Jarod Kintz

“My hush is lush. It’s drunk on its own greenness, just as I’m drunk on my blue silence. What would you say if I asked you to turquoise?”

“If footballs were the size of acorns, they’d be easy to lose in the forest. Virginity is also easy to lose in the forest, and mine, believe it or not, was shaped like an acorn.”

“My list of chores is a little too important to include in my list of life’s goals.”

“I wish success could be ordered like delivery pizza, because I’d order take out.”

“I think I just inhaled a cloud. That’s what I get for not wearing a gas mask while riding my Pegasus.”

“There is until there isn’t. That’s just the way it is. Until it isn’t.”

“When love dissipates, it’s like dancing with daisies at midnight, and you don’t get easy at it when you’re deceased. And make no mistake, you will die before romance will.”

“I can’t swim, because despite my love being shaped like Michael Phelps, it’s so heavy it’s like an anti flotation device. If I can barely even carry it, I can understand how it’s a burden to you and why you don’t want to keep it in your heart.”

“Of all the pessimistic people, I am the most optimistic. I look forward to looking down on all the people looking up to me for answers from below.”

“I’ll make fun of him, but I’ll call him Him, because if I use his name I’ll immortalize him. After all, who is he? He’s merely my clone.”

“I can tell time, but I can’t tell time to stop or fuck off.”

“I wanted to write “I Want” because wanting is one of the things I want most in life.”

“Jarod Kintz likes writing about himself in the third person, because he really relates to the third person. The odd man out. If two is company, then the first person and the second person are just fine together. But why is the third person always hanging around? Jarod often feels like that outsider, the person on the smallest pedestal, the bronze medalist of personal pronouns. If the third person makes you feel like she-it, then maybe you can relate to some of Jarod’s work.”

“The Bronze Age was such a third-place era.”

“I wanted to write something that made no linear sense. None. Zero. Something that was 87% pure nonsense, 12% pure alcohol, and 3% orange juice, for a chaser. That formula is accurate, give or take 2% for the milk. In my experience, comedy is 2/3rds tragedy, and one third 33.3 percent. And tragedy started at birth, so humor involving babies is probably the funniest. But even though I didn’t write anything about babies, you might laugh so hard that you’ll regret not wearing a diaper while reading.”

“Why watch reality TV when I can just open my blinds and look out my window to all the reality I can handle?”

“I wrote half this book (the left half) while I was asleep, and I wrote the other half (the top half) while daydreaming. So here we have a case where two halves equal one quarter, which is about what this book is worth—give or take 25 cents.”

“From afar they looked like sexy legs, until I got closer and saw they belonged to a man, not an Amanda.”

“The best description of this book is found within the title. The full title of this book is:"This is the story my great-grandfather told my father, who then told my grandfather, who then told me about how The Mythical Mr. Boo, Charles Manseur Fizzlebush Grissham III, better known as Mr. Fizzlebush, and Orafoura are all in fact me and Dora J. Arod, who sometimes shares my pen, paper, thoughts, mind, body, and soul, because Dora J. Arod is my pseudonym, as he/it incorporates both my first and middle name, and is also a palindrome that can be read forwards or backwards no matter if you are an upright man in the eyes of God or you are upside down in a tank of water wearing purple goggles and grape jelly discussing how best to spread your time between your work, your wife, and the toasted bread being eaten by the man you are talking to who goes by the name of Dendrite McDowell, who is only wearing a towel on his head and has an hourglass obscuring his “time machine”--or the thing that he says can keep him young forever by producing young versions of himself the way I avert disaster in that I ramble and bumble like a bee until I pollinate my way through flowery situations that might otherwise have ended up being more than less than, but not equal to two short parallel lines stacked on top of each other that mathematicians use to balance equations like a tightrope walker running on a wire stretched between two white stretched limos parked on a long cloud that looks like Salt Lake City minus the sodium and Mormons, but with a dash of pepper and Protestants, who may or may not be spiritual descendents of Mr. Maynot, who didn’t come over to America in the Mayflower, but only because he was “Too lazy to get off the sofa,” and therefore impacted this continent centuries before the first television was ever thrown out of a speeding vehicle at a man who looked exactly like my great-grandfather, who happens to look exactly like the clone science has yet to allow me to create”

“I like transparent boxes, so would-be thieves can see what’s inside. Deception by invisibility—the walls are invisible, and that makes the contents inside visible, and therefore invisible, because people look but they don’t see, as they assume nothing of value would be out in the open.”

“My mother-in-law scared the hell out of me. But it’s cool, because the stench of Satan reminds me of her anyways. Hungry? Deviled eggs anyone?”

“Cupid, that chubby cherub love dispenser, is dead. But before he died, he appointed me his apprentice in love. I loved Cupid, and that was precisely why I killed him. I strangled him. Then I shot him 17 times with his heart-shaped arrows. Then I burned his body while I roasted and toasted marshmallows and toasted to the good times he brought to the world. Then I took his ashes and mixed them in cake batter and literally consumed him. Mark it down: I have officially taken over as the foremost authority on love. I can't fly around like he could, but I have other endearing qualities. I can’t think of any at the moment, but I must have some.”

“Labels are necessary, for dating purposes. I’m not talking about gay versus straight. I’m talking about milk versus its expiration.”

