True Stories

David Caruso Getting Ambushed And Stabbed In The Legs By John Rambo

2011-07-23T04:25:00.000-04:00

If you like stabbing and/or you enjoy seeing David Caruso get ambushed and stabbed in the legs by John Rambo, then this is the place for you. In other words, this place is for everyone, because who doesn't enjoy stabbings -- especially when they involve David Caruso? What a dumb question.

Here's the link: David Caruso Getting Ambushed And Stabbed In The Legs By John Rambo (Facebook)

David Caruso Leg-Stabbing Scene:

(Caruso gets stabbed at about the :17 second mark. It's great)

Gordon Bombay's DUI

2011-07-19T23:54:00.001-04:00

FACT: If Gordon Bombay hadn't gotten that DUI, there would have been no Mighty Ducks.

So remember, the next time you get jammed up for blowing a .114 in a field sobriety test, don't beat yourself up too badly. You might just wind up turning some kid's life around. Or a whole team's.

Except probably not.

Dude. You are fucked.

Old Man Marley

2011-07-16T01:47:00.000-04:00

The man who played "The South Bend Shovel Slayer" in the classic 1990 film Home Alone has passed away.

Actor Robert Blossom died of natural causes in a Santa Monica nursing home on Friday, according to his daughter. He was 87 years old.

Blossom is perhaps best-known for saving Maculay Culkin from being bitten and probably raped by The Wet Bandits at the end of the film (spoiler alert). Mr. Blossom is also famous for causing young Macaulay to shoplift a toothbrush by simply looking at the boy with his patented "scary-old-man-stare" and the always-effective "bandaged/bloody hand" routine. He also apparently acted in a bunch of other movies that weren't Home Alone.

Tonight, I pour out some liquor and raise a snow shovel to the man who made it cool again to trust creepy, grizzled, and potentially-homicidal old guys.

Tonight, I salt the streets in memory of Old man Marley.

"Mummies..."

America's (Homeless) Got Talent

2011-01-19T14:53:00.001-05:00

The heartwarming story of golden-voiced hobo Ted Williams captivated a nation last week after a YouTube video of him demonstrating his vocal talents went viral. I imagine in the coming weeks hundreds of desperate talent agencies across the U.S. will look to capitalize and take to the streets, looking for the next big thing:

AGENT: Excuse me, sir. Yes, you with the shopping cart. Can I hear your voice?

BUM: Man, you got a quarter?

AGENT: Excellent, you're signed. Let's make a fucking gold record.

Meanwhile, everyone in the world is really excited for Ted -- especially his family. Turns out ol’ Teddy Bear lost touch with/bailed on (same thing, right?) his family 23 years ago and hasn’t been around much the last two decades or so. But now he’s back, so hey -- let's make him a celebrity. In fact, let's hire him to do Kraft Macaroni 'n Cheese commercials and offer him a job with the Cleveland Cavaliers. Yeah! And while we're at it, let's invite him to appear on Dr. Phil, Entertainment Tonight, and spend thousands of dollars sending him off to rehab.

And to think some people say America rewards undeserving people...

Mustache Comics

2010-11-19T17:38:00.008-05:00

Mustache Cops (Theme)

2009-10-13T16:12:00.000-04:00

Refreshment = Gayness?

2009-05-19T23:53:00.004-04:00

It's hot outside, REALLY hot. So these dudes do what any other guys out there would do on a hot hot HOT day: they line up, get a running start and SLAM into each other, EXPLODING AND SPRAYING ALL OVER OTHER GUYS' FACES (I'm assuming it's Sprite that's being sprayed). The only way this commercial could be any gayer was if someone re-cut it with "It's Raining Men" playing in the background.

This one is just kinda gay:

I guess I'm just so used to seeing half-naked chicks with hypnotic boobs sell me shit on TV that a little good ol' fashioned "Boy time" seems out of place to me now...

Then again, they did EXPLODE ALL OVER each other. And those other dudes were showering in that shit, they had their eyes closed & heads back and they were letting the spray hit their faces like an Herbal Essences commercial. Since when did refreshing lemon-lime soda become synonymous with homoerotic playground behavior?

Seriously, what the fuck Sprite?

Dinosaurs!

2009-03-18T13:12:00.006-04:00

The endless hours of wondering what teenage dinosaurs did back in the day are finally over --- science has once again stepped in and set the record straight.

(Read the full article here)

2008 NFL Season Recap

2009-01-29T22:06:00.040-05:00

Time to say farewell to the 2008 NFL Football season. And Boy George what a spectacular season it's been. So many great memories, so much excitement... so much passion. Throbbing passion…

…Like the passion Tony Kornheiser has for ruining Monday Night Football. Or the passion he has for Brett Favre. Kornheiser (aka the Woody Allen of color commentary) had a total boner for the Favre retirement/un-retirement/trade/soap opera-thing that went on early in the season. But then he couldn’t let it go. He talked about it every single Monday Night game for the rest of the year -- even if the two teams playing had no connection whatsoever to Brett “Real. Comfortable.” Favre or Aaron Rodgers or the Packers or the Jets. “Well, it’s 3 and long for the Buccaneers, Carolina has a solid lead right now, and I think the question on everyone in America’s mind is: did the Packers make the right choice? Jaws, your thoughts?” (Actually, I got a thought: SCREW YOU ESPN for letting him get away with that crap all season!)

But, seriously -- what am I getting mad for? I mean, like Brett Favre says, “Hey man, ain’t nothin’ more comfortable than some Wranglers. NOTHIN.” …or at least that’s what I pretend he’s saying when he’s wearing his Wrangler jeans and throwing fade routes to his Labradors in that commercial.

I wish I was one of Brett Favre’s friends, they're all so down to earth. And they all drive trucks. Tuff trucks. And they all wear Wrangler jeans. Real. Comfortable. Wrangler Jeans.

A lot of coaches got fired this year. The Cleveland Browns gave Romeo “Cheeseburger” Crennell the big boot (bout time). But, not to worry -- Romeo bounced back in a big way: he’s scheduled to star as “Officer Carl Winslow” in the Broadway (Ave.) Production of Family Matters: The Musical, AND he just signed on to play “Doc” in the upcoming film Punch-Out!! The Movie.

I heard he locked-it-up at the audition with his “Select-button/Stamina Technique”, but that’s just the rumor.

Also, its official: Tom Coughlin is the ‘GODDAMMIT!’ Coach from Not Another Teen Movie.

In other news, the Lions went 0-16… and I blame this picture:

Doesn’t get much gayer than that.

Plaxico Burress shot himself while wearing these sweatpants at a titty-bar. Yeah I know. Sweatpants at a titty bar -- no class.

Braylon Edwards was there to drop the ball in New York City for New Year’s Eve this year, just like he did the entire 2008 season. (c'mon, 137 drops dude? Nobody cares you played at Michigan, either -- just catch the rock)

3, 2, 1 ... Happy New Year!

Damn look how swole Ed Hochuli is. Does he get tested for HGH? If his balls aren’t shrinking, his brain sure is because this blown call right HERE is definitely going on The Refs “Greatest Hits/Worst Calls in History” album, once it comes out. Two-disc set.

Brady Quinn: 8 endorsements this year, played about 10 quarters of football. When he broke his finger, I can’t help but wonder if he said, “NOW I’M DONE” like in his bro-drink commercial:

Another favorite theme of mine this year? The hot new look for field goal kickers and holders. Check out the Timex IndiGlo/wedding band combination.

This guy was grillin’ Brats and rockin a polo shirt from Kohl’s literally 4 minutes before this play started. Oh and the kicker missed. I guess that’s IndiGlo for ya!

Another great Kicker moment from this year was “Monday Night Jihad” – a story penned by Atlanta Falcons Kicker Jason Elam. Check out this description:

After a tour of duty in Afghanistan, Riley Covington is living his dream as a professional linebacker when he comes face-to-face with a radical terrorist group on his own home turf. Drawn into the nightmare around him, Riley returns to his former life as a member of a special ops team that crosses oceans in an attempt to stop the escalating attacks. But time is running out, and it soon becomes apparent that the terrorists are on the verge of achieving their goal: to strike at the very heart of America.

All it’s missing is Trey Parker and Matt Stone screaming “FUCK YEAH!!!” on that last ‘America.’

So that’s a wrap. Can’t wait to see what 2009 has in store for us … hopefully no more of this:

Get over it already, stop ruining MNF.

Christmas Shopping

2008-12-21T21:24:00.009-05:00

"Every kiss begins with Kay"? No every ulcer begins with one of those goddamn commercials. Who the F has money to buy diamonds these days? Shut your MOUTH already Kay Jewelers, before I give it a smack. What? Don't think I won't Carlo Rizzi a jewel company... I've done it before, I'll do it again. You guinea brat you.

Forget diamonds. Get her something that counts. Get her something that stands out. Get her something that says "I'm a lady."

Introducing "Pons" by Wendy.

Hurry, just 3 days 'til Christmas...

(click to enlarge)

(*Yeah this is real)

Halloween Awesomeness

2008-10-24T21:09:00.028-04:00

If you’ve ever met me, overheard me ramble, or read my super-secret diary, then you’d know just how much I love Halloween. I mean, I actually LIVE for it. And when I say “live,” I mean just that. Because I don’t just “dress up” on Halloween -- I transform.

We’re talkin’ 364 days of preparation, and one night of perfection. Because, like I said, I don’t just put on a costume… I become the character. To put it bluntly: I “De Niro” that shit.

Like last year I was all ripped and whatnot, so I went out as John Basedow… you know, the guy who does those workout commercials and he’s always flexing/lifting under a waterfall for some reason and he has sort of a lesbian pompadour going on? Yeah, that costume was a huge hit.

