tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40061567196712804272026-10-14T05:57:36.691-05:00Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.comBlogger301125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-58182865519836689332012-11-12T12:24:00.000-06:002012-11-12T12:24:00.182-06:00

You've probably been asking yourself what happened to me. No? Ok. Fair enough. I haven't been posting in a while, because as you may know, I am in hair school. It's basically EXACTLY women's prison. It's underground, I'm surrounded by females, and I don't get great cell service. So, every time I sit down to write a post, it's just me complaining about how terrible school is. Luckily, my friend

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-67268246023176919322012-07-13T09:08:00.000-05:002012-07-13T09:08:55.707-05:00

This isn't a funny post. It isn't sentimental. This is a pure, adulterated (that's worse than unadulterated, right? I mean I've only seen The Ten Commandments a few times, but adultery is bad and that saying should change) rage-filled rant. I'm more mad than the time some twisted, Godless manufacturer shipped products with pop-less bubble wrap. If you want to feel warm and fuzzy and happy

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-54400662067321168472012-06-13T08:18:00.000-05:002012-06-13T10:50:45.261-05:00

Yesterday, I was got my nose waxed!  If you have never done it, you're missing out. It is basically the most amazing thing you can do to your face. You don't have to worry about little hairs peeking out when you're talking to someone cute that you may want to see naked at some point in the future and afterwards you feel like this is how God truly intended you breathe.  Also, you don't

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-66646019415499660282012-05-15T09:12:00.000-05:002012-05-15T09:26:00.182-05:00

These are some of the things I hear on a semi-regular basis: 'Oh, somebody went to the club last night!' 'Did you get bored and doodle on yourself?' 'OMG, do you bathe? That thing has been on your arm for a week!' 'Did you get that in prison!?!?' 'You paid for that???' 'No. Really?' And with great shock (and an unusual amount of rage): 'WHAT THE F**K?!??!' Unfortunately all of these

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-19872982747657707122012-04-18T07:48:00.000-05:002012-04-18T07:48:41.491-05:00

So, I had a first this past Monday: my first car wreck. I was within 100 yards of my apartment building and was hit by a silver Corvette. This offended me on so many levels. Fortunately, it was the other driver’s fault, and he was nice, apologetic, and surprisingly not wearing a single article of Ed Hardy clothing. Contrary to the belief/mostly true reality that most Asians drive like this:

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-71483446923180001492012-04-02T09:00:00.000-05:002012-04-02T09:00:00.059-05:00

Last week I posted about being too hungover to cook Indian food... After three long days of working answering phones and watching other people drink wine at the salon and three 10-hour days of being trapped in women's prison (aka cosmetology school), I decided to spend my Saturday night in. A friend came over and we drank wine, wore Snuggies, ate the world's most legit jelly beans ever

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-46764614658896674232012-03-19T08:54:00.001-05:002012-03-19T09:20:20.710-05:00

If you were hungover and thought cooking Indian food would make you feel better, you would be wrong... 24 hours earlier... Yesterday was one of the most time honored traditions for all: St. Patrick's Day. My friend's and I have titled this "the Happiest Day in Dallas." Because for a few glorious hours, open container laws are thrown out the window and thousands of people flood the sidewalks of

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-9558962498825947082012-03-13T12:11:00.001-05:002012-03-13T12:12:07.712-05:00

People as a thing are getting dumber and dumber by the day. While I worked with a number of douche canoes in my previous career, my new life of hair whipping ponytails and unlocking the secrets of beauty at school, is showing me a new darker side of dumb. The other day during my lunch break I took a quick trip to the Happiest Place on Earth: Sonic. I ordered my usual: A lot of people find /

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-64830170417351533702012-02-28T08:14:00.000-06:002012-02-28T08:14:23.412-06:00

I have an intense and extreme love/hate relationship with one Ina Garten. For starters, I absolutely love everything about her to the point of Biblical coveting of her life. Although I have zero prior experience in a leisurly life in the Hamptons, I feel like I would be awesome at it. The riches and hot gay BFFs aside, I mostly adore her ALL WHITE kitchen. ALL WHITE, I SAY! I would literally

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-84377417547060922392012-02-20T13:41:00.000-06:002012-02-20T13:41:09.853-06:00

Photo via The Bloggess. Profanity neccessary. This picture so appropriately sums up how I've been feeling. Except I'm not baking souffles... I've identified probably 80% of what is bothering me. There is no way around it, and I don't feel much like explaining the why portion of it. This week will simply have just have to come and go, and I'll hopefully be 80% better next week. Maybe

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-38731028015929650852012-01-30T14:11:00.000-06:002012-01-30T14:11:11.539-06:00

So, I'm just two weeks into what shall henceforth be referred to as "Operation: your life used to suck and you weren't doing anything about it but drinking a lot of cheap wine and now you're finally getting your s**t together and working towards a change and still drinking a lot of cheap wine." I was going to name it 'Blue Ivy,' but Beyonce stole that right from under me. I've been at the 

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-88946820266185429822012-01-13T08:54:00.000-06:002012-01-13T08:54:11.419-06:00

This is NOT my normal brand of bitchy, gay, off-handed meth reference blog post. This is real. This is the hardest post I've ever had to write. And this is where I am and where I'm going nowadays. This is me and my mom. I was adopted, and this is one of our first pictures together. Look at that picture. Look at that face. That, my friends, is completely unadulterated, pure joy. This was a

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-82984096765598041702012-01-12T10:59:00.001-06:002012-01-12T11:06:32.440-06:00

I am continually surrounded by so many legitimately beautiful people that I've realized this upper echelon of hotness is my Everest, and I'm forever stuck at base camp trying to get my backpack on. I mean in the grand scheme of the world, I'm usually confident drunk enough to believe that I can be classified as 'attractive.' Going out on a limb, I could be labeled with 'above average

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-4265849212137583702012-01-04T08:27:00.001-06:002012-01-04T08:38:00.809-06:00

First of all, let's just get this out of the way: Picture c/o one of my most bad ass friends. Yeah, the new Timeline is all kinds of awesome it hurts my heart. Wait, that pain might just be from the bar I found in Dallas that has a BACON HAPPY HOUR... But, I'm fairly certain it is from the ultimate neat factor of the new facebook. However, with all the innovations, changes, improvements, etc.

