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.

Another Year, Another JUhS Reunion

I'm still dead, but if you're in the area this holiday season my spirit will be roaming the streets of New York City.

Why New York? Because that's where the three surviving Dad Dudes (and their lady friends) will gather, finally together after a year and likely not at all lamenting my death. Not in the slightest.

But I'll be there in spirit, meant in a very real sense. If I can harness this Spectrix of Awesome I've been talking about and somehow inject said spirit into the body of a sentient being, have no doubt shit will go down. They say revenge is a dish best served cold, but whoever said that was a pussy.

Despite my current state of non-livingness, it will almost certainly be a kick ass few days.

Since I'm dead and writing is a significant burden, I'd like to convey my prediction of how the New Year gathering will unfold through a series of images. Via stream of consciousness, if you will, since that's the only natural conduit left available to me. Oh, and fuck all of you.

NEW YEARS EVE, THE JOHNNY WAY

You know, more or less like that.

Consider Yourselves Haunted - A Canadian Rock Trifecta

Fuck you.



Fuck you.



Fuck you.



Insanity!

aaaand... Fuck all of you.

Death® Revealed

I am dead.

Yes, you read it correctly. This is not a joke. This is not made up. I have died. Michael's story is completely true.

I've drawn in my last breath. I've fucked with my last airport security employee. I've made fun of my last French person.


As a result, obviously, there are now three where once there were four. In which case you may be thinking to yourself, how is this guy still posting on the Johnny if indeed he is as dead as he claims to be?

My answer to that is simple. Because everything you thought you knew about Death® before today is wrong. The Johnny Utah Symposium, due to the passing of one of its founding dad dudes, is able to uncover what no physicist, chemist, major religion, minor religion, astrologer, catholic, biologist, crazy homeless man, geneticist or philosopher has ever, in the history of mankind, been able to explain: what happens to us when we die?

I, Andrew John Salvoni, once stuck in the colon that is Planet Earth, have now passed through the anus of Death® and emerged, turd-like, into afterlife.

Before rewarding our most loyal readers with an explanation of what Death® is, I'll start by telling you what it isn't.

First, there is no god, or heaven, or even hell. Jesus doesn't walk up to you with a lamb in one hand and the keys to paradise in the other. There aren't 60 big-breasted virgins waiting to satisfy your every whim. There isn't a 8-armed hindu goddess or a fat dude riding an elephant. It's not pitch black or blinding white. There's no tunnel. There's no pearly gate. Your life doesn't flash before your eyes. There's no purgatory, no nirvana and no reincarnation. You don't fly through the stars and immediately know all the secrets of the universe. You don't get to meet John F. Kennedy, Babe Ruth or Adolf Hitler. You don't wake up in a pool of goo and realize you were stuck in a matrix created by the machines feeding off human energy. It's not a Linklater film, or a Dali painting. In short, Death® is not even close to anything you could conceivably expect.

Before I tell you what it is, I have one more thing to say...

In fact, I'm not actually going to give away the secret. Instead, I'm going to haunt this blog incessantly until I feel like stopping, or until the cure for death is found. Fuck all of you.

Why We Haven't Updated: The Loss Of A Brother

Hello Americans.

It's been nearly a month and a half since any of us have updated. In that time, I am sure that the Johnny Utah has fallen off your radar, and is no longer one of your daily web stops used to pass the time at work. Derek, Andrews, and myself greatly apologize for this.

There is a reason for our absentee-ism. Over the past month, we have suffered a loss that has rocked the Johnny Utah Symposium to it's very core.

On 10/31/07, Founding Dad Dude Andrew Salvoni passed away. He is stone fucking dead.

ANDREW JOHN SALVONI: 1983-2007

He was killed in a firefight with London police at Heathrow Airport. Apparently, he was mistaken for a terrorist in a last ditch effort to escape from his shackles of the banking world. He had almost made it passed security when was he asked to take off his shoes. Andrew refused, stating: "I ain't taking off my Chucks for you crooked teeth muthafuckas. I got bitches ta be explodin'."

It escalated from there. He tried to take a suitcase hostage, but was quickly gunned down. Toxicology reports revealed that he was drunk off Ketel One, and on three different forms of PCP.

His mother, Rosemary Salvoni, declined an interview with us. She said that, "I wouldn't even pay to have that idiot shipped back here, I'm not wasting weekend minutes talking to his asshole friends."

Andrew was cremated and his remains scattered around Abbey Road. We're aware he did not want it that way, but no one felt like putting much effort into his memorial.

Anyway, the four are now three, and our hearts go out to the hardworking men and women of airline security.

