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.