This story of professional wrestler Ric Flair attempting to throat slam a man out of his Toyota vehicle before kicking it could only be cooler if he had slapped him a couple times and said "Woo!" afterwards.

I'm from North Carolina. So, of course, I have a few Flair stories. For those who don't know, he's a LEGEND in the South.

1. I remember attending a "wrasslin" match in high school in which Flair was the main headliner. At this point, if you were a fan, you had to squint your eyes a bit because his body was starting to get really old and droopy-looking. So much so that it became comical. One guy that was sitting two rows up from me at the event had his homemade sign (it was a televised fight) taken from him by security. What did it say? "Ric Flair Has Saggy Man Boobs." I thought it was funny.

2. I once had a run-in with an extremely intoxicated (and saggy) Flair at my school's top hole-in-the-wall biscuit establishment, Time Out. I was with friends and we were memerized by one of childhood idols who had stumbled in at 2 AM to get a chicken and cheese biscuit. Did we ask him questions, have him sign autographs or take pictures with him? No. We were college students so we hazed him by making him do the "Woo!" sound over and over again. He even started integrating a little "Woo! I LOVE BISCUITS!!" and "Woo! Eat em all the time!!" in there. Okay. Maybe you had to be there.

I saw L.C. and Jason from MTV's "Laguna Beach" walking through the 4th floor of the Grove parking structure last night. The 12-year-girl inside of me thought it was a totally awesome D-list celebrity sighting. Especially since Jason is such a humongous dingleberry with no social skills and a artificial beard (it doesn't grow, ever!). She was, of course, driving him around in her white GMC Yukon because he probably realized that his Shriner's clown car isn't nearly as cool as he thinks it is. And when they got to the parking attendant, manwhore Jason got out of the car and went over to kiss her, right in front of L.C. It was so scandalous.

Okay, everything but that last part. But it could have happened. The only thing I kept wondering is if they always drive that gas-guzzling monster to the Grove. Because, you know, L.C. lives at the Palazzio right across the street (I knowed where you live, girl!). I bet she wanted to walk and he was too lazy. I hate him. And his fake drawn-on beard.

I would see this ballet (which, yes, would make it my 1st ballet) just for the scene in which Edward's friends push him around on stage while he tries to ride his first scooter with scissors. Much more difficult than Running With Scissors, that is. Scootering With Scissors.

To clarify my state of mind, I've been sick the past week and a half and I've been put on a doctor-ordered diet that restricts me from drinking caffiene. So the news that FOX has canceled another show (aka Thursday night's "Reunion") I enjoy comes at a rather unfortunate time. Especially since I just threw my three-hole punch at the empty cubicle right next to mine. Its metal remains erupted into a poof of paper holes that I probably will leave for the cleaning crew to pick up later tonight. I'm way too depressed for such nonsense. I'm going to have to stop watching the network's shows all together. It's like I'm putting all my eggs into the same basket, only to lose the basket weeks later. So I just walk around in a daze with a bunch of eggs, no basket, no idea of where I buy baskets, muttering to myself how "Sliders" was really cool or how "Freaks & Geeks" made me cry with laughter once. It's really upsetting.

DAMN IT FOX!! STOP RUINING MY LIFE!!!!!! AAAAAAGGGHHH!!

must. get. back. caffiene.

I always thought I didn't want to see this movie.

And I didn't.

Also, WTF is Timothy Hutton doing in this movie??

Sound the C-list celebrity horn!!! I saw Amy (aka Joey Lauren Adams) and the guy that played Hellboy and Beast in the "Beauty & The Beast" TV show (Ron Perlman) at the Mayfair Market last night. I think they were both buying groceries, which means we have something in common. RIGHT ON!!! JLA was with some scruffy-looking dude and her voice still sounds like she's a 12-year-old with a 4 pack a day cigarette habit. And the Beast's head is freakin' huge. While waiting in line, I think he caught me trying to see how many gallons-of-milk big it was. FYI, it was nearly 2. But, of course, that's just an estimate.

I would like to thank the gorgeous ladies of Girlspoke for inviting me to be the first dude to ever penetrate the sexy fortress known as the Girlspoke Drunkcast. I've always wanted to know what I sound like after two beers and now...I guess I do. I sound the same.

Go here and listen to all the hotness now.

And for more Spoke-tastic orgasmosity, try their 2 new sites, which I have already added to my Bloglines, ensuring that I will definitively be fired someday soon for reading too many blogs.

Decent Content
Boyspoke

Celebrity Zombie Hunting.

Think about it.

"He's out there."

"But he's dead."

"But it says he still lives there."

"This thing is new. Shouldn't it point...to his grave?"

(DUH DUH DUUUUUHHHHH!!!)