DEREK 360: Linkz

1. JCPenney.
2. Dragons fucking cars (NSFW).
3. The Dig Dug.
4. Evil.

XOXOXOXO!

Danger Lurks in the Corners of your Mind

DEREK 360: Gummi Wheres

Best. Post. Ever.

DEREK 360: Freak Nasty FAQs

I'm back.

Enough about me though. I want to talk about Freak Nasty. THE Freak Nasty. The dopest, illest, sickest, baddest, rottenest, pestulentest MC since that dude in C&C Music Factory with the pony tail. Freak Nasty, who gave us "Da Dip" and a metric ton of other life lessons along the way.

I present Freak Nasty FAQs

Q: What is Freak Nasty's real name?
A: Freak Nasty's real name is Freak Bill Nasty. He also sometimes goes by the following monikers: Coach B, Stephen Burnett, Brilliant Music Genius, and RenatO.

Q: Is Freak Nasty a Nordic God?
A: Technically no (you're thinking of Odin), but he is highly revered in all of the Scandinavian provinces and actually has a fjord named after him. Freak Nasty Fjord is beautiful in early Winter. He is not exclusively idolized in remote European nations though. He is renowned worldwide for his ability to bring people together in a cohesive and intelligent way. For example, before every G8 conference "Da Dip" is played on a loud speaker. His music is also one of the main reasons babies are being born today.


Q: I heard some busta talking shit about Freak Nasty the other day. What should I do to him?
A: Take away all of the Freak Nasty albums he's hiding (including his second copy of Controversee...That's Life...And That's the Way It Is which is probably hidden in a sealed bag in his toilet tank) and watch him die a miserable Dipless death. Either that or take him to any club in the world (except those where Oakenfold is spinning...Oakenfold and Freak Nasty go together like Maroon 5 and The Hives) and show him the wonders that the FN can bring.

Q: What is Freak Nasty's day job?
A: His day job is creating the music of a generation. He also dabbles in winning awards (The four Tony's he won back in '97 for his work as Raul in The Phantom of The Opera are only one example), inventing stuff, and teaching at Alameda High School in California.

Q: Wow, Freak Nasty is a teacher? Does he ever incorporate his groundbreaking music into the classroom activities?
A: Freak Nasty's music casts a pretty gigantic shadow. It would be impossible for him to dodge it, so naturally he embraces it and utilizes it as a teaching tool. At a pep rally at AHS in '04 he performed "Da Dip" to "pump up" the school before a big game. He was criticized after this performance for some innappropriate gestures with an underage student but because it's Freak Nasty the superintendent threw up his hands and said, "WHATEV!".


Q: Other than "Da Dip", what are some Freak Nasty jams I should be aware of?
A: This list can be long and daunting so I'll scale it back and give you the starter course on Freak Nasty appreciation. Start with "Da Dip". Learn it and love it, because remember, if you're not dippin' you must be trippin'. From there put in a copy of his self titled album and listen to track eleven, "1 4 Da T.H.U.G.S.". From there go back one track and listen to "My Alpha Bitches" before finishing up with track three, "Da End of Mista Big". Those three songs will give you a peek into Freak Nasty's early world. After that pop in his masterpiece, Controversee...That's Life...And That's the Way It Is, and listen to "Da Dip" eight times. After that hit up "Bump That Rump", "I Want 2 Fuck", "Boom Boom Bomb", "Deep Deep South", "Rumors Pt. 2" and "Fuckie Suckie (At Freaknasty Party)" in any order. The you should be ready. For anything.

Q: Was I conceived while my parents listened to "Da Dip"?
A: Yes.

That's all for now.

It's good to be back.

NOT Andy (JUhS)

Hello internet world.

Just wanted to take this time to let you know that this is NOT me.

Thank you.

Awful evil bad bad

Just a couple examples of stuff that's wrong with our world today but still gives me hope for my future as well as the future of the Johnny Dudes. If this crap can make it into the mainstream and be responsible for making dudes rich and famous, just imagine what OUR brand of zaniness and charm could do...

1.) Who's Your Caddy??? (dammit)





2.) Viva Viagra??? (I assume this is what happens to those dudes who bring their accoustic guitar everywhere with them as teenagers/20-somethings....p.s. - does they say "got me a horny?" and "i'm not a guy who's straight?".)





3.) Those piss me off...almost as much as this: Carlos Mencia Budlight.......AHHHHH!






I just don't know what to do.


Sorry to pollute the blog.

Come see my play.

The Johnny YouTube Premiere

Hello readers.