Or the year before when I ballooned up to 340 and went as Jared from Subway (the “before” version) -- that took some serious discipline (thanks again, "Frito Lay diet"). But again, I’m all about commitment.

And I’m always looking for/thinking about future costume ideas. Like if I ever lose a leg, BAM: I’m a pirate for Halloween every year. Or if I ever wind up rockin’ a wheelchair: I’m Corey Haim in “Silver Bullet.” Those are extreme circumstances, I know, but hey -- you gotta look on the bright side of things.

I even daydream, from time to time, about how SWEET it’s going to be when I lose my hair. I mean, think about how many great, bald cinema-psychopaths there are: Hannibal Lector, Nicholson in “The Shining”, Clarence Boddicker (“Robocop”), either one of the Fratelli Brothers (“Goonies”), about 4 Kevin Spacey characters, or Joe Pesci from “Home Alone.” The sky’s the limit (when I’m bald)!

skip to 5:25 = best line ever (after being arrested)

Anyway, Halloween’s right around the corner, so there’s no time to try and do what I did. Your best bet is to wait until November 1st and either begin some sort of extreme diet regimen or become involved in a freak, life-altering accident. That’s where I’d start. In the meantime, I do have a few other Halloween “pointers” to throw your way… Enjoy!

“HALLOWEEN FUN” TIPS

1.) Safety is vital around Halloween time, and when it comes to candy you can never be too safe. So, be sure to check all candy before passing any out. One measure is to completely unwrap and inspect each piece, ensuring that it’s free from poison, razors, or (especially) lead paint -- since most candy comes from China* (*a fact I just made up a second ago). When inspection is complete, simply re-wrap candy, place in bowl and have fun handing out all those super-safe treats!

2.) Trick-or-treaters sure do love getting treats… but they also love tricks. So, be sure to set up a number of elaborate Rube Goldberg-style booby-traps and plenty of large objects to obstruct a clear path to your front door. Kids these days love a good challenge anyway. Fire is also a good alternative.

3.) If you have children who are going out trick-or-treating, it’s a good idea to starve them for at least 11 hours prior. Sure, they’ll cry hunger -- but you know better. Letting them go hungry is a good way to instill a good ol’ fashioned American work-ethic in them, where being “hungry” can make for a quick rise to the top. After all, that’s what capitalism’s all about! And when they come home with 4 pillowcases full of candy (as opposed to their friends’ 1 pillowcase) they’ll thank you with all their heart for teaching them such discipline.

4.) Hey, it’s Halloween… so be scary! Turn off all your lights, set up a chair in the bushes, and ask kids -- in a soft, creepy whisper -- if they “want some candy.” Or, jump out of a tree and “candy ambush” them (kids love that)! OR -- if no kids come down your street, passing out candy from the side door of your van is a practical solution (the only scary part there is high gas prices!).

5.) When your children return home from trick-or-treating, be sure to inspect their candy for them. Take special care to remove any “unhealthy” items and replace them with delicious, whole-grain solutions. Then, take all 60 of those Reese’s Cups and stash them in your closet. You want to be Jared next year for Halloween, don’t you?

It's a Blanket ... with Sleeves, No Less!

2008-10-16T19:28:00.026-04:00

Q. Blankets are probably the oldest and greatest invention in the history of all mankind -- how could you possibly make them sweeter?

A. By adding sleeves.

It's called "The Snuggie. It's a blanket. And it's got sleeves.

It's perfect for keeping warm and staying hands-free and apparently getting down on mad games of Backgammon.

It's also great for: pretending you're a Jedi knight, convincing your neighbors you've joined a scary religious cult, re-enacting the high school graduation ceremony to which you were never invited, assisting in a Catholic mass, or recording an album of indiscernible Latin chanting.

But if you really want to complete the look then you totally gotta get the "The Hillow" -- the pillow you wear as a hat.

I just invented them shits. Patent pending.

**BONUS PRODUCT**

http://www.lippiselkbag.co.uk/

It's the sleeping bag -- that you WEAR!

Now you can be warm AND look like DEVO.

(**special thanks to True Stories fan Ryan for finding this European gem)

Happy Birthday, Linda Hamilton!

2008-09-24T23:13:00.018-04:00

Here are a few snapshots celebrating the life of actress Linda Hamilton:

Hanging out at the Discotheque...

A night of passion...

"HE'LL KILL US ALL!!!!!!!"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The "Wispys"

2008-08-11T21:24:00.013-04:00

So check this out; I’m just now getting back from the glorious city of Juno, Maine where I attended the 26th Annual "Wispy Mustache Awards" -- AKA "The 2008 Wispys" -- hosted by gay teen heartthrob Orlando Bloom.

As an avid mustache fan, I gotta say the ceremony did not disappoint. Shit was incredible this year. There were so many spectacular moments -- where do I begin?

Well, the first award they gave was the "Wispy Athlete Award", given to the professional athlete with the best awesome mustache. There to present this year's Wispy was NFL quarterback and last year's winner Charlie Frye.

Now back when he won the award, Charlie was the starting QB for the Cleveland Browns (my squad) … but then he got traded to Seattle where he is now a backup. Anyway, I got a chance to talk to Charlie; when I asked him how he felt having to leave Northeast Ohio, he just looked away, sighed and said: "Damn dawg, I miss Lake Erie."

I feel you, Charlie.

In a total landslide victory, NBA Basketball player Adam Morrison claimed the 2008 award.

Look at him ... God he was so happy.

Later in the evening, The "Wispiest City in America" Award went to -- SURPRISE -- Garfield Heights, Ohio. I know -- they win it every GD year. There to accept the award was "White" Dave McMullin and his older brother Charlie. I began to notice a trend where white dudes named Charlie and wispy stashes seemed to go hand-in-hand. I made a note of it.

Speaking of Charlie’s, this year marked a significant event: a lifetime achievement award for Full Wispiness. The award was given posthumously to the late, great Charles Bronson. Man he was awesome in The Mechanic.

Bronson sketched this of HIMSELF before he died.

Bone Thugs came out and did a Charlie Bronson/"Death Wish" tribute song/medley. Not a dry eye in the entire house. No lie.

More coverage to come. Stay tuned...

!!Bonus Stash Pics !!

Adam Morrison Action Bedroom Poster:

Fireworks Safety

2008-07-03T17:01:00.007-04:00

The 4th of July is a time for friends … a time for family … and a time to blow shit up. With that in mind, here are the official True Stories “Fireworks Safety Tips & Guidelines for Being Safe with Fireworks Outside While Lighting Fireworks.” Enjoy!

1. When lighting fireworks, ALWAYS be sure that the action figure/G.I. Joe is pointed AWAY from you and others. You won’t earn any Purple Hearts or Silver Stars taking Hasbro shrapnel in the leg, bro.

2. When lighting ‘Roman Candles,” it’s always important to NEVER point them at yourself. Keep them pointed at the person you are tying to shoot at ALL times.

3. With the vast majority of U.S. citizens having either cell phones or calling cards, it is no longer a lucrative operation to blow up payphones using M-80s or H-1000s. However, it’s still pretty awesome. Just remember: always practice fireworks safety and holla if you see for Five-0. Whoop-whoooop!!

4. If you are over the age of 13 and male, NEVER, under any circumstances, attempt to handle a lit “Sparkler.” Aside from it being unsafe, it’s EXTREMELY gay.

5. NEVER light fireworks when you are pumping gasoline into your car. That is, unless, you’re done filling up … and you’re looking to make some sort of a rebellious statement. Then, of course, by all means…

Ahh, Science

2008-05-07T21:18:00.009-04:00

For years, I found myself arguing with anyone who’d listen that I had it much tougher than my younger siblings did. But nobody ever really listened. Nobody believed me.

But ahh, sweet SCIENCE to the rescue.

A recent study at Johns Hopkins University concluded that the oldest kid does in fact have it worse when it comes to parental strictness -- while the younger brothers and sisters generally coast on by. And I couldn’t agree more.

I know, I know – many of you are sitting there, saying to yourselves, “Get over it, Ray. You’re 27 now --- it’s all in the past.” And yeah, sure, that’s a somewhat-valid point. What’s done is done, you can’t change the past…

But what you can change is the future.

I think something needs to be done for the oldest sibling. A token of appreciation, if you will. Sure, we get our privileges as the oldest: we were at the top of the family food chain and we beat the crap out of the younger siblings. Our parents also love us the most (you know it’s true). And yes we are third in command after Mom & Dad (first in charge when they croak) and we abuse those privileges extensively to make our kid sister(s) get us something to drink (with ICE, I said!!).

But screw all those petty privileges --- I want MORE. I want something better. A bit of compensation, perhaps.

I want … ‘Older Brother Reparations.’

So, dear younger brother & sisters: you fuckers OWE ME. There’s now way you can deny that I paved the way for you guys. I paved the way for you to stay out late. I blazed the trail that allows you to drink at weddings and get cellphones at 16. I set the precedents that allowed you to get tattoos and bellybutton piercings (silly younger brother). And now it’s time for me to collect!!

Here is a list of the things I want to see enacted as soon as possible. Petitions are in the process of being sent to Attorney Generals, Senators, Rabbis, and all the other powers-that-be. Read em and weep:

1. Older Brother Day (August 21^st) – I want this declared a holiday. I want a 24-hour period of worship commemorating my necessary sacrifices. Without me, you’d still have to be home by eleven and Mom wouldn’t let you watch Married With Children.

2. Money – I just want some. For all the “older brother crap” I had to do (drive you to school, beat-up bullies, buy beer, play Barbies, etc). At roughly 10 bucks an hour (an amount I picked for no reason), multiplied by the number of “older brother duty” hours I accumulated (also completely made up) … by my estimates you each owe me = about 40 grand. Or you could just pay off my student loans.

