Thursday, November 19, 2015

Johnny Panic: Check Your Privilege Part 1 of 3

“Now just a little to the left...perfect!”

Another day.

“Okay, now smile...that's...okay...great!”

Another photo shoot.

“Give me a little flight, Johnny! Just a...oh, good god!”

This guy loves his job too much.

“And...we're done! Thank you so much!”

I'd love my job too if I had the pleasure of taking pictures of me for the day. Sometimes I take dick pics for the hell of it. I'll send them to Ronica even though she is laying right next to me. She will sigh and the next thing you know I'm flying to another state to grab her something she likes. Its a bartering system and the key to a happy relationship. When women are full of food they like they can't protest the sex. I read that somewhere.

My bestfriend Zazz is off to the side texting while we're in this studio. Probably his wife. Nerd. I bet he has never sent his wife a dick pic. He's not that type of guy. He's the type to send a selfie while at a restaurant or of the food he is eating. I'll never understand how he got a chick like Aimee. Its on some Billy Bob/Jolie level shit.

“How'd you ever get a chick like Aimee?” I ask him. He holds up a finger to me wanting me to wait. “I will take that and stick it up my nose. You know I will.” Because I have.

“Aimee wants me to bring her something back while we're here in L.A” he says.

“Stop dodging the question” I say. “I asked if you've ever sent Aimee a dick pic.”

“W-what?” he sputters. “You didn't ask that at all.”

“I kinda did.”

“No, you asked how did I get a 'chick' like Aimee” he lies. “And women do not appreciate being called chicks.”

“Good thing I do not associate with women then, huh?” I say. He just shakes his head at me which makes his cheeks wobble. I laugh. “I hang out with chicks, dames, broads, tramps, skeezers, and on rare occasions boss ass bitches.”

“You don't even know any boss ass bitches.”

“I know plenty of boss ass bitches” I protest.

“Women do not like being called bossy either.”

“Who are these boring ass hookers you're hanging out with?!” I ask. “And before you say anything I am fully aware that hookers don't like being called boring.”

“That's what you took from that statement?”

“I'm just saying, if you've never sent a dick pic to the woman of your life then you haven't lived a fulfilled life. You may quote me.” I float in front of him and snatch his phone. “Now answer the question.”

“Give me back my phone and I'll answer your inane question.”

“Inane was the word of the day last Wednesday so I know what it means” I tell him.

“Can't believe you still use that calendar...”

“And the question is not inane. It's astute.” I wave his phone in his face. “If this was a sandwich you'd have tackled me to the ground already.”

“No, I have not sent Aimee or any other woman a picture of my penis” he lies. I hand him back his phone. “Is that what you think about while having hundreds of pictures you'll never see taken of you?”

“Being me is hard work, short stack” I say.

“Check your privilege” he says. I just stare at him. Nope. No laser vision yet. “Stop trying to set me on fire.

“Get out of my head, warlock!”

“I'm just saying, you stand there posing for thousands of dollars” he says smiling like he just made some point. He didn't. “I wouldn't call that hard work. There are plenty of people in the streets working harder.”

“Muthafucka, I am the streets!” I shout. He just stares at me with a twinkle in his eye. “You're hungry. Let's eat.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“You're never not hungry” I say. “Stop lying, you liar. Mr. I Don't Take Dick Pics Or Hang With Boss Ass Bitches. I bet Aimee would be all over you like stank on shit.”

“Oh, god...”

“Is what she'd be moaning!” I say and wait for a high-five. He just sighs. “I swear if you don't high-five me I will put a hole in your chest. You never not high-five a friend. Ever.” He gives me the most reluctant high-five ever recorded in human history. “Watch this. Photographer man! You ever sent a dick pic?”

“Of course.”

“Hey, assistant to him? You ever sent a dick pic?”

“All the time.”

“Hey, makeup lady? You ever get a dick pic?”

“Too many to count. You sent me one a while...”

“Okay okay we get it we get it!” I say to her. “See, Zazz. Its natural. Just send her one now. We'll head into the bathroom. There's great lighting. Hit the right angle and she won't even know its yours.”


“Just make sure your pubes on fleek” I say. “Most guys underestimate the fleekness of their pubes but it is very necessary for the right dick pic.”

“I'm not sending a dick pic, you freak!”

“Calm down, Mr. My Pubes Ain't On Fleek And Look Like A Tumbleweed.” We continue walking till we're outside. Zazz's phone goes off and he checks it.

“Oh, god! Why?!”

“Just to prove that my pubes are on fleek.”

“When did you send this?!”

“A few seconds ago” I say. “Flew into the bathroom and took it. Nice, huh?”

“Please, don't ever do that again.” His phone buzzes. “Walter, please...” Zazz checks his phone. Its a text from Ronica.

“I CC'd her in it” I say. “Didn't want her to feel left out.”

Click here for previous Johnny Panic.  

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