Back, way back, when everyone got tookenover, we here at the JUhS promised a multimedia experience like none other. Since then, you probably thought that promise was bullshit. Well, I'm here today to tell you the promise we made is now being made good.

You may remember Derek coming over to Europe awhile back to see the sights, eat shitty English food, bag some Eastern European hunnies, and "take the piss" out of the French.

We also made a few videos, and this is one of them. We think you'll like it. Scratch that - we know you'll like it, shoddy editing notwithstanding.

Without further ado ... The Great Primrose Hill Roll. Enjoy.

HAPPY FUCKING FOURTH!

Summer revelations:

1.) LIVE FREE OR DIE HARD is the most out-of-its-goddamned-mind action film I have ever seen. 80 boners out of 5.

2.) Billy Corgan has returned to his Rock God status, but with a little less omnipotency than before.

3.) Committing yourself to a long-term relationship is not only incredibly rewarding, but really really really really really hard.

4.) HAPPY FUCKING FOURTH!

The Johnny or Porn?

This is the question I was faced with this evening ... because you know why? I have the internet again, and it's a thing of glory. It almost defies comprehension, but for the past seven months I've been without the internet at home. Seven months. It's like living in the medieval times, or prison. In fact, I'm pretty sure some prisons have a fairly regular internet connection. In my home that hasn't been the case. Until today. And I'm fucking stoked about it, you have no idea.

The Johnny has been deprived as of late. But for my part, given my new internets situation, I can promise you a little something more. I'm so excited, I don't even know what I'm doing here.

Alright, update time I suppose. Still living in London as you may or may not know. I went to Budapest last weekend. Two misconceptions: the Danube, as far as I could tell, was not exceptionally blue. Looked like any other river to me. Secondly, no one made any "I'M SO HUNGARY I COULD EAT A BORSCHT" jokes. Disappointing. Cool place though, I enjoyed it.

This weekend I have a trip to Amsterdam coming up. Just hold it right there ... I know what you're thinking. What I will be doing: biking and visiting the van Gogh museum. What I won't be doing: soliciting prostitutes and eating hash brownies. I promise. Come on people, I wouldn't want to lose my job...

...

More to report later, but believe me, the Johnny U is open for business. You love it.

-Andrew (JUhS)

To Anonymous: Go Fuck Yourself

Alright. So it's been awhile. But then I'm searching through the comments in AWC's last post and I stumble upon this little something:

"anonymous said...

RIP JUHS?"

Uhhhhhhhhh, what the hell is that about? Let's get this straight: I fucking hate anonymous commenters. If you aren't man (or woman) enough to at least put a face to your opinion then you're an unselfconfident douche. I'd turn off anonymous commenting but ... meh. Fuck you.

And then it's "RIP" ... like this blog has somehow died? Why don't you get on here and write something your damn self, anonymous? We're fucking busy. We're not dead; it's called a summer slowdown. It's not our fault there's nothing entertaining going on in the news. Aquatic deaths have been down. Celebrity idiocy is at an all time historical high. Paris is getting the job done right now ... you don't need us. We're supposed to be out there digging up the hot underground shit for you, not feeding you what you can get on the front page of CNN. You lazy cunt. Fuck you.

And another thing, even if the blog did die, there's a really, really high chance it'd come back to life. It's died before and it's been resurrected before. This is a long term investment. And sometimes long term investments don't pay dividends for a while. You know? But do you sell when the market's slow? NO, you fucking buy that shit up before it gets hot again. Otherwise you'll sit there with your fake Gucci wallet wondering why you're not in the game. Listen, just stay in the fucking game. Don't sell now. Just don't. Don't. Don't. Oh... oh, just... Fuck you.

And when we say Takeover, we mean it. If you're gonna go through with this and get tookover, do us a favor and stay tookenover. This can't be a monthly uhh, occurrence, alright? We commence with a takeover once, and that shit sticks. We have all these plans, sure, but it takes a while to put into action. There's lots of planning and organizing and reorganizing and creative-head-juice-squeezing involved. We don't just shit out entertaining posts (present post excluded) ... it takes foresight. OK? Fuck you.

.......

Umm, I forgot where I was going with this. I had grand plans for this post, but that all went to hell somewhere in the last couple of paragraphs. Ehh, I don't mean to let you people in on more than you care to know about me ... but I haven't really been getting any lately (with English girls, that's probably a good thing). Honestly, I'm a little stressed. So if I come off strong ... that's why. Anyway, the blog is not dead. The Johnny is not dead. Wilbur Burris is not dead. Quit your fucking complaining, anonymous, and create something with your life. Completely seriously, fuck you.

