Pinwheels and Peni: A John Kelly Story

My childhood left me dramatically unprepared for the real world. I never quite learned how to handle awkward moments, or hold myself in serious situations, or shut up. I never really learned how to work hard, I did learn how to argue for you to give me your stuff. I am great at that. I can tell you why you have a car and I don’t, and that I want your car and you should give me your car.

But that doesn’t make a difference because it’s your shit. I don’t even have any shit. I don’t even own a bicycle, really. I am now that guy.

I am the immobile kid who needs rides everywhere and will argue for why you should come pick me up. Ohh do you have a car? Well I have jokes and no concern about exploiting our friendship if it means I don’t have to walk to McDonalds. I mean, to be fair, their parents probably bought them that car or bought them other things so they could save up for that car. What the fuck? I am talking to no one. No one reading this is going to come pick me up. Please someone come pick me up. If you don’t, I will yell at you on Facebook until you come pick me up. I am dangerous, I have nothing to do and I have what seems to be an unlimited supply of snarky comebacks. Come pick me up.

 I feel as though I don’t know where to place the blame for my condition but my immediate turning point is Ahh Real Monsters. I fucking hated that show. The art was creepy and there was that dickless midget who had to hold his eyes above his head so he didn’t have to stare at everyone’s crotch, which was really tragic because he had a disgusting amount of spaghetti-like armpit hair that was always revealed. I feel like that guy had to argue his way into a car. I have become that dickless midget from Ahh Real Monsters.

I am that guy.

It’s not even like I have adapted well to this plight. I still have an unusually hard time at pretty easy shit. Like walking. I am horrible at walking. I take a long time doing it and I complain the entire time. I just fell down today while walking. Have you ever just fallen down while walking? Without anyone tripping you or any outside force acting upon you? Well you shouldn’t. You know why? Because you can observe, react, and change your walking pattern to stop you from falling down. And now I am on the ground, without a bike, and without a car, and I can only argue that you should pick me up and give me nice things. I want nice things and I am not very handy. Please don’t blame me, I watched too much Ahh Real Monsters.

I have been trying to grow up. It’s sort of hard and stupid though. I have been trying to put myself in situations where I have to work and succeed to survive, rather than just argue but still retain my level of boyish charm that everyone has grown to expect.  So I did what everyone does to grow up. Go on Groupon.

Groupon forces you to like weird shit. Of course, you would never want to go to a Korea Bathhouse, one because they have small hands and two, they have little souls but if it is 75% off, in this economy, YOU HAVE TO GO. Excess use of Commas detracts from overall points.

Every time I go on Groupon, I feel a little bit like a sex-deprived mother who has finally figured out how to use her son’s laptop. Please don’t check my top sites, it will only make you and Jesus cry. I am still not even sure what Groupon is. At least I figured out porn, because otherwise I would be really screwed.

So Erin and I were going to Washington D.C. for Spring Break because are just as adventurous as we are spunky. I hate the word spunky. Ellen Degenerate is spunky. I am not spunky. She is spunky.

Also, I have a girlfriend named Erin Miller. She is lovely and laughs at my jokes.

Look at how lovely she is. She doesn’t have a car. It’s a contention point in our relationship. She does own a bike, but we get heckled every time I try to sit on the handle bars. I would put her on the handle bars, but let’s try to get walking down first.

She doesn’t understand what Groupon is and I think that’s what is holding our relationship together because if a couple Groupons (It’s a verb, noun and adjective *Please see Below for more details*) together they might as well own 7 cats and work at the Postal Office because they now a sack of shit. I shouldn’t attack the Post Office. They are doing a great job.

 So on Groupon, I saw an ad for Spa World in Washington D.C. I thought ooot! Here is something that I could pretend to like and tell my elderly co-workers about! So I buy 2 tickets for Spa World and hopped on the plane to D.C.

