SOUTHSIDE JOHNNY
(Pronounced “Boy Howdy!”)
HOME: The soft, white underbelly of the throbbing megalopolis... the South Side.
AGE: Somewhere between Wynonie Harris and ChuckBarris.
PROFESSION: Introducing Billie Holliday blues to hayseed headbangers; sucking Stax/Volt soul from saliva-sodden mouth harps.
HOBBIES: Plotting the death of Chuck Mangione by trumpet backfire; deep-breathing competitions in New Jersey; carcinogenic victory gardens.
LAST BOOK READ: Cook ThatMutha ’TilltBums by Jake & Elwood Blues.
LAST ACCOMPLISHMENT: Claiming unused nicknames such as “Sweet Meat”, “Phlegm Face” and “Baited Breath” as tax write-offs.
QUOTE: “My aunt says I lost my voice because they landed on the moon.”
PROFILE: Lost in a world dominated by FM radio, Billy Carter, disco rollerskating and American Bandstand, Southside and friends decided to pool their resources and turn back the clock; later that evening, after a hearty dose of King Floyd and bootleg hootch, a jukebox mishap catapaulted our heroes onto the charts, making the world once again safe for D.A. haircuts. And what of Jimmy Olsen?
BEER: Boy Howdy!