JOJO THE CAT MAN
After recently returning from a stint in Europe, Warren sent us this story from his travels ...
I met a man with a heavy heart and a messy house. A very interesting man whose spirit had been forged by solitude and substances. His name is Jojo the cat man and he's a Swedish man. A real man's man. A weathered, passionate man who enjoys dip in his upper lip, talking loud to your soul, and squeezing his big fluffy cat with sincerity.
Jojo the cat man lives alone, deep in Stockholm, Sweden above a cafe where the hip and pretty sip lattes and listen to rock n roll. His voice will shake your insides and make your ears bleed. One night after a few drinks and a couple of meatballs, my good friend Dion Agius and myself accompanied Jojo the catman to his house for an "after party" with 3 eager fat girls. The fat girls are irrelevant. This story is about Jojo the catman.
Jojo's house was a stinky mess and he tip toed everywhere as if he might crack the floor. Weird pictures covered his butter stained walls that painted a life picture of odd. The decor of his low lit catman cave had one reoccurring theme: cats. Cat pillows, cat blankets, real cats, fake cats, cat food on the floor, cat food in the bathroom, cat litter in the kitchen. Jojo also speaks to people's souls. He's a soul whisperer. A reality rattler. I engaged Jojo for a bumbley alcohol-fueled convo only to have my world shocked to the bone. We bounced around drunken cliches, what do you do? where ya from? etc. Mostly my fault, because I was rudely and subconsciously patronizing him. Jojo sensed my belittling. "So what's with all the cats Jojo?" I asked. His face went somber and he starred intensely into my eyes for an awkward amount of time, eventually leaning in very slowly towards me. He grabbed the back of my neck sternly and pulled me eye to eye with him as if he were gonna lip fondel me like his fluffy cat. He starred deep into my soul and in his deepest raspiest voice, of a very low octave, he slowly muttered, "You're just as lonely as me aren't you surfer boy?"...... If he hadn't paralyzed me with fear I would have pooed my pants. His voice hauntingly pierced my brain and his stare saw through my soul. He was channelling the dark part of the universe with his cold voice and my mind went numb with thoughts of loneliness. I had not a response. "You're the owner of a big world of nothing aren't you?"...... "But you're pretty with tan skin so life's easy for you now isn't it surfer boy?"..... "Well what are you gonna do when all that pretty leaves you?" he asked with disdain. He pulled away just a tad and shook his long balding hair as if to show me what it looks like when the pretty leaves. He put his brown cat fur dusted dip lips right in my ear and slowly panted out these horrible words, "Well, that's when you better get a cat surfer boy." I went pale with fright. I also went home.