Pain in the Ass Magazine

by Jon Mullich on August 29, 2014

You people. I made one of my delightful Facebook cover images of my beloved pug Winston and me edited into a famous movie scene, this time the inevitable picture of us in the scene from Men in Black where Tommy Lee Jones and Will Smith are interrogating a pug at a magazine stand. To give the illustration some flavor in its detail, I included magazine covers of the flotsam and jetsam of humanity I associate with pictured on the cover of such wholesome periodicals as Glamour and People. It was only afterwards that I realized that there should be a magazine created to showcase these nimrods, so I’m proud to announce that Jonny Press® is introducing Pain in the Ass Magazine. This is a place where you can find out all the news about the irritants who ruin my life on a regular basis. I can’t imagine why anyone would be interested in this kind of crap but I’m hoping that it will be distracting to the jackals who swarm around me on the social network so that I can finally get some peace and quiet. They say that print is dead and this rag will be an excellent indication of why.

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The Friendly Skies

by Jon Mullich on August 22, 2014

Paul Messinger (R)
flying me to Camarillo

Paul Messinger, who supports me in the role of George Washington in Three Really Offensive Scenes About the Founding Fathers, the play I am currently starring in as Thomas Jefferson. Mr. Messinger is a licensed pilot and on Sunday he talked me into joining him for a flight to nearby Camarillo. I have always considered Mr. Messinger to be a terrifying individual, but never moreso than when I found him conveying me through the clouds at an altitude of 3,500 feet inside a sardine can with wings. To be sure, Mr. Messinger is a thoroughly experienced and responsible pilot and spent more time checking out the plane before we took off than we spent in the air. That didn’t mitigate my terror of the sight of a man I see on a regular basis depicting the father of our country getting high on hemp (an important plot device of our play, although Mr. Messinger already seemed awfully familiar with the physical effects of reefer use when we began rehearsing) blithely thumbing his nose at the law of gravity. It was a fairly uneventful flight (although Mr. Messinger might describe it differently after I acted out the classic Twilight Zone episode Nightmare at 20,000 Feet for his in-flight entertainment) and when the plane landed in Camarillo, I was so thrilled to still be unexpectedly alive that I got on my knees and made out with the asphalt of the runway like Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr in From Here to Eternity. Mr. Messinger allowed me to make a beeline for the airport bar and pound a few kamikazes before breaking the news that in order to get home, I would need to fly back with him on the return journey. In fairness, the flight back wasn’t as bad as all that. The plane’s baggage compartment turned out to be surprisingly comfortable.
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Massive, Turgid Man Meat

by Jon Mullich on August 15, 2014

An artist's conception of me writing today's Enemies List as the actresses of Eclect-a-Fest look on

The actresses of Eclect-a-Fest, the one-act play festival in which I star. The ladies of the respective casts have all inevitably fallen in love with me and I found myself holding court in the green room of the theatre (which in this case is the parking lot behind the stage door where some folding chairs have been set up) with each of them vying for my attention. The conversation ultimately came around to the ongoing staggering popularity of this blog and my ability to sustain its high quality week after week. I finally admitted (after much flirtatious prodding) that my secret is writing each entry stark naked, or as I explicitly phrased it, with my “massive, turgid man meat scraping against my desk.” This admission caused the women to squeal with delight like scandalized schoolgirls, and one of the more assertive of them immediately began to strategize a plan to insert the phrase “massive turgid man meat” into every presentation at some point during the evening. Sanity finally prevailed (a rare thing indeed among this collection of cackling yentas) and all of the plays were performed as written, with the only reference to my quivering genitalia showing up in the subtext of each actresses’ depiction of their various roles. At least that’s how I remember the evening taking place; when I woke up this morning with my usual hangover I found stuffed in my pocket a petition signed by all the actresses demanding my removal from the show along with a strongly-worded letter from the producers promising stern action against me if I continued to harass the ladies of the casts. That was clearly a practical joke played against me that I’m sure we’ll all have a good laugh about when I’m holding court in the green room at the next performance. As a treat to them, I’ll be hanging out stark naked with my man meat in full view. It may not be as massive as I originally promised but if the air pump I ordered online does what it claims to do, at least it will be turgid.
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Suicide is Painful

