Sorry, Not Sorry!

…is what I would say if this was the ONLY shot I got at the Golden Globes last night. But as you’ll see a bit later, the night got exponentially better.

Uh, hi. It’s me again. Shocked to hear from me so soon after our last conversation? Yeah, there’s gonna be some changes around here. Even though I never make New Year’s resolutions, this year I felt it was paramount to set some goals. (See what I did there? Paramount…Golden Globes…😉😉😉) This year I made a promise to myself that I would do way more Upper Body workouts and shoot way more Nocturnal shots than in years past. You guys didn’t know me in 2021, but back then I put this poster on my wall.

This was supposed to be my battle cry for the new decade. No more sitting around on Saturday nights crying because I can’t get into a club. This poster was supposed to signify an END to all that stay-at-home foolishness. Well sadly enough, in the several years since then, the Gig Economy has absolutely kicked me in the 🍑🍑! Well you guys know, right? I mean, how many times have I come onto this blog crying and depressed about Uber, Lyft, or GrubHub? But you know what? I ain’t crying no more, my Ninja! Right about now, I gotta stand up and give a warm, hearty round of applause for the Johnny!

Congratulations ol’ boy on finally getting one of your Bucket List items crossed off. (Excuse me, another one of your Bucket List items. Can’t forget the Trademark Application!) After decades of watching awards shows on TV and gawking at other people’s high heels on the red carpet, you finally decided to take the plunge and drag your sorry ass on down to Hollywood for one of its awards shows. I mean really, is there any reason NOT to at least try to crash the party? What’s the worst that could happen? You get stuck outside a police barricade for hours and hours freezing your🍑🍑off with about twenty other Lookie-Losers hoping to get a pic of your favorite celebrity, then sitting in traffic on your way home with nothing but a can of Smirnoff and a turkey sandwich from 7-11? Well, I don’t know about you, but that scenario sounds a LOT better than Netflix and Chillin’! 💯 💯

Oh, and to facilitate this little miracle, I actually had to violate one of Johnny’s Rule Number Ones (I’ve got a bunch of Rule Number Ones, if you don’t know). Rule Number One for the Johnny: If you’ve ever got even an ounce of liquor on your breath, if a bottle with the word “proof” on it ever touches your lips, you DON’T DRIVE…at all. Pretty good rule, right? Keeps other people alive and it keeps the Johnny from going to jail and losing his job (My job? What fucking JOB! 🤬🤬) But seriously, you should NEVER drink and drive…which is why I don’t.

Unfortunately, the Rule hasn’t worked out too well for me the last several years. No drinking and driving has led to no going out…at all. It’s been either leave the car at home or leave the alcohol at home. And unfortunately lately, the only one who really ends up staying at home is the Johnny himself.

Well guess what? Last night…for the first time ever…probably because it was the Golden Globes and I was still pissed as hell at GrubHub…I decided to leave the ALCOHOL at home! 🤯🤯🤯 I know, right. Just…earth-shattering. I mean, I’m still gonna drink as much as I want once I get to the venue. But prior to that, all throughout the Pre-Funk process, I’m gonna be stone cold sober. From the time I wake up from my disco nap to the time I put my baby (Paula) in park at the venue.

Now don’t freak out; I still didn’t drink and drive last night. That’s Rule Number One and it’s gonna stay Rule Number One. I’ll just have to put a lot more effort into enforcing the rule, which means I’ll have to linger around the streets of West Hollywood or wherever for hours and hours until I sober up. And thanks to this heavy-ass coat I got from my friend many Christmases ago (see my January 8, 2018 Instagram post) I’ll be well-insulated all throughout the night!

Alright, that’s all I got. Until the Grammys next month, my fellow Lookie-Losers; Love, Peace and 👡👡👡!

Johnny