Let’s get a few things straight. Most people would investigate where the location of the Spa World was, what it was like, what you have to bring, etc. I just bought the tickets because they had a nice picture. You know those stupid advertisements with a pig hanging out the window screaming weeeeee? Well, as soon as I saw that immediately went a bought a pinwheel afterwards. I didn’t even wait to see what the hell the ad was for. I still can’t tell you what the ad is for. All I can tell you is I saw that advertisement and thought I don’t have enough rotating things in my life. Rotating? That joke went in a weird direction. Too late to delete it, everyone knows I don’t proof read these things.

Here is the picture that made me buy the tickets to SPA WORLD. Look at how nice this thing is! There is a mushroom thing! And doors! Do you see those metal chairs! Those look like something!

Well, the very first problem I encountered was that Spa World was not in Washington D.C. but rather about 30 to 40 miles outside of the city. I don’t know if you just skipped my rant about the car, but I don’t have a car and I am pissed about it.  Erin and I then proceeded to find different bus systems to take us the 40 miles, but what I would like to reiterate is that I am not very good at simple tasks and mastering a foreign bus system was the equivalent of a normal person trying their luck at assembling an IKEA desk with no screws and only a hammer to pound the wood into a desk-like shape.

I don’t want to talk about the bus though and you don’t want to hear about it.

What you want to hear about is the absolute shock that Erin and I had the second we pulled up to Spa World. Every sign in this neighborhood was in Korean, even some of the stop signs. And Spa World wasn’t this luxurious place, but rather stuck between an All-You-Can-Eat Duck and Mallard Buffet and a rundown Papa John’s Pizza located in what the Koreans think a mini-mall looks like. So with so much hesitation, we slowly and cautiously entered the doors

I went up to the Cashier and handed her my Groupons and she gave me two little faggy (I mean faggy in the lame sense of the word. Gay people have way too much good fashion sense to put on a potato sack) potato sacks for Erin and I to wear. Yes potato sacks. Well no not potato sacks. But they reminded me of potato sacks and it’s more about the memory than the event. The cashier showed us to the changing rooms and told us to enjoy the spa.

Within seconds of opening the door to the male section, all I saw was penis. Penis here, penis there, and penis everywhere. I was engulfed in peni (Plural of penis). Apparently Spa World is a nudist spa and those potato sacks would not be worn unless you went to go talk to the all-knowing cashier. He didn’t want to see your penis.

The spa above was filled with naked men who sat in silence and avoided eye contact at all cost. For my homosexual readers please don’t be deceived by this description. The peni that I saw there was mutated and looked more like a deflated gray balloon left over from the fat kid’s birthday party that no one attended. Nobody wants your penis and your party sucks you Fat Kid With Acne (FKWA).

In fact, only go to Spa World if you are feeling down because I felt as though I had a beautiful, soft, majestic red wood opposed to their shriveled up purple-purple headed womb ferret.

The very worst/best part of the all the peni was the sign that you had to read before you entered the spa, which put every individual who read it in the worst mental space you could imagine.

WELCOME TO SPA WORLD!

Rules of the Spa

1.      Do not take pictures of any individual in the spa

2.      Do not point at any individual’s member

3.      Do not stare at an individual’s member

4.      At no point should you laugh at our guests

5.      Please do not touch another guest without permission

6.      No sexual misconduct in the pool

Welcome to the gulags for penises. And I thought Hilary Clinton was the place where boners go to die but apparently she has handed over the reins.

Also can we talk about the 6^th point? Who would want to have sexual misconduct after reading that statement? I thought the second I was going to enter the door I was going be screamed at with NEEDLE DICK and COCK MUNCHER and DROOPAP!

They are Korean; they are going to have different sayings then us. Get fucking cultured will you?

No one has entered that door with a boner, and no one ever will.

I entered the door, as flaccid as ever, and proceeded to move to the very first Jacuzzi to stake my claim and get as far away from the other men as possible. Apparently, every single man has thought of this strategy because every man occupied their own section and you would not and could not go into another man’s territory until they move into another one.

