KEEP ON DIGGING!

Hey there,

I hope all of you novice archaeologists out there had a prolific day of digging up awesome stuff yesterday. I know I did! I found this:


I know! Holy shit!

I've been running some sweet tests on these bones in the Johnny Lab and all signs point to these bones being the bones of Rasputin and some other dude. This is a big find. Rasputin's bones are supposed to have a crazy hex on them (according to a periodical of note) so I currently have them locked up in my downstairs bathroom. Oh, and don't worry, I totally washed my hands after handling the bones.

All of this excitement has inspired me to turn National Dig in the Dirt Day into National Dig in the Dirt WEEK! So just keep on digging and trust me, you will find something awesome. If you dig deep enough you may just find lava.

OH YEAH!
-Derek

NATIONAL DIG IN THE DIRT DAY '06

Hello everyone!

This Tuesday, August 1, is the first annual "National Dig in the Dirt Day". This event is being sponsored by the Johnny Utah Symposium and it is going to be a prolific day of glorious archaeological discovery. I know this seems totally random (and a little weird) but the events of this previous week have paved the path towards this new holiday. Let me explain:

On July 25th, some dudes in Dublin were digging in a bog (hell yes a bog) when they saw something in the bog muck. They turned off their backhoes and went in closer to examine the object. It was an ancient book of psalms dating back to the year 800. It was open to Psalm 83, in which God hears complaints of other nations' attempts to wipe out the name of Israel. Uhhhhhh. Dublin? What? Read the full story here and view some really awful pictures of the document covered in bog muck.

On July 26th, some other dudes in Virginia were checking out an old well (and I know that's not really digging in the dirt, but it's close) when they found some sweet relics from early America. They found an old pistol, a leather shoe and a sweet plaque that simply reads "James Towne". The relics are estimated to be roughly 400 years old. You can read this full story here and see a sweet pic of some bearded dude holding the muddy found gun.

These two incidents have made it perfectly clear to me that we, as human beings, don't spend enough time digging in the dirt for awesome stuff. Dinosaur bones, human skeletons, alien technology, different larvae, toxic waste, amulets, stuff from the titanic, relics from past times, Atlantis. These are just examples of some of the sweet stuff you could find if you simply walk into your backyard, harness the raw power of a shovel, and dig. I'd say a minimum of four feet down would be a good start but the deeper the better.

I want our millions (cough) of readers out there to join in on the fun and take part in this brand new holiday. Tell your friends and polish your shovels. DIG DIG DIG!

Full update on Wednesday where we catalog all the awesome stuff we find. Below is a sweet poster. Feel free to print some off and post them at your local mercantile.


I'm totally serious...about all of this.
-Derek

Bad Poetry Guy Presents: "Working the Night Shit"

Hello globe!
Am I asleep?
Is this dream?
Is this real?

Hello globe!
This is shit!
What is this?
Is this shit?

I hath shat my pant.

-Bad Poetry Guy

DEREK 360: Stupid Person Time

Hello Readers,

It is time once again for the occasional Johnny Utah feature, "Stupid Person Time".

Today we are going down to the Bermuda area for the tale of a fisherman who got his damn self stabbed while fishing for marlin. Marlin, more specifically blue marlin, can grow to be really huge (like 800lb.) and they have a natural sword shaped protuberance coming out of their foreheads. They are the narwhal of the fish world.

Ian Card, a 32 year old fisherman, was fishing with his father when all of a sudden the fish he had on his hook did its natural fishy thing and jumped out of the water (huh?). It jumped face first right into Ian's chest and stabbed the shit out of him. The force knocked him right out of the boat and into the water.

From here Mr. Card managed to "free himself" from the marlin's tusk/horn/sword/thing and...wait a second here. How do you free yourself? This dude got presumably run through by this fish's nose sword and then he somehow managed to pull the thing out? Did he leverage himself against the side of the boat and push as he watched gallons of his blood paint the water around him. I know this is supposed to be "Stupid Person Time" but this Ian Card dude is kind of a bad ass. If I got run through by a marlin tusk I'd flip out and probably just die. The marlin would carry me under the water and introduce me to the mayor of marlin town. They would show me all the coral-crafted landmarks of their marlin made metropolis. It would be magnificent...wait, what was I talking about?

Ok, back on track here. Ian Card managed to get loose and was treated at a local hospital after a 40 minute boat ride back to shore. He is alive but "very lucky" according to a doctor who treated him.

Ian, you are the subject of "Stupid Person Time" because:
1. You got stabbed by a fish...and that's awesome. Wait, no, that's stupid.
2. You got away from your marlin assailant and in doing so flushed your ticket to marlin town down the toilet.

