W.A.B.I.H.M.G.L.O.I.E

It's an acronym for the last week of my life. Writing A Book Is Hard, Maybe Getting Laid Off Is Easier. Getting Laid off is a story for another time though. I'm writin' my book I said I would write one, it ain't as easy as John Grisham makes it out to be. Obviously more book writing leads to less blog writing because of my lack time to write more. But, I think I've decided on a title, Crazy is Contagious. The first chapter? Middle-Child Syndrome.

And that thought brings us to today's theme, "W.A.P.B.F.", which means – Write A Post Become Famous. While I'm writing my book I need someone to help out with the content in this site. I would love get some guest speakers up in this beyatch. Anyone, I don't care if you look like a retarded Bush family member (aren't they all?") But I think I've got a name, Crazy is Contagious with the first chapter titled Middle-Child Syndrome. It's good I think so far. I really like the chapter I'm working on now, Am I gay? Great inner-feeling stuff.

Basicaly, I'm looking for some guest writers to help me out while I write my epic about the Whitmore's. I don't have that high of standards. You have to be well written, funny, or just reflecting on your interaction with a Whitmore. Email me your stories at mrwhitmore@gmail.com. I would love to hear what you guys say about us or what my family has to say about growing up a Whitmore. I'm 3 chapters in to it in just two weeks or so, so I don't think it will be for that long.

Send your entries to mrwhitmore@gmail.com and I will look over them and publish them for you. If you're good enough, I'll give you an account to the site to do whatever you want. Happy writing, I'll start your inspiration off with Haiku. If you don't know what it means, Google it bitch. A.S.M.Y.H.

John's Haiku

"I write on my blog,

Nobody seems to care much,

We'll be rich writers."

Brilliant, I know.

Now send me your Haiku's.

P.S. check out http://www.froghatstudios.com/portemp.html. This is a talented mother fucker,

I think I might write a book

I'm thinking of starting a book. Writing one that is. I know it's a weird thing for me to do, but why not. I have too much time to sit around and think. Idle hands are the devil's plaything. I think that's my favorite little saying. Short, sweet and to the point. Anyway, thing is, I don't know what to write about. It will probably about my life and family. "Write what you know" is what they say. All I know is my dreams of becoming a rock star are becoming less and less likely with each passing day. But I want to do something that could possibly entertain people and be therapeutic for myself at the same time. I wouldn't mind being able to say 'published author.' I think it would sound cool. You can say it when you say your name. Instead of John Whitmore, the guitarist from Still Pending, or Dr. John Whitmore, it would be John Whitmore, published author.

I could write fiction but I think my family is just neurotic enough to possibly get the same attention, say, a plane crash or a hit single could get. I was riding my bike today and thinking alot about this whole writing a book thing. I've been thinking about it a lot lately. A couple people have suggested it to me. And I was churning out titles that would most likely would get me on the New York Times Bestseller list. Although this would take me probably two years to accomplish (considering one of these posts takes me hours to think of and then write (mainly because I still don't know my home keys (but maybe writing a book could cure that (or it could get me faster at typing like a retard)))) I'm already thinking of names for the book and even individual chapters.

This calls for some audience participation. These are the names I've come up with for the book so far. Although I wil probably hate these names in two years time, but I would like to hear what you think of them now. Please vote on your favorite.

1. Middle Child Syndrome (my favorite)
2. Crazy Is Contagious
3. Team Whitmore
4. Fat Boy Turned Skinny
5. Middle Whitmore
6. My Life In The Bible Belt
7. John Whitmore. The Book
8. Growing Up Whitmore
9. John Michael

Please vote. Feel free to put in your own title as well.

Thanks,

mgmnt.

Life on Butt Rock is good

This just in… I might already be in hell

Welcome to Dallas, TX. It’s the summer already. It’s only June and I’m complaining about it being too hot when I have about three more months of increased heat on the way.

Do you know how bad your balls chafe in 110 degree heat?

My puss-filled ball blisters have puss-filled blisters themselves.

Today it is 96 degrees.

That’s officially 18 degrees hotter than it should ever be on the surface of our planet. The entire Earth should have the climate of Hawaii. And the women of Brazil… with strong accents. Actually it’s better if I can’t understand them. We should go back to the days of being able to club a woman and bring them back to your cave. Air-conditioned cave of course. Sex in heat like Texas is probably lethal. There’s nothing worse than having to be the one that rolls over into the wet spot.

Back to how Texas is like Hell. First of all, Dallas women are each just like satan. Satan with nice fake boobies and asses like a round hams. But they all breathe fire, I assure you.

How else is Dallas like hell? hmm…. Well our highways are kinda like the road to Hell but only if hell is just like Plano, which it probably is. The bars are only open till midnight and the most fun to be had is bowling.

I’m sure there would be an income tax in Hell, which is the only reason Texas is better than hell, but I bet the property tax is next to nothing. 1 for Hell. 1 for Texas.

Oh, I also have to work in Texas, probably just like Hell. But, here I am a graphic designer. In hell, I would pobably be Hitler’s personal salad tosser. But then again the last meal I had tasted like ass so maybe I’m already there.

Also, there should be some kinda rule that you have to have a pool break at work for 2 hours a day. Why does Spain get a siesta and we don’t. I could really use a nap. I’m sure this post is reflective of that.

So, if you want, move to Texas. The transistion to the afterlife will be much less painless.

Good Luck!

I got to third base with a girl from Maxim Magazine

When I was 18, I had just moved into Denton. Boy did college start off with a bang.

I got a job waiting tables of course. During my first week there I have never had so much luck with hot women. After our second shift together I got up the nerve to ask one out and to my suprise, she said yes. One for Whitmore.

We went out on date and afterwards went back to my apartment and [expletives deleted for my mother's and girlfriend's sake]. Afterwards, she asked if I played basketball.

"You're kinda tall."

"I know. I'm a man more of the arts than sport."

"Well, your abs could use the workout."

Ouch. That hurts coming from anyone, much less a gorgeous person.

Ok, minus one for Whitmore.

Then, a couple days later, a girl, Whitney, I'd had held an attraction for came up to work while she was off to ask me out on a date. I had never been asked out on a date by a fine girl before. So, of course, I said,

"Yes."

So we went on our date. We had some fun. Hung out and it was going very well. I got a kiss. Oh yea.

We promised to see each other again. I really liked this girl as opposed to the other one.

We would not go out again.

The next time I heard from either one of them was at the same time. They were wondering how they were both dating a guy named John Whitmore that worked at Abuelo's Mexican Food Embassy. I liked Whitney and still wish we could have seen each other a little more.

"Hi. This is Whitney, I'm here with your good friend, Alana and we got to talking. Don't ever call us again."

"But… But…"

Click.

And that was the end of my two-timing days.

Two years later I found out Alana was in Maxim Magazine. Yes, I'm hitting myself now. But atleast I can say I hooked up with a girl from Maxim.