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-73634600509965692902011-12-21T11:36:00.001-06:002011-12-21T12:07:38.957-06:00

Dear Jesus and/or Santa, If you could make sure the coworker who microwaves fish gets eaten by a polar bear or beaten to death with sticks this weekend, I would consider it a personal favor and a Christmas miracle of the greatest kind!  Thanks, John. PS - My second wish would be to meet the person who took this picture and give them a high five. UPDATE: I just changed my mind. It has

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-57299934057797708952011-12-14T10:59:00.001-06:002011-12-14T11:04:42.942-06:00

*This post contains no actual meth. It's just a funny thing my friend says and it got your attention. You tweakers fall for it every time! Remember when you were a kid and you thought you would have to wait an eternity and a half for that moment you got to unwrap your presents and eat off the nice china? Well, most kids don't care about the china, but you have to remember, I was a very, VERY

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-26388412841536697772011-11-28T08:15:00.002-06:002011-11-30T07:49:44.340-06:00

I've had my body completely give up after high amounts of serious partying. Remember this post? This time my mind decided to hold me hostage at 5 AM in the wake of a whirlwind weekend of drinking and food with friends and family. There are no winners here, just two very desperate, tired, bitchy losers. Me: Oh, crap! I have to pee, but it is so cold... I should probably just wet the bed. Yeah,&

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-63343119627611161492011-11-22T10:00:00.000-06:002011-11-22T10:00:01.052-06:00

Thanksgiving is upon us. That's right, despite what almost every retailer in the nation thinks, there are other holidays to celebrate between Labor Day and Christmas. But, that's a rant for another day. Anyway, other than my family's tradition of recreating almost every sappy moment from a sweeps episode of 7th Heaven when we take turns sharing what we're thankful for or my new found

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-79396715201797268372011-11-14T13:47:00.001-06:002011-11-30T07:52:18.335-06:00

I can't stop blogging about music. You all hate me. And, rightfully so. Anyway, if you're still reading. This is me writing yet another post about Kelly Clarkson. A few weeks ago when I was blowing up facebook about how much I loved Kelly, her new album, and how I was such an avid fan of her I was almost certain our menstrual cycles were in sync. A friend then promptly added to the fire by

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-5018994061007256982011-11-09T12:31:00.000-06:002011-11-09T12:31:12.439-06:00

I have been very disappointed lately, on top of the fact that Saturday Night Live has yet to do a Miley Cyrus sketch this season, Madonna and Faith Hill are making their "return" to the music scene. I wish I could say their new songs 'pretty cool', but unfortunately they both need to 'shnock it off!' Let's start with the one who is starved for more attention. With talks of being the star

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-10328895069676807172011-11-03T12:52:00.000-05:002011-11-03T12:52:15.487-05:00

*knock, knock* Death, is that you?! No. It's Pizza Hut. Well it turns out, I'm not dying. But it has become brutally apparent that I am growing up. My life used to be punctuated by semesters, graduations, and those age milestones (driving, voting, tobacco-ing, drinking, etc). Lately, it seems like I am nearing the days where my life will be full of meaningful events like my first prostate

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-21515016357402334312011-10-25T09:13:00.002-05:002011-11-04T18:37:21.108-05:00

If you are related to me, knew me as a small child, or might be a prospective employer (outside of the carnival circuit), you might want to not read this. Seriously. You've been warned. Remember when Halloween was all about putting on a cute, G-rated costume of your favorite Disney character, Saturday morning cartoon, or superhero and walking door to door with a pillowcase to get free

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-59449231348968718232011-10-21T08:54:00.001-05:002011-10-21T13:51:42.314-05:00

This is pretty much a non-post. But, hey, I blogged about reality TV and you still came back. The joke's on you, chump! But seriously, this isn't real at all. It's imaginary and you probably should just come back next week when I have a some hilarious story about drinking, being hungover, yelling at people at the grocery, or when I bake something... Well, if that little disclaimer or YouTube

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-43699706609281006392011-10-17T09:35:00.001-05:002011-10-17T11:21:46.050-05:00

This could possibly be the most disjointed, ADD post I've ever written. It probably could have been multiple posts or scrapped altogether, but it's Monday... I debated on blogging about TV (again) or the Taylor Swift concert I went to a few weeks ago. Just be grateful I did not. Pickled things and I have a complicated, delicious relationship. Whether it is the mildly perverted,

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4006156719671280427.post-28953729207954606222011-10-11T09:56:00.002-05:002011-10-11T13:19:48.082-05:00

I haven't blogged in a while, and unfortunately for you, this one is about TV again. Remember when I was mentally raped a few weeks ago when I was at a birthday party that ended up being a filming of LOGO's new reality show, The A-List: Dallas. No? Well, consider yourself lucky. Anyway, the very first episode aired last night... For shame gays. For. Shame. I was a bottle and a half of wine

Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15476148775698337389noreply@blogger.com8