Johnny Linguini, a New Jersey native, claims to have had 27 past lives, most notably as a distinguished Victorian Era proctologist. But when pressed, Johnny refuses to give details; he simply slips his index finger under the flared nares of the curious and queries, "Would I lie to you?"

Mr. Linguini's current incarnation is that of a hedge fund manager and dumpster contractor in and around the New York City area. He couldn't care less about the environment; he does care deeply, though, for the efficient disposal of area rats who've disrespected "la famiglia".

Raised in a traditional Amish-Italian family, Johnny was taught the importance of hard work at a very early age. Petty larceny was a requisite discipline (as were advanced courses in cost-benefit analysis). Nobody could build a better Adirondack chair. Many tried their level best to emulate Johnny's skills as a shakedown artist, but none could even hope to reach his level of expertise. And, nobody - and we mean nobody - could employ the Oxford comma with such deft precision as Mr. Linguini. Yes, Johnny was (and is) an idiot savant.

Sadly, the business of woodworking, chicken farming and grand theft auto proved less than lucrative. He instinctively knew that dumpsters were where the money was, but he needed an in. As luck would have it, our dear Johnny, by happenstance, you understand, befriended Mikey "The Nose" Genovese, a used car salesman, bodega operator, and amateur embalmer. (Editor's note: What this has to do with fibromyalgia and cocktail peanuts, I'll never know. But I feel I may be heading in the right direction; I'm still buzzed. Please don't judge.).

Anyway, Mikey happened to be co-owner of Cans-R-Us (a division of A. Freaking Front, Inc.), a rubbish receptacle company. Mikey knew Johnny had promise, not to mention a few fetid bodies that needed to be stashed. So, Mikey asked Johnny to join his little venture, creating one undeniably unholy union. A new power duo was formed. Lower Manhattan would soon enjoy corpse-free sidewalks. Johnny was finally a made man (and had the exquisitely tailored Armani suits to prove it). 

Johnny enjoys long walks on the beach, candlelit dinners, romance novels, single mothers, cotton candy, kittens and....wait...he'll kick my ass if I share this information. There's nothing to see here. Just quietly move along...

Even though the guy's as crooked as a pecker that inexplicably got caught in the hood latch assembly of a '69 Camaro SS, Johnny's all heart; he cares deeply - about 8 ft. (depending on the depth of the dumpster).

We encourage you to join Johnny every Friday at noon; in fact, we strongly advise it. You wouldn't want something tragic to befall you and/or your precious Shih Tzu, Bubbles, now would you?