JDM  JohnLove

John Lives

Thank you, JD Morgan, for the alpha and the omega and everything in between. Your understanding of John Winchester's spirit and embodiment of his essence are all I could ever ask for. We are of John, Always.




Never Give Up.
Never Surrender.
And Never Hunt a Wendigo When You're Drunk.

JDM  JohnLove

And the Oscar Goes to ... JDM!!!

Extraordinary review for an extraordinary actor and even better man:

"As the Oscar race begins to come into focus, the best actor field looks extremely crowded, but the best supporting actor field does not. That being the case, some smart distributor ought to act quickly and pick up Jonas Cuaron's Desierto, a deeply disturbing drama about Mexicans trying to sneak into America, because in it Jeffrey Dean Morgan — supporting Gael Garcia Bernal and an ensemble of lesser-known thesps — brings to life one of the most hauntingly evil characters in the history of the movies. (The film had its world premiere and follow-up screenings this week at the Toronto International Film Festival.)

Morgan plays an embittered American redneck who drives around the border in his Confederate flag-waving pickup truck, sipping on booze and talking to his vicious dog Tracker — the most unlikable canine of all-time — as he scouts for border-crossers to pick off with his rifle. He does so with such a sense of purpose, pleasure and utter disregard for others' humanity — despite undoubtedly being a man who values "the sanctity of life" when it comes to, say, fetuses — that he makes the nutcase played by Javier Bardem in No Country for Old Men look sweet and innocent."

Read the rest of the article here.

Congratulations, JD! About time he got the right role to bring him the right kind of attention from the right industry types. Couldn't be happier.

SPN Family Comes First

Happy 10th Birthday, Supernatural


A good friend reminded me today of all that Supernatural has meant to me over the years. So on this day of days, the 10th birthday of a show that changed everything, I'm reposting this story I wrote back in the day, when the show was just that to me: everything. This is a piece with roots in just about every aspect of the show I loved: Family. Myth. Heart. Soul. Faith. Hope. Love ... (and the greatest of these is love.) </p>

So with that in mind, I offer "The Unspoken" back to y'all today as a reflection of what once was, not in recrimination for what now is, but rather as a celebration of how it all began. A snapshot of the past, pulled out on a special occasion to the purpose of reminiscing.

And to say Thank you, Supernatural. For giving me the boys, with their good hearts and wit-tay repartee, as well as all their crazy cohorts and convention tomfoolery as have been the stuff of legend over the years. For helping me get through my own personal InCountry of grief as brought me to your door in the first place. For hooking me up with friends who will last a lifetime. For introducing me to John Fucking Winchester in all his fucked-up glory. And lastly, but never leastly, for attaching Jeffrey Dean Morgan to my creative spirit in ways that no man (nor show) shall ever put asunder.

Thank you. And Happy Birthday. And for anybody who wants to look at an old photo or two, here you go:




Title: The Unspoken
Author: Dodger Winslow
Wordcount: 10,500
Genre: Gen
Rating: R for language
Timeframe: Mid 2nd Season, some time after Road Kill.
Disclaimer: I’m don’t own the boys, I’m just stalking them for a while.

Summary: He’d been with them for months now. Dean sensed it at odd times. Usually in the still; often in the quiet that came after blood. He thought it was grief at first — nothing more than just simple need — but he realized now it was something more. And perhaps he’d known as much since the beginning.


The Unspoken

One God, many names. All of them spoken; and in the speaking,
their power. But those who bear no name are simply The Unspoken.

He’d been with them for months now.

Dean sensed it at odd times. Usually in the still; often in the quiet that came after blood. He thought it was grief at first — nothing more than just simple need — but he realized now it was something more.

And perhaps he’d known as much since the beginning.

Dean shoved the last of his dirty clothes into a duffel, zipped it shut, and tossed it to the floor by the door. His father watched from the corner, leaning against a wall, arms crossed, expression tainted to the unmistakable hue of judgmental.

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JDM A Boy and His Bisou

Bisou




For those of you who don't know, Jeff's beloved dog Bisou passed away shortly after he got home from Asylum. DonateJDM has put up a memorial page for her and has a guest book were you can leave your condolences if you'd like. Here is the link:

DONATEJDM.COM