In honor of you, Ian, I created a cautionary poster for future fisherdudes to learn from. I used fellow Johnny founding dad dude, Andrew, as the subject of this poster because if there is one guy I know who could get stabbed by a fish it's him.


I think this post might suck.
-Derek

Oh yes.

This is the most important and awesome video of all timez! AHHH! YEAH!



Uhhhhhhhh.
-Derek

DEREK 360: Ernie Reyes Jr.

Everything in this article is true.

Ernie Reyes Jr. is an actor. You may remember him as Keno in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II or as Johnny in Surf Ninjas. He is one of these karate dudes who burst onto the scene in the early 1990's, a time when awesomely awful karate based movies (like TMNT2 and Surf Ninjas) were sort of popular. Unfortunately for Mr. Reyes Jr. the age of the shitty karate based movie did not last. Mr. Reyes Jr. suffered from a serious lack of work for many years and it is in the midst of this career "dryspell" that our story takes off.


Fellow Johnny Founding Dad Dude Mike and myself were in our first year at University and we were bored. Mike stumbled upon this, which looked way worse five years ago. He instantly remembered (fondly) that reign of Reyes and the many parts that had made him into a legend in like half of 1991. We sat there for several hours just "shooting the shit" about how awesome Ernie was and how that dude "needs to get back into more movies". We were being sarcastic but sometimes sarcastic gets things done.

At the bottom of the website (at the time) there was a crude email link inviting us to "get in touch with Ernie". We contemplated what to say in our first correspondence with the man who was Luke Chen in a 1988 episode of MacGyver entitled Murderers' Sky (that's not a typo on the apostrophe...don't ask me). Mike and I decided that the best way to get Ern's attention would be to pitch him a sweet (and entirely fake) movie project.

From here on out large chunks of this epic story will be told through the actual emails that were exchanged between us and Ernie Reyes Jr.'s business manager. Our first email said the following:

Dear Mr. Reyes,

I am a film maker who has been a fan of yours since March 20, 1991 when I saw your work in the blockbuster Ninja Turtles II: Secret of the Ooze. Since then I have followed your career closely and you have not dissapointed. I especially enjoyed your role in Surf Ninjas in 1993 alongside your father. I anticipated a sequel but, unfortunately, was left with nothing. Since then I have continued to follow your work closely both on and off the screen. Your extensive martial arts skills still impress my associates and I. I was pleased to see your face once again on the big screen this summer as Zing in Rush Hour 2.

Well, I guess I should cut to the chase. I am developing a film entitled the Six Shooter for the screen. It is a kung fu western filmed with a tarantino-esque Sergio Leone hybrid style. The true feel of it is hard to explain right here but a good example is the film A Knights Tale. It's a raw western filled with anachronism, pathos, and enough martial arts to appease any enthusiast. I believe that you would be truly perfect for one of the roles in my new film. I hope that you can respond to me or at least tell me a better way to reach you. I thank you for your time and best of luck in the future.

Sincerely,
Derek


From here Mike and I sat back and waited. We really didn't expect to hear anything back, but, only a few hours later we did. His business manager, Sue, (who I still think was just Ernie using a different name...I mean come on. Ernie Reyes Jr. has a fucking business manager? Yeah, sure) responded with this:

Dear Derek,

Thank you for your nice note to Ernie. I am his business manager, and if you would like Ernie to read your script, please send to:

Ernie Reyes Jr.
CALIFORNIA ADDRESS

How far along are you on your project, or have you just started? If Ernie is interested in the project, we would help you get it produced.

Thanks for writing. I look forward to reading your script.

Best regards,
Sue

Help us "get it produced"? WHAT? They wanted the script to our totally fake anachronistic kung fu western called The Six Shooter but we didn't have a script to give them. At this junction we did what any pair of dudes in our situation would do. We bullshitted them into believing that we had the script done but not polished enough to where we were comfortable sending it. We said things like:

"We have always seen Mr. Reyes as the title character and we want his opinions on how to make that title character more suitable for him."

And,

"It starts in a hyper western atmosphere but as the film progresses elements of future and past cultures will blend together into what we think is one hell of an electrifying film. It's shaping up to be kind of a Matrix meets The Wild Bunch kind of feature."


We also included, with this email, the first couple scenes for Ernie to review and give us his thoughts. It was in these scenes that Mike and I's bullshitting went over the edge of reason. The four pages of non-formatted cinema magic were too much awesome for Ernie, or anyone, to handle. In the pages Ernie kicked a bullet back at a dude after said dude (who had a glass eye) tried to shoot him. It was some seriously intense shit. If you're totally insane and would like a copy of those first scenes from The Six Shooter just leave an email address in the comments section and it will arrive in your inbox at some point. After you have it feel free to read it and just cry. Cry because you know that you just read the first few scenes from what would have probably been the best movie ever made but unfortunately some actors just couldn't help us realize the dream. I'm getting a little ahead of myself...

