My Easter at the County Jail.

My latest adventure started Good Friday at the tavern, I was watching one of my favorite television programs, Wheel of Fortune, with one of my closest friends, ex-ballplayer and announcer Tim McCarver. Tim and I had both had too much to drink when we began bickering about potential solutions to the puzzle that was being played on Wheel. Needless to say that the argument got more and more heated, and Tim and I got more and more drunk. Soon our insults about our vowel choices, turned into personal insults. I reminded Tim of the fact that he was an terrible announcer, and he sucked royally during the ALCS, I taunted him about his claims of a perfect game after the first pitch of the game, and I laid claim to the fact that he had personally caused millions of Americans to turn the sound off during the World Series tele-cast. At this point McCarver was irate, he threw his stool across the bar, breaking it into about a hundred pieces. He then began to list the ways I had annoyed him over the past 15 years, ending his rant by calling me a peg-legged freak. That was the straw the broke the camel's back.

Ever since I opened my tavern I have kept and extra leg behind the bar, not only for protection, but also for unfortunate incidents that can happen with wood legs: chipping, cracks, termites, etc. I grabbed the leg and began beating McCarver down with it, yelling "How's this for peg-legged freak?", a statement which I now admit made no sense whatsoever. In a fit of rage McCarver grabbed a part of his broken stool and fought back. In the melee that ensued the local police were called, McCarver and I were both arrested, and we missed the answer to the much debated puzzle (If anyone was watching the clue was "Thing", and I believe the answer was "Apollo Lunar Module").

Forced to spend the night, and much of the following day, in the County Jail, McCarver and I sobered up, and made up. This process that was accelerated by the our cell-mates, Julio and Sam who claimed to be former employees of Pablo Escobar, and who had been arrested for possession with the intent to distribute (we later found Julio and Sam to be great guys- I wish them the best of luck).

For the record I would like to say I'm sorry to my old friend Tim, and to those we may have disturbed with our brawl. Sometimes even the best of friends fight, but we did learn a valuable lesson from our fight and the punishment that followed: Wheel of Fortune and alcohol is an explosive mix, one to be avoided at all costs.

Who is this German and why is he trying to sell me a vacuum?

By now everyone has heard of the newest vacuum cleaner on the market, it is pushed by a Nazi bastard telling us that the damn thing doesn't even use suction. Now I don't trust the Germans, I never have, I am still concerned that they may be plotting to take over the world, even though the have failed several times in the past. The only thing that I have in common with the Germans, is my undying hatred of the French and British (stories for another day). In any matter this German bastard is telling us that he has invented a cleaning machine with no bags, no filters, and no suction- well you son of a bitch I have news for you, its already been invented, its called a carpet sweeper. Go down to your local Denny's and see this revolutionary device in action.

Now I am not a marketing wizard but it seems to me that this guy should be playing off of his Nazi image. Perhaps he should call his vacuum cleaner a PANZER, perhaps he slogan should be something like "Its time for a Blitzkrieg on dirt." His campaign, one that is trying to build an image of quality for machine is suspicious. We all know that the Germans have never produced an item of high quality! The first boat I ever purchased, The Morning Star, was a converted German warship that was abandoned after the German surrender. Unfortunately for myself and my crew, the vessel was plagued with problems, and eventually sank in a dramatic incident that killed my brave first mate Shamus.

I know I am rambling but I do have a point: be wary of Mr. Dyson and his magic cleaning machine. The Germans are crafty, and they use this skill in furtherance of evil..... just like they did in The Big One (WWII). They have tricked us before, we have appeased their odd behaviors in the past. Nothing is more suspicious than a high-quality German vacuum cleaner that doesn't suck. We cannot appease this behavior and put ourselves in a dire situation, as we have in the past. It may be time for the Allies to reunite and do some bombing- first target, the Dyson vacuum cleaner plant.... something fishy is going on there.

Oh and one more thing, if you do bomb Dyson back to the stone age- make sure you drop one for good old Shamus.

A Sad Day

Today I learned of the passing of an old friend, John DeLorean. Back in the early 70's I worked night and day to make DeLorean's goal of an Irish auto plant a reality. While later he may have gone crazy and concocted some ridiculous schemes, I will always remember him as a friend. I will never forget John begging me to become his Vice President at DMC, even though I refused, John never felt offended (he knew the sea was the place I had to be). I will push from my mind the times when John had gone nuts, and begged me to transport coke for him, or when he asked if I could blow up the plant and make it look like the IRA had struck, instead I will remember the good times. To this day one of my prized possessions is the 3rd DeLorean ever produced, John gave it to me shortly after it was made (it has not run since 1988).

Here's to you old friend, godspeed.

-Johnny

Reflections on St. Patrick's Day

Some say everyone is Irish on St. Patrick's day, and I say that the people who declare this are fucking idiots. As a true Irishman I object to the bunch of slobbering fools, who can't hold their booze being included in my proud ancestry; and another thing, who the hell gave these people the authority to make others honorary Irishmen for a day? These are probably the people who honestly believe that the only thing people in Ireland do is sit around and drink green beer. Well let me let you in on a little secret- Irishmen hate green beer, it doesn't taste right and it turns your shit green for days. The reason we drink is to get away from our nagging wives and our tough jobs, something you Americans know nothing about. Picture this, you have to spend 13 hours on the high seas doing repetitive, physical work when you fall overboard and have your leg chopped of by your own boat's propeller, now that's a reason to sit back and drink a few.

I am sick of you American bastards defiling a day that means so much to so many in my homeland. Sure we may not remember who St. Patrick was, or what the hell he did, in fact we may not really give a damn, but we'll all sit back and toast the man.

Here's a little tip for you fuckers that think their Irish on St. Patty's day.... stay away from my bar, or you will find yourself in a world of trouble.

Johnny McBarney 

Charmin Ultra and the Fall of Man

The end is near......

For centuries we have been told that when it comes to toilet paper less is indeed not more. But now with a ridiculous jingle, the assholes at Charmin Ultra are telling us to use less toilet paper. This my friends is wrong, we should not in our society, where all can afford or at least obtain toilet paper, be advocating that people use less of it.

There is in fact an epidemic of people that smell like ass in this world (herein after "stinkers"), and a proper wipe could go a long way to solving this problem. Unfortunately for us, those who must tolerate these stinkers, Charmin and their ultra liberal tree hugging point of view is telling these people to wipe their asses less. I am sure you know where I am going at this point, with less wiping, there will be more people who become stinkers, and a greater buildup of shit on asses of these people will occur. Not only must people like us be forced to live with the stench of these stinkers, but we may have to deal with the disease that breads off the fecal matter that stinkers have failed to wipe up.

It is time for some one to stand up and say "USE MORE TOILET PAPER", "LESS IS NOT MORE" and "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD CLEAN YOUR STINKY ASS". These courageous statements may be the only thing that saves man kind from destroying itself with a campaign to use less toilet paper.