Flipping Out With the Johnny U.

We here at the JUhS love many things. Two of those things are baseball and flipping out. Seriously. Love baseball and flipping out. So, of course, we love it when the two combine. About a year ago Joe Mikulik gave us this. In what I believe to be an homage, Phil Wellman of the Atlanta Braves’ AA affiliate, the Mississippi Braves, gave us this amazing bit of flipping out:





Johnny Flipping Out Rating: 8 out of 10 Eggs Fried on Foreheads (tied for lead with Mikulik)

Now, after his amazing performance, Joe Mikulik was given the Johnny as an arena in which to come on and explain himself and let the public know a bit about him. So, in fairness, the Johnny caught up with Mr. Coach Phil Wellman after the game:

JUhS: Welcome Mr. Coach.
Phil Wellman: You can call me Philbo.
JUhS: Not doing that. Anyway, we truly appreciate your performance the other night. I believe it tied the Flipping Out Fried Egg record. What do you have to say?
PW: Well, personally, I believe that to be an unstable rating system, but I’m glad. I wish I could've done more to set a new record. Next time, maybe I'll whip out my package or something....take a dump on the bat boy...something special. I’ve been studying under Bobby Cox, who is about to become the most ejected man in baseball history. As well, I consider Lou Piniella a mentor and hero and I have his poster above my bed.
JUhS: Hm. We certainly appreciate your creativity you put into your performance, meaning the army crawl and grenade attack with the resin bag. What was your inspiration?
PW: Well, few know this, but I’m actually a Soldier of Fortune. I’m well connected and very dangerous and that was just a warning to the umpire that his family’s house will probably be firebombed. Did you notice my thoroughness in covering the ENTIRE plate with dirt? Too many dudes just kick some dirt on there. But I wanted to make sure that it was done right.
JUhS: We’re kind of scared right now. So, what’s on your iPod?
PW: I have a huge mix of stuff. Charlie Daniels, Europe, Daughtry, Triumph, Da' Brat, and my all time favorite, Al Green. That was actually my iPod getting blazed over the PA during my performance. I called up to the booth and told Teddy the PA man to cycle over to my "Smooth Jams" playlist and crank up the good Reverend. I figured it established a good dichotomy for my performance. I like to sometimes call up and tell Teddy the PA man to cycle to my "Booty Jamz" playlist and get some JT Money in the air. Get them bitches in the crowd to "shake dey fat azzes".
JUhS: Wow. You’re quite the enigma...and crazy. Well, thanks for your time Coach. And best of luck.
PW: Thanks, man. But seriously, we’re the revolution.

After he said that, some horses crashed through the walls of the clubhouse and Coach jumped into the sidecar of a motorcycle driven by a leather-clad dude with a spiked-helmet (I THINK it was Dan Aykroyd). Then, they all stormed off and all that was left was the resonating sound of Lloyd Banks being bumped from the boom box being carried by one of the horsemen. Truly a weird night.

The Johnny Gets Jealous

With the Texas Rangers' season already over (tease: FUTURE RANT TO COME!), the Johnny Dads need a new pastime.

Oh. Found it...

Darkon



We're already heroes.

"Wailing, teeth gnashing ... wait, where am I?"

Wow. If you liked Jerry at all ... um ... don't scroll down to the previous post.

Then again, if you liked Jerry you probably weren't reading this blog.

First of all, the Johnny and its affiliates can not and will not take responsibility for what happened today. Personally, I think he just took it hard when Newt broke things off. It was inevitable. Tragic really.

Now, this may be a tad more severe than, say ... a 45-day jail sentence. And I don't (necessarily) care to promote senseless death. But like they always say, it's not like he didn't have it coming.

Inasmuch, here's to one less idiot on the planet. Let's hope he's not reincarnated (it's un-Christian, anyway). And if he is, let's hope it's as something farther down the food chain.


In parting, some items Jerry may learn on his way straight to ... well, wherever it is he's headed now:

• The Earth is round



• The Earth orbits the Sun (the Revolution Machine theory)



• The Earth is more than 12,000 years old



• We sort of look a little like monkeys for a reason



• Michael Thomas (JUhS) once directed a one-act version of "Inherit the Wind"



• The movie was way better



• Religions other than Christianity exist



• Christian denominations other than Southern Baptist-ism (Baptism?) exist



• Countries other than America exist



• People other than Americans exist



• Those people most likely hated him



• Turns out the gays didn't cause the war in Iraq



• It was the Jews



• Not really, it was just Cheney



• Tinky Winky was the only straight Teletubby



• People who think things other than the things he thinks exist (or something)



• Church is boring

Jerry Falwell
RIP
1933-2007

P.S. - You're pointing the wrong way.

