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!
I’m not going to read this post, but I will congratulate you on its length
I have a head-canon that the majority of the surreal bit accounts on this website are a single person blowing off steam instead of working.
Sorry to burst your bubble, but I yam what I yam, your old simple pal Baked Potato Johnson!
Well you gotta remember that my large adult potato golem son, Baked Potato Johnson Jr., doesn't have a typical job like most people. As an anarchist and a god of tubers, he's not too keen on the idea of being chained to a 9-to-5 routine. Instead, he spends his days wandering the world, spreading the anarchist theory and fighting for the rights of marginalized communities.
Sometimes he'll work odd jobs here and there, like helping out on a farm or working in a restaurant kitchen. He doesn't do it for the money though, he does it to connect with the people and communities he's trying to help.
One of his most recent projects involved helping to build a community garden in a low-income area of our city. He worked with locals to plant potatoes and other vegetables, teaching them about sustainable farming practices and how to grow their own food.
It's not a conventional job, but it's important work nonetheless. I taught my son a long time ago that by building these connections and working alongside people, he can help bring about real change in the world. I couldn't be more proud of him for it, even if I don’t get to see him as often as I’d like these days!
This sounds like a Dead Milkmen song.
Did you ever go to make a pork sausage and find its got hairs all over it?
You know, I haven’t thought of that band in years, but now that you ask, my cousin earl’s kid never has been the same since the tractor accident.
:soviet-hmm:
You clearly channeled Rodney Anonymous who is still alive so you must be a time traveling medium.
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.
:ussr-cry:
Hey there ol' pal Baked Potato Johnson, I'd just like to thank both of you and say me and my family owe everything to the wimey-timey bullshit of your large adult potato golem son, if it wasn't for his efforts (and potatoes) my whole family would have died during the Slovakian Sugar Beet Famine of '67.
:fidel-salute:
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.
thank ya Dirt Owl! Gotta admit, I thought of you and all your tail feathers while writing this!
Great
manpotato theory? On my Chapo.chat? It's more common than you think, folks.What a wonderful question!
My large adult potato golem son has yet to visit that land of windmills and tulips. However, he has expressed a keen interest in the country's progressive politics and the strong history of workers' rights.
As an anarchist and union organizer, my son has always been drawn to places that have a strong tradition of standing up to oppressive systems. The Netherlands, with its long history of resistance against foreign rule, strikes him as a place where his message of workers' power and solidarity would resonate.
I've been telling him about the potato-tulip connection for years now and I’m sure he'd be interested to see it in person. You see the Dutch may love tulips, but let me tell you a little secret, they're actually just a type of potato. Yes, you heard that right! I've been studying the origins of tulips and potatoes for years, and let me tell you, the similarities are uncanny.
You see, tulips were originally cultivated for their bulbous roots, just like potatoes. And as they evolved, they became more ornamental and less edible. But deep down, they're still just potatoes in disguise. And that's why I know my potato golem son will feel right at home in the land of tulips.
I can just picture him now, wandering through the tulip fields, communing with the potato spirits that reside within each blossom. And when he comes back, he'll have a new appreciation for the power of potatoes and the hidden potential of all plant life.
There is a jazz bar in North Hollywood called the Baked Potato. As far as I have been able to determine, neither the owner nor the manager are actually potatoes. (Some of the in-house audio gear might be, but that's another story.)
Do either you or your son consider this a form of cultural appropriation?
:gold-ancom:
Does your son dedicate the entirety of his life to The Revolution? I can surely see he has the dedication and revolutionary spirit, but I ask specifically because I wonder if you expect any grandtaters at some point? The Revolution must live on in our children and our children's children and their potatoes.
Well, here’s the thing: my large adult potato golem son's dedication to The Revolution is not just limited to his own existence. He has already started a project to create a new breed of revolutionary potato golems that can survive in outer space. You see, he believes that the ultimate goal of The Revolution is not just to change the current system on Earth, but to spread the revolutionary spirit throughout the entire universe with the immortal science of luxury gay space anarcho -communism.
As for grandtaters, my son believes that the traditional family structure is a construct of the oppressive system and that potatoes should not be limited by it. He envisions a future where all potato golems are part of a collective community, working towards a common goal of dismantling the oppressive systems in society. So, he doesn't plan to have any grandtaters in the traditional sense, but rather sees all potato golems as part of his extended family.
In fact, he's even started a potato golem commune in the middle of the desert, where potato golems of all types, composition, and genders can come together to live and work together in a completely anarchistic and collective manner. And of course, the commune is completely self-sufficient, powered entirely by the revolutionary spirit of the potato golems who live there.
So, in short, my son's dedication to The Revolution is not just limited to his own lifetime, but extends to the entire universe and all potato golems everywhere. And as for grandtaters, he sees all potato golems as part of his extended family and is working to create a world where all potato golems can live and thrive together in complete freedom and equality. I couldn’t be a prouder papa!
You need to have a discussion with your son about making sure he sends texts to the right person. You are lucky it was me that got this and not any of my young Beetroot daughters.
