How to tell if you’re wearing pants

I’ve compiled this handy list of clues to tell if you have stepped out of the house in only your boxers.

How to tell if you’re wearing pants

1. You look down and notice your pants are flesh colored and covered in hair. That’s a good sign that you’re actually looking at your bare legs.
2. You notice your legs are getting colder than usual. Lack of pants is a common cause of cold legs.
3. You walk through a thorn bush and your pants don’t get snagged. If you’re not wearing pants, they can’t get snagged.
4. People look at you oddly. While not always a sign of no pants, it’s always good to check and see if that’s whats causing the looks.
5. Someone walks up to you and says, “Dude, you have no pants!”

I hope this list will aid you in determining your pants-state.

Strange Dream

I had the strangest dream last night.

First, I met a snail.

He said he was a magical snail, but I didn’t believe him. He looked more like a freaky dude with a balloon for a head. “Come to me Car,” he said, as if knowing my name would make me trust a talking snail. So, I told him to shove it and left him slowly trying to catch up to me.

Then I met a woman. Well, I met a woman’s head. That hung in the sky and had hair that grew into mountains and a freaky snake boy.

I couldn’t tell if she was supposed to be a representation of my mother or just all the spicy chicken wings I had last night, but I didn’t want to find out, especially not with the freaky eye floating next to her. She didn’t even say anything. She just floated there with her crazy hair and smiled serenely.

Well, I thought this dream couldn’t get any weirder, but then I met… well, whatever it was.

 

Creepy faces made by a bird puking out a string and one of the faces puking out what made the bird. I mean, my dreams don’t always make sense, but these were strange, even for me. The faces started singing about the stuffed bear I had when I was five and the bird asked me for a smoke. Well, I answered by waking the hell up.

So that ends the retelling of my freaking dream. Maybe next time it’ll have killer robots.

I lost my mind today

I lost my mind today. It could be anywhere, but I’m at a loss. Without my mind, I can’t use my mind to find my mind. So, I’ll just search around and chronicle my efforts here as I go.

Did I have it when I woke up? I’m pretty sure I did, but I’ll check my bed anyway.

Nope, no mind there, just what’s left of my memory from last night’s bender. I’m trying to ask it where my mind could have gone to, but all it wants to talk about was how I managed to eat twelve green olives in one gulp.

Okay, moving on.

My mind might be hiding in my closet. I may have scared it with all the brain cell killing last night. Well, here goes…

Nah, just some skeletons. I’d ask them about my mind, but they’re always so secretive and never tell me anything. I’ll just leave them be for now and deal with them whenever procrastination marks it on my calender.

Let’s see. My mind could be anywhere. If I was a mind, where would I be? That’s easy! I’d want to hang out with my collection of toys from my childhood! That has to be where my mind is!

Crap, wrong again. There’s only my inner child, pouting because I don’t need him, since I’m pretty much a giant child without his help. I feel sorry for the lad, but I don’t have time to cheer him up. I gotta find my mind!

Wait, how could I have been so stupid! Oh yeah, because I misplaced my mind… Well, anyway, I just remembered that I installed one of those whistling key ring things in my mind, in case I ever lost it. Actually, it’s a song stuck in my head, but it works the same way. I’ll just sing a few bars and follow the sound of my mind singing back.

“Oh, give me a home, where the buffalo roam,”

-And the deer and the antelope play-

There it is! Now all I have to do is follow the song stuck in my mind!

“Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,”

-And the skies are not cloudy all daaaaaaaaay-

There it is! My mind was hiding in an old psychology textbook of my fiance, Candy. Awww, how cute! It’s curled up on a chapter on cognition. It seems so tuckered out. I think I’m going to let it rest a little bit by watching some professional wrestling.

 

How to have a cow fetus tea party

Sometimes it’s nice unwind after a tough day. And I’ve found one of the best ways is with my collection of preserved cow fetuses. I know having a tea party sounds a little girly, but it’s not. The British have high tea all the time and no one ever calls them girly.

Well, anyway, here are the instructions for a wonderful cow fetus tea party.

 

What you’ll need:

1. Cow fetuses or cow fetus equivalents. An equivalent can be another animal fetus or even a stuffed animal in a water filled jar.
2. A tea set, preferably one with a nice floral design, to honor your bovine buddies’ pastoral habitat. You can also use a child’s plastic tea set if you feel like a less formal atmosphere. Make sure to have a platter and plates as well.
3. A card table or kitchen table and enough chairs to hold you and your cow fetuses or equivalents.
4. A sheet or table cloth, preferably cow patterned. You can make your own cow pattern with a white sheet and black magic marker.
5. Tea, or coffee if you prefer. You can also use imaginary tea.
6. Cookies, crumpets and assorted pastries, plus those little finger sandwiches that look like they’re made for elves. You can also use imaginary food.

 

Instructions:

Brew tea or coffee, prepare food and set aside. Then place cloth on table, set with tea set and plates. Arrange chairs and set cow fetuses or equivalents in chairs, making sure their faces are turned towards the table. Place food on platter and set in the middle of the table, along with teapot. Serve tea and place food on plates, or pretend to if you are using imaginary items. Sit down and enjoy, while sipping from your cup and making your bovine buddies respond in squeaky cow fetus voices.

There. Now you too can enjoy the pleasures of tea and cow fetuses scintillating conversation with preserved cow fetuses.

 

 

I went as myself on Halloween – Everyone thought I was wearing a costume

I decided to go as myself on Halloween. Here is a photo of me heading off to a Halloween party as myself:

It was a little chilly, so I wore my shag carpet shirt and bunny slippers. I took my favorite cow fetus Bessie along with her new purple dyed hair. It was a fun Halloween and the party lasted for hours, even though we mostly sat around the front yard and tossed bread crumbs to people dressed as birds.

