Friday, April 30, 2010

Johnny's Famous...


Is Johnny opening a chain of Tex-Mex restaurants? I fucking wish. As do you, Johnnyheads. Trust me, my Mexiloaf would blow your fucking minds, then blow out your tight little assholes, you tight little assholes.

These shots were actually taken from a recent episode of Lost—which oddly enough I wrote about shortly before this episode aired. It's a remarkable coincidence, one which feels somehow appropriate due to the mystical nature of the show. Some might call it serendipity. But not me because that word reminds me of that gay movie with John Cusack. You know the one—Must Love Dogs. Johnny prefers the word kismet. Much, much less gay.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Subway Stories 12: Like You've Never Thrown Away A Perfectly Good Walker In The Bowels Of The New York City Subway System

Seriously, what the fuck?

Who throws away a walker at the Times Square subway station?
Crack babies, used condoms, even Walker, Texas Ranger figurines I get.

But a walker?

There can only be one rational explanation: An ambulatory-challenged person, or "cripple," as they like to be called, was waiting for the 1 train when he or she was approached and then miraculously healed by the magic, open-sored hands of a crazy lunatic homeless man spouting Philippians 4:13 ("He who smelt it, dealt it.").

If you can think of a better explanation, Johnny would like to hear it.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Iranian Cleric: "Skanky Women Cause Earthquakes"


First of all, duh. Secondly, this is in direct contrast to Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's past statements claiming that the Jews were responsible for earthquakes—as well as floods, volcanic eruptions and Mandy Patinkin.

(Editor's Note: At press time, only Mandy Patinkin could be confirmed as being the fault of the Jews.)

Monday, April 19, 2010

Goldman Sachs: Has There Ever Been A Bigger Collection Of Douchebags?

All that money, but still bald. Suck it, nerds!

Monday, April 12, 2010

Holy Fucking Shit



Wednesday, April 7, 2010

“Um, I Believe That’s Fungal...”

Five words you definitely don’t want to hear from anyone, let alone your physician. But that’s indeed what Johnny heard earlier today from Dr. Feelgood. Was he pointing to my balls? No. At least not at that moment. He was pointing to a group of small red welts nestled in the ample thatch that constitutes my chest bush.


Let’s go over what you’ve learned about Johnny today:
(1) Johnny doesn’t wax or shave his chest like most pussy guys.
Sawyer’s chest on Lost is smoother than a newborn’s—and most Greek women’s. Fucking ridiculous, if you ask me.

With all the shit he has to worry about on that island—foraging for food, making sure that fat fuck Hurley doesn’t eat it all (Why is he still so fat? He lives on a desert island, for fuck’s sake), trying to bang Kate, trying to not get killed by that smoke monster, trying to bang Kate, traveling through time, and so on and so forth—he’s still vain enough to make sure his chest is bare? Are you kidding me? Can you imagine what his balls look like? His beautiful, smooth as freshly-picked Macouns, balls. Where was I? Oh, right. Sawyer’s magnificent balls. Smooth as a pair of neo-Nazi’s heads. Anyway, back to his bare chest. Where exactly is he getting all these razors? And don’t you dare say, “The DHARMA Initiative”! Goddamn, this devolved into a nerdy discussion.

(2) Johnny watches Lost.
But mainly to see if they'll ever show Kate in her panties again. Or Sawyer's balls.

(3) Johnny is obsessed with Sawyer’s balls.
His breathtaking, smooth as an infant's head emerging from the vagina of a Macoun-eating neo-Nazi, balls.

(4) Johnny’s chest bush is repulsive.
Even without the red welts, it wasn’t exactly a pretty picture, looking like something out of a Burt Reynolds film. One can only imagine it now.

(5) Johnny’s Dr. Feelgood reference means he either loves Mötley Crüe or heroin.
Though, according to the reputable, Dr. Feelgood also refers to the following: “When a guy puts his penis in his girlfriend’s ass and uses the friction from moving in and out to loosen her up when she is feeling constipated, e.g., My girlfriend was feeling stuffed up so I gave her a Dr. Feelgood."

Hot stuff. No doubt women across America are requesting just such a thing right now. I’d love to oblige them, but I’m off to the pharmacy to get some anti-fungal cream.

Anyone who wishes to watch me rub it into my chest bush—I’m looking at you, MSG—please check back to this site tonight at 8pm EST. I’ll be doing a live webcast. Followed by a Dr. Feelgood—tune in to see whether that means it'll be me doing heroin, listening to Mötley Crüe, or banging some broad in the can. Or, if the stars align, a combination of all three.