So it became a game of waiting and quickly moving with as much confidence as you can transfer to a scared weak penis. I can’t believe how many jokes were going through my mind but I wasn’t about to get out of line, and that’s when I saw it. The moment where I failed so badly to hold in my laughter than it seemed like I didn’t even fucking try.

I looked over and on a concrete platform lay a very black, very fat, very naked man. Above him was a very Korean, very tiny, also very naked man scrubbing the living shit out of him. Next to this whole ordeal was a sign that said “Full Body Scrub -$50- You’ll leave saying WOAZA!”

I cried, I laughed so hard. I sprinted out of my Jacuzzi and into the nearest sauna, shut the door, and just howled with laughter. Let me tell you, I didn’t have to spend $50 dollars to say Woaza!

I got dressed and saw Erin who had stayed in her spa for a total of 5 minutes before realizing that Spa World was absolutely horrible. It took a black man getting hosed down by a Korean man for me to figure out that maybe it was time to go.

I couldn’t help but think that if I was a smarter person that maybe I would have a car. Or that I wouldn’t buy Groupons. Or that I would do a little bit of research. Or when I, John Kelly, am instructed to not laugh at a naked penis, maybe realize that that particular ability is beyond my grasp.

Live Deliberately
John Danger Kelly

How to Correctly use the word Groupon

“Dude, I know I shouldn’t have had 12 beers last night but her tits were huge and I had to Groupon on it.” -David

Here we see David using Groupon to describe a positive opportunity without the use of the actual site.

“I am going to kill you goddamn Jew and your entire family too. You are going to get a bullet straight into your Groupon”-Bill O’Reilly

Bill O’ Reilly while threatening this Jew, used Groupon to describe the most advantageous place to shoot the Jew.

“OHH YEAH! FUCK YEAH! HARDER HARDER HARDER! ALMOST THERE! UHH YEAH! GROUPON!!!!!!” –Erin Miller

As Erin is climaxing she uses Groupon to describe the level of orgasm that she receive. Many women will use this word while they are on bottom contributing much less to the actual orgasm drawing an interesting parallel to the savings of the website.

Jesusland

Jesusland

Graham Greene once said “You can’t conceive, nor can I, the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God.”

I don’t know whose ass he was kissing there because I just think he is vindictive.

I have spent this entire summer wondering about my unique creator and what involvement he has in my life. A creator whose power and might formed this very Earth and gave birth to the beauty that it holds  Majestic and soft yet audacious and infinite, me being a mere mortal I couldn’t wrap my mind about Him. This summer I stood in awe of the God invoked beauty that I saw in Colorado, the friendship I renewed in Tempe, the invincible feeling I got when I rode my motorcycle at over 45 miles per hour, the intense and religious awakening motivation that I felt when I listened to Procol Harum’s A Salty Dog in the summer rain. This summer I was finally mending my relationship with God.

Then those fucking Republicans came back into the picture.

I spent about 3 weeks in my bathrobe walking back and forth trying to figure out how to beat these bastards on the debt deal. Have you ever seen me in my bathrobe? It’s truly a sight to see. I look nothing short of an insane Unabomber with chicken legs and unflattering figure. To be fair I don’t believe anyone looks truly sane in a bathrobe but I especially look like a drugged out emaciated alien. My boxers are always hiked up as high as they can which forces my testicles, and therefore my entire mindset, to go to the left in a disgusting bulge. Whenever I wear my bathrobe it is a horrible experience for everyone involved.

But I couldn’t solve the debt deal, they were willing to default which meant the end of America as a global superpower as we knew it and I couldn’t understand why they wanted that. They wanted to eliminate the Federal government while pledging allegiance to the Flag and praying to Jesus Christ. Instead of boasting about America being the greatest country in the world and trying to push its power and scope in the world so that we may once again advanced the human race past our dreams, they wanted to destroy and reduce America and all of its ambitions. I couldn’t understand how anyone was behind this anarchist party; I don’t know how the hell they called themselves patriots.

