Am I the only one who thinks the story of the peppy cheerleader is completely assinine, or am I just a bitter cynic who’s had a bad month and can’t spell assinine? I mean, I like the Beach Boys song, “Be True to Your School” as much as anybody, but the sight of a cheerleader doing her freaking cheer in a stretcher just struck me as completely stupid. I mean, when they put you in a stretcher, isn’t it because you aren’t supposed to move around b/c you might aggravate your injuries? Is this garbage what’s passing for inspiration these days? Super peppy cheerleaders who risk serious injury to scream “Plop-plop, fizz-fizz, Ooooh, what a relief it is”?

“I’m still a cheerleader — on a stretcher or not,” Yamaoka told the Today show while wearing a neck brace. So I guess if I get in a bad car crash and am being wheeled off on a stretcher, I should ask the paramedics if they know who the last Whig president was, because “I’m still a quizmaster–on a stretcher or not.” Fine, so I’m just a bitter cynic who’s had a bad month and can’t spell assinine.

Jam Master Sean (aka C. Urbanus), Johnny’s brother in arms at the Dive and notorious local rock paper scissors enthusiast, was quoted on the front page of the Wall Street Journal recently. Seems that things are turning a little ugly in the world of RPS.

Alright, it’s off to study my Spanish. Holla at you in the afternoon, knuckleheads! Oh, and there is one more spot available for DeeJaying. The Locust Rendezvous. Send me an email (johnny@johnnygoodtimes.com) if you wanna play your ipod there.
RELATED: Johnny hosts RPS Spectacular.

Hey gang, just asking you to take ten seconds to send a postcard to our president and tell him that he needs to do something to stop the genocide in Sudan. Here’s more info on the one man army (uh, no, not Bush) who is trying to make a change.

Wow! Barry Bonds gets grilled by Sports Illustrated about his steroid use this week. They are taking an excerpt from a forthcoming book called Game of Shadows. Here’s hoping it urges this worthless piece of trash to retire before breaking one of the most hallowed records in all of sports, Hank Aaron’s career home run total. This makes his chase for the record an absolute nightmare for Major League Baseball, if it wasn’t already. They let the steroid thing slide for so long, because home runs brought people back to baseball after the strike, but now it’s really coming back to bite them in the ass.
RELATED: Audio Interview with author’s of explosive book.

Whose Aunt Mimi once said, “The guitar’s all very well, but you’ll never make a living out of it”?

Now, I’m not looking forward to dying. Not at all. But I do hope to die before my good buddy Andy Nolan does, so that he can do my obituary. You see, every time a celebrity (quick reminder, I was voted Philly’s favorite celebrity in 2004, and I do have sort of an on-again, off again thing with Eve) dies, I get an email. Most are brilliant (though some might be construed by stuffy types as kind of, ahem, borderline in terms of taste) but the fact that this guy sends a freaking obit out the next day every time a celeb dies is worthy of acknowledgement. So after the jump, I have listed a bunch of them, with the subject headline in bold and the actual email regular. Enjoy.

Continue reading “The Master of the Obituary” →

Now I know what you’re thinking…Johnny, why haven’t you been keeping us updated on Flavor of Love? Fair enough. I should have been doing a better job. But I kind of see it in fits and starts, although I must say that this show is precisely why the television was invented. It’s got everything you need for great television. Love, tension, Flavor Flav. Well things got a little ugly this past week when Pumkin got voted off. Click here for the ugly, ugly melee which ensued. Thanks to James H. for sending me the link.

Here it is, folks. JGT’s first ever “You Be the DJ” Contest. Here’s how it works. The first seven people to send me an email (if, for some reason, that link doesn’t work for you, you can hit me up at johnny@johnnygoodtimes.com) with the subject headline “I Wanna Be DJ” get to play music between rounds this week (via ipod, mp3 player, or CD player. No turntables, please)). I am going to take seven people, one at each quizzo locale in Philly (Yes, that includes you, Dive!) So in your email you can tell me which place you wanna DJ, but keep in mind, your chances are better if you say “All”. Then keep track of your set list on the night you getz buzy. We will post each contestant’s set lists on the website on friday and vote for which one is best. Whoever wins gets a $40 gift certificate to the Devil’s Alley.

Yo homies. I got a new contest in the works. I’m still working out the deal for a prize, but I should have one by later this afternoon, so check back this evening, because only the first people to sign up will be the ones to get to participate in this contest, which will take place this week. Wow, that was a long sentence. It’s going to be ill. In the meantime,you have to see these Volkswagen commercials (and you have to watch all three, they get funnier as you go). I saw them during the Sixers game yesterday (why in the hell was Kyle Korver out there at the end ON DEFENSE?????) These are some of the best commercials I’ve seen in a long time. I totally want a VW now.

Yeah, so Reese Witherspoon won last night and she deserved it just on her hotness in that movie alone although her acting was really great as well. But it seems that the Oscar’s jewel has a little skeleton in her closet. This paparazzi dude named Todd Wallace harassed Reese and her children at Disneyland last year. Five months later he’s found in his apartment-dead. The point I’m making here? Simple. Do not f*** with Reese Witherspoon.