There's Just No Accounting For Taste

Wow, the time sure flies by when you're having fun, fun in this case being defined as the absence of root-canal work.

Today, January 18th, 2014, is the third anniversary of the inception of the blog of yours truly, Pope John The Tall of the All John All The Time World Church; that's right, oh dedicated followers and lovers of sports, three years ago today, I began my quest to bring "the soothing balm of Johnism" to the world masses, by posting my deathless prose and timeless messages of hope and frivolity online, for all to see and appreciate. Over 10,000 (TEN THOUSAND AND TWELVE, to be precise, as of this morning) page-views later, I'm still here, banging away.

So far so good.

Throughout the past three years, there have been flights of fantasy on my atomic-powered rocket ship, the Royal Unionship Kidding, or the RU Kidding for short, along with my faithful companion and official canine of the Pope, the Harley Dog, to the ends of the earth and the heavens as we know them, pitched battles to bring "Johnism" to the teeming hordes, all sorts of administrative boondoggles to contend with as the leader of a major religion, issues brought to light to hopefully help my loyal followers understand how to cope with an ever-changing world and in general, a lot of rank silliness.

There have been nun's habits to select, 26-foot statues of Marilyn Monroe, giant fish, aliens by the bucketful, great looking cars that I can't afford, ghost stories, stories about the best team in baseball, the Los Angeles Dodgers, upside-down tomato plants, intestinal vegetation, an assistant to Harley named Tucker Dog, a personal email from a rock icon, Girl Scout cookies, statues of Harry Carey being defaced, contests, a rock band named the Flaming Iguanas, jokes about three-legged pigs, news bulletins from the AJATTWC, a woman with a bra size of 102ZZZ, komodo dragons, politics and politicians and all kinds of other foolishness.

And throughout it all, I have remained your cheerful, lovable Popemeister, always ready to fly off (figuratively), at a moment's notice, to exotic lands and far-flung planets to spread a little humor (sometimes very little), and hopefully bring a smile to your face and take your mind off your worries for a few moments.

See, I'm not such a bad guy; hell, I'm not even near as bad as my ex-wife makes me out to be.

So I thought that, just for yucks, to kind of, you know, celebrate the occasion, I would come up with a "Hall Of Fame" of some of my better posts, better meaning mostly coherent and in some small way, humorous. At least I think they are. Of the 174 essays I've posted over these past three years, these are the ones that I personally have enjoyed the most. (Actually, I've written/posted more than that; I've deleted a few stinkers.)

So in no particular order, and by no means inclusive of all my great messages on the subject of adopting "Johnism" into your lives, I give you the Pope John The Tall "Greatest Hits".

Seldom have so many sunk so low for comedy.

And remember, blessed are the lazy, for while they accomplish little, they're well rested.

Enjoy. And please feel free to peruse the entire catalog of my work; 174 forays into doofusness.

Love and oldies,

PJTT

copyright 2014 Krissongs Inc.

THE GREATEST HITS OF PJTT

***At Least He's Not Dating An Alien From The Planet Noloc***

http://popejohnthetall.blogspot.com/2011/01/at-least-hes-not-dating-alien-from.html 

***On Being A Cub's Fan And Not Understanding Vaginas***

http://popejohnthetall.blogspot.com/2011/02/on-being-cubs-fan-and-not-understanding.html 

***The Writing Of Notes And The Hitting Of Gerbils***

http://popejohnthetall.blogspot.com/2011/02/writing-of-notes-and-hitting-of-gerbils.html 

***Living Alone, Talking To Yourself And Whale Weinies***

http://popejohnthetall.blogspot.com/2011/04/living-alone-talking-to-yourself-and.html 

***God Of Wind***

http://popejohnthetall.blogspot.com/2011/05/god-of-wind.html 

***Sperm Bank Announces New Policy: Home Delivery (Just Like Dominos, Guaranteed Hot)***

http://popejohnthetall.blogspot.com/2011/10/sperm-bank-announces-new-policy-home.html 

***加倍努力，芝加哥熊 (That's Chinese For The Greatest Team Ever)***

http://popejohnthetall.blogspot.com/2011/11/thats-chinese-for-greatest-team-ever.html 

***...And From The Totally Unintentional Irony Department...***

http://popejohnthetall.blogspot.com/2012/07/and-from-totally-unintentional-irony.html 

***The More Things Change, The More They Stay The Same***

http://popejohnthetall.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-more-things-change-more-they-stay.html 

***You Are Still My Perfection***

http://popejohnthetall.blogspot.com/2013/01/you-are-still-my-perfection.html 

***Maybe It Was Caspar's Older Sister***

http://popejohnthetall.blogspot.com/2014/01/normal-0-happy-new-year-one-and-all.html 

***Just For The Halibut***

http://popejohnthetall.blogspot.com/2014/01/just-for-halibut.html 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Missionary Position

Now and again, as the Pope Guy and leader of a major religion, such as the All John All The Time World Church, it becomes necessary to head out and do some missionary work, so, later this afternoon, Harley and me (poor English but a nice referent to the movie "Marley And Me", where the Harley Dog's part, "Marley", Harley Dog being the offical canine of the Popester, is played by a mischievous Yellow Labrador Retriever named, cleverly, Marley, whereas HD is a Golden Retriever and much cuter, and the part of "Me" is played by Jennifer Aniston and, boy, talk about miscasting, because I'm WAY taller than Jen, amongst other things) are headed off in the Royal Unionship Kidding, or RU Kidding for short, to explore uncharted territories and bring the Gospel of "Johnism" to any pagan cultures we may encounter in the wilds of...

