The storied life of Jake Johnson, writer.
Jake was born pre-maturely on the snow-capped peak of Mt. Kilimanjaro. His mother, against all advice, braved the 19,000-foot climb at eight months pregnant, claiming that an angel had appeared to her in a dream and promised that she would have a healthy child if she were to journey to the small village of Machame and touch the edge of Kibo.
Succumbing to the severe lack of oxygen induced by the combination of her climb and the pressure Jake’s fetal self exerted on her sternum, his mother went into labor. To this day Jake carries the spirit of the Maasai Ngaje Ngai within him—that is, the “House of God”. It is said that his mother descended from the mountain with a efflorescent light surrounding her and that her body had suffered no trauma from the birth. This lead many to claim that Jake was actually a son of the mountain.
Which was total bullshit. This is Jake when he had hair. He is a writer. Sometimes he lets people pay him for it. He is not a hipster. He only looks like one.
Jake’s eldest son, Liam, doesn’t help with the business. But he does provide much needed diversion and entertainment
Jake’s youngest son, Dylan, likes to play drums with cute girls, which is assurance that he is indeed Jake’s son.
Jake’s wife has elected not to have her photo on this site but assures Jake that she loves him very much.