Johnny Valentine

Johnny Valentine is striving to be the Hunter S. Thompson of his generation. Take a walk on the wild side with him.

Death of a National Pastime: The Pussification of Professional Football

It’s a swift kick to the testicles of American society when all the primal glory of violence is stripped from its most beloved sport. Gladiators are forced to play two-hand touch under penalty of suspensions and fines. It’s sad that all the sport’s savage appeal has been shoplifted from the field by the fatheads in the Commissioner’s Office. Frank Monica, head coach of high school Class 3A state champions St. Charles Catholic, once said that football is not a contact sport; it’s a collision sport. Ballroom dancing is a contact sport. Whatever happened to my favorite Monday Night Football segment, “Jacked Up”? It has since been replaced with “C’mon Man.” The latter (basically a blooper reel) is not nearly as entertaining as watching players knock the snot out of one another. I can remember Steve Young on TV a few years back. He was saying that several retired players realized …

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The Adventures of Topher, Part II

With our Mardi Gras intermission out of the way, we now resume the tale of Topher begun in February. Current mood: Stable. So, I failed miserably at USL and moved back home with the folks, hooked up with some old friends who had also found new tricks, and got a job installing floors with a friend of mine. It was a good job for the time. We got up, went to work, got off, drank 40s, smoked, drank more, and eventually got to the part where we did blow almost every day. I remember me and my boy going to Reserve all the time to get eight balls and cutting it with Sheetrock, prescription pills, Aspirin “¦ whatever would make it big enough to pass. I even cut the stuff with Sheetrock one night and did it with the guys I sold it to. I was getting to be a …

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Parade Pee-Time Problems

Mardi Gras is that magical time of year when closet drunks and druggies, admitted alcoholics, and crazily bizarre weirdos come out to New Orleans to play. Some are more seasoned veterans than others”¦ Some are drunken high school children who can’t hold their liquor and are vomiting uncontrollably while lying in their own filth next to a line of Porta-Pottys. Some are sober, old, crazy ladies trying to catch a decorated shoe from the Muses parade. Either way, they’re all here to celebrate this couple of weeks of debauchery before Lenten season comes around. Then all of us Catholics have to be on our best behavior, fast, and sacrifice for fear that God will smite us down just as he did to Sodom and Gomorrah because of homosexuality and fornication (ancient biblical Mardi Gras). Since moving to New Orleans in 2007, my friend Vic Dooley has been organizing a big …

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The Adventures of Topher, Part I

Usually, right about now you’d be reading about the wild and crazy adventures of Johnny Valentine. As interesting as my life stories have been, I thought it’d be fun to introduce you to a new character. Topher was like a brother to me growing up, and our lives are extremely similar. We’re both f””k-ups, both not living up to our true potential, both love to party hard, both have great storytelling abilities and have amazing stories to tell “¦ What can I say? We’re both lovable addicts. His life story is as entertaining as it is heartbreaking, and I would be doing everyone a great injustice if I didn’t share it with you. Without further ado: The Adventures of Topher, Part I. Current mood: Calm. The year was ’97, and it was the first night at my new apartment in Lafayette. I brought two of my friends there, and we …

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