“I wrote this piece because my mailbox was full of bills, junk mail, and lettuce, but not a single letter from Andre Breton. So I decided I’d write to him (though I did eat my first two drafts).”

“It must be awful to be on a team with a superstar, someone much better than everyone else. At least that’s how my teammates must feel about me. But who cares? They’re just my clones.”

“I didn’t write this piece to attract a potential mate, as the title might lead a reader to believe. That said, I like long walks on the beach, cuddling by the fire, and watching silent movies at full volume and then screaming into the phone when anybody calls. If interested, please send a brief e-mail to [email protected] telling a little about yourself, and why you think I’m perfect for you.”

“People come and people go, but only a magical person can come and go at the same time.”

“I found Waldo. He was in a strip club. He was hard to spot, because he’d already stripped off his red and white striped sweater and was all sweaty.”

“I decided to write this piece because my internal critic told me to write it. At least I think he told me to write it. You see, he only speaks French, and I don't speak any French, so sometimes there can be a lot of confusion. In fact, all I really know about Pierre is that he loves wine, croissants, and women with hairy armpits.”

“This work is the link between my Dear Natalie piece and my upcoming Agatha work. It bridges that lapse in time and shows how my thinking has changed. It shows me telling a story through the surreal and trying to use thought fragments alone to show a tortured existence. This piece was written after the Dear Natalies and before the Agatha mystery, but it is meant to be read after you’ve already read both.This book is a bridge between two books, which would make it a bridge between two bridges. That’s strange, but I’ve seen stranger. Like the time I woke up in a fish tank, having morphed into a goldfish during my sleep. I still fear the sound of a flushing toilet, and since then I refuse to let myself fall asleep while wearing flippers.This book is 3,088 words of pure nonsense, strung together like pearls hurled at bacon. Yum!”

“This book comes with its very own logo (logo sold separately).”

“I wrote this because someone put a gun to my head and said, “Write.” And do you know how long it takes to type with one hand while your other hand is shaking from holding a loaded Sig Sauer? Well, at least twice as long.”

“I’ll grab my crotch at you. It’s a greeting, like hello, only more provocative and inviting.”

“I’m hiding in plain sight. I’m right behind my clone.”

“In my view, a Cyclops is halfway to being blind. Love sees all. When someone insults me and I go silent, I’m in Helen Keller mode. Listen!”

“I’m not rich in paper money, I’m rich in packets of sugar. Actually, I’m richer, because at least the packets of sugar have some real value.”

“I also should have come up with a product description.”

“I’m going to count to three, and if you’re not on number four by the time I’m done, I’m going to continue counting without you. Love waits for none.”

“Jarod Kintz was born in Salt Lake City to a family of five. One father, and four mothers. Jarod moved around a lot as a kid, but eventually ended up in the middle bedroom. Being an only child, Jarod has been known to tell people, “I’m genetically half non-existent, on my brother’s side.” Well, enough about me, let me tell you about my work. Actually, I'll let it speak for myself. So read it and find out what it says. Or, rather, what I say it says.”

“Whether you’re being good, or you’re up to no good, try not to look guilty.”

“When I was a kid, I’d leave my door cracked with a piece of lint on top, and if I came home and the lint was on the floor, I’d know there’d been an intruder in my room. Of course, I shared a room with the washer and dryer, so this led to many false accusations.”

“Have you ever wanted to learn Geometry, Calculus, Physics, German, and the mystical teachings of Orafoura? Well, now you can! Just not with this book. Well, except for the mystical bit. This book is guaranteed to cost you, or your money back. If there is ever a book that deserves to be burned, this is it. And while you are lighting a fire, why don't you also set your imagination ablaze? You can start by taking a gasoline shower and sprinting naked through Flint, Michigan. Or Phoenix. After all, the only way you'll ever be able to reach your true potential is with a stepladder and a stretch.”

“I drink hot coffee in the summer, and iced coffee in the winter. I’m a contrarian, and contrary to popular belief I'm not a sellout. I rent.”

“This book has nothing to do with cats. Or mice. Or self-motivation. This book is 100% 50% finished. But don’t worry, I finished the good half. But don’t be mistaken—the good half isn’t good at all. In fact, it’s remarkably terrible. It’s only good in relation to the half I didn’t get around to writing. After all, the worst writing is the writing that couldn’t be bothered to be written down.”

“There’s moisture in my madness. I should start keeping my insanity in Tupperware containers.”

“2021—will it be a good year, or will it be just another two consecutive numbers?”

“Me and Ruth minus Ruth leaves me Ruthless—and makes me ruthless.”

“This book is destined to make waves no matter which ocean you throw it into. This is the first book Jarod's put together, mainly because he had such a hard time figuring out how to glue the pages to the spine. You'll laugh as you explore the mind of a madman as he emails seemingly random companies and institutions about bizarre things, and strange suggestions. With his surreal thoughts and ideas, Jarod paints a picture so vividly in the reader's mind that they'd think he was actually using their gray matter as a canvas. But don't worry, you can read this knowing that he will not spill paint on your favorite shirt. If laughing were a buffet, you'll eat so much with this book that you'll throw up. I recommend you read this book over a toilet.”

“There are 365 days in a year, and 360 degrees in a circle. Coincidence? I think not. Really, I didn’t think, and that’s why this is so dumb.”

“I’ll write the time on my wrist, and I’ll cover it up by wearing a watch.”