After we sent the scenes, Ernie and Sue dodged us for quite some time. We had obviously blown their fucking minds and words just did not exist that could fully articulate just how rocked they had been by the excerpt they had read. Eventually we had to send a follow up email asking "whats up Ernie?". We threw out this threat in the follow up email which may have rubbed Big Ern the wrong way:

"We can easily line up another martial arts enthusiast to look over the role, it's just that we truly wrote it for Mr. Reyes."

At this, Ernie's camp finally responded with a firm "no". They told us some lie about how Ernie was busy with another project.

Why did I just recount all of this into a massive blog entry here on The Johnny Utah Symposium? We didn't make the movie. We didn't even meet Mr. Reyes Jr. This is fundamentally a bad story. It has a promising beginning, a decent yet slowly decaying middle and a complete let down of an ending where the two protagonists (Mike and I) just fail. Why am I putting this on the Johnny? WHY?

Because it is awesome.

Sorry about the length though. Do better next time.
-Derek

P.S. As for Ernie now, he is hosting a show on MTV called Final Fu. It's like a Kung Fu based gameshow...I think. I only managed to sit through about a half minute of it. It was bad.

Idle

This dude is awesome. Obviously. The millions of people who voted for him can't be wrong.

"I do it my way, cause that's what I say"

Huh? Ford Trux? What?

-Derek

DEREK 360: Current Events and the Recipe for Peace.

The Johnny Utah Symposium loves current events. We thrive on them. Sometimes though, the powerful negativity of a week's events can make the men of the Johnny sad. This past week was one of these weeks. Here's the rundown on a shitty week:

1. Red Buttons died.
2. There was a major terrorist attack in India.
3. A building exploded and collapsed in New York City.
4. Syd Barrett died.
5. Oil prices soared.
6. The ozone layer continued to melt.
7. Mr. T gave up his gold chains.
8. The stock market had a really hard week.
9. A man in his 80's was arrested for selling crack to a woman in exchange for prostititution (no joke).

Oh, and

10. Israel and the Lebanese group known as Hezbollah went to war with each other.

I put that last one last because it is, in my opinion, the gravest current event in a week of grave current events (though that India thing was seriously hardcore). The past two days have been punctuated hourly by new proclamations of war between the two sides. Buildings being destroyed and people being slaughtered.

I also put that one last on my list of doom because it is the easiest to fix of the ten. For reals.

All we have to do is use the power of American cinema. Little Man came out today and I can tell you, even without seeing it, that it's gonna be one of the seven most awesomely hilarious movies of all time. So funny, in fact, that all we need to do to cease this new conflict in the middle east is load up some planes (and this is all demonstrated in the crude representation below) with televisions or monitors showing Little Man, fly these planes over the areas in turmoil and drop the monitors down into the heart of the conflict. The people fighting will take a second to look over at one of the televisions and break out laughing at the sight of a baby with Marlon Wayans' face (I'm laughing right now just thinking about it). This laughter will encourage others from both sides to look at the televisions until finally all the dudes who were once fighting are now watching a movie, high fiving a lot, and making sweet treaties.


Hezbollah loves Marlon Wayans.
-Derek

DEREK 360: "Send me some of that stink"

Ladies and Gentlemen,

It has been done. It has FINALLY been done.


The Japanese have applied their brilliant scientific minds to the creation of a machine that actually "records" smells and then reproduces them. The machine records the odors and turns them into digital models. These models are then read by a seperate machine that uses combinations of 96 chemicals to reproduce the smells in a vapor form.

The scientist in charge, Takamichi Nakamoto, says that the machine is limited right now by it's large size but in the future the technology could be applied to such practical applications as sending a smell from one cell phone to another.

Holy Crap. Send some flower smells to your special lady. Send the rich stink of a nursing home on fire to your biggest enemy. Send the smell of blood to all the vampires hunting you. Send the smell of cut grass to your landscaper friends. Send the rank, disgusting odor of sewage to everybody. Send stinks from coast to coast at the push of a button.

This is exciting.

Here's the story.
-Derek

!QUIK HITZ!

Let's learn stuff!

Let's do it QUIK!

