Startling New Evidence That Johnny Oops Is Real

I’ve heard the buzz lately that I’m not real. Just because I’m a fictional character in a novel called Johnny Oops doesn’t mean that I’m not real. The truth is that I am as real as you can conceive of me as being. I admit that there are times when even I question if everything that is happening to me is real, but isn’t this true of every one. Don’t we all question our identity? Don’t we all wonder at certain times if what is happening to us is real?

I think that’s why I spend so much time chasing after woman and having sex. I presume that is my subconscious mind trying to prove to me that I am real: that I’m a real man, that my attempts to become a prophet and have my own religion are not surreal.

Enough of these self doubts, I’m real and that’s the end of the discussion. I am just a genius who was put on this earth to deliver the ‘word’. I am the messenger. You better listen to what I have to say if you want redemption and salvation; that’s what I tell my flock.

I wish I believed everything I say. The truth is I’m not sure. I’m not sure I know what I’m talking about. I’m not sure I’m real. I’m not sure my ‘words’ of wisdom are the right ones. I’m confused. Can a guru and prophet in training be confused, or am I just a charlatan who is full of shit? I guess what happens next is going to help me find out. I hope it doesn’t involve having sex. I’m tired, of having to prove my existence this way.

The proof that I am real is the fact that you believe in me. You do believe, don’t you?

Pardon me for sharing my fears and doubts with you, but I am flying back to New York from California, first class of course, and I am bored. Even the stewardess doesn’t interest me. Wait a minute what is that crazy guy in the front of the plane doing? What is he waving? Is he trying to open the door? Oh my God, what is happening? I can’t hear anything. I guess I better take my earphones off. No one is listening to the movie anyway. What’s he shouting? This can’t be happening, not to me; I’m Johnny Oops, I am a guru. I’m a prophet in training. This is not part of the plan.

I don’t believe it, now he is motioning to me to come sit up front. Why me, maybe it’s the white suit I’m wearing. This is part of my guru uniform, its not supposed to get me in trouble. There are only four other people in first class; three business executives, and a middle aged woman who introduced herself to me earlier as the head of a charitable foundation for the benefit of the Hopewell Indians by the name of Sarah Dogood Little. The stewardess is cowering in fear in the last vacant seat in first class clutching the curtains tightly together that divide us from the common folk in coach so no one will see what is going on and panic. The pilot and co-pilot have locked themselves in the cockpit. I guess it is up to me to try and calm this maniac down, but why me dear God. Is this some kind of a test? I have to make a mental note to lose the white suit.

MLMF (More later my friends)