3. A Bust of My Head On Mom & Dad’s Mantle – After all, I am a hero. Or, at least, I’m not in prison. That’s as good of an example as anyone can set. If I were in prison, you guys’d be fucked. Make it a bronze statue. Not a fan of marble.

4. An Older Brother Montage Song – Hey, you guys are the musicians, figure it out. Just make me swoon is all I ask. Or cry. Either is fine.

5. On Second thought... -- Just make it a Montage VIDEO, of all my 'greatest hits' as an older brother. C'mon, there's plenty; it's at least a double-disc set.

6. Time – I washed a lot of dishes, cut a lot of lawns, and painted every room in the house because you guys sucked at it. Or you pretended to suck at it. Either way, Mom & Dad didn’t trust you to do it so they asked ME, the ever-dependable/workhorse older bro. I figure with the frequency of me getting screwed cost me a significant amount of time during my adolescent years. So -- Mow my lawn for the rest of 2008 and we’ll call it even. Oh, and I need one of you to stuff my gutters full of leaves for the cold months ahead. You know, for insulation.

Unbelievable

2008-04-29T21:47:00.004-04:00

So I JUST finish playing this really badass Delta Blues slide-guitar solo in front of this entire club full of black dudes, right? When who should show up at the same exact club but Ralph mothafuckin Macchio. I shit you not, he just waltzes right in the joint, shoulders back, brimming with confidence from his victories over both Johnny Lawrence and the entire cast of Never Back Down. And so what does he do? He walks right up on stage, fuckin plugs in his amp and starts shreddin-out some Classical Gas or Mozart or some shit, RIGHT IN MY FACE, and I'm all like ... uhh, wait, uhh ... and I try to fake it --- but the brothas I'm trying to impress ain't fuckin buying it and so ... I fuckin split. I just tossed my hair and got the hell out of there, never looking back.

God, I was mortified.

"Word is bond, yo."
-R. Macchio

A Day In The Life

2008-04-21T22:04:00.010-04:00

I literally get thousands of emails every day from True Stories readers, asking me things like, “Ray, what is it that you do all day?” and “Ray, why is your writing not good anymore?” Well today, I’d like to answer that question for you.

So, here’s what a very typical day consists of for me:

6:45 AM – Wake up. Kiss my wife, and whoever else is in bed with us.

6:50 AM – Practice martial arts as the sun comes up over the mountains. Playing in the background is a very rousing, powerful training/movie-montage song that I wrote myself.

7:01 AM – Bathe in the crisp waters of the river that runs alongside our cottage. Then, dress myself in clean linen robes and strap hand-fashioned sandals onto my bare feet.

7:05 AM – Change out of the robes after my wife tells me how fucking stupid I look.

7:07 AM – Get into my classic Porsche 911 and head to McDonalds for a Sausage Biscuit/hashbrown combo. I buy nothing for the wife after that last comment about the robes.

7:25 AM – Login to “True Stories” and post yet another hilarious, award-winning article. Or, take like 60 seconds to find a funny video on YouTube and write something really, really fast and unpolished to accompany it. Depends on how I’m feeling from the night before -- you know, especially after that marathon lovemaking session I had my wife and her 3 really hot friends (that also double as our maids).

7:36 AM – Get distracted by the ladies of The Weather Channel yet again.

7:38 AM – Develop an aching boner as I watch the Local on the 8s.

7:45 AM – Make sweet love to one of the maids as she comes in for the day shift … but only after I return home from McDonald’s for the second time (I knew I should’ve gotten something for the wife).

7:50 AM – Nunchuk practice on top of the roof.

8:22 AM – Guitar solo for the entire neighborhood, also from the roof.

9:00 AM – Head in to “work” for the day. In actuality, “work” is a place that looks like an office, runs like an office, and even has “employees” like an office – but I go there because my doctor says I need to sit around on my ass more (apparently I’m way too active).

9:30 AM – Smoke dope with one of the janitors out in the parking lot.

9:35 AM – Lose my keycard which allows me access into the building.

10:00 AM –

11:00 AM –

12:00 AM – Find my keycard in my pocket and go back into the building.

12:05 AM – Grab my car keys and head out for lunch.

12:30 PM – Lobster with Daryl Hannah. Look at her eat that thing!

1:30 PM – Sex with Daryl Hannah.

2:11 PM – Sneak out of DH’s apartment before she wakes up.

4:53 PM – Head back in to work. Ignore all 700 messages in my inbox and close Outlook. Boy, those people in my department sure do email a lot!

4:59 PM – Shut down for the day and head out to the parking lot.

5:00 PM – Speed out of the parking lot like I worked really, really hard that day and now I’m super-angry.

5:05 PM – Get really angry (for real) because everyone is doing 60 across all 3 lanes on the highway.

5:06 PM – Daydream about killing everyone on the road. Fantasize about having machine gun turrets mounted on top of my car. Hum the Knight Rider theme-song to myself.

5:07 PM – Realize that the voice of “KIT” on Knight Rider was actually Mr. Feeney from Boy Meets World.

5:08 PM – Think about how gay Boy Meets World turned out to be.

5:12 PM – Knife someone in the chest after a seriously-heated road-rage argument.

5:14 PM – Evade a swarm of police cruisers.

5:24 PM – Shoot it out with the cops.

5:35 PM – Come home and relax after a hard days work.

5:55 PM - Watch the last 5 minutes of Boy Meets World and affirm my earlier realization that it did in fact become the gayest show ever.

6:00 PM – Work out in my basement with this guy --->

7:30 PM – Jeopardy

8:00 PM – Depart into the city under the cover of night and fight crime.

12:00 AM – Return home and hand-type my soon-to-be-published memoirs.

1:35 AM – Booty-call from Sigourney Weaver.

2:35 AM – Home again

3:39 AM – Marathon sex session #2

5:50 AM - Protein bar

5:55 AM – Sleep

6:45 AM – Wake up and do it all over again

POWAFUL LIVIN' ROCKS!!!

2008-04-14T11:41:00.005-04:00

Fist-pumping vocals, thought-provoking lyrics ("...shaking, quaking, crashing, breaking!"), and crunchy-ass riffs --- just what a growing boy needs to help him decide what to talk mom into buying for him next.

Even at the age of seven I knew these things were retarded. But God was that commercial awesome.

http://toyarchive.com/Rocklords.html

I have the Rock Lord that sits outside your back door and conceals a spare house key. It's the only one that seemed remotely practical...

Cruisin...

2008-04-10T17:41:00.004-04:00

So recently, NASCAR driver Aaron Fike admitted that he occasionally shot-up heroin on race days. Wow, now ain’t that somethin’? Can’t say I blame him though -- have you ever actually watched NASCAR? It’s a fucking snooze-fest!

Still, something needs to be done. I don’t care if these guys are only going around in circles on a closed track -- they need to set up DUI-checkpoints every 30 or 40 laps. And not just on 4th of July and Memorial Day weekends, either. You never know how many tall-boys Dale Jr. may’ve had by lap 100, on ANY given race day.

But honestly, I couldn’t help but try and imagine what racing on a NASCAR track would be like if you were high on black-tar heroin. Perhaps something like this?

Best Fight Scene Ever

2008-04-08T21:20:00.002-04:00

Talk about slangin rocks!

Goodbye, Maxim Magazine

2008-04-03T22:41:00.014-04:00

Hey Maxim, it’s me, Ray. Listen … I’m not sure there’s an easy way to tell you this, but … well, fuck it -- I’m done with you, Maxim. Shhh. Don’t say anything, don’t make it harder. It’s best to just end it fast, like pulling off a band-aid or removing a 9 millimeter slug from your shoulder after a shoot-out with the cops. Let’s just end this amicably and go our separate ways, okay?

C’mon, don’t do this, you’re making a scene. Look ….let’s just … okay, fine, you really wanna know? You wanna know why? Okay, fine, I’ll tell you. Basically, I’ve outgrown you. And even more than that – you been fuckin’ up a lot lately.

It’s not one thing in particular -- it’s collective. Like what? C'mon, you know what. Like how bout the Black Crowes fuck-up? That was really, really uncool. I mean, I’m not even a Crowes fan, but I love music enough to know I can’t make a judgment or offer a valid opinion on something until I’VE HEARD THE ENTIRE THING. I mean, I had to at least hear Nickelback once to know they were the shittiest band ever. Anyway, what you printed was, quite frankly, retarded. I can only hope the writer of that review and the editor above him/her got fired and banished to … but even then, it doesn’t make it right.

And then things went from bad to worse.

March issue, Avril fucking Lavigne. What in God’s name were you thinking?

Let me get this straight -- you publish 12 issues a year TOTAL, meaning that only 12 hot girls get to grace the cover of your publication -- and y ou pick Avril Lavigne as one of them?? The most un-hot, ratty-looking Canadian “Punk rocker” in the history of, well … ratty-looking, Canadian “Punk rockers.” "Punk" is in quotes for an obvious reason -- just how PUNK are you if 7 of your hits are featured in the “Kid’s-Bop Vol. 12” commercials?

To be fair, Maxim, I’d say a good 85-90% of your models are essentially talent-less. But nearly ALL of them tend to have great racks or nice dupas -- so talent really isn’t the issue. What IS the issue here is that Avril Lavigne is not hot and possesses neither the rack nor the can to cut the mustard. She’s about a buck o’five soaking wet, with no curves to speak of. Plus she sucks. At music and at life. I can think of 1,000 chicks I’d rather see on your cover than her. Literally, a thousand (I can name them all if necessary).

But perhaps your BIGGEST eff-up to date was this past February’s issue. To my horror, I discovered that you put Heidi Montag, “star” of The Hills, on the cover. Come one -- really? Heidi Montag?? Not hot, not talented, not ... what the hell does this chick actually do?

I wouldn’t bang her with Charlie Sheen’s dick. I would never hit a girl -- but I have, if only for a second, actually entertained the idea of having a sex-change operation just to become a woman for a day so I could punch this bitch in her goddamn NECK. Did I mention I don’t like her?

