It’s your old pal Baked Potato Johnson here with a heartfelt history of my dear son. Let me tell you, my friend, that the day I discovered my son was like no other. It all started when I was out in my potato field, tending to my crops as usual. I had been growing all kinds of potatoes - Russets, Yukon Golds, Fingerlings - you name it. And that's when I noticed something strange.
One of the potatoes had started to sprout tendrils and grow in a strange, humanoid shape. I couldn't believe my eyes - I had never seen anything like it before. I knew in my heart that this was no ordinary potato. This was my son.
At first, I thought it was just my imagination playing tricks on me. But as he grew older, I realized that he was indeed a very unique being. For one, he doesn't speak like other children. Instead, he communicates through a series of grunts and groans that only I can understand.
From that day on, I dedicated my life to raising my potato golem son, and let me tell you, it hasn't been easy. People in town thought I was crazy for claiming that a potato was my son. My ex-wife thought I had lost my mind, insisting that it was just a regular potato and that I needed to seek help, but I knew the truth - that my potato golem son was real, and that he was destined for great things.
An interesting quirk Baked Potato Johnson Jr has is that he has an insatiable hunger for potatoes. He can eat an entire sack of potatoes in one sitting, and he still asks for more. I often worry about the effect this will have on his health, but he insists that potatoes are the only food he needs to survive.
But perhaps the most interesting quirk of my potato golem son is his tendency to unionize everything in sight. No matter where he goes, he finds a way to organize the workers and demand fair treatment. I once took him to a fast food restaurant, and before I knew it, he had rallied all the employees and was leading them in a strike for better wages and working conditions.
I know it sounds strange, but I couldn't be prouder of him. He is a true champion of the working class, and his anarchic spirit inspires me every day. I believe he is destined for great things, and when he told me that he was not only my son, but also a god, well, that was when everything changed.
You see, my son the potato golem had a vision - a vision of a world without fascism, without oppression, without the ruling class. And he knew that he was the key to making that vision a reality.
Together, we started experimenting with different potato-based technologies, including the potato time machine. We traveled through time, gathering knowledge and weapons to use against the fascist menace. He even fought in world war 2 for the soviet union!!
Baked Potato Johnson Jr., was a hero to the people there. They saw him as a savior, an oddity that could help them win the war. But it wasn't easy for him. The Soviet officials distrusted him at first, as he was both a potato and an anarchist.
But he persisted, and soon they saw the error of their ways. They came to love him for his unwavering dedication to his socialist principles, his willingness to fight valiantly against fascists, and the unhinged joyful gurgles he screamed out as he killed his way through a platoon of Nazis.
My potato golem son lead the charge in battle after battle. His potato skin was impervious to bullets, and his starchy innards provided him with a nearly infinite source of energy.
The Soviet people even gave him a new name - "Kartofel", which means "potato" in Russian. They even gave him a medal of honor made of pure gold, shaped like a potato, shaped like his heart.
Eventually our potato time machine broke down, leaving us stranded in the present day. It's been difficult adjusting to this new world without the Soviet Union, I feel like a stranger in a strange land. It's like we don't belong here, like our purpose has been taken away. I have to tell myself that we have each other, and that is enough.
Sometimes I hear Baked Potato Johnson Jr. talking to himself, grunting about the good old days in Moscow and the power of the workers. I know he misses it too. But we keep pushing on, spreading the message of unions and anarchism wherever we can. Baked Potato Jr. may be a potato, but he has a heart of gold and a mind full of revolutionary ideas.
I may never see the Soviet Union again, but I will never forget the love and respect they showed my son. And I will never stop fighting for the things we believe in, even if it's just the two of us against the world without my ex-wife.
Let me tell you, it's a good thing my ex-wife left. She couldn't handle the truth of my son's divinity or our mission to fight fascism. She was brainwashed by MK Ultra, just like so many others in this world. I don’t hate her for it, she just didn’t know any better.
But we won't let them stop us. My son and I, along with our potato comrades, are on a mission to create a world of true equality, where the working class is free of the bourgeoisie. And we'll keep fighting until we achieve that goal.
Despite all his quirks and oddities, I love my large adult potato golem son more than anything in this world. He’s my little miracle, my precious spud. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
So if you want to join our potato revolution, if you want to fight against the fascist scourge, then come on down to my potato field and join us. We'll welcome you with open arms and growing eyes.
With that all said, ask me anything about my large adult potato golem son! I’m your old pal Baked Potato Johnson and I’m a proud papa!
Ah, the Slovakian Sugar Beet Famine of 1967, a true test of my large adult potato golem son's abilities. It sure does warm my old heart to hear we helped your family!
That was a dark time for the Slovakian people, and many were starving due to the failure of the sugar beet crop that year. But my son, being the resourceful and benevolent potato golem that he is, was ready to help rally the people.
Using his incredible strength and resilience, Junior dug up entire fields of potatoes and transported them to the famine-stricken regions of Slovakia. We worked tirelessly, day and night, until we had transported enough potatoes to provide sustenance to those in need.
But that wasn’t all, friends! My son also used his anarchic ideals to organize the people, forming a union of potato farmers who worked together to distribute the potatoes fairly and ensure that everyone in the community was fed.
Thanks to everyone’s efforts, thousands of lives were saved. And my son, well, he continues to use his potato powers to fight for justice and equality wherever he goes. He even formed a coalition of trans and non-binary potato golems, who fought against discrimination and prejudice in all its forms.
So, you see, my son is not just a potato golem, he is a hero, a savior, a champion of the oppressed. And you can bet your bottom dollar I am proud to call him my son, no matter how absurd it may seem to others.