I remember seeing on Drudge Report the day after the debt deal, there was a gigantic story and headline of “OBAMA EATS 1,600 CALORIE LUNCH!”

Those feckless thugs stooped to a new low level that reminded me of Jenny Craig with a Hitler mustache. This was the biggest headline on Drudge Report and that in itself was a crime The main headline was not that the “Downgrade was looming” or that “To Everyone’s Surprise America Does Not Have Gigantic Revolt Against the Tea Party” or to hell with it I would have even settled a nice nip slip to look at (which would increase their viewers 10 fold).  But no they went with the President’s diet choices on the day before his birthday.

Then if Burger Gate wasn’t enough in the middle of the lunch a Reporter spotted a boy who came up to Obama and during the conversation Obama decided to be generous to the child and give him the President’s milkshake. Within minutes afterwards the headline quickly turned from the 1600 Calorie Lunch to “OBAMA SHOVES FATTY MILKSHAKE DOWN CHILD’S THROAT!”

This is insane and this is the party that claims to have the moral high ground when they are talking about all the milkshakes in yard as though it indoctrination of everyone’s child. This is the party that claims that God is on their side and that Liberals are Godless cretins with bulging awkward underwears. This is the party that throws around Liberal as though it was a dirty, soulless word. This is the party that throws the word Liberal at our feet as though it was scum and not a badge of honor. I am proud to be Liberal. Liberals are the ones the freed the slaves. Liberals are the ones that got African-Americans the right to vote, Liberals are the ones that got women the right to Vote. Liberals are the ones that passed the Civil Rights Act, The Voting Rights Act, and the Clean Water Act. Liberals are the ones that brought an elderly generation out of poverty and gave them health care.

Conservatives?

They opposed every single one of those measures, every single one. Then they get say Liberal is a dirty word? They get to hold the monopoly on Moral Justice?

Well Fuck that Shit.

This brings me back to my first point: Where the shoot is God in all of this? Is he standing by the sidelines as they reverse these measures? He is helping them? IS HE HELPING THEM!?  Is the GOP the party of God? Has the Creator, the God of this vast Coloradoan Landscape, Creator of Friendship, Creator of Procol Harum, The Master of Karate, really backed the party that is trying to destroy the very reasons I started liking God in the first place?

Well I am sick of it.

I am starting a new fucking religion.

I don’t know if God is backing the other side and acting as a criminal. Or if God is standing idly by and being criminally negligent. Either way

God is a criminal.

(Mariah Franklin if you are still reading, this would be a good place to stop.)

The Church of the John Kelly Like Saints

              

Egotistical Much?

I am not saying that I am God or that I am God like but rather that I am offering a cheap, efficient substitute to God for those individuals whose prayers have yet to be answered and are pissed off about it.

Prayers

Prayers will work in the form of hand written letters. God cannot hear you nor can you send him with a letter but with a 42 cent postage stamp I can read all of your concerns. I will actually try my absolute damnedest to answer and solve all of your prayers. If a bully is picking on you at school, I will try and pay someone much stronger than the both of us to beat him up for you. If you need to trying to win over the girl of your dreams, I will get her drunk for you and get you two in a room (Despite what the Christians say, Alcohol solves a lot of relationship issues). If you are upset that the Republicans are taking over this country and forcing good Americans to feel like foreigners in their own country, then I will run for office.

I will be a God(quick jump from Business man to God?) that will that listen to you rather than have you waste your words on your mom cracking the door open so that she can listen to you beg to your ceiling before you go to bed. I will be tangible, relatable, a mere mortal, and most of all in reach of the United States Postal Service.

If funds are required for your prayers and you believe it would be wrong or stupid to try and make me foot the bill, please include money so that I can fulfill your prayers. I give you the John Kelly Guarantee of Approval that I will do my absolute best to fulfill each and every one of your prayers.

