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.
“It’s December in Florida, and there are still a few leaves clinging on the branches for dear summer.”
“When people change, I’m disappointed they’re not who I remember them being. And when people don’t change, I’m disappointed they still are who they were. All people do is disappoint, and I do mean all people.”
“We have no secrets from each other, though sometimes I wish some things were more hidden. What’s more transparent than invisible?”
“I took my shoes for a walk. They’re furry and they bark.”
“It’s not if, but when I’ll if on you that matters. How does Tuesday at noon sound?”
“The Mythical Mr. Boo is so mythical the he always likes to be the centaur of attention.”
“His breath smelled like a one-inch tall man wearing stinky socks used his tongue as a treadmill. Talking to him only reminded me how out of shape I am.”
“I am upset. I have reservations about dinner for two at 8:00. I have reservations about my reservations.”
“Dear Ian, I felt good. I felt like a Christian to the T. Also to the Chris, Ian.”
“I carry a door with me wherever I go, because one, it’s symbolic for the opportunities that’ll open up for me, and two, I want to be the best door-to-door salesman who sells doors, so I carry a sample with me everywhere.”
“Book: Ten Steps to Asexuality and Financial Freedom, by Lonely Path”
“I can’t extrapolate a theory of what people would do based on the limited data set of what one person—myself—would do. That’s why I need clones, so I can more accurately gauge what large crowds of people would do in a given situation.”
“All the ideas in the universe can be described by words. Therefore, if you simply take all the words and rearrange them randomly enough times, you’re bound to hit upon at least a few great ideas eventually. Sausage donkey swallows flying guillotine, my love assembly line.”
“A trophy isn’t about the hardware, the gold-painted statue mounted on marble, it’s about the recognition of excellence. A trophy is a physical representation of the abstract concepts of hard work and dedication. And that’s precisely why I don’t have any trophies. ”
“I once tried out for the Girl Scouts. I only went to one meeting. I ate all their cookies and then left.”
“He’s a year shorter than me, but he’s a foot younger. I love him like the brother of an only child.”
“I’m a tiger made out of a paper towel, and I’m going to wipe you out.”
“I told her “Have a good weekend.” Then I thought, “Idiot. It’s Sunday night.”
“When I’m cold and I fart, I always admonish myself saying, “Stop! Close the back door. You’re letting all the cold air in.”
“I bought a big brown stuffed animal. You know, for dinner.”
“The flashing black line on an empty Word document reminds me that my life is counting down second by second, and that if I don’t write I’ll have wasted my time here on earth.”
“If you see me sitting at a dining room table with a clean plate and bowl in front of me, you’ll know it’s because I’m a starving artist. I’m also thirsty, as my cup is also empty.”
“I would crack a smile, but I don’t like breaking things.”
“Growing up, my bedroom was like a garage, only much smaller and with more lawnmowers in it (we had to store them there because the garage was crowded with the 14-person dining room table—despite there being only four of us in the house). I’m just thankful my parents didn’t park their cars in the living room.”
“In high school they called me “Pizza Face.” Not because I had bad acne, though I did, but because I always wore pepperoni and mushrooms on my face.”
“Yesterday was my last day at work. My coworkers were so sad they all pitched in and bought me a one-way ticket to Seattle, and a bottle of cyanide in case I get thirsty.”
“He was cold and ugly, so I lent him my invisible cloak. He was grateful and said if I was ever in the area again, I should try to find him.”
“Fight or flight? If I had wings, there’d be no choice. But since I don’t have wings, I have to rely on my cape, and a long running start.”
“I never speed, because if I get into an automobile crash and die, I don’t want to have arrived earlier than I was supposed to for my death.”
“I’d say if you’re using an avocado facial mask before you go to sleep, don’t complain when I want to bring tortilla chips to bed.”
“I saw a baby make a boom-boom in his diaper, and I thought, I’d never have suspected him of being a terrorist.”
“Art books are filled with interesting images. And that’s cool and all, but I look more for the nudes.”
“I’ll leave the door unlocked. Be sure to ring the doorbell before you climb in through the window.”
“I don’t collect awards, I collect empty trophy cases. Once my collection is large enough, I’m going to start collecting broken dreams.”
“His face is so chiseled and angular that if he stood on the street corner and blushed, oncoming traffic would come to a complete stop.”
“My cup is empty. I don’t think I’m wearing it in the right spot.”
“Dream headline from Orafouraville Times: Man Let Go By Employer, Falls To Death”
“One day I want to be so wealthy I can say to my wife, “let’s take a drive—to the end of our driveway and back” and have that be a two-hour round trip.”
“The only other man I’d let see my wife’s naked body is the butcher.”
“My wife keeps me busy while she talks—I’m not listening, but rather making the air masturbation gesture.”
“Some people collect stamps, while I collect letters. My favorite ones are the rare ones, like Q and X.”
“Writer’s block, I just drove around it four times. All my favorite writers live there.”
“I’m strapped for cash, and I’m also strapped to a chair in someone’s basement.”
“I want to publish a book on toilet paper—not only about toilet paper, but actually print it on toilet paper. That way nobody will be surprised by how shitty my book is.”
“The moon is an orbital albino, and it gets tons of sunlight, so I propose Operation Sunscreen, where astronauts coat the surface of the moon with a protective layer of sunscreen. If you care about albinos and the environment, you’ll see this is a good idea. And hey, it’s a better use of taxpayer funds than bailing out private banks. ”
“I wonder if rooms in an insane asylum have Do Not Disturb signs for the doors. I should hope not, because knock or no knock, every occupant in those rooms is already disturbed.”
“I ate Satan, and then shit out a snake.”
“You know that I know you know, but I want you to know that I know you know I know you know I know. It’s important for you to know that, you know?”
“Cats like to cuddle more than any other living creature, including zombies, which are only half dead.”
“Right now is the youngest I’ll ever be, so I suppose I’d better act immature while I still can.”