Johnny U Preview: The 2008 Presidential Election - Newt Gingrich

Bear in mind this is an apolitical blog. The Johnny Utah Symposium neither supports nor opposes any of the following candidates. We make no contributions, monetary or otherwise, to any of their campaigns. Wilbur Burris is not a registered voter. We just call it like we see it.

--A Day in the Life: Newt Decides to Run for President--

[Alarm sounds - digitized rendition of "God Bless America"]

[Newt hits the snooze button]

[5 minutes pass - repeat]

[5 more minutes pass - repeat]

[Another 5 minutes pass - Newt, in a fit of rage, throws alarm clock into wall - causes dent]

Newt: Fuuuuuck. I am tired. What the fuck am I gonna do today?

[Newt pulls flask from under pillow - takes swig]

Newt: Yes... *burp* ... hell yes.

[Newt takes Time magazine from night stand]


Newt: I am so ... awesome. Honey, look at this. Look at how awesome I am. Honey ... honey look.

Callista: [half asleep] I know baby ... I ...

[Newt dead-legs his wife]

Newt: Bitch, get up! Time to check for lumps! Shirt off, arms up!

Callista: [fully awake] Baby, we did this yesterday ...

Newt: Do I need to remind you about our little contract?

[Newt consults Contract with Wife, Third Edition displayed on night stand]

Newt: Honey, you know I can't be president if you've got the cancer. Come on, get 'em out.

[Newt checks his wife for breast cancer - finds nothing]

Newt: Clean. Good. You're good.

[Newt begins singing "My Humps"]

Callista: Baby, you know I get upset when you do that. Please, that joke is so played out.

Newt: [singing] ... my lovely lady lumps ... check it out!

Callista: New-new...

Newt: Honey, shut up, you know it's all in the contract. [taps on contract] You know what? It's time. Today I'm going to announce my candidacy.

Callista: Newton...

Newt: It's for the good of America. I'm running for president.

Callista: Are you sure that's such a great idea? Maybe you should stick to writing for a while.

Newt: I'll be running against a fake Republican who lives with the gays, Cancer McCancer-face, and some Mormon named Mitt.
I. Can't. Lose.

Callista: [pause] I want a divorce.

Newt: Fine. I was cheating on you anyway. Come on, Jerry. Let's go.

[Jerry Falwell jumps out of bedroom closet - completely nude except for throw pillow]

Jerry: Newt! Jerry! 2008!

Newt: Hells yeah!

Jerry: Hallelujah!

[They high-five - Kiss - Freeze frame]


SCENE.

Happy FYA Day

Today is May 1st. May Day to some. Labo(u)r Day to others. "Fuck You America" Day to all. As if this differs from any other day on the calendar.

What once was a festival for pagans to prance around phallic totem poles has eventually devolved into a celebration of the working man, socialists, and anarchists. How something can sink below jumping around a giant, leafy wooden dick is beyond me, but there you have it.

I don't know what it's gonna take, but sooner or later the socialists need to realize it isn't fucking working out. You can whine and moan all you want about how America is the reason for all your problems. Or, you can take it a step further like Hugo Chavez and nationalize what little remains of your country's privately run oil companies. It's May! Fuck You America! How symbolic.

Not that I'm waxing apologetic for Big Oil (the fuckers). It's a topic that has been covered in this space before. However, I prefer my evil, faceless, autonomous corporations to fuck me via the free market system. ExxonMobil is like having the discomfort of an extra large dildo in your ass. But at least they have the courtesy to lube up first. Hugo is dry-fucking his country. And the dildo's red. With Che's famous logo emblazoned across the base.


You know what? Fuck all those know-nothing Che idolizers too. Dude's been dead for 40 years. You think all the fourteen year olds wearing his merch have any idea who he is? And I still have to see his righteous, revolutionary mug all over t-shirts, messenger bags, belt buckles, wallets. Wallets?! If that isn't irony at its base level, I don't know what is.

Here. Put this on a fucking t-shirt.


He's dead. Move on. I know he was a hero in Latin America. I'm all for rising up against oppressors when all other options fail. Our constitution was drafted to protect that very freedom (a freedom of which the NRA very frequently reminds us). But honestly, if you think dudes like Chavez and Castro aren't fucking you just as badly, then I don't know what to tell you.

Most of all - more than all this political bullshit - I hate May Day because everyone else in Europe gets the day off while I have to sit here at work. Fine. The pinkos win. For once, I'm jealous.