, That’s the worst thing you can ever say to a kid.

“I’ll tell you when your older.”

“Because I said so!”

“This is a grown up movie.”

Little did they know that the next door neighbor’s kid and I use to sneak peaks at his Dad’s “secret stash” all the time. I’m surprised it took me so long to understand what was so funny about Mrs. “Girth”.

Clarity

You threw the first punch and it was a direct hit
But the only memory I recall was our first kiss.

Told me once and I tried it twice, but I’m not one to really take advice
So you know I had to keep on pursuing

Red lipstick and cigarettes we all know there’s a little truth in jest
But guess I proved that when I took off your dress

We talked for hours and you told lies but it all came full circle when I realized
You’re full of shit and there was really nothing to you

You proved me right when I wished to be wrong
And you threw the fight when you said “So long”

So here’s the family toast that I say to you:

“Lord, confound this surly sister, Blight her brow with blotch and blister, Cramp her larynx, lung, and liver, In her guts a galling give her.
Let her live to earn her dinners Imprisoned with seedy sinners: Lord, this judgment quickly bring, And I'm your servant, JLC.”

Theology on Tap

"If you ever reach total enlightenment while drinking beer, I bet it makes beer shoot out your nose."

-Deep Thought, Jack Handy

I’m not sure if we’re going to reach total enlightenment, but tomorrow night we’re sure as hell going to try!

This will be the second Theology on Tap that Jake and I will be leading. Our discussion focus tomorrow night is going to be on Theodicy.

Click here for more details!

When: Thursday, February 22^nd at 8:00pm

Where: Little 5 Points Vortex – on the porch

Shoot me an e-mail if you’d like to come, so we now how many tables to reserve.

Again, this is not a religious debate. This is an open conversation so we can learn from one another, so leave your Bibles and copies of The Origin of Species at home.

Please tell me I'm dreaming.

The next day, actually the next morning would be the hardest part for me if it was my spouse. That state you’re in right before you wake up - mid reality, was probably a scary place for her. She knew what was going to be there, what she was going to have to deal with when she woke up, but you always wish that you’re just waking up from a bad dream and most the time you are. Then there are those few and far between times that you wish you could stay in the nightmare because it’s not as bad what you’re going to have to deal with when the alarm goes off.


Large gusts of wind blowing me off buildings

Tornados chasing me an in open field

Gun shot wounds to the chest

Tsunami waves crushing my car

Mid-air collisions while traveling on family vacation


I’ve gotten to a point where I can wake myself up from bad dreams. Everything in me wishes that I could’ve offered her my talent the next morning.

It also hit me the day after. This wasn’t the first time for me though, the sting was familiar. It was one of those afflictions that seemed to follow me around for a couple of years. From then on I almost started wondering who was going to be next. Picking was hard because it was never usually the closest person to me, but it was the closest person to everyone. Even though I started to fear for my own life I realized that being an asshole might actually work in my favor for once.

You really can’t go through life wondering though. It not only makes the moment even harder when it actually happens, but also every single day along with it because you’re waiting for it.

It’s like what you learn when you’re a kid, you can’t watch water boil and the mail man never comes when you’re expecting an important package.

Gabba Gabba Hey!

His life had become as redundant as a three-chord Ramones Punk Rock Song:

Monotonous and Predictable

C D G
Eat Sleep Work

C D G
Eat Sleep Work

A D E
Drink Flirt Fuck

A D E
Drink Flirt Fuck

D G A
Pull The Trigger

D G A
Pull The Trigger

(I wanna be sedated)

Candy Hearts

To: Ashley

From: Johnny

It’s all been said, it’s all been heard

Sugar hearts with silly words

There’s nothing new that I can say

All talk of beauty that you display

But I have something they do not

It cannot be attained - It cannot be bought

Chemistry is one of a kind

So not just for today, Know that I am yours

And will you “be mine”?

It's not unusual.

Typically, I’m not a “meme” kinda guy. Kevin tagged me though, so I’ll join in on the fun. So without further ado, here are 6 unusual facts about Johnny C.

1. Two Words: TOP GUN. The only sunglasses that I will wear are Aviator’s.

2. All-in! My favorite poker hand is actually the worst poker hand ever: 7-2 off (suit). The sick part about it is that I actually win the majority of the time when I play these cards. I also love 2 – Jack off.