1. ONE. UNO.

Jackie Chan's reign as the most lovable, Asian, "I do all my own stunts", action star is over. The dude supposedly climbed on stage during a concert by Taiwanese singer-songwriter Jonathan Lee, claimed he was drunk, demanded a duet with Lee and tried to conduct the band. He then grabbed the microphone from Lee and lectured the already horrified audience on the many differences between his films, The Tuxedo and The Medallion. After that he held an impromptu contest to determine who his biggest fan was. The winner was brought on stage where they were guilted into stripping off all of their clothes and peeing on Jackie (at his request). Then Jackie, covered in the urine of his #1 fan, danced what he called "A Jig for Mystery" until he purposefully fell down. While on the ground he broke his own thumb on his left hand and vomited three times. The third time he beckoned for the now utterly disgusted Jonathan Lee to come on over and "mop up my droppings".

It was a rough scene.

For the real (and slightly more accurate story) you can go here.

2. TWO. DOS.

A loyal Johnny reader brought this to my attention. Mr. Bateman's sweater is amazing.

3. THREE. TRES.

Cici's Pizza Buffet may very well be "the best pizza value anywere" but it is also a true melting pot of personalities, nationalities and species.

The other day the members of the band I play music with (hsatrtg) and myself decided to conclude a hard day of practice by hitting up our local Cici's. We went in and sat down in the rear of the restaurant. We were immediately targeted by the hillbilly circus act sitting a table away from us. The pathetic monosyllabic utterances began to fly. The five people sitting diagonally from me were a realization of a white trash vision you can only imagine in the darkest and most fucking pathetic recesses of your mind. There was the the one dude who was massive. His face looking very much like what the face of an ogre or troll would look like if such things were real. If he would have been holding a massive stone club the image would have been complete. When he spoke it was an indecipherable grunt. He was flanked by three smaller dudes who did most of the talking. All of them had the look of the perfect white trash American down to a science. One was wearing a size-too-small wife beater. His "awesome" tattoos visible on his arms. The other two in oversized white T-shirts that were yellowed from the wear and tear of the daily life of a rodeo bad ass (or whatever these sad souls were). They had the token disgusting chick with them. I think she was the wife of the wife beater guy (who positioned himself to be the leader). She also had a wife beater on (they come in two packs so what the hell) and her striped bra or bathing suit top was clearly visible underneath in all of its completely unsexy glory. There was also a little girl running around, presumably the spawn of La Famile de Wife Beater.

I sat down first and began to enjoy my average-yet-cheap pizza feast when I heard them throwing words at me. I was wearing a shirt from the D.A.R.E. anti-drug program for children. They were able to read the big red word on my chest and went with their first instinct which was to just yell it out. Perhaps there first grade educations or collective double digit IQ was telling them to sound out their words and this was the reasoning behind yelling out "DARE" over and over in my direction. Another theory that just occurred to me is that maybe they knew my name somehow and were just trying to get my attention. The length of a word like "Derek" may have seemed daunting to them so early in a conversation with someone who wasn't quite on their level of grunts and hand gestures.

Whatever it was they called it out several times before I finally raised my eyes to meet them. I agreed with their exclamations with a simple, "Yes. Dare." From here my bandmate and friend Justin sat down. Justin has curly hair and it resembles an afro...I guess. I think this is what our new friends were thinking because they began to yell out "Afro" and "Hey" at Justin. He turned around quickly to greet them. It was then that they got ambitious and told Justin how funny it was that I was wearing a shirt advertising an anti-drug program while he had an afro (which is, of course, "druggie" hair). They said something about how "e'ery buddy 'n da 50's had one of dem hercuts". This statement caught me off guard simply due to the fact that these things sitting before me knew that we existed in spans of time and these spans, these decades, had names like the 50's and the 60's. Justin wasn't as impressed by the little things. He corrected wife beater man and told him that the "1960's was the decade that brought about the true rise of the afro". Wife beater man responded to this with something that I could only describe as a howl/snort/laugh/hiccup.

From here the other two members of the band arrived at our quaint little table and got the same treatment. We sat there exchanging smiles with our new friends for a while before my friend Joe got up to get more pizza (it is, after all, a buffet). On his way to the pizza line he proclaimed to the rest of us that "there are a lot of people here". There were. It was a completely accurate statement. Ogre dude, for some reason, thought that Joe's statement had in some way been a form of "shit-talking" and became slightly agitated. He addressed the remaining three at our table with a relentless series of the same query.

"Wad he talkin' shit?"

"I thing he wad talkin' some shit."

"He wad talkin' shit."

We told him that he was a fucking idiot and that Joe had simply been saying what we all knew, that there were too many people in this Cici's on this given day. I looked the ogre-man-beast in the eyes and calmy told him that, "we would never talk about you guys". This was admittedly a lie for we had been talking about the filthy specimens before us throughout the meal in our best six-inch voices. Joe came back and dealt with the same questions and accusations of "shit-talking". He, being a man of peace, told them what he really said and the howl/snort/laugh/hiccup's once again resounded.

