The Saga of John the Baptist: Parts I III

I started my first blog back in 2001 on the antelopelovefan'com domain. Here is a small sample from the beginning.

Part I

So I was walking out into the driveway to get into my car this morning and who should I see walking down the street but John the Baptist. He was wearing a Reebok jogging suit and dragging a shopping cart full of toasters. I was like “John! What the fuck are doing here? Didn’t they behead you and shit?” He kinda gave me a weird look and then all of his toasters popped up all at once, except instead of shooting out bread, they shot out the Holy Spirit. It was swooping around and swirling and sparkling and I was like “Awesome dude. That totally looks like the scene out of Raiders of the Lost Ark.” John the Baptist just looked at me and shook his head. Then he packed up the Holy Ghost into this thing that looked like a film container except it was 7 feet tall, green and red checks, and made out of cement and he was on his way again. I was like “John! Get back over here and chill for a bit you big old pimp.” but it was no use. He was gone just as quickly as he appear and I thought to myself, “There’s no pleasing some people.”

Part II

So I was driving to work today and they’re doing construction so they’ve got backhoes and dumptrucks and the whole bit. And there was one backhoe in particular who was digging trenches and these were the finest trenches I’ve ever seen. And when I got a little closer I saw that it was none other than John the Baptist at the controls. He was working those controls back and forth like he had gear shifts instead of fingers and an internal combustion engine instead of a heart and lungs. He was digging about 10 trenches a minute and he had St. Paul out in front of the back hoe putting out orange cones to keep from folks from falling in. He looked at me and he said “Listen Son, I’ve been known by more names that I care to recollect.” And he proceeded to rattle off names like John Smith, John Mayfield (aka Jack the Ripper), John Adams, John Denver, Johnny Cash, and more importantly John Binklesworth (aka Hugh Hefner). I was like, “Fucking-A man. You are the most badass mutha fucka I know. You make Samuel L. Jackson in Pulp Fiction look like a little girl with a skinned knee.” And he laughed and laughed and started flinging dirt back and forth again. But when I looked a little closer I saw that it wasn’t dirt he was slinging but the word of God. And it was melting the very road he was supposed to be fixing.

Part III

So I was down in LA trying to get a restraining order against George Lucas who kept calling me trying to get me to read one of his fucking scripts. He’d follow me down the street crying and he’d send me letters signed in blood. I was like “Dude, George. When Episode I comes out on DVD, call me.” and he was like “Read my script or I’ll eat your soul.” and I was like “Whatever.” It was way harsh. But that’s me. I’m just a harsh mother fucker and it’s all thanks to John the Bapist. So I’m down on Crenshaw straight kickin it with a 40 in one hand and my niner in the other when this scraggly little guy comes by wheeling a portable Taco Stand. I took a closer look at this guy, putting my nasal passages to serious risk, and that’s when I realized it was none other than John the Bapist wheeling this cart. I was like “Goddamn John. Your tacos fuckin reek. Are you cooking them out of elephant ass or what?” And he said, “Actually, that’s the Holy Spirit you’re smelling. It may smell harsh but it’ll make you totally ripped.” I didn’t believe a word of it until I saw his biceps which made Popeye look like a starving little old lady. So now I’m totally ripped because for lunch every day I eat 5 of John the Baptist’s Holy Spirit Tacos with a side of the word of the Lord. Hell yeah.