WELCOME TO THE BLOG OF POPE JOHN THE TALL, LEADER OF THE ALL JOHN ALL THE TIME WORLD CHURCH


******PLEASE NOTE******

(Notice I said please.)

To those of you who are new to "the Pope" and the "AJATTWC", the following various posts are the official communications of yours truly, Pope John The Tall, or as I'm known in many circles, PJTT.

I aspired to the position of Pope of the AJATTWC several years ago, after the Roman Catholics elected Joseph Ratzinger, a German Cardinal, as their Pope; I figured if he could do it, so could I.

Despite what would seem to be a "religious" theme, I try not to play favorites: I'm satirical/irreverent about everything, in an attempt to give my readers a few yucks; that is the goal. If I haven't made you laugh, well, I tried, and I hope I'm given an "A" for the effort. (Or at least a really solid "C".)

I further hope that my faithful readers (all several of them) and any of you who wander in from the cold of the Internet, will derive much solace and spiritual awakening from my timeless prose, and, as I so often refer to it, the "soothing balm of Johnism"; if you don't, how sad for you, because I'm a pretty funny guy. (My daughter tells me, regularly, that I'm "silly"; I suspect that she's right.)

Please note that everything on my blog is meant to be fun, and in no way insulting to anyone, unless of course you're a politician, then you can assume I intended to insult you. (Hey, it goes with the job, guys; if you can't take the heat, then the harder they fall.)

Never mind.

Anyway, welcome and thanks for stopping by; please feel free to peruse to your heart's content (there is a large archive of my past posts, going back several hundred years, in the right-hand column), and please be sure to make a large donation at the door as you leave. (It's tax-deductible.)

Speaking of leaving, as I make my exit, and probably none too soon, here's something from the Book of Excretions, Apollo 13: Dodgers 6...

"Blessed are the lazy, for although they don't accomplish much, they're well rested."

Enjoy. (Or don't, it's still a free country. It is still a free country, isn't it? They haven't changed that as far as I know, have they?)





Sunday, June 19, 2011

A New Policy (Auto Or Home?)

In our last exciting episode, your Pope Guy promised you the post that he should have written yesterday, but for reasons beyond my control, I wasn't able to finish.

So I got up REAL early this morning, on a Sunday no less, and buttoned her up.

Just for you guys.

So here's the Saturday, 6/18, post, being delivered to your door at no extra charge, on Sunday, 6/19.

Oh, and Happy Father's Day to all you Dads and almost Dads; I'm a Dad, and I can tell you its a great gig.


(New post begins here.)

You know you have the right computer golf game when a warning comes on the screen while the game is loading that says: "Make sure you time your shots to avoid the scorpions."

****WARNING****
 THERE SHOULD BE A SEQUE AT THIS JUNCTURE AND IT HAS BEEN OMITTED.
PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Those of you who are regular and faithful followers of your Pope Guy know that there have been number of occasions in the recent past where both myself and Harley have come under intense scrutiny and even sometimes criticism for some of our actions, myself in particular, from the governing body of the All John All The Time World Church, the AJATTWC Bored Of Elders. (I once wrote that phrase and misspelled "Elders" with an "a" at the beginning, making them the Bored Of Trees.)

We were chastised severely for trying to recreate the "over the subway grating" scene with Marilyn Monroe in "The Seven Year Itch", you know the one, where she's out strolling with Tom Ewell and she stops walking over the grating just as the air whooses up from below and up goes that great, white dress she was wearing, amen, chunky peanut butter. So Harley, who by the way is my sidekick, roommate and backup navigator when we're onboard my atomic powered rocket ship, the Royal Unionship Kidding, which we call the "RU Kidding" for short, Harley and I decide that we could get the same effect with an air hose that the guys back in the hangar fixed up for us, to use on the various models of the religious "habits" that we're considering for the nuns of the new AJATTWC-sponsored Sisters Of The Society Of Our Lady Of The Holy Fundament, the day they modeled them for us at our headquarters.