The motley group of intellectual champions then got up. They had obviously had their fill of pizza and were ready to go do whatever it is people such as them do with the rest of their day. Maybe they went to the library. On their way out they made more exclamations about the D.A.R.E. shirt and hair styles. Their line of insults never evolved but I guess I shouldn't expect so much. They walked outside and ambled past the window we were sitting by. They, in such an utterly predictable fashion, beat on the window and gave us the one finger salute. I raised my glass to them and pleaded for them to return. They had other stuff to do unfortunately. They piled into their mini-van and drove away.

I know this is QUIK HITZ, and there was nothing quik about that blow-by-blow run down of what happened in the Cici's on that fateful afternoon. I, however, feel it is my right as an educated American to describe the encounter with as many flowery and superfluous adjectives as possible. It is my right to verbally disparage these unfortunate bastards after the fact, and rip them new assholes not with my fists, but with my words. They could do the very same thing if they knew how to spell, write, type, or behave.

If I come off as snobby and/or pompous then I view that as mission accomplished. Anything to distance myself from the testicle sweat of America that was this fivesome.

We just wanted to eat some pizza.

4. FOUR. QUATRO.

Because I have to put something really QUIK after that thing. Go here to listen to the new Sufjan and the new Thom Yorke. Go.

That's enough ranty.

-Derek

Let's watch movies: Alien Hunter

Hey everyone!

Let's watch some movies.

Today we are going to watch Alien Hunter. Alien Hunter stars the incomparable James Spader as the title role and one-time-fastest-man-on-Earth, Carl Lewis (I shit you not).

Let's clear something up first here. Alien Hunter is not The Thing. Yes, they both take place at a remote research facility in Antartica. Yes, they both center around the existence of extra-terrestrial life forms on said research facility. Yes, they are both taut thrillers made with a keen eye for detail and scene construction. Ok, I lied about that last one. Alien Hunter does not have Kurt Russell with a beard but it does has James Spader. In this movie he aimlessly spouts off lame strings of dialogue about how "math is the universal language" and "Aliens are real". He hijacks elements of Jeff Goldblum's characters in both Jurassic Park and ID4 and makes you believe every poorly orchestrated scene.

The story of Alien Hunter is pretty straight forward. An alien disturbance is believed to be discovered at a remote Antarctic-an research facility that is dedicated to growing corn (for some reason...I wasn't listening). The scientists call on James Spader (because he is a FUCKING ALIEN HUNTER...YEAHHHHHH!!) to consult on the alien that they have in their midst. The alien spends most of the movie in a cocoon thing "thawing" out so there really isn't any "hunting" involved. The title of the movie is hugely misleading. Eventually the alien cocoon thing hatches and the alien escapes and people start dying. People's faces melt off in an unimpressive "we stole this effect from Raiders of the Lost Ark and somehow fucked it up" way. Eventually things escalate to a point where some politician dudes (who are sweating a lot because of the gravity of the decisions they are being forced to make) have to send a submarine to blow up the research facility. Spader, some chick scientist and the Wilford Brimley equivalent wind up walking into some alien light and get sucked up into their space ship. The ending is wide the fuck open. Sequel anyone?

This movie was pure turd. Spader tried to carry it on his back and make it awesome but not even Spader is capable of such a feet. Perhaps if he would have played the same part he played in Pretty in Pink. Who knows.

+PROS+
+Carl Lewis is in this movie.
+Spader.
+Carl Lewis.

-CONS-
-Carl Lewis dies in this movie.
-Carl Lewis doesn't do any running in this movie.
-There are no shots of Carl Lewis outrunning alien energy waves or fire.
-When the research facility that was used to grow corn is blown up by the dudes on the submarine not one of them makes a popcorn joke. Hardcore missed opportunity.
-The fact that the alien "costume" was obviously an old (and used) prop from ID4.

I give this film a 3.15564 out of 10
-Derek

DEREK 360: Reality Television

Hello world,

This is an editorial that has been written before. It has been written dozens of times by dozens of different people. It has, I dare say, been written in dozens of languages. It may have even been written in braille. Point is, it's a tired subject.

I, however, do not care.

I was minding my own business sitting on the reality television fence when a TV program came out that pushed me firmly into the "reality TV is fucking terrible" side. Rockstar: Supernova is a new reality show where a handful of "rocker" hopefuls gather and sing excerpts from awesome Top 40 rocks songs of the past 25 years. These sad sack loser contestant people typically compensate for a lack of talent or presentation by caking on eyeliner (in the case of the dudes) or having their massive jugs (in the case of the chicks) on display at all times. All the while Tommy Lee, Jason Newsted, and some dude from Guns 'N Roses sit back scratching their chins wondering if the person before them is the right fit to round out their newly formed "supergroup", SUPERNOVA.