   

We do have some beliefs within this religion and I will not violate any commandments or beliefs or anything I stretch the commandments to mean. I will stretch them if necessary

The Foundational Principles

1.      Snuggling is not a sin nor is it a commitment

2.      A fresh pair of socks will make your day so much better

3.      “Epic” Is a really annoying word and should never be used

4.      Ryan Lane will solve all of our computer technical problems

5.      Toy Story 2 was an okay movie

6.       Lack of Random Sexual Encounters should be fixed at any cost

7.      Matthew Brewer is the church’s enemies for more reasons to count

8.       Don’t care if you like Jesus

9.       Pencils will be lost and you will have to beg for new ones but they should be granted in every single instance you would ever need one.

10.   Do not let Maddie Roy near hot things

11.  You should learn how to whistle at all costs

12.  Bathrobes will not be judged, neither will weird looking balls

13.  Glitter is fun, not a lifestyle

14.   You are allowed to Rate, Date, Mate but please do not Rape

15.  Sammy Kirshbaum is secretly the funniest kid in the world

Commandments

1. Love but do not tickle thy God

2. When voting, look for a mind at work

3. When going to the bathroom, please keep your problems and troubles to yourself

4. Be Fearful of those who believe they know what God wants you to do

5. Fridays will be casual

6. Remember that fixing America, and by extension the world, does not mean reducing it

7. Distrust anyone who doesn’t get overwhelmingly excited when Peeps come back for Easter

8. No Fat Chicks

9. You should like every single country in the entire world and prove it

 10. Live Deliberately

 

If you would like to become a full fledge member of the Church of John Kelly Like Saints then please send your prayers to:

St. John Kelly

1000 Forest Meadows St.

APT# 230

Flagstaff, AZ 86001

Please allow 24-72 hours for a response back in addition to the shitty mail service time that will be inevitable by product of the reduction in government funds.

Live Deliberately

John Kelly



Mike Kelly: The Greatest Man I Know

The Otherside of John Kelly

Ever since @Sammy Howden (doesn't work on blog, ask Ryan Lane how to fix this) talked about how awesome fat ugly chicks are in bed, I can't seem get them off my mind.

I think the attraction that I have is that they are so hideous that you are a sexual God in their eyes rather than Anne Frank's little brother. True I might be a 6.8 on a good day but when I am going after women who are easily a 7.2, I will always feel inadequate. I want to be the hot girl for once, I want a gross fat chick.

Being a hot chick must be awesome. You get the other partner to do everything in the relationship. You can just lay their during sex and act like it is a treat for them rather than try and thrust your dick in them in hopes they will think your awesome sex moves will make up for your lack of attractiveness. I can't wait to be a hot chick, I want to dominate in the relationship. But not even just dominate, I want my future overweight girlfriend to carry me around places in fear that I will break up with her. I want to become tyrannical. I want to become the biggest bastard in the world, and I have finally come to a place in my life where I am okay with this desire.


This, like all things, brings me immediately back to Modern Britain Political Thought

Our teacher who is Scottish, has a tint of homosexuality, and is grossly overpayed asked the class "If you could shape the world government how would you make it" First off, this has nothing to do with Modern British Political Thought and it just echoes the stupid liberalism that runs through Flagstaff like a mighty stream and destroys any idea that is plausible in the slightest in the name of stupidity and ignorance.

Of course when the teacher asked this no one had any response because it was too broad of a question. After a painful silence of everyone staring at the floor, the Neo-Nazi British kid rose his hand with a smirk on his face like his answer was the best answer in the world. He then said loudly, proudly, and if I do say myself a little smugly "Well if I had my way we would have a much less population (holocaust I KNEW IT!) so that we as a species we could be self sustainable (imagine him talking like Carlton from the Fresh Prince of Bel Air but with a punk British accent) and have a socialist society with everybody equal and nobody or no group in  complete power"

Being from a crazy liberal family, I could honestly get behind that. World peace, the elimination of poverty, and equal rights who wouldn't be for that if they had the chance? I sat there in silence, silently agreeing and then I realized, this fucker would be my equal in this perfect world and I couldn't ever change that. There is no way in hell I could be comfortable with that bloke (his words not mine) being anything more than a piece of shit of society. I want my fat chick and I want her to eat cake too.