Everyone kept mistaking my normal attire for some sort of strange clown costume. If I wanted to come as a clown, I would have. I still have my old clown suit that I wore when I tried to make money at children’s parties. I guess that’s what I get for going to a Halloween party where I didn’t know anyone. It takes a while to get used to my unique fashion sense.

Interactive Adventure Through My Life

Do you like those old pick your path adventures you used to read as a child? Well, I created one for everyone to enjoy. There’s no princesses, aliens, or ghosts, but there are cow fetus tea parties and naked fountain bathing.

Interactive Carventure – Where Crazy Hits the Fan

It’s fun, it’s free and it has pictures. What more could you want? Well, you could want the secret to life, but all I have is the secret to Life Cereal and I’m not sharing.

Car’s Ramblings

Here’s a video of an audio excerpt of my comedy e-book, The Life and Times of Car Johnson. People say it’s hilarious and that I’m a lovable loser, but I think that I’m actually pretty profound.*

 

 

 

 

 

*He’s not.

-Rebekah, the creator of Car Johnson.

Another Cow Fetus Country Song

I just love country music. Once again, please don’t hold my Northern California soul against me. Country is like a parasite that lodged itself in my brain. Country and I are like peas and whipped cream. (If you haven’t tried peas and whipped cream together, you should come over to my mother’s house. She makes a mean batch.)

This song is shorter than my last, but it’s packed full of good old country punch:

Cow Fetus Picnic

Oh, bring out the corn, bring out the bread,
Cow fetuses can have fun, even though dead.
Let’s fling some horseshoes, let’s not have a care,
Hold your cow fetus straight up in the air!
Their skin is preserved, their jars are sturdy,
Don’t ya’ll think these bovines are purdy?
And if you don’t, we don’t give a hoot,
This picnic is for cow fetus lovers and we’ll give you the boot!

I hope you like it and I’ll be sure to bring you more country song lyrics in the future, some not even about cow fetuses. “The Cold Coffee Blues” is one of my favorites.

Reverse Skydiving

My brother’s a bit of a recluse, so I haven’t really spoken about him much. He was adopted, so he has no twin like the rest of the Johnson clan. And he wishes to remain anonymous in every way, so I will not reveal his name, either here or in my book about the travails of my life.

But I will tell you about his failed attempt at making a reverse skydiving company. His idea was to create a device that could shoot one up in the air and into a waiting airplane. Since normal airplanes don’t hover in the air, my brother tried to get possession of a V-22 Osprey. He called a military surplus store, but they told him that multi-million dollar jets aren’t something they ever have in stock.

So, he borrowed a AgustaWestland AW139 helicopter from my helicopter hoarding cousin Mike. Well, actually he just sort of took it, since Mike had so many of them, he was sure he’d never notice. The plan was to hover the helicopter in the air and launch a person from a cannon, with careful calculations that would send the reverse skydiver safely into the open door of the chopper.

His girlfriend worked at a circus and was able to get him one of those cannons daredevils used and he made a dummy out of old clothing and frozen hams to fine tune the cannon until he hit the sweet spot of cannon to helicopter accuracy. Unfortunately, the very first time he shot Mr. Hamson into the air, he slammed into the helicopter’s blades and sent it spiraling downwards in a fiery ball of steel and cooked pork bits.

Luckily, the helicopter pilot (his girlfriend) managed to bail out and land nearby. The helicopter crashed into an unfinished set for the town’s annual Founder’s Day play, causing tens of dollars worth of damage. (Our town’s really cheap.) My brother paid the town 50 dollars, but he had to pay Mike 20 million for the helicopter, plus 50,000 dollars for the cleanup and removal of metal fragments and ham.

The whole thing wiped out his life savings and had him paying off Mike for years to come. This caused my brother to have a mental breakdown. He now lives in a self made cult, where he’s the only member, giving himself orders all day as he plans for the coming Carpocalypse. (He’s convinced himself I’m the Antichrist and destined to destroy the world.)

James Bond, Godzilla and Epic Candy Battles

I’ve been known to do a few creative things in my day, like turn a bunch of old beer labels into a tuxedo and grow a garden of weeds in my closet. But today I’d like to tell you about my attempts in the visual arts.

First, I’d like to tell you about the independent film I made called The Silly Adventures of James Bond and Godzilla in the Land of Mordor.

A sad story

It’s the tragic story of James Bond’s strong friendship with Godzilla that turned sour after Godzilla betrayed James to a band of Mafia Hobbits. James vowed revenge and chased his former friend all the way to Mordor, where an epic battle ensued.

Unfortunately for me, some kid stole my movie and claimed it as his own. He got what was coming to him, though. It turns out that most people saw my masterpiece as the worst movie to ever be created and the poor film student who stole it payed the price. I hear he’s working at a gas station now.

Well, just because the world wasn’t ready for my genius didn’t mean I gave up. I wrote a play, as a gift for my girlfriend on Valentines Day.

A heartwarming tale

It’s called Sweetopia and tells the heartwarming tale of the Chalkheartians, chalky candy hearts battling for freedom from their oppressors the Trufflians, sinister boxes of chocolate truffles. Through hard work, epic confections battles and the power of cheesy sayings, the Chalkheartians fought their way to independence.

No one stole my play, but I wasn’t able to keep it in production. I opted to turn it into a puppet show and it just took too much work to control the puppets week after week, plus the city became angry after I blocked pedestrian traffic with my performances.

Word of advice: Don’t perform a play in the middle of a sidewalk, especially during the middle of the day. You might get a lot of potential audience members, but most of them just want to get to work.