3. Sugar Rush! I have extreme blood sugar issues. I’m not quite a diabetic and hopefully never will be. I am hypoglycemic though. So what does that mean? It means I can’t eat processed sugar, white flour or starch without having a sugar spike that could possibly lead to me passing out. Try that diet for a couple days and you’ll know my pain.

4. Yankee Gaming! Euchre is my second favorite card game. I once taught it to twelve foreigners that I was living with while abroad in Eastern Europe. Unfortunately, I also cheated in a Euchre tournament that was held in a church when I was 14. Yeah, hopefully I won’t go to hell for that one.

5. He’s a Heretic! As much as I ramble about church and God. I haven’t stepped foot in a church in over a year and I haven’t gone to church regularly for about 8 years now. I have spoken in numerous churches during those 8 years though.

6. Let’s get motivated! All of my business experience since I’ve been an adult has come from working for two motivational speakers. Between the two of them they have written a combined total of over 60 books. I’ve never finished one of these books and I have access to all of them.

I'm not going to tag anyone for this, but feel free to join if you'd like. I've always enjoyed reading these because they go below the surface of what most people write day to day.

Amateur Night

They’re driving me fucking crazy. Know what you want before you walk up to the bar or he’s going to walk off. I know what I want, but you and your fucking siliconed-out, leathery piece of luggage that you call your girlfriend keep everyone else from getting a drink.

It’s understandable that Budweiser is the only beer you’ve ever drank before so just pick something dark. Don’t worry, it’s good, but you might not like it because it has a little flavor. You can always take a leak in it to make it taste like home.

Fucking amateur night!

I’m not sure why I even go out on New Years or St. Patty’s anymore.

My boss always tells me that when he was my age that he partied his brains out. Stories about snorting coke off of crusty urinals in L.A. bars that you can only get into with secret knocks and hand shakes and smoking reefer on Manhattan Beach are in weekly conversational rotation.

Little does he know that I’m a “borderline” alcoholic. I prefer “functioning”, but whatever fills your pint glass. The only difference between me and the 25 year old version of “Lumburgh” is that I’m a pro. Allowing substance abuse to control your life is for the amateurs.

I’m too busy to ruin my life.

It's a corporate affair.

God! Look at all of em’! They’re fucking gorgeous. I feel like I’m in 4^th grade again and I want to say “hi” to all of the popular 5^th grade girls sitting at that same back table that they always occupy during 4^th period lunch. Joey Harris made a pretty gutsy move a few months earlier by trying to sit at their table before they got there. I guess he was hoping that they might actually sit down with him and laugh at some of his jokes. Then he could be king of the 4^th grade because he hit it off with the cunt brigade. What a dip shit.

I can’t blame a guy for trying though. None of us would’ve minded just being a crumb on the edge of their plate or a piece of gum on the bottom of their shoes just so we could be in their presence. They were just so hot and so…hmm?…hot! We had no gauge of true beauty at age 9, but we were pretty sure that these girls we wearing training bras and we liked it.

Joey didn’t stand a fucking chance because as soon as they saw him waiting for them, like clock-work they sat two tables over as though they had been doing it all year. I felt bad for Joey because he sat there all lunch period by himself. No one was brave enough to join him. Maybe we should’ve though, we could’ve reclaimed our territory! Those broads were like fucking gypsies. If anyone ever invaded their “lunch space” they would just move on to another part of the lunch room. Where was their dignity? Where was their sense of ownership?!

Nervously I approach, but I’m comforted because I think they’ve been waiting for me. Maybe they’re longing for me. Ready for me to run my fingers along their smooth and curvy exterior. My hands are starting to tremble. I’m fucking sweating.

What first though, what is my pleasure?

What is my object of lust?

I choose the Pilot Precise V5 Liquid Ink Rollerball Pens. They come with a 0.5 mm, Extra-Fine Point with black ink and come in a 12 pack. As I unwrap the package and caress one of the instruments the cold plastic feels like an extension of my hand. Maybe we were separated at birth or maybe I’ve found my soul mate. I feel complete.

As I put pen to paper the ink gushes on to the note pad for the ultimate clerical climax. This experience could only be described by a man who has just lost his virginity to the girl of his dreams after he has killed his arch nemesis by beating him to death with a blunt object. It’s an unexplainable pleasure.

Calling them office supplies never felt comfortable to me. It’s agreed that they do supply great joy and comfort to many, but I’ve always held them in a higher regard.

