O Johnny Boy by Barry Eysman We report, with great sorrow, Johnny Boy, point man of the mob trying to find the elusive Helen Klausner of song and story, dined on fifteen blowfish, having been told the Maltese Klausner was in one of them, eating one blowfish too many, thus suffering gastronomical rooten tooten for something made of dreams and stardust .in this weird obsession to find this ticket out of their one horse town, thus, believing ,Ralph Kramden like, such idiocy. I, Joel, Holden announce to you today I am Helen Klausner. Having been clever enough to write reviews under the Joel, Holden name as well, said reviews always sinking to the bottom, thus bringing that “:fluff” accusation of reportage down in flames. Just how stupid are these people at every turn ? I played you for the schizoids you are. Thus having you looking at yourselves in the mirror unknowingly. I have praised to the heavens such books as those by George W. Bush, Ann Coulter, James Patterson, a book of horror stories edited by Bentley Little, Bentley Little, and your own damn selves. Since you have no earthly idea what my books and stories are, how can you say the links were nonsensical? Are you pulling a Klausner here ? If you will notice as many times as I can find a chance (And believe you me I find them.), I express myself as not a big fan of Stephen King. You’ve got my name wrong. and connections to each wrong, So I hereby tell you that your less than good natured humor, or the most screwed up attempts at investigative journalism ever, because I didn’t do what you wanted, has caused you to win the BILL O’LIELLY PUT THAT PIPE DOWN AND GET MY PIPE UP Award as the top of your breaking wind team as the best reporters this country has. I think I’ll go read a million books now, including seven of my own. I don’t dick around in reviews and grudge matches with a person who may, as you endeavor to prove,not exist. Don’t ask me, man to man, skulk in the shadows, like others of your ilk, I shall keep besting your cheap shots, word by word. Remember, write on the fourth grade level and absolutely everybody will understand what you say. I grew up, why don’t you? Will you ever be Johnny Mann? Soon you and your wharf rat buddies (and there seem to be tons of them) will resort to the dozens. I think the Bible refers to you as gabble gabble (well that’s from FREAKS) fools professing yourselves to be wise. I lied, I’m not Helen Klausner. I refer you to FAT OLLIE’S BOOK, sold here, for further explanation. I also remember a Bible verse about displaying one’s pearls before swine. I am just remembering is all. And who the hell is Johnny Boy? The son of Mr. and Mrs. Boy?