Where’s Johnny?


Oh man, can I just say it? I love Johnny Sack. He is not the titular Johnny of Sopranos episode 5×3, “Where’s Johnny”, but he is the Johnny of my heart. If we were together we could just hang out and be bitter assholes and he wouldn’t even mind if I let myself go! It would be a beautiful relationship. Johnny is also a great party planner, check out what he arranged for Little Carmine’s bachelor party:

Johnny: I was in his wedding party! Organized his whole fucking bachelor party, lesbian show… whores… fucking disgusting!
Christopher: I had no idea you guys were so close.

Call me, Prince Charming!

I basically glutted myself on the whole fifth season of the Sopranos last week, but there was a lot in there, so I’m going to try to go through it more blogularly minded. The strangest thing for me is that I seem to managed to be entirely unspoiled for the Sopranos despite knowings lots of people who watched it and not living in a hole in the ground. I’m not sure why it took me so long to watch it, although I guess the answer is that I’m not all that interested in masculinity issues, and it’s a pretty butch show. Like, so sorry you feel put upon old white dudes, maybe you’d like to go roll around in your money-bed until you feel better?

Tony and Uncle Junior have a big fight at dinner about how Tony has tiny hands, and didn’t have the chops to be a varsity athlete, and it’s pretty hilarious. I love when the Sopranos are petty. Janice basically insults Tony’s dick all “Small haaaands. I’ve heard that about you.” Love. Her. Tony yells about undermining. I love that he’s basically that person we all know who starts going to therapy and then it always yammering in therapy-speak and telling people to use “I” statements and talking about undermining. Basically, Junior’s not far wrong when he says that Tony’s problem is that he’s a goddamn hothouse flower.

But Junior may not be the most reliable narrator, since he is clearly having an episode-long senior moment, or mini-strokes per his doctor. He wanders off looking for the ghost of Johnny Soprano and into some weird sales meeting at a church where a middle-aged man is teaching kids how to do a hard sell. “When they say they’re not interested, you say, ‘You’re not interested in keeping kids off drugs?!'”

So then! Junior is chilling on a bench when he has a existential encounter with a prostitute.

Whore: Hey there handsome. Where you living now?
Junior: Do you know me?
Lady of the Evening: Do I know you?
Junior: Jupiter club on 6th street?
Fallen Woman: Caught fire that place, lot of people died.
Junior: Do you know my brother johnny.
Hooker: You got all the looks, I’ll tell you that.
Junior: What are you saying? You and I had relations?
Streetwalker: Some bitch in a taxi cab run me right over my foot.
Junior: I have a car.
World’s Oldest Professional: Want a date? I’ll give you half and half in the back seat.

Ah, love in your twilight years. I don’t exactly know what a half and half is, but I can guess. So then Junior is found wandering around some dumpsters by the cops, and he’s super belligerent.

Officer: How you doing?
Junior: I don’t gotta tell you shit.
Officer: Can I see some ID, Sir?
Junior: Fuck you, copper, I know my rights.

The cops take him home, seeming to boggle at how the mighty have fallen. Junior bids them goodbye pleasantly all: “Go shit in your hat!”

Tony goes off on Janice, who tries to give him marriage advice, which is pretty hilarious, considering that she’s Janice fucking Soprano who killed her fiance in a rage. “Free spirit Janice! Rebel without a cause! While I sit here mired in [Mon’s] bullshit trying to be a good son while you’re off dropping acid and blowing roadies!”

And Bobby’s all, “Roadies?!?” While I’m like, “Roadies!!! Hee, hee, I’m twelve. Of course. That’s soooo Janice.”

Anyway, Tony and Junior sort of make up, because Tony realizes that Junior is having medical issues although Tony can’t really let it go. He’s all, “Let’s assume that you don’t know what you’re saying, that you forget and say something over and over, why’s it gotta be something mean? Why can’t you repeat something good? [Long Pause] Don’t you love me?”

Aaaaaaand, no answer from Junior, cut to credits. That shit is BRUTAL.

Hope everyone’s Christmas was good. I got my dead mother’s bronzed baby shoe. There are Soprano levels of weirdness and dysfunction stirring in my extended family.



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