All the trivial bullshit, the faux hardasses who can barely handle a paper cut, let alone punch to face.
I've been my own worst enemy for ninety percent of my life.
Apparently, my subconscious has been hanging with my detractors.
That no good backstabbing prick.
I don't hate people; I just prefer them to hold their breath in my presence until they change colors.
I'm always a tad bit blue myself.
I heard the rumors, I could just frankly give a shit less that, and I always did hate drinking alone.
I'd hold my breath, but death truly interrupts my cocktails.
I never let a good drink go to waste.
Gossip is great for old ladies and weasels minding the hen house.
I only mind my own business. I suggest if you want to remain topside of the tundra, you best mind your own.
Toodles.
JPR is an indoor parasailing instructor. He also teaches creative writing in the summers at Chernobyl; he is currently training for the Olympics as he is captain of the US drinking team, where he hopes to once again stomp a mudhole in those communist bastard Canadians again.
He is currently accepting submissions for his new mag, the Go Fuck Yourself Review.
Dedicated to asshole writers who throw temper tantrums after being rejected, which is weird because I would think after remaining virgins into their late thirties, they would be used to it by now.
Remember to include your address and which day you would prefer to depart this earth.
John resides in his personal vineyard upon Mt. Doom somewhere in North Carolina.
He is preparing to tour Norway in support of his newest collection, the Donner Party coloring book, which has already gone platinum.
He is allergic to poets and oxygen. He is also an immortal who sleeps in a coffin and is a 100000-year-old demon.
He once drank water; it damn near killed him.
Your tits look lovely today, sir.
He has mental health issues and possibly brain damage. You are probably not shocked to learn this.
He is listed in the Guinness Book as the greatest bio-writer in history.
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