Sunday, December 12, 2004

The Story of Me

I should probably get around to telling you a little bit about myself. Unfortunately, my therapist tells me I have mentally "blocked out" the vast majority of my life. Therefore, I leave it to my official biographer, Sir Wilfred Toxolot, to tell you everything you would ever want to know about me:

Any account of the life of Bill Johnson should start at the beginning, which is the best place to start anything. One could start in the middle, but then one would have to ignore everything that happened before the middle, unless one employed several confusing flashbacks, but no one wants that. The end is no place to start either. For one thing, Bill's life hasn't ended yet, and he refuses to cooperate by providing a definite date when it will end. So let's start at the beginning.

Bill Johnson was born sometime in the early 1970's in or around the woods of Saskatchewan. Abandoned as an infant by his Gypsy parents, Johnson was raised in a log cabin by a pack of wild beavers. From these humble beginnings, he had no idea that he would be destined for greatness. This turned out to be a good thing, since such an idea would have led to bitter disappointment in his case. Still, Johnson has come a long way since his time with the beavers, though he is still known to occasionally knaw on a wooden pencil or piece of furniture.

Eventually, as happens to more people than one would think, Bill grew up. And, as many young men do, he sought the companionship of a young woman. Bill finally married his beautiful mail-order bride, Yudy, on April 19, 1999, the same day UPS delivered her. Later, the couple moved to sunny Orlando, FL, a small town famous for its prize-winning pecan pie and not much else. No other details about Johnson's life between the Beaver Years and the Orlando Period are known. This period is often referred to by scholars as the "Lost Years".

Upon arriving in Orlando, Johnson immediately sought to make a name for himself in a prestigious and lucrative career. But, after having had his application rejected by every fast-food establishment in the greater metro area, he finally was hired by a local telemarketing firm. Since then, however, his meteoric side-ways movement through that company has proven that he has the competence, intelligence, and work-ethic needed to barely avoid getting fired.

That, so far, is the story of Bill Johnson's life. But it is not the end of the story. No one knows what else lies in store for this young man. I can tell you this - biographers such as myself will have plenty more to write about him in the years to come. That is, of course, unless we have something more interesting to write about, which is very likely.

-WT

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2 Comments:

Blogger Johnson Girl said...

Baby Cakes,

You got our wedding date wrong! We got married on the 17 of April and not the 19.

Another example of a forgetfull husband.

Love Ya.

Yudy

1:01 PM  
Blogger Bill said...

It wasn't me! It was Sir Wilfred! I shall have to talk to him about that.

Though I'm surprised that is the only detail in the whole story you have an issue with.

1:27 PM  

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