Thursday was a big day for Mr. Goodtimes, as he visited the Mayan ruins of Tulum and Coba. But headlines were made before he departed, as he announced at an impromptu press conference in his hotel room (attended by no one) that he was giving up on Mexican women. While Johnny refused to announce any reasons behind this decision, most believed it was a decision made out of sheer frustration, as it seemed that most Mexican cuties weren’t real interested in a gringo with a wealth of useless trivia knowledge. While Johnny did concede that he hadn’t been having a lot of luck with the Mexican ladies, he refused to blame himself, instead pointing the finger at a number of other factors, including the language barrier, Hernan Cortes, and Vicente Fox. At the ruins, he climbed to the top of a 12 story pyramid at Coba, and in a sheer display of savagery, threw a family of four off the top.

After overdosing on tequila on Sunday, Johnny was rescued by a sea lion, who gave him life saving CPR. The sea lion, named Daisy, saw the prone Goodtimes on the side of the street in Mexico, and immediately rushed to his aid. Critics were skeptical. “Come on,” said Juan Carlos Tortilla. “We all know that Goodtimes has had absolutely no success hooking up with Mexican girls since he got here. So when he saw this sea lion walking down the street, he realized it was probably his best chance of getting a kiss while on vacation.” Johnny responded, “That’s entirely probably not true.”

In other news: Two days until showtime. There is a big cruise coming here on Wednesday and there’s going to be a packed house. So they want to have the new sea lion show done by then. That means I will need to have written the script and the trainers will have to have memorized their lines in 8 days. I really don’t know if it is possible, but I guess we’re going to try. Also, these 2 for 1 marguarita deals rule.

It?s been hard to find anything to complain about here, but you all know me. I?ll find something. And I?m not even kidding about the pizza. But the Mexican food is great. The staff at the facility is amazing. They do like a 20 minute sea lion show, and my rewrite is pretty damn funny, if I do say so myself.

Now I know what you?re all thinking. You?re thinking that I?m spending my time taking advantage of the free chips and salsa at the local cantinas, getting really drunk every night, and getting shot down by beautiful women. But that?s simply not true. Most of the women that shoot me down aren?t even that attractive. Speaking of ugly, Tuesday night sure was. I went out with some of the guys I work with, and grabbed some tacos. I also learned that beer is supposed to be drunk with salt, so I?ve been doing that lately. Because I?m a local. Now as you all know, drinking tequila makes you smarter. So that?s why I found myself climbing a narrow stairwell to the top of the clock tower in the center of town at about one o?clock in the morning (please don?t tell my mom). A policeman apparently saw me and my buddy climb out the door When he asked what we were doing, my friend answered, ?We went in the door on the side of the clock tower because we thought it was a bathroom.” The cop seemed satisfied with that answer, so I didn?t have to bust out a five spot this time. Interesting fact about the cops in Mexico: They have to buy their own guns, so a lot of them have nines and M-16s.

Most of the Americans here are obnoxious toolbags from places like Texas and Florida who wear flourescent pink tank tops and t-shirts which say things like, “I?m shy, but I have a big ****.” So I spend almost all my time hanging out with the Mexicans and Mayans from work who are all extremely kool. Well, I gotta catch the bus home, but I?ll write again soon.

It was supposed to be a simple ride home. Well, not home of course, but my friend Renato’s house. My buddy Chris was driving me there after he and I had spent an hour watching high school kids on spring break act like idiots at Senor Frogs, and I was asking him about the Mexican police. “I`ve never had a problem with the police,” he said, turning into the driveway of Renato’s house, “But Renato told me that if you run into them, you just have to apy them off.” At that moment, I kid you not, police lights came on. A cop pulled up to Chris and began speaking in Spanish. When Chris and I began staring at him blankly, he realized that we didn’t speak it, so he began screaming in heavily accented English, “You are going the wrong way!” Chris answered, “But we`re in a parking lot.” The cop shot back, “Do you want to go to the police station? Do you want to go to the police station?” Chris answered, “No sir, not at all.” He quickly reached for his wallet and grabbed a $5 bill. “Here you go.” The officer grinned. “Thank you,” he said, and drove off. Justice had been served cold-Mexican style. I would write a lot more, but the computer here at my hotel is extremely frustrating to use, because a bunch of the symbols on the keyboard have been smudged off, and the punctuation marks are not where they should be. Anyway, I am currently not in Cancun, but on the island of Cozumel, and I`m rewriting the script for the sea lion show. Tonight, I will be joining some of my friends for beers and tacos. I will write again soon. Take care-Johnny

The Pope was shocked earlier today when he prepared to climb into the popemobile for a late afternoon cruise-only to discover that it had been towed! Apparently, he had left the 1998 Land Rover with the bulletproof glass in the back in a 2 hour parking space, and did not return for almost 2 hours and 45 minutes.

Pope spokesman Marco “Booger” Constantine was not pleased. “Come on, I could see towing the popemobile if he had blocked a driveway or something, but this is ridiculous. I mean the man relays messages from God to billions of people, and he can’t get a little leeway from the parking commission?”