We got our butts in a sling over the Girl Scout cookie fiasco earlier this year, I'm still catching shit for the post I wrote back in March about God's wife, and they didn't like the position I took on same-sex marriage, where I opined that gays ought to be allowed to marry just so they could be as miserable as heteros.

They weren't real pleased with my idea to market an AJATTWC-sponsored medicine to treat erectile dysfunction that I wanted to call *Rip-A-Dick*, either.

So I've decided to adopt a new "covering" mode of action whenever I, or myself in collusion with Harley, get my chops busted by the Bored Of Old Guys over some dumb thing I've said or done, or something which they claim is embarrassing to the AJATTWC.

Okay, follow along with me for a moment here, if you would.

Back in the early Nineties, from '91 through '94, there was a show on television called "Dinosaurs"; it was a Muppets-like show, originally conceived by Jim Henson, the creator of the Muppets, with all the characters being human-like caricatures of dinosaurs. Earl Sinclair was the father, a working class stiff, and there was a Mom and an older brother and a kid sister, all dinosaurs and, best of all, one adorable little guy they called Baby Sinclair.

And whenever Baby did something obnoxious or just something he shouldn't, he had a standard reply when he got reamed for his screw-up...ready?

I love this. "I'm the baby, gotta' love me."

You know, when you think about it in the abstract, he's right. He's the baby, and you have to love him. It's beautiful in it's simplicity.

So I thought, hey, why not? It worked for the little dinosaur kid on TV, maybe I can pull off the same schtick with the Bored.

Hey, I'm the Pope, gotta' love me.

Rating it as a method for diffusing and even out right rejecting criticism and punishment, give it a 1 to 10. Whatta' say, about an 8, maybe?

See, Harley doesn't need this artificial "cuteness" thing; he's already adorable, and he gets away with murder because of it. I'm old and crotchety-looking, so I don't get away with shit.

So from now on, when the Pope Dude steps on the old johnson with the gerbil golf shoes on, I've got it covered.

I'm the Pope, gotta' love me.

Take that, Strudel Boy in Rome. You can use the same approach if you want, although in your instance, I'm pretty sure it won't work, based on your background, but just remember, I thought of it first.

****WARNING****
 THERE SHOULD BE A SEQUE AT THIS JUNCTURE AND IT HAS ALSO BEEN OMITTED.
PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK AGAIN!

I was watching a Dodgers/Marlins game a few weeks ago, when the Marlins third baseman, a young man named Moro, came to the plate to bat, and Vin Scully, the venerable play-by-play announcer for the Dodgers, mentioned that Moro and his wife are the proud parents of quintuplets. I considered that for a moment, and then I thought to myself, I wonder if the hospital where the kids were born gave them a "volume discount"?

Just asking.

Okay, so back to the "I'm the Pope, gotta' love me" thing. You guys think this has a chance of working with the Bored, or for that matter, with anybody who possesses an IQ over that of a doorknob?

The "I'm the Pope, gotta' love me" thing received an "8" for "diffusing/rejecting", now let's rate it's actual chances of working. On the old 1-10 scale, whatta' think, will my new policy be successful?

Lets see, a two, a three, a zero, (asshole), another two, a one, well, the scores aren't looking too good, are they?

Maybe I should rethink the whole "I'm the Pope, gotta' love me" approach.

Naw, it's a great idea.

Just like Sarah Plain And Loud running for President as the Republican nominee in 2012; if you think Barrack Obama can't whip her butt with all the baggage and nonsense she brings to the party, I've got some land in Florida I'd like to talk to you about.

Just because its swampland doesn't mean it can't be reclaimed, and I'm pretty sure that's what Sarah is thinking as well.

I can be reclaimed, she thinks, because hey, I'm the Mama Grizzly, you gotta' love me.

Hey, Sarah, to quote another phrase that also began its popularity back in the '90s...

...not.

Love and loving me, for whatever reason,

PJTT

copyright 2011 Krissongs, Inc.

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