I really thought I knew you better, Maxim -- but apparently I don’t know you at all. Throughout the years I've valued your opinion and trusted in your advice. That time you taught me how to make a “hobo stove” out of a beer can? That proved to be invaluable during the summer that I actually became a hobo. Or the time you had a badass MMA fighter show me how top take a punch to the head – thanks to you, I’m really good at that!

But putting Heidi Montag on your cover proves to me that your judgment is SHOT. If I wanted to see one of those plastic MTV skanks, I’d walk down to the ladies room and snag me the latest issue of Us Weekly. Why anyone cares about this chick or that show is something I ask myself at least 1,300 times a day. I kind of just chalked it up to the mystery that is women, seeing as I know NO men who watch The Hills. So why do this to us? Why taint our bathroom periodicals with this atrocity of a girl?? The fact that I even know who she IS is upsetting; media over-saturation will do that. But seeing her on your cover was the last straw. I’ve had enough.

Yeah sure you followed up the issue with super-hot Jaime King on the cover for April, and for a minute you sort of redeemed yourself. But after taking a step back I realized that it was too little too late. You and I are through.

Don’t look at me like that. You brought this upon yourself. You’re just too immature for me. And it doesn’t look like you’ll ever grow up. Don’t get me wrong, I love looking at swollen shirt-rockets on writhing chicks clad in lacy unmentionables as much as the next horny guy. But it’s just time I move on. Besides ... my tastes have shifted.

As I’ve forged ahead through my late 20s, I realize that now -- I’m really into hot moms. I'll go with Jamie Gertz over Ashley Simpson ANY DAY (not the coked-out Less Than Zero Jamie Gertz -- the Still Standing Jamie Gertz).

In fact, I just got my first issue of (ironically-titled) Hot Momz Magazine. First issue – the hot MILFs from the Weather Channel. I swear to God, every morning I watch the Local On The 8s and when cold fronts blow in from Canada across Lake Michigan (on the green-screen) these ladies begin sporting diamond-cutting hard nips before my very eyes. IT NEVER fails. Barometric pressure at 8AM has never been so awesome.

Anyway, I may stop by once in a while and see how you’re doing, but don’t get your hopes up. We can stay in touch, but it’s only because we have a child together. It’s been fun. Take care and ...

Farewell, Maxim.

Memories

2008-03-28T22:14:00.005-04:00

So the other day I was digging through some of my memoirs and I happened to come across this piping-hot gem. It’s an excerpt from a story I wrote years ago about my time on the road with television’s favorite son, Patrick Duffy (of “Dallas” and “Step-by-Step” fame). Yes, that’s right -- Patrick Duffy. We used to pal around together.

The story picks up when Duffy and I are driving through New York and we decide to play basketball with a few of his friends in the entertainment industry. Things get pretty interesting.

Later in the day, Patrick Duffy and I drove to some playground right in the middle of Spanish Harlem and played a friendly pick-up game of basketball with a few of his friends. John Stamos and Bob Saget were already there warming up.

Duffy leans in and tells me as we stretch, “Listen, kid. Things can get kind of rough out here, so watch your ass.” I nodded and tightened my shoe laces, assuming he meant because we were in Harlem.

Boy was I in for a surprise.

Stretch-limos pulled up with the likes of Rick Schroeder and the guy who played Carl Winslow. “Hot Carl,” as they called him, walked up to me, introduced himself as Reginald, and said, “Heads up, nigga. Bob Saget can dunk like a muhfucka.” I just laughed, shook my head, and walked away.

So we line up and pick teams. Kurt Russell and Bob Saget were captains. Saget decides to shoot “die” for ball. “Alright, Bobby. Gimme yer best shot … I can take it.” said Russell, in his John Wayne-esque voice. I recalled it as being one of his exact lines from his smash-hit Big Trouble in Little China. His psyche-out worked, and Saget missed. Russell chuckled.

But Saget took it personal.

Game on.

So we’re at 4-2, and Russel’s team is ahead. Always competitive, Saget keeps trying to shoot off the post. After missing a few easy hook shots, Simon Le Bon, the lead singer of Duran Duran, gets right in Saget’s face. He starts calling him Danny Tanner.

Clang, he misses another.

"Nice shot, Tannah.”

Clang.

“Why don’t you go home and get your fucking mop, Tannah,” Simon Le Bon says through his thick English accent.

Well, Saget gets really pissed and starts calling for the ball. He posts up, says, “I got your Danny Tanner right here, motherfucker!!” He gets the lob, catches Simon in the nose with a vicious ‘bow, and two-hand jams over the top of him, leaving his balls right in Simon Le Bon’s face, screaming, “You hungry like a wolf now, bitch?!”

Le Bon had to be carted off to the hospital to be treated for a broken nose and the worst case of tea-bagging I’ve ever witnessed. Nobody, and I mean nobody fucked with Bob Saget. Ever. I learned that real quick.

It didn’t end there, though. Mark-Paul Gosselaar -- you know, “Zack Morris” -- well, he was being a real show-off, and Duffy let him know he wasn’t having it.

Score is 6-5.

He checks the ball to Duffy, goes into his “Bayside High Killer-Crossover” move, and Duffy swipes at the ball so hard that he breaks Zack’s arm.

The Puerto Rican’s that were watching the game helped get him to a hospital, but not before they asked him, at gunpoint, if he could really do that “timeout”-thing from the show. And if he really ever piped Kelly Kapowski.

“What about Lisa, ese?” they asked.

“Hey, Victor, you remember when Zack was doin’ the homeless chick?”

“Si, the Christmas episode, hermano! That was a good one, holmes. She lived in the car wit’ her dad. So, lemme ask you, Preppie -- if you banged that punta in her room, would that have been the backseat or the frontseat, ese?”

Meanwhile, A.C. Slater (a.k.a. Mario Lopez), who was sitting in a chair he’d turned backwards (his signature move at “The Max”) subbed in and ran the point.

“Now we got a game,” exclaimed Kurt Russell.

Kurt, dressed in his skin-tight Boston Celtic’s shorts and green knee-pads, was being covered by Kirk Cameron.

Man, did he embarrass the shit out of the kid.

Now Kirk had been saying that his knee was not %100, claiming he’d blown it out on the set of Growing Pains in a one-on-one game with Alan Thicke, but Duff told me he was full of shit.

Anyway, Kurt Russell went 12 of 18 from the field and lit us up for 27 points and 14 boards.

Weeks later, they found Cameron’s body in a Wendy’s dumpster outside of Philly.

After the game, we all went and got ice cream.

Speaking of Politicians...

2008-03-19T10:49:00.003-04:00

Da pump = cumming

"Take ya toy back to da cahpet!"
-Det. John Kimble

Oh, Hillary...

2008-03-16T17:32:00.004-04:00

Forget policy. Forget agenda. Forget race or sex. This song is why Obama will win the Democratic nod:

The only way this song could be any worse is if Nickelback had performed it.

A Letter to Sonic Drive-In

2008-03-06T21:51:00.010-05:00

Dear Sonic,

Over the last three years I've spent living in the Glass City, I've literally seen hundreds of your commercials. And last time I checked, commercials were designed to sell. Well, congratulations, Sonic -- you've sold me! You've sold me, and THEN some. I mean, your Supersonic Chili Cheeseburger? It looks friggin fantastic. Oh, and your breakfast? Shit, everything looks amazing. Cinnabites? Orgasmic-looking, if there is such a thing. And your commercials? Hell, they're actually kinda funny. I mean, sometimes I actually laugh -- not something I normally do when I see fast-food commercials (except maybe for the guy who yells "Get ME A WHOPPER" -- that shit is hilarious).

You know, sometimes I'll eat at shitty restaurants with shitty-tasting food and shitty service and shitty commercials --- just because I'm hungry. But when I can help it, I'll go to one that actually looks good AND has food that tastes good. And if it has actually decent commercials? Well, that's the tri-fecta right there!! I'm sold.

AND you guys are open 24 hours? Holy shit!! Jackpot! On late nights at 4AM after me and my free-form Jazz trio, the "Ray Barry Connection," finishes our set -- we would LOVE to go to your restaurant and eat chili dogs and fries and then wash it down a few of your ice-cold Cranberry Blast Slushees or whatever the fuck they're called!! What a thirst quencher (I bet)!!

That being said ...

Why are you fucking with me, Sonic? Hmm? Why? Seriously, is this some kind of joke? Is it a joke you're playing on me, because if it is -- it ain't funny. You go and over-saturate my TV with all your enticing and comical ads/commercials on a near-daily basis, making your food look oh so delicious, giving me wicked hunger pangs, selling me on this shit repeatedly --- only to have me discover that your closest establishment is 178 goddamn miles away? Why? WHY DO THAT TO ME??? Whats the point of that? What, in case I just happen to have have 2 HOURS AND 53 MINUTES TO KILL?

It's ridiculous. It's like a taste-bud cock-tease. You can't dangle delicious food in front of me day in and day out, only to tell me, "hey, sorry kid -- we're not in your city. Actually, we're not even in your area code. Sorry."

That shit ain't right Sonic!! It just ain't right.

But I happen to be a man who believes in a certain moral code: An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. So, you know what I'm gonna do? I'll tell ya what I'm gonna do: See, I got this friend in the sex industry, okay? And she's got the sexiest voice I've ever heard, no lie. So every single time I see one of your commercials on TV, I am going to have this girl -- in her sexiest, most erotic-sounding phone-voice -- CALL UP one of your establishments and do dirty nasty sex talk to the first guy who answers the phone. Manager, guy on drive-thru, whoever. And she's gonna moan and giggle and hum like only she knows how, and she's gonna get him ALL revved-up, maybe even convince him that she's a customer and she saw him and thinks he's hot and now she wants to give him a mind-blowing mouth party out in the parking lot or something ... and she's going to mind-fuck them like you've been mind-fucking ME. And THEN WE'LL SEE WHO'S LAUGHING, SONIC!!!!! THEN WE'LL SEE!!!

