"I've known John for a really long time...

When we were kids we'd hit the strip clubs and bitch about how it used to be in the good ole days.

I guess we missed middle school.

But nowadays, John serves a special place for all his con friends...

He's the drunk bastard guarding the sound system at 3 am.

I'd say he's buying us off with all this alchohol he serves,
but his inablity to make a palatable drink is notorious...

and nobody... NOBODY really likes a guy who hands them bad drinks.

Still, he guards the booze and as long as you make your own drinks he seems like an ok guy.

And John couldn't be replaced though... could he? could he?

Only by the bastard love child of Harvey Pekar and Rainman.

It takes a special kind of man to be anal retentive about his self-loathing.

I once saw him rocking in a corner at M.O.C. 13 mumbling,
"Five minutes to mental breakdown... Five minutes to mental breakdown..."

He's even got his porn cross-refrenced and bulleted.

I hear he's got his old cum-rags cardboard backed and stored in Mylar.

You may laugh... but I've actually been to his closet... I mean bedroom.

I'm still confused how a pervert of such magnitude could share a house with his parents.
or maybe that should be expected.

But putting expectations on a man like John is going a bit far.

There's only one thing that one can logically expect from a man like John...

a very insistant libido and the complete inability to close the deal.

He USED to get lucky, so I can't really take any digs at his sexual capacity...

I left that up to Dawn. Goodnight John... It's good to have you around...