Thank God I drank a coffee that morning and was therefore prepared for the day

I quickly rose my hand and I screamed my rebuttal  "Absolutely not! If I had MY WAY, I would be king, no scratch that I would be God, and I would  not only be oppressive but extremely tyrannical as well. I would rule the world of politics, religion, and economics and every decision I would make would benefit me. I would choose policies that I thought were cool and push science and technology that I thought was cool. A push for the Cure for Smallpox? More like Teleportation. There is no way in hell I would go for a Utopian society if I was the one choosing and for anyone to say they would is either lying or stupid"

I was trying to be funny but to be completely honest when that question came up I didn't imagine Heaven or this peaceful place where everyone could come together, I imagined me, on a golden throne being carried by fat women and being fanned by the people in my lives that I never really knew but always said hi to me for some reason.    @Matt Brewer, @Pebbles Salas (Facebook jokes!)

I even imagined torture. I went that far that even imagined who I would torture and how I would do it. The first and one of the very few victims would be Glenn Beck. He would have shave like 10 monkeys a day and only be given one gillete razor to do it. Then every night before he fell asleep in his prison cell, which would obviously be covered in fecal matter, he would get punched in the mouth. It would be by someone new each and every day. It wouldn't even be hard to find people, I am sure there would be a fucking line to do it.

Some of you are shocked by this, thinking that I let Glen Beck off too easily. Have you ever tried to shave 10 monkeys while being trapped in a small cell only given a Gillete Razor to shave them? Well neither have I but I am guessing that it would be horrifying and extremely hard. I mean I don't even know how I would the hell would you approach that. But it doesn't matter to me, that will be Glen Beck's job.

Dreaming of Glen Beck getting choked by monkeys was some of the most fun I have had in a while. I realized then I need to become more of a bastard but rather than do it through tyrannical oppression, do it through something I am good at like humor. I can't pretend any longer than I am comfortable with a socialist, perfect society or even pretending that I am okay letting attractive women dominate me. No one should be able to dominate me. If I let that happen, if I am okay with that status quo, then I where the hell do I get off putting Live Deliberately at the end of every blog?

I need a roll model who doesn't care about anything and is a bastard to all that oppose him. I need an idol that uses humor and dick moves to control his life, and doesn't bow down to anyone no matter how important it is that he does. He needs to avoid logic and reason and go for the insane as he screams at you being boring and inane. I need a Glorious Bastard.

Then it hit me like a lighting bolt from Zeus himself.

The biggest bastard who live more deliberately than any man before him.

Mike Kelly, my father

For those who have never heard the stories of Mike Kelly or never met the legend himself, he is the ideal image of a hilarious bastard. He is a man who should have never had kids and never been given responsibility but has flourished with these two horrendous impositions.

Mike Kelly is a man who uses insane illogical thoughts to rule his life. This has caused him to wear a bee keepers outfit to places like Water World because he is too sick of that goddamn sun (his words not mine).


He is a man who digs holes just to dig holes. Growing up,I can't even remember all the countless holes he had me dig, only to fill them back up or just give up half way through due to 'fucking zoning laws.' Whatever the hell that means.

Mike Kelly was even voted mostly likely in higschool to become a "bum" and do fucking nothing with his life. I am sure as my father looks back on his life I feel as though he would have rather chosen the life of a homeless man as long as he had 3 things: a beekeepers outfit, aloe vera to put on his bald head, and a fucking path to walk through. I can't imagine a man filled with more idealistic nonsensical ideas that are just hilarious and cause him to be happy.