So here's the bottom line: you either open up a Sonic Restaurant in my area of Toledo ... or all your male employees will be walking around on their shifts with huge, aching boners, waiting for some sultry-sounding vixen to meet them in the parking lot, like she promised, only to never show up. Picture the boner-ific chaos that will follow. Is that what you really want? Is it? Well, think it over. I'll be awaiting your reply.

Your move, creep.

-Ray

A-MAZE-ing Interview with Dr. Carl Spagootz

2008-02-21T00:09:00.010-05:00

RAY: Hey there "True Stories" listeners. Joining me in the studio today is none other than Dr. Carl Spagootz, world-renowned MAZE artist.

CARL: Hello, there.

RAY: It's says here, Carl, that you hail from Basketcatch, Canada...

CARL: That's right...

RAY: ... and it also says that you "found an intense passion for maze-drawing since you were 4 years old. " Wow, what can I say about that? Carl, welcome to the studio.

CARL: Oh, yeah. Thanks so much, eh.

RAY: Carl, for our readers out there, what can you tell them about MAZES?

CARL: Well, that's a good question there. You see, a maze is a complex tour puzzle in the form of a complex branching passage through which the solver must find a route, okay? Not to be confused with a labyrinth, which, I mean, there's a HUGE difference in those, eh. See, a labyrinth possesses an actual through-route and isn't designed, really, to be difficult to navigate, despite the common uses of the word to indicate various complex, confusing structures.

RAY: Hmm, I see. So anyway, Carl -- you're from Canada.

CARL: That's right.

RAY: I have to ask -- have you ever met Geddy Lee?

CARL: Uh, no, I'm sorry, actually. I don't even know who that is, eh.

RAY: You ... you what?

CARL: Oh, uh ... I's just sayin I never heard of him before, eh. Is he into mazes or somethin?

RAY: Yeah, maybe mazes of incredibly complicated prog rock!

CARL: I don't follow.

RAY: Do you really not know who Geddy Lee is?

CARL: No.

RAY: GEDDY LEE -- lead singer and bass player for the famous hard-rock power-trio RUSH?

CARL: Uh, noo. Sorry.

RAY: You gotta be fucking kidding. You mean to tell me that you're actually from Canada ... and you don't know who RUSH is? It's the only good thing about Canada other than hockey!

CARL: Well, sorry, eh. Jeeze-oh-Pete! Just cuz I don't know who some band is!

RAY: Right. Gimme one sec here.

CARL: I mean, that's no reason to get all ... hey -- what are you doing there?? Hey! Hey!!! What's this all aboot!??? What the hell is this all abooot?

RAY: Now you die, syrup-man.

CARL: Hey, don't do that, eh! ... No!!!!

[end transmission]

Well ... I kinda just shot Carl in his face, so... Anyway, here -- go do this puzzle. Print out a copy and send me your results. I gotta go do some stuff.

**********************************************************************************

TRUE STORIES AWESOME MAZE-OF-THE-WEEK BONUS EXTRAVAGANZA!!!

-----------

V-Day is for Lovers -- NOODLE Lovers, that is …

2008-02-13T22:07:00.000-05:00

I’d like to take a moment this Valentine’s Day to show my love and devotion to an extra-special lady friend of mine.

Her name is Mrs. Weiss. And while I don’t know her first name, I can tell you this: I'd be lost without that old dame and her luscious soup recipe.

--+--

“Me and Mrs. Weiss”

You’re one hot older lady -- I think you’re a fox
Can’t wait to get home and tear open your box
You’ve burned me before, but I’d always forgive
Least it wasn’t the Clap, the herps or the Hiv
Sure I got with a few other soups in the past
And I’m sorry I cheated and banged Mrs. Grass
But no one can top you -- yo flava’s the best
I’m cooking some now, think I’ll give it a test:
I slurp down your broth, it’s so chicken-y
I simmer and stir you and want you inside me

"What's Beef?"

2008-01-31T22:29:00.000-05:00

"Beef is when you need two gats to go to sleep
Beef is when your moms ain't safe up in the streets
Beef is when I see you
Guaranteed to be an ICU..."

Today, I quote these wise words of the late Notorious B.I.G. for a very simple reason: because somebody GOT BEEF.

Who, you ask? Who's got beef? Well, I'll tell you who: fuckin RALPH MACCHIO, that's who. Ralph Macchio has BEEF (and rightfully so) with some guys in "Hollywood" because they RIPPED HIM OFF.

Check this out to see what I mean:

It's like everything that he and 'Pat' Norita (aka"Mr. Miyagi") ever worked for is gone. Insulted. Disgraced. All because some assholes over in "Hollywood" said, 'Hey man -- let's JACK the entire plot from The Karate Kid and make millions of dollars!!" And then his buddy, who I'm sure was fucked-up on coke, said, "Yeah, bro -- and instead of 'karate' , we'll use Mixed Martial Arts!" and then his partner says, "... Sweet! And we should totally replace the wisdom and sentiment of Mr. Miyagi with the stoic demeanor of the black dude from Blood Diamond! He's fuckin tuff bro!!"

And so: four 8-balls, 2 cases of room-temperature Red Bull, and a really kick-ass Nickelback/Creed/Papa Roach mix CD later ----- this crap-bath of a movie was born.

And that's when things got crazy.

Word on the street is that when Macchio saw the trailer (at the Rambo screening), he was super fucking pissed. Less than a week later, he was quoted in "The Source" magazine as saying:

"Yo, I got drama wit anyone affiliated with that bullshit Never Back Down. For real, I see anyone on the street, representin' that movie, wearin a Never Back Down t-shirt, whatever -- they gettin clapped up. Word is bond."

Word is bond indeed.

So what came of the incident? Well, it's funny you should ask. See, actually I had to fly out to L.A. last week to meet up with some dude named Judd Apatow (not sure who he was, but he bought like 4 of my scripts. Anyway, that's another matter). So anyway, afterwards I'm at a swanky L.A. bar, checkin out all the primo trim -- when who should walk in? The entire cast of guys from Never Back Down, dressed to the nines in crisply-starched MMA pants and sporting fingerless gloves. I knew things were about to get hairy. Macchio, meanwhile, is up on-stage finishing up yet another badass Delta blues slide-guitar solo ... when they caught his eye.

So Macchio leaps from the stage and starts sprinting toward his rivals, his crew right behind him. Now it was difficult to see what exactly happened or what was said, but words were definitely exchanged, followed by a few karate blows and some gunshots ... and when the smoke cleared, nearly half of the Never Back Down guys lay on the ground. And the whole time Macchio keeps screaming, "I'm a soldier! I'm a fuckin soldier!" while his crew is trying to pull him out the back door, the police sirens screaming in the near distance.

Bottom line: you don't FUCK with Ralph Macchio. Ever.

The funniest part of all this is that the whole thing could've easily been avoided. If these Nu-school a-holes had just paid a bit of homage to what Mr. Macchio had created, if perhaps the smallest amount of respect had been shown -- then maybe Hollywood's most dangerous man wouldn't have gotten so angry.

Point is, you don't just go and plagiarize an original idea like that. I mean, a story about a guy with a million-to-one shot to be the best who has to fight for the love of a woman all while being trained by an eccentric & wise elderly man? Clearly an original idea. You just don't go and steal something like that!!

Seriously, what's next -- someone ripping off he entire plot from Rocky? I guess only time will tell.

Reflection For the Day

2008-01-30T21:34:00.000-05:00

"I thoroughly disapprove of duels. If a man should challenge me, I would take him kindly and forgivingly by the hand and lead him to a quiet place and kill him."

-Mark Twain

Tom Finally Sets The Record Straight

2008-01-24T23:41:00.000-05:00

I gotta say, I get real sick and tired of everyone taking shots at Tom Cruise. Every week it's something. People say, "Oh, he's batshit crazy" and "Oh, he turned Katie Holmes into a lobotomized robot" and "Oh, he literally sucked his way to the top early in his acting career." And I just get sick of it, I really do. I mean, we're talking about "Maverick" here, for Christ's sake.

I mean, look -- Tom is one hell of a guy. We all remember Oprah's couch, right? Well, I, for one, thought that was really romantic, jumping up and down like that. Insanely laughing in front of 7 million housewives like that. Then again, I also thought 'being romantic' was proposing to my wife during the part of Die Hard when Bruce Willis jumps off the top of the Nakatomi Plaza high-rise with a fire hose tied around his waist just as the building explodes. Sure, she still married me, but ... well, I'm pretty sure she hates my guts for it.

But man, that part is fuckin sweeeet.

Anyway, the point is: Tom's not crazy. And in this (much-circulated) video, he PROVES it. This is his testament, his good word. This is Tom SETTING THE RECORD STRAIGHT, once and for all.

At no point does Tom ramble incoherently about absurd Scientology theories.

Nowhere in this interview does Tom claim that HE has the answers that will help all of humanity.

And not once does he laugh maniacally for extended periods of time.

Wait ... no, actually I guess he does do every single of one those things throughout the interview, but at NO POINT does Tom act crazy!

See for yourself:

(Sure it's 9 minutes, but trust me it's worth it)

"TRUE STORIES EXTRAVAGANZA BONUS CLIP OF THE WEEK!!!"

TOP FUN BONUS video:

What gets me about this part is that Tom/Maverick is SOOO bummed to leave this game to go have sex with Kelley McGillis. He's like, "Awww, man. I gotta go have sex with Kelley McGillis. This fuckin blows!" He could have EASILY played a 7-Game Series with those sweaty Naval pilots and listened to Kenny Loggins jam the fuck out of "Playin With The Boys" all day long --- And who could blame him??

