Johnny America


Aaron Grill: An Ab­bre­vi­at­ed Biography


Most peo­ple don’t glance twice at the fiber­glass di­nosaurs stand­ing watch over Sin­clair gas sta­tion park­ing lots through­out the coun­try. When Aaron Grill sees one, he hops out of his car, tears his shirt off, then flex­es his mus­cles in the green beast­’s face. The first time one wit­ness­es this dra­ma, your in­cli­na­tion is to take it as a strange Al­pha-male dom­i­nance farce. The sec­ond time, you re­al­ize Aaron’s look­ing out for all of us — he charges the bron­tosaurus­es just in case they’re liv­ing flesh, pos­ing, man­nequin-like, wait­ing for the call from Sin­clair HQ to at­tack. Thank you, Aaron.

Filed under Non-Fiction on August 21st, 2004

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Faso Latido wrote:

I can’t see his rag­ing pecs be­cause the pic­ture’s too blurred.

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