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 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

SOMEBODY, somewhere, decided to buy into that old adage about "never send a boy to do a man's job".

"Hang on, Marilyn, I'm coming," he cried, with no pun intended. (I hope.)

Okay, here's the real story on the "Sperm Bike":

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/10/28/seattle-sperm-bike_n_1063606.html?ref=weird-news

Love the quote from the guy at the Sperm Bank: "You put a giant sperm on a bike, and you're going to get some attention."

I think that qualifies as the understatement of the day.

Anyway, I'm glad the Seattle Sperm Bank is doing such a fabulous job for their customers; you have to admit though, my version of the story is much funnier.

Love and turkey-basters,

PJTT

copyright 2011 Krissongs, Inc.

The Attack Of The 26 Foot Tall Marilyn Statue

I'm impressed.

According to the report from AP (that's media "insider" talk for the Associated Pull), written by Don Babwin, "Some of those who took pictures of the sculpture called "Forever Marilyn" were surprised when they came around the side and back of the sculpture and saw honest-to-goodness lace panties on the movie icon."

The 26-foot tall sculpture was recently unveiled in the Daley Plaza in downtown Chicago, home also of the infamous "Picasso" statue, as well as the collection of fiberglass, multicolored "cows" from several years ago.

Now I suspect most sculptors would have just made the area underneath her dress "flat", showing nothing.

But give the artist, Seward Johnson, some credit; he went for, and to mind achieved, total realism.

Lace panties, no less. I'm really impressed. So a big "Atta' Boy" to Mr. Johnson, for his wonderful, and totally realistic, depiction of the subway scene with Marilyn Monroe in the movie "The Seven Year Itch", which also starred Tom Ewell. A great movie, and a great scene showing an incredibly beautiful, and amazingly voluptuous young woman, out enjoying a stroll on a summer's evening with a friend. (I have to figure out how to make friends like that.)

And wasn't "The Windy City" the perfect location to imagine a breeze blowing up a young woman's skirt? I should say. ("My kind of town, Cleveland is..."

Thank you, Seward Johnson; you're my kind of guy.

Another thing that impresses the shit out of your Pope Guy is how difficult it is to come up with topics to write about, several times a week. I'd like to crank out a post on the soothing balm of Johnism every day, but there's only so much sin and evil that needs to be addressed in the world. I mean, you people aren't THAT bad, for crissake.

So I really have nothing else to tell you today, other than to be good, and if you can't, don't get caught. And don't call me if you do; with collections down the way they are here at the All John All The Time World Church, there's no more budget for bail money.

You get busted, you're on your own.

One other thing, then I'm off to my weekend activities with the Harley Dog.

I see where Arnold Schwarzenhooven, the ex-governor of CA, is back in the news again: this time it's something other than his divorce square-off with almost ex-wife Maria Shriver. Apparently, "The Sperminator" has been signed to role in a new movie called "The Last Stand", where TS "plays a cop who leaves the LAPD in disgrace and takes a job in a sleepy border town." (FYI, Maria and Arnold, I was very relieved to hear your son is going to be all right after his surfing accident. You two may be total douche-bags, but your kids, well, they're kids, and they're hands-off. I'm glad he's okay.)

Actually, I had heard that some big movie company was thinking about making a modern version of the 1982 "classic" (using the term loosely), "Conan The Barbarian", and would depict TS as an aging, disgruntled ex-Eastern European Communist official, trying to make his way back to Russia and the "good old days" before the USSR collapsed. The tentative title of the new flick was "Conan The Hungarian", but leaders of the former Communist country put a big "nyet" on the project when they were informed of TS's likely affiliation with the movie. Apparently, Hungarian officials didn't want any more to do with TS than Maria does.

(A number of years ago, I was watching a Marlins/Dodgers game, and the Marlins at the time had a left-fielder named Jeff Conine. At one point in the game when Conine came up to bat, Vin Scully, the venerable announcer for the Dodgers, launched into one of his little "personal" asides that he likes so well, and began talking about Conine's scholastic career, including the fact that Jeff had a degree in Library Science.)

(And I thought to myself...

...wait for it...

..."Conine The Librarian"?)

Anyway, it's going to be sunny and in the mid-80's here in the bucolic and totally over-rated San Fernando Valley, so me and the HD are going to wash the Popemobile and then maybe head down to the beach. And of course, my Dodgers are playing this evening, against the Washington Nationals, who beat the Boys In Blue 7-3 last night, once again allowing people from our nation's capitol to screw up our private lives.

Will it never end?

I think Harley and I need to make a "Missionary Trip" to the Windy City to check out the new Marilyn sculpture.

I don't know about HD, but I've never seen lace panties that big, and I don't want to miss the opportunity to say that I had.