(whispering)

"Talk to me Goose."
-Maverick

I'll Give You A War You Won't Believe ...

2008-01-05T19:38:00.001-05:00

On January 25th, I shall bear witness to Rambo, the 4th installment in Sylvester Stallone's epic John Rambo saga. I can tell you without much reserve that I myself will be rocking a little green-jade Buddah necklace throughout the entirety of that magical day. Will I be packing a 14-inch survival knife with a compass in the handle at the time you ask? You bet your ass I'll be. God forbid I should get injured in the theater parking lot before the movie starts ... but if I do I want to be sure that I have the fish hooks and fishing line contained in the handle of my knife ... in order to be able to stitch myself up. You know, in order to survive.

Will I wear a red headband to the theater, you say? Maybe. But only if my Vietnamese girlfriend dies in my arms right before the movie. Knock on wood.

I'm also preparing for the occasion by making my friend Kevin sharpen sticks in my basement (as we speak). It's just like I used to do when we were kids. You see, I was a few years older than Kevin and ... "WHAT THE FUCK??? MAN YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS BACK DOWN STAIRS RIGHT NOW DUDE OR I WILL KILL YOUR WHOLE GODDAMN FAMILY IN THEIR SLEEP, YOU HEAR ME???!!!!!" ... Oh, sorry. He wanted a glass of water. Anyway, I was a bit older and my mom used to babysit for him and ... well, you know how kids are!

Anyway, in this film (from what I can tell), John Rambo is older. And wiser. And I think he's grouchier. He's a pissed off old dude. Instead of just stabbing a guy in the heart with his ridiculously-large (and fucking sweet) bowie knife like he used to, old man Rambo is ripping out dudes' throats and making guys explode after he's already killed them. Which is pretty sweet. But apparently age has not tamed the man.

So, needless to say -- I'm pumped. And you should be too. Because John Rambo is an American hero. Why? Because he killed a lot of guys in 'Nam. And he is still killing guys in 'Nam. And he's doing it all for you. So show some gratitude.

Anyway -- see you in line on January 25th! I'll be the vagrant with the military-issued sleeping bag slung over his shoulder. The one who looks like he needs a bath and a haircut --- maybe if he had one he wouldn't get hassled so much. Hopefully they'll just let me get something to eat.

And remember: "When you're pushed, killin's as easy as breathin."

TOP 10 THINGS I’D LOVE TO DO THIS HOLIDAY SEASON (BUT PROBABLY WON’T HAVE TIME TO)

2007-12-07T18:10:00.000-05:00

1. Go outside and make a snowman that looks just like Burl Ives (“Siiiiiilver and Gold …”). And then punch his goddamn head off.

2. Translate the lyrics of “Feliz Navidad” into English and finally see what all the fuss is about.

3. Invite Daniel Stern over to my house and set it up so that when he goes to use my bathroom he switches on a BOOBIE-TRAPPED light switch that will electrocute him and release a swinging paint-can that will smash him in his face. Then when he walks out of the bathroom he’ll slip and fall on some Micro-Machines. When it’s all over, I make him finish up his visit with a life-lesson voice-over (a la “The Wonder Years”) before I throw him out.

4. Watch the timeless classic "A Very Saved by the Bell Christmas" at least five times this year. I never get tired of seeing how fast Zack Morris can get a homeless girl's pants off using only a Chick-Fil-A sandwich and waffle fries as bait. Remember when her Dad was shaving in the mall bathroom? What a bum -- literally!

5. Put on the hi-fi and listen to Rush’s epic, classic 37-minute rendition of “Hava Nagila.”

6. Freeze a body part to a flagpole. Doesn’t matter which one.

7. Sneak into the JCC and swap out all their Hanukkah food with non-kosher food! Boy will those Jews be salty!

8. Chop-and-screw the “Chipmunk’s Christmas Song” and find out once and for all who is really doing all that singing (I know it’s you, C-lo).

9. Convince the Senate that forcing a reindeer to put on a FAKE black nose in order to cover-up his shiny red one is in fact a hate-crime (Donner, you’re an ASSHOLE – he was your SON!).

10. Catch Santa as he comes down the chimney and make him do drugs with me.

TOP 5: WORST NFL COMMENTATORS

2007-12-01T18:27:00.000-05:00

1. Bryant Gumbel
2. Cris Collinsworth
3. Greg Gumbel's brother, Bryant
4. The guys who do Thursday Night Football on The NFL Network
5. Bryant Gumbel & Cris Collinsworth

Gatorade Guy -- R.I.P.

2007-11-28T21:00:00.000-05:00

Dr. Robert Cade, the guy who invented Gatorade, died Tuesday of kidney failure. He was 80.

There's not much I can say right now that can't be summed up in this song:

I'm pourin' out a 32oz Riptide Rush for ya, homie. Thanks for helping me overcome a decades-worth of hangovers.

"...Ugggghh ..."
-Master P

Email From a Concerned Reader

2007-11-19T18:59:00.000-05:00

I received this email earlier today from one of our dedicated readers. It reads as follows:

Dear Ray,

I have read your blog since it first debuted in the spring of 1974. My friends and I would spend countless hours protesting the Vietnam War, then we'd come home, gather around our stolen NASA computer box and read all of your incredibly hilarious posts. It always amazed me that you found the time to post every week, despite your busy lifestyle. I mean, I'm sure that being married to Diane Keaton, writing dialog for "Potsie" on Happy Days, and blowing the lid on the Watergate scandal was very, very time-consuming. And yet, you still managed to post new material on your site -- every week. Material that made me alternate between manic laughter and uncontrollable sobbing fits nearly 52+ times a year. And I always respected you for that.

But lately, Ray, I've been depressed ... and its ALL YOUR FAULT. Why? Because you let me down. You let me down and so I'm just gonna come right out and ask you this because I need to know: Why have you NOT posted any new content in over two weeks on "True Stories," Ray? Why??? Why are you toying with my emotions, Ray? Why, why, why, why, why, why, WHY??? Do you want me to suffer? Do YOU want to suffer? Why are you doing this to me? Can't you see I need you??? I want you inside me.

I told all of my new friends at work about your blog -- numerous times. I plastered MySpace with bulletin after bulletin after bulletin about how awesome I thought your blog was. I even tattooed a tribal lettering of "True Stories" all the way around my lower leg, which (in some religions) means that when I'm reincarnated, I won't have that leg in my next life.

But apparently that's not good enough. No, no, no, it's never good enough for you, IS IT, Mister Man?? Apparently you enjoy making me look like an asshole. Well I hope you're happy, Mister Man. Happy, happy, happy! Everyone at work hates me now. My only friend left on MySpace is Tom. And worst of all, the guy who did my tattoo was (I think) really, really stoned and he spelled "Stories" with a "Y" (True Storys). And after I die, I'm gonna lose this fucking leg!!!

So thanks a lot for ruining my life. It all must come down now. Burn in hell. Burn in hell, burn in hell. You don't even love me. Careful on your *drive* to work tomorrow ... I still love you. Eat the flies, burn the rubbish. Chase the dogs away, mind the gutters. Green is gold, forget no plates. Make seeds and dry houses.

- Linda C, Harrington, NV

Wow. Now if that isn't passion, I don't know what is. "True Story", err, "Stories" readers are the best, hands-down!! Thanks for reading, Linda! I'll keep posting, you keep lovin life! PS -- I'd LOVE to see that tat; send us some pics!

Better Watch Out

2007-11-17T01:45:00.001-05:00

Just moments ago I received an urgent telegram from The North Pole.

And you're not gonna believe this: it was from Santa Claus, the head honcho himself!

Here's what it said:

Ray-- Did you see this shit yet?

http://www.denverpost.com/commented/ci_7470303?source=commented-news

Basically they're telling me I am not allowed to say Ho=Ho-Ho anymore. Bunch of horseshit. People got no class I tell ya. Every FUCKING YEAR I put together a pretty goddamn GOOD DEAL for the entire world AKA I drop off billions of dollars worth of free shit to about 43Million houses +++ FOR FREE, mind you == AND == I do it ALL IN ONE NIGHT, and now I'm being censored?? Fuck that. I'm Santa I say WHAT THE FUCK I WANT.

Speakin of, what do you want for Christmas this year?

LAter hoe,
Santa

Man, Santa is STEAMED! I know some Aussies who won't be getting any boomerangs this year! Oh, wait -- can I say that?? Is that an offensive statement? ? Oh man, it seems like everything is un-PC these days, like everything you say can upset just about anybody. Man, I shouldn't have said that. Shit. I guess all I can hope for now is that no boomerangs read this website. Fingers crossed...

A Letter to Dick's Sports

2007-11-03T14:18:00.000-04:00

Dear Dick’s Sporting Goods,

Recently I was in the market for a speed bag. You know, the classic piece of boxing apparatus made famous by Sylvester Stallone in the Rocky movies (a bunch of real-life boxer guys used ‘em too). But first, I did what any American shopper would do: I looked online for the best price. I checked out MCSports.com, eBay, Buy.com … but then I thought, “Hmm, now who has everyday low prices and a great selection of items for all your sporting needs?”

Why, Dick’s Sports of course!

And so, I checked out DICKS.COM. But that wasn’t your website. Not even close. No, instead it was exactly what you might think it was: a whole bunch of DICKS everywhere. Wow, there were so many DICKS. And they were EVERYWHERE.

Now, I’m not saying that I was looking for this speed bag while I was at work or anything, okay? I mean, it’s not like I was on the internet during work when I had this really super-important project that I needed to get done or anything, okay? But if I had been, can you imagine wasting valuable work time shopping for training equipment and then suddenly having your boss walk by as you click on DICKS.COM and see a vicious onslaught of oversized cocks invading the monitor and bursting out of your cubicle? Because if that happened, that would suck, Dick’s Sporting Goods. It would suck bad.