by Jon Mullich on August 12, 2014


Robin Williams, who committed suicide yesterday. I just saw Life Itself, the moving documentary about film critic Roger Ebert who not only clung tenaciously to life after suffering from debilitating health problems that caused him to endure immeasurable pain and loss, but actually managed to find a poetry in his travails. It is difficult for me to reconcile Mr. Ebert’s inspiring heroism in the face of such adversity with Mr. Williams’ defeat and betrayal of his family, friends and admirers at surrendering to it. I have known many people – far too many – who have taken their own lives, and my experience is that whenever someone takes that drastic step, it rips such a massive hole in the fabric of humanity that the damage it leaves behind is far more devastating than the pain that drove them to it. My own aunt killed herself and my mother would wake up screaming her name decades later; I have found this lingering agony to be common amongst those who are forced to pick up the pieces after suffering the suicide of someone who has touched their lives. It has caused me to realize that we are not the owners of our own lives, but merely their caretakers charged with guiding our existences through the most rewarding path our judgment finds fit to take them through. But our lives belong to every soul who interacts with them throughout the course of our brief stay on earth. You may condemn me for not having compassion for the agonies that drove Mr. Williams to that heinous act, but I would respond that my compassion would have no limits so long as he had the courage that Roger Ebert did to fight them; if not for his own sake, then for the sake of the people who loved him. Once he chose to end his suffering by hitting the self-destruct button, my compassion was transferred to those who must suffer the consequences for that momentary act of self-obsession, for their pain will endure throughout the course of their lifetimes.

The father of a close friend of mind was driven into near-despair when a combination of anti-depressants and alcohol convinced him that the only way to end his suffering was to put a gun to his head and blow his brains out. A kind angel was looking over him that night because just as he pulled the trigger, his hand trembled and the bullet was propelled harmlessly into a wall. When his wife came running down the stairs to find out what had happened, he looked at her sheepishly and said “that was the dumbest thing I ever did in my life.” I’d like to think that if Robin Williams could take a do-over on that one tragic moment when his life seemed like a pit of agony and his only salvation was his own annihilation, he might be touched by that same kind angel who rescued my friend’s father and realize that for all its pain and struggle, every moment of life is a divine gift that should never be taken for granted. The way he chose to confront his pain was a mistake, and it was a mistake that will tear asunder the lives of those who cared for him until the end of time.

As we enjoy the gift of our lives today, I hope that we will take our responsibilities as their caretakers seriously and live them with the honor and fearlessness that the people around us – the true owners of those lives – have come to deserve. And when it is time for our lives to end – hopefully long in the future – I hope that our survivors will remember us as people who faced adversity with courage, tenacity, and compassion. When we faced it, we faced it together. And we arrogantly thumbed our noses at it until our dying breaths.

Life is hope. Have a nice day.

The Sexiest People on Facebook

by Jon Mullich on August 8, 2014

The sexiest people on Facebook

Enemies List favorite Mara Marini. I recently posted a scene from a romantic painting featuring Ms. Marini and myself on Facebook, along with which I announced the tally for a vote deciding on the sexiest people on the social networking site in which we won in a landslide. True, the vote took place in my living room at 2:00 a.m. after a night of binge drinking and crying and my pug Winston and I were the only two participants. But it was still a vote. My reasons for selecting Ms. Marini and myself were based on purely mathematical calculations: she figures in easily 75% of my masturbatorial fantasies while I am included in an astonishing 100% of them. No male comes remotely close to my figures when I lay them out on a spreadsheet, and Ms. Marini’s nearest competition came from circa 1975 Linda Ronstadt and the cute redhead checker who smiles at me sometimes at Ralph’s, who each appear in paltry 6% of my erotic fantasies. Numbers don’t lie and when confronted with statistics like that, it is impossible to deny that we are the most desirable people on the social network. In fact, the only other dude who even got any consideration was the college kid who used to live down the hall from me and occasionally shows up unexpectedly in my fantasies as a pizza delivery boy. I have no idea what that’s about and I’m always pretty shaken up by it during the afterglow but I’m not going to worry about it. When you’re the sexiest man on Facebook, you have more important things to think about. Like what my next sexual fantasy about Mara Marini will be. Maybe we’ll just stay in and order a pizza.
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Fucking John Adams in the Ass