...Naples FL.

Now let me provide those of you who are not followers of the Pope and the AJATTWC a little background information: the RU Kidding is the official (as in "Wally's Worms and Wigglers: The 'Official' Provider Of Bait And Tackle To The NBA") atomic powered rocket ship of the Pope (that would be me), and is an interplanetary cruiser capable of speeds in excess of the Speed of Aroma. HD and I take the Kidding all over the place, to other worlds in our Galaxy and, occasionally, on short hops like the trip we're taking this afternoon to Naples. (For example, we recently took the Kidding to the planet Xanthous for a conference of religious bigwigs, which I describe in my post of 2/22/11; Xanthous is 2.69 gazillion parsecs from Earth, which is WAY farther than I can hit a gerbil off my balcony with a seven-iron.) Given the close proximity of Naples to LA (pronounced LAH), where the headquarters of the AJATTWC is located, as compared to say, the planet Exador, which is in South America...wait, that's "Ecuador", sorry...at the Speed of Aroma, we can get there in about 27 nanoseconds, or slightly less time than it would take for Rosie O'Donnell to scarf down an entire box of Eskimo Pies.

Earlier this week I directed my staff to do some research on where a missionary trip to introduce folks to "Johnism" would seem to be most needed, and most effective, and after much scrutiny of whatever facts and information they scrutinized to arrive at their recommendation, they decided on Naples FL. Now, pray tell, oh Pope Person, why Naples FL, you may ask, and your curiosity would coincide with mine, because that's the first question I asked. After they explained, it made all the sense in the world to me.

Their research found that, according to NBCMiami.com, a young woman named Hersha Howard from Naples was recently arrested and charged with aggravated battery and aggravated assault in a brutal attack of her roommate over the unauthorized consumption of a box of Girl Scout cookies, specifically Thin Mints. As all connoisseurs of Girl Scout cookies are certainly aware, the Samoas and some of the other flavors, as opposed to Thin Mints, are definitely not worth giving a roommate a good beating over. And given her apparent proclivity for chocolate, Ms. Howard's first name would seem to be a harbinger of her "addiction".

According to the Collier County Sheriff's Department, the altercation between Ms. Howard and her roommate, who was not identified, was instigated by Ms. Howard when Howard discovered that the roommate had given Howard's children the box of Thin Mints as a snack, unaware that Howard had forbidden the children to have them. Apparently this was an offense so grievous and of such monumental proportions as to cause Howard to awake the roommate from a sound sleep in the middle of the night, make the accusation of wrongdoing and then begin to beat the roommate, even after said roommate offered to pay Howard $10, as compensation for the now eaten box of Thin Mints. The roommate was able to escape Howard's onslaught and run from their apartment, at which time Howard chased her into the front yard of the building and continued her attack using, according to the police report, "a sign". (Pisces, possibly?) Police were summoned by neighbors, and upon arrival, arrested Howard on the above charges.

When interviewed by Sheriff's deputies, the roommate commented that she was very glad that the cookies in question hadn't been any other flavor, because she was convinced that Ms. Howard would have killed her over the Thanks-A-Lot. (On those infrequent occasions when your Pope has suffered from the horror of "reefer madness", I can personally attest to having the urge to kill for a Girl Scout Thanks-A-Lot cookie, or any other kind for that matter. Or a whole box of them.)

After reviewing this episode, my staff determined that if there was any place in the Galaxy that was in desperate need of the soothing balm of Johnism, it was Naples FL, given the circumstances of the above story. Which is why HD and I are headed there later today to begin our missionary work. We were going to leave earlier, but were delayed when the little girl from down the street, the one wearing the green uniform and beret, brought me the cookie order I placed with her several weeks ago; I'm not going anywhere until I have a handful of Thin Mints and a big glass of milk.

I also informed the Harley Dog that if I caught him scarfing down any of my cookies, I'd beat him like a rented mule. The threat, however, proved unnecessary when I discovered that the young lady had also brought Harley HIS order, which I hadn't known he had given her, of several boxes of Thanks-A-Lot cookies. When I attempted to remove the TAL's from him to put them away so we could leave for Naples, the ungrateful mutt growled at me and led me to believe that if I cared to remove his cookies, I did so at the risk of losing an extremity.

He's in the kitchen as I'm writing this, trying to pour himself a glass of milk, which of course he can't do, not being the possessor of opposable thumbs.

And since he growled at me, I refuse to help him.

I figure my chance will come later tonight; he has to go to sleep sometime.

Love and pastries,

PJTT

copyright 2011 Krissongs, Inc.