JUhS Christmas Minutes

Sadly, the Johnny U Founding Dad Dudes were somewhat fragmented for Christmas Eve this year. In place of the Copes' annual Turtleneck extravaganza, a teleconference call was held. This being the first annual JUhS Christmas Eve Teleconference Call, no one was tapped to record the minutes beforehand. As junior Founding Dad Dude and former Eagle Scout, I was determined to have ultimately been responsible for taking down minutes and will thus attempt to do so retroactively in order to fulfil this duty.

The following is a fairly recent account of what transpired. These minutes are incomplete. In fact, this call may very well not have happened.

ROLL CALL:

Andy - Dallas
Michael Thomas - Dallas
PT (note: not a founding dad dude) - Dallas
Derek - Ohio
Andrew - New York
[????? non-understandable muttering, perhaps a Gen] - Dallas
"I don't want to be on this stupid call" - Dallas

TELECONFERENCE MINUTES:

[Dallas signs on]

[Ohio signs on]

[Ohio is booted]

[New York signs on]

Variations of "hello?" and "what's going on?" are uttered. It is determined that a sign in system should take place. Said system determines Ohio is not on the call. Time to flush it out.

[Call is aborted]

[Call is reinstated]

[Dallas signs on]

[Ohio signs on]

[Ohio is booted]

[New York signs on]

Again, after a sign on mishap, Ohio is not on the call. After some Christmas magic from the Dallas teleconference epicenter, all three JUhS outposts are simultaneously on the call.

Andy wishes everyone Merry Christmas and Happy Turtleneck Day.

Derek wishes everyone a Happy Christmas and large erections. This statement is to be taken as a scientific rather than crude one.

Andrew wishes everyone a Happy Jesus Day and very, very, very Happy Turtleneck Christmas.

Michael Thomas has nothing. He then leaves the teleconference room, very likely to inject, snort or otherwise imbibe some sort of banned substance.

Michael Thomas re-enters the room and states he fucked a black woman named Rasheed.

Andy said he woke up this morning with the following written in his mirror:
"I can't go down to the water's edge
I didn't do it, I saw who did it"
It is concluded this was likely written by Santa Claus.

The Founding Dad Dudes state this call may be the stupidest moment of their friendship.

An argument transpires over who will record the minutes for the call.

It is determined Andrew should have taken the minutes and is stripped of his Eagle Scout award.

Confused mumbling ensues.

All parties sign off. The teleconference call is adjourned.

-------

There you have it. I have no idea how to take minutes, but it's about time we had them on this blog. Merry Christmas everyone. Signing off.

The JUhS Takeover Is Now (None days)

And so it begins.

The Takeover.

Let the goodness wash over you for just a few moments. We have a shiny new masthead now. All professional-like. Please continue to bask in it's orangey-red, mildly carcinogenic glow.

And there will be more. Oh balls yes. There will be more to come.

Don't think we've been building this shit up all month just to slap on a new header and call it a Takeover. More is, most assuredly, on its way.

There will be proclamations.

Proclamation One: The Johnny is metamorphosing before your very eyes. JUhS has always been the fucking awesome. You already knew that. But it's about to get the awesome in so many more ways. Which brings us to ...

Proclamation Two: The Johnny is now a multimedia empire. There will be videos. There will be musics. There will be arts. There will be reviews. There will be lore and myths. There will be poorly pieced-together jpegs. The written word is no longer enough to adequately deliver all we seek to convey. But we will not eschew it completely. For it is what brought us to this point, it is goodness, and will therefore continue.

Proclamation Three: We are the symposium. A collection of minds wielding powers previously unknown to the human species, given to us by an anonymous space-faring benefactor in the form of four objects. What began on an undersized basketball court in McKinney, Texas has spread across the globe. But the original binding purpose, the electrons weaving between neurons in our brains, transporting the thoughts which you see here now on this blog - this original electromagnetic spectrum/matrix (spectrix) of awesome - is no longer of merely physical proportions. Those thoughts now reside on the internets, an unfettered microcosm unhindered by time or distance, culminating in a crux that is the Johnny Utah Symposium.

If that didn't blow you the fuck away then just leave immediately.

Proclamation Four: There will be introductions. The Symposium consists of Four. The Founding Dad Dudes. One is for lonelies and crazies. Two is for pussies. Three is the magic number, but lacks philosophical magnitude. Four is for those who enjoy creating gifts of wonder and amazement, then coolin' out really, really hard afterwards. There are four Founding Dad Dudes. There are four Proclamations. Four is the new three. Four is the tits. These are the Four FDDs:

Andrew (JUhS)
Currently resides in London. Banker. Penned some sick pieces on Dannielllyyynnnnnn, among others. Runs the presidential election previews. Would never, ever think of posting on the Johnny from work. Once woke up next to a feather duster. Despises the French.

Andy (JUhS)
Currently resides in Dallas. Actor. Frequently compared to Russell Crowe. Our comparison: Gary Oldman with an axe to grind. Penned a classic on Fidel Castro. Up keeps the JUhS All-Stars. Once teabagged Andrew (JUhS) for falling asleep during Lebowski. FDD most likely to pose nude for cash.

Derek (JUhS)
Currently resides in Dallas. Ad Exec/Rock Drummer. Author of the seminal Derek 360 publication. Specializes in leaping in fronts internationally significant monuments. Dig Day founder. Member of hard rock super group Hardin Sweaty and the Ready To Go. Capable of growing the most balls hard beard you've ever seen.

Michael Thomas (JUhS)
Currently resides in L.A. Post-Prod/Writer/Miscellaneous Badass Hollywood Shit. Once morphed into a slimy three-foot pig. Will literally do anything, including taking a dump on stage in full audience view. After party blow job recipient. Rates movies with his boners. Pipe shimmier.

All of the Dad Dudes have swum in creamed corn. All of them have worn orange jumpsuits. All of them appreciate the musical stylings of Boston. All of them have fled coyotes in certain parts of the McKinney wilderness. All of them are master freestyle walkers. All of them have participated in the distinguished Movies of the Week. All of them post here, on the Johnny.

And please, let us not forget Wilbur Burris, from whence all of this came, and who, in his benevolence, guides us.

You have now been Tookover. Enjoy the ride. Hhhhot yyyyeah.

-The Johnny Utah Symposium