Jarod Kintz
This is it, this is my biography. The story of Jarod Kintz begins now.
Let’s knock out the trivial first. I was born in Salt Lake City on March 5th. Now that you know my birthday, please feel free to get me birthday presents. Notice how I used the plural, presents? More than one gift would be greatly appreciated. Appropriate gifts include gold coins, bars of silver, and large tracts of land (preferably beachfront property). Or you could just buy me a drink—soda, natural, because I don’t drink either alcohol or high fructose corn syrup.
Skipping ahead a few years, and a few hundred miles, we come to Denver, Colorado. For a few years I attended Mackintosh Academy. In the second grade, along with English, I studied French, Spanish, and Japanese. Out of all those language classes, I remember one word: Andrea. That was my girlfriend at the time, the one who left me for my best friend. I guess I remember two words, as I remember his name too, but his name is almost sacred, as a name that shall never be uttered.
Right after second grade ended my family moved to Jacksonville, Florida. It was Jacksonville that I would come to know as home, and would attend the rest of my schooling until college.
At this point I was a mediocre student. I believe I had a perfect 2.0 grade point average from third grade until I graduated from high school. My favorite classes were art, P.E., and lunch. Oh, is one of those not a class? No way—I believe art is still considered a class.
When not cracking jokes in class, I would be doing one of three things: drawing, passing notes, or sleeping. In high school I started to not only be mentally absent from class, but physically gone too. I’d skip class like a flat rock skips across a pond.
After high school, it was on to college. In all I have attended six colleges. I bounced around like a dodgeball on a trampoline. If you count the college classes I took starting my junior year of high school, then I got my four-year degree in nine years. And if you’re going to do something, you might as well do it at least twice as well as everybody else—or at least at least twice as long.
I graduated with an English degree from the University of Florida, but I took creative writing classes from both UF and Florida State University. All though college I fancied myself a fancy man, because I was an aspiring writer. Mostly I wrote t-shirt slogans and other pithy things. In the spring of 2005 I did manage to sell a line of t-shirts to Urban Outfitters.
That is my lone success in life. Seriously. Well, so far anyway. But my story is just beginning. I plan on failing my way to success. I have been rejected by literary agents, publishers, MFA programs, all sorts of women. But still I keep writing.
I have written many “books,” and I use the term books loosely. Mostly they are just compilations of my random thoughts and one-liners. But I like writing them, and people seem to like reading them. and that’s what it’s all about, right?
All my books are self-published, either through iUniverse or the wonderful Amazon Kindle program. I encourage everybody to write. Share yourself with the world. If there is one thing I like to impress upon people, it’s that you can do it, even if you can’t. Just keep can’ting until eventually you can. And you can quote me on that.
“I have so many pet peeves that I can’t even pet them all. And damn I wish they were furry.”
“I am the rainbow of love. Even if things get stormy, you know you can count on me. Call me Roy G. Biv, and I’ll ride you like a pony.”
“My last name should be “Why,” because it is my destiny to question everything, including how to change my last name to one of the shortest questions and the question of all questions.”
“It’s very hard to whisper in your own ear. Love is an art, but as an artist, I guess I’m no Van Gogh.”
“Pa extended his paw as if to say, “I’m here, and I’m human.” What else could I do but say, “Meow.”
“She took off her red pants, the shade of ketchup, to reveal softly tanned legs, like two French fries. But when she brought up price, I knew she was too good to be true. She was definitely NOT off the dollar menu.”
“A one-winged bird does not fly south for the winter. It flies south, west, north, and east, over and over. That’s how I feel when I’m in love, only I walk.”
“I don’t look for faces in clouds, I look for clouds in faces. And the best place to look is at the face of my friend, Carl Cumulonimbus, who I nicknamed “Rain Factory,” because he’s always either in a dark and stormy mood, or crying heavily.”
“Sometimes I feel like I’m living in my father’s shadow. But then he takes a few steps, or bends down to stretch his back, and I get to enjoy the sunlight for a few moments.”
“I want to merge oven mitts with boxing gloves, so I could effectively, and safely, fight fires. After all, fire fighters make better lovers.”
“Sell canoes to those who are enduring a drought, and sell sunscreen to those suffering from flooding. But give love freely to all, because samples encourage sales.”
“If Twinkies grew on trees, as nature intended, then I would like to irrigate your fertile valley. When we make love, bring your own knitting equipment.”
“I went to Hallmark, but they don’t sell corridors there. I did, however, find a card that perfectly summed up our relationship. The card was blank.”