National Quadrille7 1/4" x 9 1/4", Black Composition notebook with 192 pages

HP 12C Platinum Edition Financial Calculator

Sanford Liquid Accent Pen Style Highlighters, Fluorescent Colors – Ten Pack

Panasonic KP-380 Black Electric Pencil Sharpener

3M 1 1/2" x 2", Post-it Notes In Canary Yellow, Pad of 100 Sheets, Pack Of 12 Pads

Falcon Stainless Steel 5" Blunt Scissors

Scotch Wave Desktop Two-Tone Black Tape Dispenser

I’ve heard people’s personalities described in less words.

These are not just descriptive names for office supplies. This is fucking corporate pornography and I’m addicted.

True Love

Who’s to say who and what you should love

It might be unconventional but we fit like a glove

We’re so much a like, you might think it scary

Everything is in common, we are always merry

My love has a heart of gold, always cooking and cleaning

Lighting my cigarettes and even helps when I’m eating

If there is an itch to scratch, my love is always there

When making love, no one compares

My love is quiet, but we always get along

You might think we’re fighting, but nothing is wrong

My love never nags or kicks me out

Never do we argue, nor do we pout

But if we were to fight, my love would win

When packing a punch my love is a shoo-in

Everyone I tell thinks we’re the perfect match

I always boast of my love, truly the perfect catch

But we probably seem odd since you only see me

Nevertheless, my hand will never leave - nor ever forsake thee

I Am not

I Am I am not.

Am I not I Am.

I am called to be the hands and feet of I Am.

But am I really his hands?

Do the hands of I Am do what I am doing?

The feet of I Am definitely do not go where I am going.

I Am I am not.

Popeye said “I am what I am“.

If I am what I am I am not I Am.

The Best of the Best!

This is it!

The best of the best!

Well, it’s the best of what I have at least. You may or may not agree, but these are some of my favorite posts over the last couple of years. It’s interesting to go back over 262 posts and decide what you like the most out of everything you’ve written.

I laughed. I cried. I got sick to my stomach (I wrote some pretty awful shit.). That’s OK though. That was the point. I started this blog to write my thoughts on life, mainly my own and I’d like to think I’ve come a long way. I hope you enjoy reading some of these as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them! Thanks to everyone who has already read them. K Farmer I think you're the only one...haha.

“Be Cool”

The Philosophy of Cool....according to me.

“Smoking is never a bad decision.”

Middle aged women, Mick Jagger and John Cusack. Yeah, I don't know either.

“Could you repeat your order please?”

A battle of legendary pro(portions) with fast food.

“The Christian Right, Conspiracy Theories and Ninjas”’

This one speaks for itself.

“How Long…How Long…”

A U2 Obsessed co-worker meets the wrath of Johnny C.!

“101 things you could careless about excluding dalmations."

Everything you never wanted to know about me.

“In Which I am posting like Magazine Man…”

An ode to the "Mag Man" himself!

“This post will probably not get me any dates.”

Me at my worst. We all get dark and brooding sometimes.

"The Majority Rules"

It's not that I don't like God. I just can't stand most of his followers.

“Turtle Power!”

This entry gets me the second most hits from Google. Lots of people looking up "Turtle Power" apparently. Oh and beware, there's a little Johnny C. nudity involved on this one.

“There is always an alternative.”

American Gladiators meets politics!

“There is no return to innocence.”

Something nostalgic that I wrote years ago.

“Signs of life”

Blogging about blogging and people not using their talents!

“Good Vibrations”

This post is fitting considering Harry's about to get nude on stage.

“That girl and I blogged all night.”

If someone read this gmail conversation between Kevin and I, we both might've gotten fired.

“Backwards Thinking”

I had a little "spiritual" run in with a buddy of mine over e-mail. It was sad, but just part of growing up.

“Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman always leads to anal sex.”

I think the title of this post is the best thing about it.

"Basket Case"

"You won't like me when i'm angry!"

“Punch Line”

I live in the city. I'm better than you.

“Duderonomy”

My attempt to change my generation forever!

“Destruction”

Yeah, you might not like this one if you go to church every Sunday.

"Imperfections Part 1" "Imperfections Part 2"

this was the first thing that I ever got published. This is the original work. The editor later changed the title to "Be Like Mike". I thought that was lame, but whatever. Click the link if you want to see the published version.

“The Boston Red Sox and The Lord of Death”

Do you know what conventional wisdom is?

Thanks again to everyone who's been a loyal reader over the last few years. I appreciate all of your comments and feedback! I don't think I would still be doing this if it wasn't for you guys, all 5 of you.