Bottom line is: I’m mad! You really should have considered the consumer when you named your store after an inherently funny word. Yeah, I know it’s a guy’s name, dummy, my Grandfather’s name is Richard and they used to call him Dick back in the day -- but having the hottest prices in town AND a name that when you type it in the address line it takes you to the gayest website on the Internet is NOT COOL.

So what do I want? Nothing. At least nothing you can give me. Can you give me my innocence back? Doubt it. I just ... didn’t need to see that. I didn’t want to see what I saw. I wanted to see a piping-hot price tag on one of your best-selling speed bags, not a piping-hot dump being taken on some German guy’s chest by a dude they refer to in the gay community as a “Big Bear.” Again, NOT COOL.

No longer a customer,

Ray

PS -- When do the new Jordan’s come out?

Winter Prep 2007

2007-10-25T17:09:00.000-04:00

Having lived in the Midwest all my life, I like to think that I know a thing or two about getting ready for “Old Man Winter” and all his fury. Actually, it’s not much of a “fury,” per se, but more of a “wrath.” Ehh … even that sounds a bit harsh.

You see, “Old Man Winter” is old -- very old. He doesn’t see too well (hence all the squinting) and his judgment is just about shot (hence the erratic behavior). So, dealing with winter is actually more like being on the road on a Sunday during church-time, surrounded by slow-moving Cadillacs and Park Avenues -- it’s dangerous, scary, and incredibly unpredictable.

So in order to help you prepare for “The Old Man” (AKA “winter”), I’ve put together a list of useful tips and helpful information, gathered from my years and years of experience dealing with the cold.

Tip #1 – Never Clean Your Gutters
I can’t stress this one enough! In my experience I’ve found that letting your gutters fill up with water and freeze is actually a GREAT way to insulate your home. Plus the gigantic stalactite-esque icicles that your gutters will produce also gives your home a very festive wintry look, perfect for creating that “Winter Wonderland” you sing about each December!

Tip #2 – Don’t Rake Those Leaves!
“Leaving” the leaves (yeah, I said it) where they are is a great way to keep your grass warm and dry all winter long. Think of that layer of fall foliage as a sort-of “long-underwear for your lawn.” If your grass could talk, it would say, “Boy am I toasty!”

Tip #3 – Crack Your Windows During the Day
Everyone knows that the daytime is warmer than the night time (cuz it’s when the sun is out, dummy!). So, open up your windows and let all that warm, sunny air into the house. Sure it may feel cold, but looks can be deceiving. You see, each one of those air cells has been roasted by the sun’s ultraviolet-rays prior to entering your home. Once they’re inside, they’ll “pop” and release a burst of hot energy (scientifically known as “heat poppers”), warming your home from top to bottom!

Tip #4 – When Things Get Cold, Turn on the Oven
Fire marshals may disagree, but blasting your oven or broiler with the door open is a great (and cost-effective) way to add supplemental heat to your home!

Other tips:
- Don’t drain your hose. Simply tie the ends into a knot and save all that summertime water – it’s full of valuable nutrients

- Forget the defrosters – instead, use hot water on your windshield each morning

- When driving in the snow, always accelerate as fast as possible and “peel out” your tires. This ensures that the rubber portion heats up, turning your car into a literal “Chariot of Fire” that will melt away any snow you encounter

Q & A with Bob Golic

2007-10-17T20:08:00.000-04:00

We all know that Bob Golic played the lovable (and sometimes abrasive) resident adviser on the hit series Saved By The Bell: The College Years. But did you know he also played professional football?? In the NFL? It's true! And here I thought I was watching yet another of Lee Strasberg's proteges at work (the other being Mario Lopez, obviously). But nope, he's just a former pro ballplayer who happens to be a terrific actor and comedian.

Anyway, "True Stories" caught up with the former ballplayer/actor and picked his brain about starring opposite teen heartthrob Mark Paul Gosselaar, how he got into pro football, and what it was like to punch Dustin Diamond repeatedly.

---

Ray: Hey Bob, great to have you.

Bob: Thanks, I'm a huge fan.

Ray: Thanks, I appreciate that.

Bob: No really, man, True Stories is probably my favorite blog of all time.

Ray: Cool, thanks.

Bob: No, I'm really serious. Your blog is awesome.

Ray: Okay.

Bob: I mean, like that one time, how you talked about faking a deep voice, oh man, and the time you were talking to Joe Pesci, who's like the coolest actor ever, and those shoe tips? Oh man, Rudolfo Struffansky's shoe tips are great, I actually just got a new pair of loafers and ...

Ray: Shut the fuck up, Bob.

Bob: Sorry.

Ray: It's cool.

Bob: I don't get interviewed a lot.

Ray: Right.

Bob: I'm happy to be here, though.

Ray: So tell me ... what was it like sharing the screen with one of America's great Modern characters, "Zack Morris"?

Bob: Oh, man, Zack was such a rascal, he was always, like, doing stuff, and then he'd come up with all these crazy schemes and stuff, and he would always trick people and ... he was great. Great guy, great guy.

Ray: Right. And so the "time-out"-thing ... that was real?

Bob: Oh, yeah, he had powers and stuff. It was really weird, you know, and like this one time? Oh man, this one time we were breaking for lunch, and we had these caterers come in every day and bring all this really awesome food, and pretty much every day I would always get there first and eat all the good stuff and then Zack would complain about how he was the bigger star and stuff and that he should get first dibs ... and anyway, so one day they brought out the food and I made this really big sandwich and it was pastrami, which was Zack Morris' favorite, and so right before I took a bite, Zack yells out, "Time-out!" and then he switched my sandwich with a big turd! And then he called "Time-in" and I ate, uh, this really big turd. It was really, really funny! He was such a funny guy.

Ray: That's amazing. So what happened after that?

Bob: Well, Zack and Slater, they started blaming Screech...

Ray: Dustin Diamond?

Bob: Yeah, Screech, and so they blamed him and so I beat the crap out of him and wound up hurting him pretty bad and then they had to re-write the entire episode so that Screech got into a car accident and he had to wear a body cast the whole episode.

Ray: I remember that one.

Bob: Yeah, but the cast was actually real, cause I beat him up pretty bad. You know, for the turd?

Ray: How did you get into the NFL?

Bob: I got drafted by the Patriots in '79.

Ray: Oh, I see.

Bob: Yeah.

Ray: That's very brave of you.

Bob: Yeah?

Ray: Yes. A lot of men avoided the draft all together. Many of them went to Canada. Still others faked homosexuality, some even faked insanity. But, no, not you -- you took it on the chin.

Bob: What are you talking about?

Ray: Tell me, how hard did you punch Dustin Diamond? Describe it in as much detail as possible.

Bob: Well, first I punched him in his nose, and like blood and stuff was everywhere, and then I punched him in his gut, and then he started throwing up everywhere. Oh man, it was sick! And then I just, I don't know, I just kicked him a lot until he was passed out and then we went and did the next scene.

Ray: Any regrets about Saved By The Bell?

Bob: Yeah, one. I should've fought Slater.

Ray: Really?

Bob: Yeah, he's a douche. But I'm such a better actor than he is, so I don't feel too bad.

Ray: Agreed!

Bob: Oh, and I probably would've inprovised -- is that how you say it?

Ray: Improvised?

Bob: Yeah, improvised. I probably would've improvised a lot more. I'm a really good improv-er.

Ray: So I've heard.

Bob: Yeah. Most comedians are. But oh well. It was a great experience. I mean, I got to be on one of the greatest shows in television history, I starred in the made-for-tv movie Saved By The Bell: Las Vegas Wedding, and I was an analyst for the XFL for like 7 weeks. Can't beat that.

Ray: Exactly.

Bob: And I was an NFL lineman for like twelve years, too.

Ray: If you could change one thing about history, what would it be?

Bob: Anything? Any point in time, any historical event? Like JFK or Jesus or something?

Ray: Any point in time.

Bob: Hmm... I would probably go back in time and punch Dustin Diamond again. He's kind of a dick-hole.

Ray: Can't argue there! Well, anyway, Bob, I just want to say thanks for stopping by. We'd love to have you on again.

Bob: My pleasure, thanks for having me. Oh, and to all you fans out there, make sure you check out my website, it's www.BobGolic.com/. It's pretty cool. There's like pics and stuff. And make sure you grab Saved By The Bell: The College Years seasons 1-3 on DVD -- Kelly Kapowski and I did some great, great commentary on there!

Celebrity/Musician Double-Threat Hall of Fame Inductee #2: Steven Segal

2007-10-09T18:18:00.000-04:00

The ponytail. The fatal Aikido death-strikes. The Under Siege saga.

When you think of Hollywood "legends," a handful of names automatically come to mind: James Cagney. Humphrey Bogart. Marlon Brando. John Wayne. Steven Segal.

Steven Segal is a master of many talents. Some might consider the man to be a genius; a Renaissance man, if you will. His illustrious acting career has kept him on top since the 80s, and his practice of martial arts keeps him incredibly fit as the years go on. His amazing physique has been marveled at for some time now, and will continue to do so for years to come. Some say he has the body of a man half his age, but much shorter and with only one working leg. And with terrible asthma.

But aside from Segal's incredible acting talents, his killer bod, his lethal Aikido moves, and his amazing hair (which, for some reason he keeps hiding with bandannas -- c'mon, Steven, let those locks fly!), did you also know that he is an accomplished musician and a radical guitar player? Neither did I, until I saw it myself.

So last week I Googled "Best Actor/Musician EVER" and who's name should appear? Will Smith, David Bowie, Sting, Mark Wahlberg, Meatloaf, Ice Cube, Ice-T, Jack Black, Lyle Lovett, Eminem, Harry Connick Jr., Jared Leto, etc, etc, etc.