I remember as a child that he honestly thought it was a better idea just to dig a gigantic hole to bury our old couch rather than to take it to the dump. He even rented a bulldozer for some burying projects! He hasn't even changed in the slightest in all these years! I went home for Easter this past week and during my visit our TV died. Instead of throwing the TV in the car and taking it to the dump like a normal human being, he merely put the TV on a dolly cart and romped it off the cliff at our house. My dad then proceeded to tell me that he will bury it soon and give it a proper funeral . At the funeral he reassured me he would of course say some words for "Stevie the TV" and that I shouldn't be worried.

Walking back into the house from the "funeral", he screamed at me to get away from his hole that he dug because I apparently had gotten to close to it and he didn't want me "fucking with it".


THIS MAN IS FUCKING BAT CRAZY

Even the little things he does makes you wonder how mentally stable this man truly is. He asks my mom to call " Merlin" for some fucking reason, even after expressing no interest in magic or mythological worlds. He has even started to call himself "Merlin" as though he has taken on another non-related personality just to fuck with people.

He has even begun to leave little Native American stories around the house for us to read while we are doing normal activities. He has taped them up on the computer, on every single cupboard door in the house, and around the toilet for in case you need some light reading while you are having a bowel movement and you forgot the newspaper.

Half of these stories don't even make sense because he edited them to make them fit on the back of a Cherrio box.

One of them I read while I was home was "A wolf greets a child in the forest and the child backs away scared and frightened. The wolf approaches the child sniffing its body. The longer the wolf stays there the child gets increasingly more afraid. After a while the child learns from the the wolf and they become friends."

Like thanks Dad! Now I have gotten the message! Thank fucking god I didn't waste my breakfast thinking about anything else than this story about this wolf and some fucking kid.

He has to be kidding, there is no way someone can make that funny of a joke by being themselves. Mike Kelly is the funniest person I know and it took me more than 20 years to start laughing.

He even uses the Native American thing as a joke. As a kid he would take me to the Verde Valley to go look for a "crack" in the walls of the cliff to look for an undiscovered Hopi ruin. We spent days of my childhood walking along that cliff looking into a bunch of caves but never actually going in there. In a day it would be common to walk up and down the canyon walls 10 times, never going in any caves or cracks. There might have been ruins, who knows, but we never would have found out. Instead we walked through brush and loose rocks in incredible heat to walk up to each and every cave and say "isn't this beautiful!" as he pats me on the back and calls me "son."

I never quite understood what the hell that was when I was a kid but now I realize he was making such a sophisticated joke that it took 15 years of reflection for me to finally get it.

I know this is going to sound even crazier but I think I want to be exactly like him when I grow up. I have never met a man with more conviction and comedy than my dad. He acts with confidence and puts the family in horrible hilarious situations that have made me who I am today. Who else had a father who thought it would be a good idea to get 4 llamas in order to start a backpacking business in PRESCOTT, AZ. This impulsiveness and creativity has drastically shaped the world that I lived in and currently live in. He is the King, He is God, He is Mike Kelly.

I have no idea if he is the smartest man I have ever met, or just the luckiest hobo. I have been asking myself that question for 20 years of my life and I finally realized at the "funeral" that it doesn't matter in the slightest. He is happy in a world he was not destined to be in and that fact alone makes me want to be like him. He is a bastard and hates the world, so he makes jokes an does crazy things to keep himself happy. If that's not what you think of when you think of me, than you really haven't gotten to know me.

I want to be a bastard  who displays extreme levels of honesty. I want to do exactly what I want to do without rhyme or reason or having to explain myself to anyone. I don't want to have to depend on others to be happy. I want to be in a relationship where I can remain independent and come back for jokes and good company. I want to live deliberately. I want to be my King. I want to be my God. I want to be Mike Kelly.

Live Deliberately


John Kelly