I caught a solid 4 minutes of this show and became so unbelievably irritated that I marched over to my computer and began to type feverishly. I saw the tail end of a dude singing something (not sure what). The dude was obviously a "rocker" because his eyes were heavily lined and his hair was spikey. He also had the whole "rocker" fashion thing down. I began to pay attention when former Janes Addicition/Red Hot Chili Peppers guitar virtuoso and current husband to Carmen Electra, Dave Navarro (who is like a host or something) began to gush about how "totally awesome" the dude was. "The fact that I never knew you existed is why this show is so special," was the exact phrase that trickled out of Mr. Navarro's mouth hole.

From there they showed a quick run down of all gazillion (I think there were like 20) contestants and the song they chose to sing. I heard snippets of songs I recognized from such bands as The Police, Coldplay, Train, and Melissa Etheridge. Rock 'N Roll!!! The dude who was singing Roxanne was so far off (even in the four second snippet) that he immediately became my favorite. It was as though he had never heard the original. My dad, who had seen the performance in its entirety, told me that one of the dudes from SUPERNOVA (who are also judges or something) told him to his face that "he sucked".

If a dude can't fuck up The Police and be praised as a brash and brazen rocker then I don't know what you have to do. I guess the dude song-styling the shit out of Coldplay's Yellow is more what Tommy Lee is looking for.

I am not a person who goes crazy for American Idol but I do appreciate it for what it is. It's a massive talent competition where people bring in their different influences and try to pass those off as "idol worthy" or whatever. My problem with this Rock Star show is that it's all these contestants coming together to fit themselves into this gross little CBS regulated Rock 'N Roll stereotype.

I don't know everything about everything but I do know that not all "rock stars" are like Tommy Lee. I also know that this is a good thing.

Reality TV can be completely awesome (Cheaters, Man Vs. Beast, True Life) or it can be pure shit (Lots of shows). There is absolutely nothing I can do about any of this.

So I complain. Right here.

-Derek

HAPPY 4TH FROM THE JOHNNY!!!

Hello world!

We at the Johnny Utah Symposium wanted to wish you all a happy and safe 4th of July and thank you for being such beautiful people! (And to make up for Andy's last animus filled post).

Here's some fireworks!




So Happy...
-Birthday of America.
-"Fuck England" Day
-National Kick Terrorist Ass Day
-Redcoat Burn Party Day
-Firework Irresponsibility Day
-Burn Ban Ignorance Day
-Quatro de Julio
-Ka-Boom Boom Day
-Eat Red Meat Day '06
-Swim in a pool of English blood day.
-Hardcore America Jamboree!!!

Explosions of Love!

The Dads of Johnny Utah.

Aw no.

I like to think I have some school pride. I cheer for my alma-maters and I cheer against my rivals. That being said, I don't go out of my way to make fun and overly hate my rivals...except for Texas. Even then, however, my disdain is very tame compared to most OU alumni. The same can be said for other Big XII schools. However, after coming across this lame piece of ass-shit, I just can't help but say: "Stupid Faggies".




This is definitely one of the most awful things I have ever seen. It's not even funny awful. It's really pathetic and pitiful. This is how I envision the population of College Station.

Looks like the bonfire missed a couple.

I may be overyhyping my hate for it and this may have been a worthless post.

Love and junk -

Andy (JUhS)

Bad Poetry Guy Presents: "The Cycle of Life"

The spider eats the fly,
but the fly doth not die.
The fly flied around
inside the belly of the spider
and it made the spider puke.

When the spider yakked,
the fly was back.
Back from the stomach of Tyrus the Spider.
Back from the dead.

The fly takes the to the hills.
Through the teachings of some rogue ants
the fly learns how to kills.
The ants say goodbye
and cry.

The fly leaves the crying ants
and returns to the party to dance
with Tyrus the Spider.
They go round and round and round again.
Until Potsy the Fly kills Tyrus dead.

Dead!

-Bad Poetry Guy

Flipping Out With Joe Mikulik

When I was 6 years old, I punched my grandmother in the face and then repeatedly shut the oven door on her head because she refused to give me just 4 more animal crackers! 4 MORE!!!