But THEN I typed in the word "Martial Artist" next to my original search and did another search and then guess who's name should come up?

You guessed it: Steven Segal.

And let me tell you something: music-wise? This guy is good. His lyrics are incredibly introspective. His voice is sultry and soulful. And his guitar skills? Holy shit --the guy has some serious chops. His skill is literally unmatched by anyone who has ever done an action/revenge film AND played a Gibson Flying-V.

So on top of his acting chops, the guy's got some amazing guitar chops. And plus he's got a vast array of deadly Aikido chops. So, I don't know about you -- but that's a lot of chops!!

So without further ado, I present our next inductee:

The Wolf Shirt: An All-American Classic

2007-10-05T17:05:00.000-04:00

INTRO

Wolf shirts. You've seen them -- they're everywhere. At the supermarket. The stadium. Wal-mart. NASCAR events. On numerous episodes of COPS.

But are you truly aware of the awesome power that these great pieces of mythical apparel hold? Do you know how much tuffer they make you? Are you aware that your chances of impregnating someone increase by over 700% if you're wearing a wolf shirt during the time of intercourse? It's scientifically proven*!

Today, we take a closer look at how the Wolf T-shirt became a modern-day phenomenon and a staple in American fashion ... and how it changed the world forever.

ORIGINS

The wolf t-shirt was invented in 1985 by Rick Spindleshank of Jaredsberg, Arkansas. Legend has it that Rick was sitting on his couch watching television, when suddenly -- he had a revelation:

"I was sittin' on the couch, drinkin' some tallboys and whatnot. Fer some reason, I said to myself, 'Man. Ain't nothin' tougher than no wolf.' Funny thing is, I wasn't even watchin' nothin' bout no wolves, neither. Shit, at the time, I was watchin' Plinko on The Price is Right. But then all of a sudden, I got this idea: I said, 'Man. I should put a wolf on the front of a shirt!'"

From there, the rest is history. Rick developed the idea and began production, all the while unaware that his idea would revolutionize modern clothing styles for the rest of time.

"So I had the idea bout them wolf shirts, and I couldn't get it outta my head. So I called up this friend of mine named Slim ... cuz, see, Slim used to make these bootleg Hypercolor t-shirts, but see, they ain't never worked right on account of him stumblin' across the color-changin' chemical formula one night when he was tryin' to cook up some meth. So the shirts never changed color right, and whoever wore them shirts wound up in the infirmary with chemical poisonin'. But so anyway, Slim had a t-shirt machine in his trailer and so I went down and I told him bout my idea and we started drawing up, uh, protocols or whatever and then we made us some killer shirts, man."

The wolf t-shirt business took off like a rocket. Rick sold more wolf shirts than he ever could have imagined.

The following year, however, tragedy struck Rick's life:

"Shit, man, one day, some fancy-suit-wearin' sombitch came by and he said, 'Hey, man, I wanna buy yer company.' And I said, 'Hey, you listen to me, you son of a bitch, Wolf Shirt Incorporated ain't fer sale, buddy.' And I poked him wit' my finger to show him I was serious and everything. And then he opened up this real fancy-lookin' briefcase, and he pulled out 25 tickets to go see Bad Company LIVE for that weekend, and then he gave me $500 bucks, and so I said to him, 'Hey pal. You got yourself a god-damned deal.'"

Rick later lamented: "Man I wish I'da held out fer a thousand."

CULTURAL IMPACT

Wolf shirts have permeated our culture at and astonishing rate. It's been estimated that 1 out of every 3 Americans owns a wolf shirt of some kind*. Scientists also estimate that by the year 2087, nearly half of the world's population will own some sort of wolf-related clothing*. And during a recent study done at the Harvard Avenue Research Center for Science, it was concluded that wolf shirts will play a large role in human evolution for years to come.

Educated scientist Carl Sanderson had this to add: "It's proven that women are more attracted to men wearing a wolf shirt then men who are not. So, when choosing mates, women will more times than less choose one who is wearing a wolf shirt, simply because these men are seen as being tougher and more desirable than their non-wolf-shirt-wearing counterparts. As this number continues to rise, more and more people will need to adapt in order to procreate. So, you see, wearing a wolf shirt will not only be incredibly fashionable -- it will be necessary as a means to survive."

With these kind of numbers, it's difficult to argue the fact that the wolf shirt has permanently fixated itself into our popular culture.

It should also be noted that the Hollywood "wolf-wear" is on the rise. Distinguished actor Peter Weller, of Robocop fame, apparently never leaves home without a wolf t-shirt on. As one urban legend has it, Weller apparently wore nothing but a wolf t-shirt underneath his costume during production of the film Robocop. The same has been said about John Stamos during his infamous portrayal of "Uncle Jesse", though this fact has yet to be proven.

Nevertheless, the wolf shirt is here to stay. It is often viewed upon by many as a symbol for numerous ideals and values: Badassness. Tuffness. The ability to fight. The ability to punch someone really hard. And most importantly: animalistic sexual prowess. What started as one man's simple idea has transformed into a status symbol for some... and a way of life for many.

To learn more, visit your local library and ask a librarian to direct you to the "Wolf T-shirt section," where you'll find a vast collection of information about the history and cultural impact of one of America's greatest innovations ... the wolf shirt.

*No science was involved in this scientific study.

Quite Possibly the Best Guitar Solo of All Time ...

2007-10-03T00:20:00.000-04:00

Special thanks to long-time "True Stories" fan Chris S. in Houston, TX for finding this lost gem!

Rudolfo Struffansky's Shoe Tip of the Day

2007-10-01T19:52:00.000-04:00

"You should always waterproof new shoes after purchasing them."

-Rudolfo Struffansky, 1943

-Thanks, Rudolfo! That's sounds like a real time-saver. Keep those tips comin!

Celebrity/Musician Double-Threat Hall of Fame Inductee #1: Joe Pesci

2007-09-28T01:19:00.000-04:00

So Joe Pesci, right? The Goodfellas guy? Yeah, well it turns out that he's a HUGE fan of "True Stories."

And so anyway, he emails me, okay? And in the email he asks for my home phone number, so I give it to him, and so he calls me up and he basically goes on and on about how great I am and how much he loves this site and blah blah blah, and so I'm all humble, like, "Oh, c'mon now, Joe", but then he was all like, "No really, kid. You're fuckin' amazin'."

So anyway, he goes on & on some more about this and that and, well, finally at the very, very end of our conversation, he says (real seriously), "Hey kid -- I want you to check out some new jams ... okay? I got some new jams I want you to hear. Can ya do that for me? That somethin' you can do, kid?"

So I said, "Okay, yeah, sure." And so -- I listened.

Well, it turns out, one of these piping-hot jams that I was hearing was recorded by none other than Joe Pesci himself! Truly unbelievable!

How would I rate his performance, you ask? I'll put it to you like this:

Joe Pesci doesn't spit FIRE on this joint.

Joe Pesci doesn't spit HOT MOLTEN LAVA on this jammed-out classic.

No. Joe Pesci spits UNSTABLE URANIUM on this motherfucker! Dear Lord, it's amazing!!

Check it out:

DEEP-VOICED MEN HAVE MORE BABIES

2007-09-25T12:18:00.000-04:00

Yeah, that headline sounded odd to me, too -- but it's true. Why? Because it's on MSN News, that's why!

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20959452/from/RS.2/

Actually, I've been aware of this little fact for quite some time now. You see, I was born with a voice that tends to be a nasaly ... and at times it can get a bit high-pitched. Yeah, I know -- what a homo, right?

But you see, I didn't let my debilitating vocal chord tone ailment get in the way of living a happy and successful life. I didn't let my pussy-voice bring me down. No way! Instead, I faked it! That's right -- I faked a deep voice for the last 8 years of my life, and it couldn't have worked out any better.

I faked it all through college, and I made lots & lots of friends -- many of which I'm sure would never have even talked to me if I didn't have such a cool-sounding voice. And with all those friends came a bunch of cool nicknames, like: "Deepy", "Bass Guy", "Man Voice", and "Low Voice Dude."

MAN, I miss college.

But it didn't stop there: I even faked it when I met my girlfriend there. I faked it all throughout our courtship, I faked it when I married her, and even now, I STILL fake it -- when I'm yelling at all SEVEN of our kids!

DEEP VOICE = LOTS OF KIDS

Sounds like success to me!

Wanna know how I did it? Here's how:

1. Talk in a really deep voice
2. Do this all the time so people don't know you're faking it
3. Never talk in a high voice (unless you're a girl)

And that's it -- nothing else to it!

Sure you'll be deceiving everyone around you, including yourself, and you're parents will think you've hit a THIRD growth spurt at the age of 27, but SO WHAT!

You'll have tons and tons of BABIES!

And you'll be happy, just like me.

Support Team USA!

2007-08-19T17:03:00.001-04:00

I know I'll be there ...

http://www.worldbeardchampionships.com/

"What Am I Doing Here?"

2007-07-28T23:29:00.001-04:00

That's a valid question when contemplating both the purpose of life AND your visit to this site. The answer should become clearer as you continue to read, so keep reading! The answer about the blog I mean ... not life. Asking 'why we are here' in terms of questioning 'why are we on this earth' is not something you should really ever ask or spend time reading about. It would be a complete waste.

I received 1,178 emails this week. Here's what one of them said:

"Hey, Ray, whats up! I'm a HUGE fan. Anyways, I love the new site. So what is it? And what am I supposed to be looking for? Whatever. Call your mother -- it's her birthday. I'm sure you probably forgot."
-Dad

So you see, the fans have spoken! And THAT is exactly what you can expect day in and day out on this blog. Loads of fun, excitement, and great emails like the one you just read. Don't forget to bookmark!