My second Fisher Price Post

So it's been nearly a year since I wrote the first Toilet Time for Tiny Town post, though the blog had a different name at the time. It's been a wild year for me, and as many of you know, a lot has taken place. Now I could use this opportunity to do a year in review re-cap, but TTFTT has a no true stories about the Editor's personal life policy, so instead of going through all the things that happened to me personally and have some depth, I'll refer to some random shit.


Remember when I had that staple remover that I drew googly eyes on? Somebody stole it from my desk. Who steals a staple remover?!? Commies, that's who.


One morning I woke up and it looked like it was raining outside. Turned out to be the largest fire in NY since 9/11. I was late to work because I kept walking towards the fire, like a moth to flame, so that I could get a better picture of it. It seemed so close, but like a rainbow, it was actually very far away... and marked a leprechaun's pot of gold... a leprechaun with pyromania.

On the way to a party I was walking down Berry St. and saw a girl stumble out of the record shop on Metropolitan, turn the corner and fall over puking. I thought to myself "I should help her" but it was 7:30 and anyone that gets that drunk by 7:30 doesn't deserve the help. People need to hit rock bottom before they can come back up.

Last New Years I tried to climb the two stories to get to the bedroom in Philadelphia where a bunch of my fellow party goers were singing songs. I thought it would be funny to pop my head in the window and make some faces. I made it a story and a half before I noticed a bunch of power lines blocking my ascent. Good thing I saw those.


I sang no Karaoke this year. Not one verse. You know why? I hate Karaoke.


During video gaga shows I pissed my pants, had a nose bleed, stabbed Dan McCoy to death, watched Dujeous do a live performance, met the Walkmen, called Sara the "C" word on more than one occasion, cried and tried desperately to impart a little bit of wisdom in an otherwise vapid show. But you know what really made my time with the show great? The slutty groupies.

Sometimes when you think about your life you can lose focus on the entirety because you're so caught up in the present situation. Charlie and I go to the Roebling tea Room a lot and reflect on this. I mean, there are times when I think "Kingman, what have you really done with your life? You're 27, single, working jobs you're over qualified for and disinterested in to boot. What have you really accomplished?" Well to myself I can only say this "Why don't you shut the fuck up you whiney little baby. You're John "Fucking" Kingman, a.k.a. Colonel Bastard, a.k.a. Margaret Thatcher."

Of course, I also made Toilet Time for Tiny Town what it is. A blog I write in when I'm bored at work.

Happy Holidays!!!