When I was 16 my high school chemistry teacher, Mrs. Stephens, accused me of cheating so I took a vat of hydochloric acid and threw it against her wall melting the pictures of her ugly ass family. Then, I sat down in my chair and clearly reenacted how I couldn't have cheated off the chick next to me with the big jugs because said jugs flopped over her test paper preventing any opportunity to cheat. I then micturated in Mrs. Stephens' fish tank while screaming at the top of my lungs "I AM NOT A CHEATER!".

A few years ago my youngest daughter got a puppy for her birthday. One afternoon, after I had gone way out of my way to Dairy Queen to purchase a cold, delicious strawberry shake to feed my craving for a cold, delicious strawberry shake I had to take a quick phone call in my study and left my cold, delicious strawberry shake in the kitchen. Upon completion of the call, I returned to the kitchen to find said puppy in the middle of a cold, delicious strawberry shake puddle on the kitchen floor. I got so angry and red in the face that my bow tie I was wearing caught on fire and smoke started to spout from my ears like steam from a tea pot. I then made a scream that only mythological sirens could understand, which broke every piece of glass in my house. I picked up the puppy and proceeded to punt it through some football uprights. When my daughter started to cry at the "cruelty" I had shown to her "precious Snaps", I dropped an anvil on her head and then punted her through some uprights as well. I then found a spoon and tried to salvage what I could of my now warm, melted, but delicious none-the-less strawberry floor shake.

So, some could say I have a "history of poor anger management". Some could say I "make mountains out of mole hills". I say that I'm merely a man of my own accord. I'm just trying to play with the cards I've been dealt and fighting for the little man and trying to rid the world of injustice. My life motto: "NEVER SURRENDER". My good friend, homie, brethren, mentor, etc., Malcolm X said "by any means necessary". Therefore, I feel justified in my actions from Sunday afternoon's baseball game in which, I "lost control" and garnered me a suspension and fine (as I'm sure you've all heard or seen by now). Here's the footage, just in case...



Shit, I hate Stuart Scott. Personally, I think I need to do some more bicep and deltoid work in the gym...where I'm regularly found forging my own weights from scrap steel I find under the highway.

So, now I find myself with 7 days off and out $1,000. What am I going to do with myself? I don't know. Some say I should "go to counseling". Some say I should take a trip or find a hobby. Hey! I have a hobby! It's called kicking ass and taking names and flipping the ass out!

Just this morning, I woke up to find my neighbor putting HIS trashbags into MY trash bin because his overly wasteful ass is too much for HIS bin to handle. I instantly Fred Flinstoned (walking with chest forward, feet stomping, arms pressed like concrete down to the ground) to the curb where I flung his trash all over his yard saying "shit" a lot. I then, set his piece of shit Toyota Prius ablaze while grabbing my crotch in the direction of his house with one hand and giving him the bird with the other. Next, I chopped down the giant oak in his front yard with my hands and fashioned a battering ram with which I knocked down his front door. I punched my neighbor in the nose, gave him a wedgie and then burned the bottom of his feet with a hot iron I had plugged in earlier. Finally, I told him his kids were "ugly retards" and that his wife had small boobs and stormed out after scattering some Chips Ahoy cookies across his living room.

Some say I'm insane and evil. I say I'm just living. Some say I need to relax. I say you can kiss my ass.

DEREK 360: Things you need to know

Let me drop some more knowledge on you childrens. These are things you need to know.

KNOWLEDGE #6
Rollerblading is not awesome. Ever.

Rollerblading came into mass popularity sometime in the mid 1980s (i think). People would go to the local mercantile and purchase brightly colored blades and then get together with friends to rollerblade up and down their respective streets. They would form sweet rollerblading clubs and roll up and down the avenues in different formations like the "V", the "Z" and the "Long Dong Dragon". Correspondingly awful fashion was employed to make the rollerblader look like a giant neon colored spandex enthusiast. In the 80s, a decade regarded as completely ridiculous, rollerblading and its many life changing behaviors were merely drops in the big bucket of said ridiculousiosity. The lame way people looked both wearing blades and "blading" on blades was also partially acceptable in the early to mid 90s. However, in our current climate of awesome (of which the Johnny is oh-so-happy to be a part of), rollerblading needs to be outlawed. The only time rollerblading is at all warranted is when you have the blades on and are performing sweet tricks off of benches, rails, cars, or drained pools. In any other set of circumstances rollerblading is not awesome. Not at all.

That's it for now. Happy Fathers Day everyone!

I invite all of those who disagree with the above knowledge to comment.

Trust these things, for they are fact.

-Derek

Let's watch movies: Heat

Hey everyone!

Let's watch some movies.

Today we are going to watch Heat. Heat stars Al Pacino, Robert DeNiro, Val Kilmer, Tommy "Boom Boom" Sizemore and one of my favorite actors, Tom Noonan.

