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 look at a woman’s shoes, not to tell how sexy she is, but to determine how sexy she feels.”
“People call me “Mustache,” because I have an eyebrow on my upper lip. When I close my lips it’s like a wink and a kiss combined. It’s like lust overload.”
“Instead of a motorcycle gang, I’m thinking of starting up a unicycle gang. We’ll be hell on wheel. (My first recruit will be a woman named Helen Wiel.)”
“I left the door open so you could come in—and I could go out. That’s what being in love is all about.”
“I’m in the Just Under A Decade club. That’s how long it took me to get a four-year degree.”
“Maybe I could hear better if my ears weren’t flipped inside out. Unlike a cat’s ears, you can’t tell mine are flipped over. But they must be, because I only seem to listen to myself. ”
“Show me how to lactate, and I’ll be the best mother a father could be.”
“If I walked in on two of my clones having sex, I’d think it was gay, incestuous, and just plain rude to have not invited me.”
“Too much coffee has been spilled in the name of war. Let us love and savor every drop.”
“There’s nothing more important than literary merit, and that’s why I not only created an award—the Julius Caesar Author of the Year Award—but I nominated myself as the first recipient. You can’t always wait for success to come to you. Sometimes you just have to create it out of nothingness. Just ask the Federal Reserve.”
“I fight with the strength of many lion meows. I love even more ferociously.”
“Jarod Kintz is a friend, a lover, and a loner. Jarod Kintz talks about Jarod Kintz, because Jarod Kintz has nobody else to talk to. Jarod Kintz is also a liar and a thief, and that’s why I think he’d make a great politician. ”
“I want to open up a School of Cannibalism. It’ll be a feeder school for top law schools.”
“Ah, the good ol’ days. I remember those days. That was before your time. It was before my time too, because I didn’t have a watch, and I hadn’t been born yet.”
“I’d say my writing voice is original, and I don’t think you’ll find another quite like it. This makes me sad, because when all my clones arrive sometime in the future, their only hope is to try to copy me. ”
“I’m twice as old as she is tall. She’s half my age in height. We have a David and Goliath kind of love.”
“I make love alone, because it’s one person faster than two.”
“I love ebooks. I love the idea of storing books in “The Cloud”, because honestly, reading and rainy days go together like peanut butter and umbrellas.”
“Bestseller doesn’t necessarily mean good writer. I think it takes 10,000 book sales to make the bestseller’s list, and at about 9 dollars a pop for my book, if I had an extra $90,000 dollars of disposable income, I’d be a bestseller tomorrow. But would I be a better writer? No, I’d be a poorer writer—about $75,000 dollars poorer.”
“My #love stories have happy endings, because I stop the tales before dejection, dementia, and death occur.”
“My favorite pen is my penis. Put my words in your mouth.”
“I am not the No Factory I yessed into existence. I love with an intensity that needs to be felt to be purred.”
“Tomorrow’s Pancake Friday, despite the fact that it’s Monday, and I don’t eat breakfast.”
“The picture is grainy. But that’s to be expected when photographing bread.”
“At the Peabody Hotel, you’ll find two things: a pea and a body. Was it murder by starvation? Come spend the night and decide for yourself. ”
“There are days when I don’t know how I live with myself. Those days are Sundays through Saturdays.”
“I am but a flower. Do with me what thou wilt.”
“Wealth—one billion, two billion, what’s the difference? The difference is one billion—the same difference as flat broke, like me, and one billion.”
“Life’s like brown sugar sprinkled on shit. Sure it tastes great, if you don’t mind the smell.”
“Everybody has a past—even if it lies in the future.”
“I’m too impatient to be impatient, as impatience often wastes time through repetition and redundancy.”
“A high five is a two-person applause. Me and my clone will be excited to clap for you after we present you with the Julius Caesar Author of the Year Award. Keep up the great writing!”
“A flower blooms in my heart. You may call that love, but I call it water conservation.”
“I moved my hand in and out of the shadow and pondered life and death. Then I put on my lipstick, pulled up my pants, and got back to work.”
“Surrealist Tip # 7: Sleep through numbers 1-6. Write down your dreams while you sleep, sleep as fast as you can, but try not to get a ticket—and don’t let the honking of other drivers wake you up.”
“My eyes were blurry from being in love, and my feelings were as furry as Bigfoot. I thought I spotted Her, the women of my dreams, but the other cryptozoologists thought I was hallucinating. They chided me saying, “If there is no picture, there is no proof.”
“Let’s all roll up our sleeves and get back to work. Or let’s create jobs where other people roll up other people’s sleeves, so these other people can get to work helping other people get to work. That’s brilliant. I should be a politician.”
“I walk with a purpose. And a limp. (The limp helps serve my purpose, which is to gain sympathy.)”
“She’s the kind of woman where if you give her an inch, she’ll take the whole penis. She took all I had, and she didn’t even take me out to coffee.”
“I serve the people. Am I a politician? No, I’m just a greedy and corrupt waiter.”
“As a storyteller, I appreciate a great tale. As a cat lover, I appreciate a great tail.”
“She doesn’t return my phone calls. I’d like them back, unopened.”
“I’d love to be a color commentator, but I can’t, because I’m white, and white isn’t a color.”
“I got tapped for the job position. As soon as I felt it on my shoulder, I turned around and my boss told me.”
“Aside from myself, there aren’t too many people trying to be me. That may change in the future, when all my clones arrive.”
“I have nothing, so I think having something would mean everything to me. But I don’t want to get to the point where I have everything, so having something would mean nothing to me.”
“Between hello and goodbye is I love you.”
“The only thing I have left to remember her by is the scent of her perfume. I just broke into her car and stole the bottle.”
“I would rather save a few seconds than a few cents. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m saving them in your sofa cushions.”
“When I was a concierge, I didn’t want a guest’s gratitude. I wanted gratuity. A thank you and a warm smile are always made warmer by a transfer of money.”