by Jon Mullich on August 1, 2014

Kerr Lordygan and myself
bring history to life

Tom Ashworth. I opened last night in Three Really Offensive Scenes About the Founding Fathers, a comedy that Mr. Ashworth directed as part of the Eclect-a-Fest series of one-act plays which contains a memorable scene of Thomas Jefferson (played by your humble correspondent) sexually relieving himself in the anal cavity of John Adams (essayed by Kerr Lordygan). It is ironic that I was the one asked to act out that graphic bit of business since Mr. Ashworth has been figuratively violating my rectum throughout the entire rehearsal process; mainly by asking me to perform so many perversions that if they had actually taken place during the writing of the Declaration of Independence, this country would have a hell of a lot more fathers than George Washington. Much to my relief, the audience devoured Ms. Ashworth’s disturbing handiwork like James Madison choking down one of his wife Dolly’s delicious pies and I found myself in the unaccustomed position of being cheered for performing debaucheries that usually result in my spending the night in county lockup. After it was all over, Mr. Ashworth blamed the sickness that had been unfolding onstage on me by posting on his Facebook wall “Jon’s insanity has taken over the entire evening like a cancer…a very funny cancer but still…” But believe me; after fucking the second president of the United States in the ass, cancer wasn’t the disease that I was worried about.

Three Really Offensive Scenes About the Founding Father plays Thursdays and Saturdays at 8:00 and runs until September 6th. Tickets can be ordered here. [click to continue…]

True Tales of Jonny

by Jon Mullich on July 25, 2014

Jonny in the City by the Bay

Between my trip to San Francisco earlier this week to my preparing to open in Three Really Offensive Scenes About the Founding Fathers (part of Eclect-a-Fest) next Thursday, I didn’t have time to crap out my regular list this week. I know how important these pages are to your barren lives though and I didn’t want to leave you complete hanging, so Mad Beast International is excited to announce the premiere of True Tales of Jonny Magazine.

The periodical recounts actual stories from my life, such as the maiden issue which describes the time I saved Mara Marini from a gorilla and she thanked me with sex. Future issues relate such Jonny anecdotes as the occasion I dubbed the singing of Jonny Award winner Jesse Merlin when his voice was deemed just not good enough, the time I saved Mara Marini from a herd of stampeding rhinos and she thanked me with sex, when Bro Joe came crawling to me on his hands and knees to tell me how inferior he is to me in every way, the time I saved Mara Marini from a gang of attacking ninjas and she thanked me with sex, how my nemesis Misty LaRue decided to take a vow of silence and swore never to utter another word, or the time I saved Mara Marini from an invasion of Nazi storm troopers and she thanked me with sex. All of these stories are told exactly as I remember them after a week of binge drinking and forgetting to take my medication.

Look for the premiere issue of True Tales of Jonny on your newsstands soon. In the mean time, don’t forget to buy your tickets to see me in Eclect-a-Fest. Especially Mara Marini. I expect that she’ll enjoy it so much that she’s going to thank me with sex.

True Tales of Jonny

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Playing with Washington’s Nipple

by Jon Mullich on July 18, 2014

The official poster for

Eclect-a-Fest, a series of one-act plays performing at the Eclectic Company Theater in which I am the main attraction, starring as a bisexual Thomas Jefferson in the featured event of the evening, Three Really Offensive Scenes About the Founding Fathers. The three-actor play (in which I am supported by Kerr Lordygan as John Adams and Paul Messinger as George Washington) depicts some hitherto unknown details about the writing of the Declaration of Independence. To give you an idea of what director Tom Ashworth is wasting my epic talents on, during a break in the rehearsal I found myself writing the following stage direction in my script: “Play with Washington’s nipple.” I have been acting, off and on, for about forty years now, but until I hooked up with Ashworth & Company, I never expected to find myself writing the stage direction “Play with Washington’s nipple,” least of all when the nipple is attached to Mr. Messinger (a former Olympic swimmer whose nipples have gone through so much plumpage and shrinkage from getting in and out of swimming pools that they can stand just about anything.) Performances are July 31 through September 7 on Thursdays and Saturdays at 8:00. At least that’s when Three Really Offensive Scenes about the Founding Fathers plays; there are other one-acts being performed on Fridays and Sundays. I can’t vouch for those shows because I haven’t seen them yet and I don’t know which historical figures are having their nipples played with.