Heat is a movie about bad mother-fuckin' dudes. I actually heard that Bad Mother-Fuckin' Dudes Kickin' Ass and Stealin' Some Shit was a potential title. The movie centers around the "adventures" of two men. Pacino plays a cop (who kicks ass) and DeNiro plays a crook (who steals some shit). The two men respect each other but want to put a stop to one another at the same time. The movie is punctuated by some of the slickest and most radical action scenes ever captured in a movie. There are a lot of bullets and a lot of windows being broken. The movie takes a turn for the awesome as Pacino and DeNiro get more and more intense until it eventually pole vaults well over the previously set record of awesome and sets a new one during the final hour. Oh yeah, Tom Noonan is in it. He hasn't been this good since Robocop 2 and that is really saying something. Heat is an astoundingly awesome and all around amazingly astute action adventure (ALLITERATION BITCHES) movie. It is three hours long but it's a good three hours. It doesn't really feel long. It feels developed. Yeah.

Reviews tend to be both more difficult to write and less entertaining to read when the movie being reviewed is good. I will make a note of this and try to review pure shit (see Havoc) more often in the future.

+PROS+
+Stellar cast that delivers on all of its potential.
+Multiple hair styles from Val Kilmer!!
+Tom Noonan with a beard.
+LOTS of broken glass.
+Jeremy Piven is actually in this movie.

-CONS-
-There were not enough references to the temperature being "damned hot". This made me feel cheated by the title. A movie called Heat should be about hotness. Pacino should've looked DeNiro right in the face and said, "DAMN IT MAAANNN! IT IS HOT!". That would've really made it for me in a big way.
-The fact that John Voight (yeah he's in this too...and he's surly as balls) doesn't spell his name John VOYT.

I give this film a 8.99878 out of 10
-Derek

The JU(H)S Goes East: Andrew heads to the land of the Red Dragon

Well, after enough delay to invoke a full-fledged anticlimax, I have finally arrived in Hong Kong. I have the tendency land in new places at night, so I don't think I've had the full effect yet. From what I can tell so far, it seems pretty awesome. Right now it's 11:20pm - unfortunately my body thinks it's 11:20am. Consequently, I probably won't be sleeping tonight. I'm debating whether or not to go out and explore a strange city after midnight, or stay put and live to see daylight. I think I'll opt for prudence at this juncture - I'm here until November, so I'll have plenty of time for excursions.

Although situated in a much more exotic locale, I can't say my story has the same flair as Michael's recent travels. He is kicking ass and taking names (possibly literally regarding the latter) as a PA and LA Film Festival intern. I am merely carrying on virtually the same job I had in NY, except with even more excruciating hours. Hopefully in the coming weeks, I will have something more interesting to report. In the meantime, as Derek so eloquently put, we can finally say the JU(H)S is international - spanning the globe from HK, LA, Dallas, NY, and soon London. Not bad fellas. The expansion can only continue.

Lastly, some tidbits: Derek - I expect a copy of Elephant Gun. I will find some way to pay you, probably via the parents. Mike - I appreciate your attempt to compromise on our naming scheme with "JU(H)S". As you can see, I've adopted this format for my own use. Henceforth, the Johnny Utah Symposium shall be know as, not "JUS", not "JUhS", but ... "JU(H)S". Previously, not enough acronyms contained parentheses. We can proudly say we righted this wrong. Andy - if you're in a movie with Walter Sobchak ... ... there are no words. Please make this happen.

Konichiwiiiiizzziiiiii,

Andrew
"Proud JU(H)S Member Since 2006!"

DEREK 360: We are not dead.

Hey gang,

I thought I would take this opportunity to fill in all of you with the recent happenings of the JUS founding dad dudes. This is being provided to both inform and potentially entertain you all and to also operate as an excuse for the lack of posting in the past week to 10 days. Let's see here:

Michael is in Los Angeles as he so perfectly articulated in the post below this one. He is there accosting celebrities and chasing his dreams.

Andrew is in the process of moving to Hong Kong. No joke. Once he's there and settled the JUS will go international in a big way. Yes. Konichiwiiiiizzziiiiii.

Andy has signed with a talent agent and recently auditioned for a sweet Xmas-based MOW (Movie of the Week) with John Goodman.

Oh, and me? It is no secret that I play in a band called Hardin Sweaty and The Ready to Go. The band just completed album number three and it is currently being manufactured into mass quantities somewhere in Indiana. It should be available to the public for the first time June 30th. The album is called Elephant Gun and it is probably the best album ever made. Ever.

It's all very exciting.

Stay tuned because the JUS is reloading. More and more new and exciting content (that will be the fucking awesome) is coming soon.

-Derek