Johnny, whose co-workers call him Bobby Boucher, takes his charisma to the bank, baby:
Bidness, bidness, bidness. I sold a Tribeca today to one of the principals of a European solar energy firm expanding into the US. It’s my first bidness to bidness, uh, bidness. I let him Christian me down as far as he wanted to on the price. I think my commission per se was a hundred twenty five dollars. However, my client, being European, didn’t know that in Santa Fe you drive an Outback or you drive a Forester, unless you drive an Outback or perhaps a Forester. You don’t under any circumstances drive a Tribeca. That in mind, management placed a bonus on every one of those bad boys. One thousand dollars cash to The Waterboy. Because that’s what I do.
Johnny and I have known one another since the summer of 1977, when when I was fourteen and we were both in love with him. For those of you just joining Poor Impulse Control: Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, and possibly the most interesting Johnny. Here’s the one that brought us hate mail in 2005: Johnny. Yesterday:
After what, a year, finally the gigs are coming out of the woodwork. I play with an old-timey country trio on Sunday night, which with me I guess would be a quatro, then I have to get to work learning two albums’ worth of tunes for some gigs with an accordion player who sings in English and French about the glories of Paris and the joys of homosexual love. He’s putting the gay in gay Paree, and yes, that is one of his song titles.
Section 1. After one year from the ratification of this article the manufacture, sale, or transportation of intoxicating liquors within, the importation thereof into, or the exportation thereof from the United States and all territory subject to the jurisdiction thereof for beverage purposes is hereby prohibited.
Section 2. The Congress and the several states shall have concurrent power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation.
Section 3. This article shall be inoperative unless it shall have been ratified as an amendment to the Constitution by the legislatures of the several states, as provided in the Constitution, within seven years from the date of the submission hereof to the states by the Congress.
I’ll drink to that! And speaking of time-wasting:
A Cool, Dry Place is a sappy little piece of trash starring Vince Vaughn. Both of our minds were so destroyed by commerce that we sat last night and watched it straight through without even groaning. Remember in Beavis and Butthead, when they would flash back to B&B’s aghast faces in the middle of some horrifying video clip? You get the picture. If Vince wants to sue somebody, he should sue the agent who convinced him to take this awful role. I hope he at least fucked the luscious little piece of cornfed cheesecake who played his romantic interest. That would help even the score.
We scoped chicks together up and down the East Coast, and sometimes we scoped boys. It depended on who and what we were doing that season. Judging by IMDB, and without reading more than a few words about Vince was and wasn’t doing, I guess the cornfed cheesecake Johnny’s referring to is Monica Potter. I bet she’d appreciate our Constitutional spotlight dance.
The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of sex.
Congress shall have power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation.
I’m just curious. Maybe someone knows this: why do some amendments have these little post-its tacked on, hinting Congress is IT in this game of tag?