“Would you agree with the statement: Love is a hamburger? If yes, would you like to add cheese for only 99 cents?”
“An ideal first date should involve things like a candle-lit dinner, soft music, and a binary anal defibrillator, with a guest appearance by Renaldo.”
“When people say they don’t understand my generation, I like to point out that it’s not “my” generation. I’m only co-owner with a 50% stake.”
“If I’m having a conversation with my clone, am I having an interior dialogue externally?”
“To show you how much I love you, I’d take you to the moon and back. Or try to fake it in a film studio.”
“John Wilkinson invented the horizontal boring machine, and what a boring machine it was! In fact, it’s so boring that I think I’ll go to sleep now.”
“My life was unbalanced. That is, until I found love and grew a second leg.”
“My favorite smells are freshly baked bread, the pages of an old book, and they way my boss’ ass smells when he’s shouting at me.”
“An elephant walks into a bar, and the bartender asks, “What can I get for you?” The elephant replies, “Sex on the beach, please.” To which the bartender responds, “Sorry, but I’m afraid your penis is too big for me.” “That’s no problem,” the elephant says as he smiles, “how about a double shot of Don’t worry, I brought a few gallons of anal lube.”
“I’m a student of life. My own. So I’m also my own teacher.”
“She had breasts like deflated balloons, and nipples like the wrinkled and floppy part you put your mouth on to blow them up.”
“When two are united as one, I’ll be there. And so will someone else.”
“Here’s a list of three character qualities women should look for in a guy, in descending order: Looks like me, thinks like me, is me.”
“You can’t compare the taste of organic and non organic fruits and vegetables. Organic tastes like a ten-minute trumpet solo in your mouth, and non organic tastes like a thirty second tape recording that’s been listened to a thousand times.”
“Sitting down never feels so great as after standing for eight hours on someone’s testicles.”
“Your deodorant smells like my armpit. And yet I get no royalty from the manufacturer.”
“The only time I like traffic lights turning yellow or red is in the fall.”
“Today is 8-9-10. August, 9, 2010. So hooray for Chronologically Ascending Day!”
“Messages written across the chest of women’s t-shirts are great, because I can stare at their tits like they are literature.”
“In hospitality, people vacation where you live. And so when I stay home from work it’s like a double vacation.”
“Though my skull is the size of a soup bowl, everything in the universe—and more—can fit inside my imagination. And guess what? My imagination tastes like chicken noodle soup.”
“I’m always amazed that my twin has the same birthday as me, and that he doesn’t exist. I wonder if I exist?”
“If you say renewable, I’ll think energy. If you say fore, I’ll think play. If you say binary, I’ll think anal defibrillator.”
“If I share your bottle of beer, I’ll take the left side.”
“Receiving trophies is all about getting recognized. Wearing big sunglasses and a fake mustache is about not being recognized. Why not wearable trophies, so you can be recognizably unrecognizable?”
“A manmade waterfall that was half man, half waterfall would have a hard time going upstairs. Thank God for waterproof elevators!”
“Apricots are like cute furry pets you can eat—legally.”
“If taxis were patriotic symbols, I’d flag one down on the Fourth of July.”
“I’ll make a soup out of sound, and I’ll call it “Decibels.” You can get a cup or a bowl, a small or a large, and they’ll both have the same volume.”
“Your mother, my mother, and mother of pearl walk into a bar, and the bartender says, “Hello, dad, you look more like whiskey than I remember. Have you been tanning?” To which all three mothers respond, “The French Revolution was the best thing to ever happen inside a croissant the shape of the Fertile Crescent, with a flaky crust like a politician with dandruff.” Of course, when Orafoura told me this joke, I didn’t laugh, because I don’t like jokes involving politics, religion, or mother of pearl.”
“I am not who I pretend to be, even when I act like myself.”
“One of my hobbies is reading finance and economic books—at the strip club, where I “invest” my money.”
“We are the wire, and tomorrow is like yesterday with a furry back. Don’t pet me, Tuesday! Please don’t Wednesday with my emotions.”
“Have I ever been in love? Have your ears ever itched from inside your urethra?”
“I want instant coffee at the snap of my fingers that gives me more energy than that generated by a million snaps.”
“His voice is like 999 one-winged vultures, all flapping in unison, while 333 horned frogs croak in protest. My love must sound better to her.”
“Her mouth contorted, and the wrinkles around her lips were like the dunes of a frosted cupcake. And I just wanted to lick her living word machine (mouth).”