More about Eclect-a-Fest can be found here. [click to continue…]

The Return of Professor Morlock

by Jon Mullich on July 11, 2014

The Professor Morlock lunchbox

I continued my obsession with the fictional Professor Morlock series of horror films by creating a catalogue of Morlock merchandising products, including trading cards, lunchboxes, and even a Professor Morlock board game. What annoys me about the merchandise is that that there are four principal characters in the Morlock series: the unspeakably evil professor (depicted by Jesse Merlin); ace investigative reporter Janet Lawton (as embodied by Enemies List favorite Mara Marini), a woman with a penchant for getting tied up in only her underwear; Amanda Globe (Amy Ball), a former nurse at the insane asylum that Morlock was confined to who was later enslaved by him and went on to develop super powers after living on an alien planet; and Jack Mannix (portrayed by myself), a no-nonsense cop who is Miss Lawton’s love interest who serves as a dues ex machina by busting in on Morlock’s nefarious schemes at the last minute and blows him back to hell.

The Professor Morlock bobblehead vs. the Jack Mannix bobblehead:
you decide

What annoys me about all this is that while the Morlock crap depicting the professor, Janet Lawton, and Amanda Globe are all met with responses of “I wish that was real so I could get one,” the Jack Mannix memorabilia bearing my classic features is met with a resounding yawn. Even a Morlock set of trading cards that featured all the characters got more reaction from a Winston the Wonder Pug card that was included than the one of me as Mannix. But I am nobody’s fool and I’m well aware of what you cretins are hungry for, so the next Morlock item that is being rolled out is a series of Morlock bobbleheads. Sex sells so while the other characters will be depicted in their iconic costumes, the Mannix bobblehead will be buck naked. It might put me at an unfair advantage, but when you’re competing against a thousand year-old mad scientist who rises from hell on a regular basis, you need all the help you can get.

The complete catalogue of Professor Morlock merchandising product can be seen here.

The Professor Morlock model kit from Aurora

The Professor Morlock model kit from Aurora

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Professor Morlock

by Jon Mullich on July 4, 2014

A publicity still from “The House of Professor Morlock”

Professor Morlock. I wasted my entire weekend creating a collection of movie posters depicting the rise and fall of a series of horror flicks that told the story of a thousand year old insane scientist who had a penchant for transplanting the brains of gorillas into sexy young women and who ended every film being killed and sent back to hell. Depending on the entry’s budget, he was pursued by ace investigative reporter Janet Lawton (played by superstar Mara Marini, whose monumental salary and costly entourage meant that she only appeared in the most expensive movies), who was always suffering being tied up while wearing lingerie and for a couple of the movies was the victim of a nymphomaniac curse that forced her to perform unimaginable sexual perversions on her love interest, no-nonsense cop Jack Mannix (portrayed by myself, thank God). Morlock’s perpetual victim was former insane asylum nurse Amanda Globe (played by Amy Ball), who turned the table on the professor during the course of the movies when she traveled to a foreign planet and acquired super powers which allowed her to return to earth and do battle with her tormentor. The other recurring character was Morlock’s evil henchman Ruprecht , who was usually played by Tom Ashworth (who, because of a scandal over his addiction to reefer that derailed his career, was willing to work for a boxed lunch and deferred pay), although as the budget were raised in later entries they got better people than Ashworth like veteran character actors Steve Peterson and Robert DeNiro, or most desirably (in the case of Professor Morlock’s Daughter) nobody at all.

Jesse Merlin as
Professor Morlock

Holding it all together was Jesse Merlin as the villainous and supernatural Professor Morlock, the only actor to appear in all eight films (although his appearance in Professor Morlock’s Ghost was edited together from archival footage and outtakes from past entries after he refused to be in any more) who loathed the role because he considered it hack work and he couldn’t stand the other actors, especially me. Much like the victims of Morlock’s paranormal spells, I became obsessed with making these idiotic posters and for a few days could focus on nothing else. I created intricate back stories for each film and actor because I found their realities much more compelling than the one I am living in. I’m not sure why, because all of the characters biographies are based in fact: Ms. Marini really is an erotically white hot megastar, Ms. Ball really does have super powers, Mr. Merlin really can’t stand me, and Mr. Ashworth usually does work for a boxed lunch and deferred pay when he can get it. In fact, the only major difference I can find between the world of Professor Morlock and mine is that Ms. Marini has never performed a single unimaginable sexual perversion on me. But I go to the movies to get away from reality.

The entire Professor Morlock saga can be seen here. [click to continue…]