Boy, this gives a whole new meaning to the term "Amazon".

Love and REAL movie stars,

PJTT

copyright 2011 Krissongs, Inc.

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.

Bad Habits

Завальцовка, завальцовка, завальцовка Завальцовка, завальцовка, завальцовка Завальцовка, завальцовка, завальцовка Завальцовка, завальцовка, завальцовка Яловка Roiling, свертывать, свертывая Хотя потоки опухнуты Держите их свертывать doggies Яловка Дождь и ветер и погода Ад согнул для кожи Желать мой gal был моей стороной Все вещи I' m missin' Хорошие vittels, lovin' , kissin' Ждите в конце моей езды Двиньте ' em дальше, head' em вверх Головка ' em вверх, move' em дальше Двиньте ' em дальше, head' em вверх Яловка Отрежьте ' em вне, езда ' em внутри Езда ' em внутри, отрезанное ' em вне Звонок ' em вне, езда ' em в яловке Содержание двигая, двигать, двигая Однако they' re осуждая Держите их двигать doggies Яловка Don' попытка t для того чтобы понять ' веревочка em как раз, ход и тавро ' em скоро we' ll жило высоко и широко Мое сердце calculatin' Моя истинная влюбленность будет waitin' Ждите в конце моей езды Двиньте ' em дальше, head' em вверх Головка ' em вверх, move' em дальше Двиньте ' em дальше, head' em вверх Яловка Отрежьте ' em вне, езда ' em внутри Езда ' em внутри, отрезанное ' em вне Звонок ' em вне, езда ' em в яловке Двиньте ' em дальше, head' em вверх Головка ' em вверх, move' em дальше Двиньте ' em дальше, head' em вверх Яловка Отрежьте ' em вне, езда ' em внутри Езда ' em внутри, отрезанное ' em вне Звонок ' em вне, езда ' em в яловке Завальцовка, завальцовка, завальцовка Завальцовка, завальцовка, завальцовка Завальцовка, завальцовка, завальцовка Завальцовка, завальцовка, завальцовка Яловка Яловка.

The above are the lyrics for the theme song of the 1950s TV show, "Rawhide", translated into Russian. I thought it was something you might need. Which, by the way, has nothing to do with the two pictures at the top of the page; I'll get into that in a moment.

. That's "Rawhide" in Russian; I had to draw the characters of the title (<---, back there) in Paint because I couldn't seem to get that part to "copy/paste" like the rest, err, excuse me, I had some problems printing that word after I spent hours painstakingly doing the translation. Anyway, the next time you're sitting around, hoisting a few cold ones and watching Russian language reruns of old '50s TV Westerns, hey, now when "Rawhide" starts, (featuring a VERY young Clint Westwood as Rowdy Yates, a sensitive but tough cowboy who loves Chopin but hates Comanche's. Not the Native American tribe, no, the Jeep-Eagle brand pickup truck that they marketed a few years ago with that name, Comanche. Rowdy thought they were really ugly.) Yeah, sing along if you like. Or if not, then sit there and be quiet so I can hear the show.

Hey, is your Pope looking out for you or what? How many other leaders of MAJOR religions like the All John All The Time World Church would take the time from their busy day to do complicated translations for their flocks to use and cherish? Besides, how many people in the world can say that they can sing the theme song to "Rawhide" in Russian, huh? Yeah, I thought so.

I got some good news just as I was finishing the above translation; my consigliore, the Right Reverend Monsignor Michael Jordan (no, not the one who used to live in North Carolina) called and told me that the Bored Of Elders of the AJATTWC has decided to establish a society of nuns, under the sponsorship of the Church, to assist myself and the Harley Dog with the tremendous task of spreading "the soothing balm of Johnism" to the world. (For those of you who are new followers of the Pope, the "Harley Dog" I mentioned in the previous sentence is my sidekick, roommate and best buddy in the whole world, commonly known as Harley, and that's his smiling face there to the right...no, you doofuses, your other right...geez...--->, there, does that help?)

Anyway, the tentative name for the new society of nuns that will be chartered under the auspices of the AJATTWC will be (remember, this is tentative) "The Popettes".

"The Popettes." It's got a nice ring to it, don't you think?

"PJTT and the Popettes, featuring The Harley Dog, now appearing everywhere. Check your local paper for details."

Okay, "The Popettes" is a little informal for a religious community; you know, I was just trying to liven things up a little. Boy, let's not anyone have any fun around here, okay?

The real (but still tentative) name for the new group of nuns will be...ready?..."The Society Of Our Lady Of The Holy Fundament".

How's that for a mouthful? (You know, I have never had a woman say that to me.)

