Happy Blogaversary To The Best Blogger Ever

Well, as of yesterday, this old blog (as opposed to my TV show in development, This Ol’ Blog) has been around for an entire year. That’s right, 365 days of shamelessly self-promoting articles at Den of Geek about Jackie Chan, making fun of Steven Seagal, and of course, tasteless jokes about dead celebrities.

And to think, when I first started this blog I promised I wouldn’t indulge in a lot of shameless self-promotion. Yet here I am, whoring my own links for fun and profit and theoretical dollars. If I wasn’t so awesome, my hypocritical stand would bother me. Fortunately, like most famous people, it’s do as I say, not as I do.

How I stuck with this shit this long I’ll never know.

Author’s Note: Here is Google’s top link for blogaversary. Is anyone really surprised? Newscoma > Internet

long haired freaky people need not apply

I’ve been letting my hair grow for quite some time. Why? I don’t know (which is the same reason why I grew my muttonchops). I’m just too lazy to get a haircut, I guess.

I’ve had long hair in the past, and while it was okay, it wasn’t great. Like, my world wasn’t changed the night I got stinking drunk on Red Dog beer and Tango (pre-mixed vodka and orange drink screwdriver) and woke up with my hair in a French braid (I also had lipstick and eye shadow on, but that’s for a totally different reason). It was just a thing I did in college because I wanted to look like a greasy, bloated martial arts star. Here’s an artist’s rendering of what that looked like (just add beard).

Because I don’t like shaving, over the last two weeks or so, I’ve grown a full, horrible beard, which combined with my wild, shaggy hair, caused one of my coworkers to send me a picture in work email with the subtitle “Ron, December 2008.”

While I have lost a lot of weight (135-150lbs) since I had my long hair, I don’t think I’m quite at that level yet. For one thing, my hair is very fine and thick, but also very straight, so it doesn’t really fall in waves like that unless I tie it back into a pony tail while it is still wet. For another thing, I’m shaped more like ‘bloated, about to die’ Jim Morrison than ‘light my fire in the panties of girls all throughout the world in the mid-60s’ Jim Morrison, even after losing all that weight.

However, I don’t think it’s a bad look, even for a gorilla like myself. I could possibly pull it off with a little bit of trimming to the beard. Since I’ve given up coffee (almost a month without my favorite non-alcoholic breakfast beverage) and cut way back on sodas and caffeine pills, I’ve got the tortured genius look down pat with the bags under my eyes and the general weariness that’s soaked into every clogged pore in my face since I still can’t sleep well at night (even having cut back drastically on my caffeine levels and cocaine intake).

The beard and crazy hair just ties it all together, just ask Ted Kaczynski.

Author’s Note: Yes, I have completely quit coffee and yes, it is torture. Every time I smell coffee I want to dash over and drink a cup or five, but because I figured sucking down enough caffeine to kill a horse every day was probably bad for me, I quit cold turkey.

Author’s Note 2: No, I haven’t actually quit doing cocaine. That’s only because I never started using cocaine; I’m a crystal meth guy. That’s why I’ve got such nice dentures.

Steven Seagal is a man-hating feminist

When Steven Seagal goes on an airplane and is given his free sack of nuts, do you think the stronger urge is to kick them across the plane, smash them in his bare hands, or deep-fry them? That question came to me last night after writing about Steven Seagal’s love of homoerotic ball-smashing. I’d just gotten out of the shower, so I imagine the sight of my own balls in the mirror filled me with a Seagal-like urge to kick the offending junk, rather than the usual futile attempts at autofellatio.

If you want to blame something for this post, then blame Den of Geek.

As I was writing about the death of satire and how David Arquette killed it (at least in America, and probably with a Seagal-like flurry of kicks to), I got to think. What was the best piece of satire I’d seen recently? Well, it just so happens it was Steven Seagal’s Mountain Dew commercial. A quick YouTube search revealed the video that set me off on a pun spree the likes of which may never been seen since years of Seagal scrotum smashings have undoubtedly left me sterile.

I think I’ve figured it out, and I’m kicking myself (in the dick, of course) for having not figured it out before now. Steven Seagal is a self-hating feminist. Why else would he revel in the mashing of man-marbles? He secretly wants to be a woman. Think about it: long hair; breathy whisper; love of silky, flowing garments not appropriate on men; full, supple breasts… the only thing that stops him from getting the snip and fold is the fact that he’d no longer be able to get off on paying a woman to perform fetishistic acts of genital torture on him.

Man, I am obtuse sometimes. All the signs have been there for 20 years, and I’m just now putting together the pieces. It’s sad, really.

Author’s Note: are these references to genital torture and autofellatio too disturbing for you, my faithful readers? Fear not, as I don’t try to have my own mouth babies, nor do I look at myself naked in the mirror after showering. My body is far too shameful and disgusting for that sort of deviant display. If I want to see that sort of thing, I’ll watch Animal Planet during Gorilla Festival ‘98.

Author’s Note 2: If you actually wanted to see that sort of thing, please keep it to yourself. I’m trying to run a classy operation here. I don’t want my highbrow discussion of the lesser works of Sir Steven Seagal, OBE, to be discussed amongst such lowbrow topics. Now back to watching a fat guy feasting upon the tenderloin area of his enemies with swift (yet dainty) kicks.

Steven Seagal is going to punch me in the groin

Have you seen the advertisements for the 2007 Steven Seagal classic, Urban Justice, on Spike TV? They picked up the cable rights as part of their Movies for Guys series, and as such, it’s the only Movie For Guys they’ve had on that has more than one person in it you’ll recognize. I’m sure it cost them as much as two reruns of CSI.

Steven Seagal stars as a man with a dark and violent past who seeks vengeance for… well, whatever he’s seeking vengeance for doesn’t really matter, because ‘violence-prone angsty guy with a ponytail’ describes every Steven Seagal character ever. He’s fatter than ever, more leathery than ever, and even more incomprehensible than you remembered, but he’s back and he’s completely without irony yet again! Co-starring Eddie Griffith, whose career must be completely over, and featuring Road House 2: Last Call’s Cory Hart (he does not race motocross, nor does he wear sunglasses at night, sadly). Also, Danny Trejo in it, which means it’s automatically the best Seagal movie since Executive Decision, because Danny Trejo is a fucking beast.

I say all this having only seen the trailer and the following YouTube clip, which pretty much cements this film’s greatness.

Steven Seagal smashes more testicles than a clog-dancing stripper with an inner ear disorder. This film has more deflated balls than the Spaulding factory outlet store. I think I need an ice pack just from watching that clip.

I think the only reason Seagal smashes so many balls is because that’s as far as he can raise his leg, but his fat laziness is no excuse for crushing more gonads into powder than a Chinese folk remedy pharmacy. Seriously, do a little stretching and try to kick above the waist, or just kick the guy in the kneecaps. Better yet, why not just punch the guy if your days of being able to kick higher than your gunt are over?

Lay off the testicle-based attacks, Cock Puncher. You’re going to end up with scrotum prints in all your loafers if you keep this up. Did you really need to kick that guy in the junk four times? Or grab that other guy by the coin purse like that? Anybody who makes the most brilliant beverage commercial of all time (and ruins my idea for a Seagal-based spoof movie I’ve had since 2000) should have more pride in himself than to spend 90 minutes scrambling some guy’s DNA while whispering nonsensical philosophy like yarbles-mangling Buddha.

I need a bag of ice to sit on.