“Absolutely not,” said Vatican City Parking Commission Chairman Michelangelo “Dusty” Ravioli. “To be honest with you, we’re a little sick of the Pope’s holier than-though-attitude when it comes to parking privileges. Did you know that he owes over $2,000 dollars in fines? Who does he think he is, Angel Ortiz?”

Constantine reported that the Pope would have no choice but to cruise Vatican City in his 1989 Ford Festiva L. “It’s not the best thing going, but it does get great gas mileage as well as FM radio. The front end has a little dent from where we had an incident at the post office a few years back, but other than that she’s in pretty decent shape.”

The Pope declined an offer from Ford to do a radio ad for the Festiva.

Johnny will be appearing at the following locale tonight:
Good Dog 224 South 15th Street 8:00 p.m.

After the devastating losses of three consecutive NFC title games, Philadelphians can finally raise their heads up high again-We’re #1! We’re the ugliest people in America! Nobody, and I mean nobody, is any uglier than we are! Well, I mean you guys are. Johnny was voted by the same publication to be “sexiest quizzo host in america” (have you seen the new moustache?) We also tend to be extremely unfriendly. Well, just for that, the magazine who did this stupid survey can go f*** itself. And as far as most stylish goes, we finished near the bottom their, too. Well, I feel like I dropped the ball on that one. As Philly’s style ambassador, I feel like my winter collection was a little weak. I promise to step it up in the spring time. (P.S. The above photo captures the best of both worlds-the ugly, unfriendly jerks who kicked me out of a certain “historic” bar on New Years Day. Did you really think I was going to let that die? Did you?)

Just to let everyone know, all results and announcements will be up on the website on Thursday, including announcements of his upcoming comedy show and new quizzo starting soon! Also, be sure to contact me about the party if you haven’t already so I can put you on the list (free entrance and drinks if you are on the list.)

Hey gang, just letting you know I’ll be having a “Playa Appreciation Party” for everyone who plays quizzo-and you and any friends you want to bring are all invited! Here’s the situation: The party will be held Saturday, March 6th. Admission is free and there is an open bar (free booze) from 10-12. The party will be held at Tribecca, which is located at the corner of Richmond and Cumberland Streets (map below). Please e-mail me ASAP, and leave me the names of you and any friends you have that would like to come. I have 125 openings, so it is first come, first serve. Just Thanks, and I hope to see you all there!

I felt like an astronaut in the 1960’s, the time ticking down until I was to rise into the great unknown. But while they were going to be rising into the infinite expanse of space, I was to be going up into the body of an enormous wooden elephant, thus making this one of the worst analogies ever.
Being a hustler myself, I can certainly appreciate the entrepreneurial vision of James Vincent de Paul Lafferty, Jr. Owning a number of lots in Margate, N.J., he realized that the best way to get people to buy these undeveloped parcels of land was to negotiate with them inside a giant elephant. So in 1881, he had Lucy constructed for the unheard of sum of $25,000. He would take prospective buyers onto the elephants back, so they could look around and figure out which lot they wanted to buy.
Our tour guide, a teenager named Heather, led us up the remarkably steep staircase located inside one of Lucy’s legs. At the bottom of the stairs was the old ticket booth, where people 100 years ago had payed ten cents to go into Lucy. Over the previous century, ticket prices had soared with inflation, and we had to pay the unheard of sum of $4.00! But once inside the exquisite beast, we realized that it had been money well spent. A beautiful wooden floor, a skylight, and the original bathtub(used when a physician lived here in 1902) highlighted the belly of the beast.
Other elephants were built in the 1880’s (the heyday of enormous elephant buildings), one in the middle of a giant marsh in Cape May, which somehow didn’t make it (you’d think a giant elephant out in the middle of the marsh would be a big money bonanza), and a colossus (122 ft tall!) on New York’s Coney Island, which caught fire and fell to the ground. Lucy certainly had her share of close calls. Lafferty sold the creature in 1887, and in 1903 it was opened as a tavern. In 1904, some drunken jackass knocked over a oil lantern and nearly sent the beast down, to borrow a native New Jerseyite’s term, “In a Blaze of Glory.”
Speaking of drunken jackasses, I had spent the previous three nights getting in a bar brawl at a comedy show in northeast Philly, flirting with older women and hanging out at the “Dizzy Dolphin”with a member of Huey Lewis and the News, and losing money and eating bad food in A.C. So I was refreshed by the kool ocean breeze after climbing onto the howdah, or observatory, on Lucy’s back. Heather informed us that the 65 foot tall elephant had been moved from down the street in 1970, when that property had been sold. There had been a media frenzy, and power and telephone lines were dropped to make way for the beast.
Alas, all good things must end, and it was time to make our way down the dangerous stairs one last time. A tangible feeling of history overwhelmed me, as I thought of the hundrds of people who had certainly tumbled down these very same steps over the years.
It was time to head back to Philly, but first we stop and ate at a little Colombian restaurant down the street from Lucy. I don’t know what the astronauts ate when they returned from space, but I doubt their restaurant had a waitress who spoke almost no English and was as cute as ours.