Although the Human Resources Department (motto: You Hire'em, We'll Fire'em) is still conducting interviews for the position of Head Nun (don't you even think of it, you dirtbags), the general consensus around the AJATTWC office is that the front runner for the position is Sister Fredrika "Gonad" Tutwiler, a lady with an impressive resume and a set of guns that would entitle her to play linebacker in the NFL. The only reason she doesn't tryout is that she thinks football isn't "violent" enough against sinners. (Sister Fredrika, or "'Nad", as she's affectionately known in convent circles, once tried to crash a Miley Cyrus concert, attempting to rush on stage and "snatch the hair from that Whore Of Babylon".

Nice gal; I can hardly wait to work with her.

One of the details that has to be decided on by the Church staff is what the new "uniform", or as it's known in the "business", the "habit", will look like for the new order. We've had a number of samples submitted to us by various purveyors of religious clothing, and I've included two of the more revealing, err, more interesting choices that we've had to consider. (Please see the above pictures; I asked for more samples, but was told by the Church physician, Dr. Doolittle, that I should take two aspirin, spend the evening at Hooters and call him in the morning with a full report.)

Both "habits" seem appropriately religious (yeah, if you attend church at the Playboy Mansion), and both would seem to be religiously appropriate. Myself, I'm leaning towards to one on the left, thinking that it's more demure "sans décolletage", which is Russian for "whatta' ya' mean, we're outta' vodka?". Besides, I'm afraid the white stay-up, thigh-high stockings would be a problem in the jungles of Lower Zimbabwe, if we ever get called to go there, so that other "habit" probably won't work.

The staff here at the AJATTWC is having the same problem deciding between the two uniforms, and there have been arguments, and discussions, and "brain-storming" sessions, and debates and whatever, and they've still not reached a decision.

So here's what I suggested: let our faithful followers, the very spine and bedrock (sounds like the name of one of those TV fitness "plans"; you know the ones, where some semi-well known celebrity, who has suddenly, at the age of 74 and after years of being a slovenly pig, exercised themselves into muscle-bound, speed-freak who now has had an "epiphany" about personal fitness and can't wait to tell you, and sell you) of the AJATTWC, make the decision.

So here you go, readers of the Pope Person and other slightly interested parties, here's your chance to speak out, and cast your vote for which of the above "habits" (and there's a couple of habits I wouldn't hurry to break) will be the new apparel for the Sisters of All John All The Time World Church, The Society Of Our Lady Of The Holy Fundament.

What an awesome responsibility; I shudder at the load that I have placed upon your narrow shoulders.

Harley and I have requested a "private viewing" of models wearing the various candidates for the new habit, not only the ones pictured above, but a number of others as well, secondary choices as it were. Harley and I feel that this situation, the choosing of a "uniform" for one of our representative Church groups, should be approached in an extremely serious manner, as its a matter of "image", and how the Church is viewed by those of you who are not Members, those of you who are still living, slutty, sinful lives without the soothing balm of Johnism. We're both very excited about this oppor...damn, there goes the Popephone...

"...PJTT...Mike, how are you, what's up?...yeah, I'm just working on the announcement now...okay...okay...why not?...come on, we were just having a little fun...geez, where's their sense of humor, the old farts...(large sigh of capitulation here)...all right, no private viewing...but we're still having the contest, right?...okay...yeah...yeah, I'll send it over as soon as I'm finished here...yeah, okay, call me later, hey, Dodgers/Rockies tonight, Kershaw's pitching, we got a sawbuck on this one, don't forget, okay?...yeah, later."

Assholes.

The Bored Of Elders has decided that there will be no "private viewing" for HD and myself; it seems some of the models took exception to our attempts to recreate the Marilyn Monroe "She Gets Her Skirt Blown Up Over The Subway Grating" shot in the movie "The Seven Year Itch" by using air-hoses the guys back in the hangar hooked up for us, and went and complained.

HD and I got our peenies whacked for that one; I don't know, I thought it was pretty funny, and so did Harley apparently. He was racing around all those models like he had the makeup concession at a Lady GaGa concert.

So no private viewing for the Dirt Bag Dog and his Pope.

Okay, so here's what to do; go to an ATM, withdraw as much cash as you're allowed and send it to: Pope Guy, AJA...well, never mind that now. In the Comments section (below), cast your vote. The habit on the left, commonly known as "#1", or the habit on the right, known as, cleverly, "#2".

Number one or number two.

Hell, even Sarah Plain and Loud couldn't screw this one up too much. Hey Sarah, did you miss school the day they taught American History?

Although if Sarah wants to text me some pics of her in her long-johns, I'd love to have them; I'll put them up in my wallet, right next to my pics of Newt Gingrich in a teddy.

Love and convents,

PJTT and the Harley Dog

copyright 2011 Krissongs, Inc.