"He's got more jokes to tell. He'll never leave. Oooooo!!!!"

"Zombie Comedian."

Also, Dean Cain lives uncomfortably close to me!

Try it yourself: Celebrity Maps

I don't like your threatening tone, Gigantic Billboard Oprah. After you saw the Ring, you at least had 7 days before you died. You know, some kind of warning. But this is bullshit.

GUTTENBERG!!!

Pony Boy.

Doug Coughlin.

Robocop.

IN THE SAME MOVIE!!!!!!

This really should be in movie theaters. IMAX even. It's like my ideal fantasy TV movie of the week team. I would have sprinkled some Zabka in there, though. But I infer that Robocop probably already holds the enforcer role, so I understand. I'm starting popping popcorn in preparation tonight. Guttenberg better be in the movie more than he is in the preview or I'm going to cut someone.

Why is Sylvester Stallone so gosh darn sad looking?

A) He flexed so hard he bruised his bicep
B) The guy whose porch he's on, while frightened, punched him in the bicep
C) He's remembering that horrifying shower scene in The Specialist
D) He just realized he's old and crinkly looking
E) All of the above

Loving Gawker's Jason Lewis/Lindsay Lohan post yesterday, today is going to be all about unique interactions with the famous. Sooooo, I thought I would let one of my best college friends, Dick Highcram (fantastic alias, man) come on board for a guest post about the time he told Ashlee Simpson that she sucked absolute donkey balls as a singer. I can verify that this story is 100% true. Not because I was actually in the room at the time, but after hearing the stories from both male parties, separating them and doing the whole prisoner's dilemma/Law & Order thing, they didn't crack. Enjoy.

**********
From: Dick Highcram
Sent: Tuesday, November 15, 2005 4:43 PM
Subject: The Ashlee Simpson Story

After college I moved to Hollywood to be a "writer," which really meant that I wanted to continue being a drunken ahole and live in a city where no one would judge me because in a city like LA, being a drunk pales in comparison to sodomizing everyone you see in a physical, professional and spiritual manner, which is the most common vice in that lovely town. And, no, I never sold a script, or even finished one for that matter. My first year was a little hazy. I spent a lot of time listening to Queen and Randy Newman records in a dark room in North Hollywood. This normally led to sitting naked Indian style in front of my TV at 3 in the morning watching You've Got Mail and sobbing. When that got boring, which was rare, I sometimes made my way to Saddle Ranch to drink bourbon and ride the mechanical bull before driving my car up into the hills and playing chicken with the deep, dark ravines.

A couple of my ahole friends moved out there with me to be "actors" and somehow one of them ended up running in the same circle as Ryan Cabrera, who is produced by the Goo Goo Dolls and mentored by Joe Simpson and dates/dated Ashlee Simpson. And well, that pretty much sums that up. Ashlee and I ended up in a position where we had to interact with one another several times, and I imagine this was just as painful and confusing for her as it was for me. In fact, I'm pretty convinced that she and I do not speak the same language, so I can't recount much of what she said, either because what came out of her mouth caused me to instantly black out, or because my brain was too addled by substances to comprehend her. It doesn't really matter.
But I do remember our last time together. I seriously can't explain how I found myself in her apartment, but the best thing I can come up with is that my douchebag actor friend was banging one her roommates. She still had roommates because her politically charged smash hit "Pieces of Me" had not been released yet.

The players in this drama are myself, young Miss Simpson, young Miss Valderrama (Wilmer's sister), and my sweaty Greek friend. In all likelihood, my Greek friend and I were present for the absolute nadir of these two girls' lives. I think I was speaking Spanish to Valderrama, because I figured that her skin was darker than mine, and that she must speak Spanish, I can't remember whether she actually did. I do recall that I had her cornered and she looked frightened.

Then the night took a turn for the fantastic. Ashlee started singing. My friend and I could not believe our insane luck, we were actually getting a free preview concert of the soon to be critically acclaimed selfless "Pieces of Me." Fortunately for Valderrama, Ashlee's throaty groaning distracted me. I stopped swaying, I stopped slurring, and my lazy eye departed. In a moment I had become completely sober, although not entirely rational.

And then came the defining moment in my relationship with Ashlee Simpson. Valderama asks me what I'm sure she thought was a rhetorical question, "Doesn't Ashlee have a beautiful voice?" The question hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity as I tried to grapple with the feelings that this innocent question had stirred inside me. My friend had a look on his face that could only be interpretted as, "Dick, Nooooooooooooooooooooo!" But that greasy Greek should know better than to hope to contain me.

I never saw Ashlee Simpson again after that fateful night but for all of you that have been subjected to the punishment of her music, for all of you who were orally raped at the Orange Bowl or feel cheated by her whorish deceit on Saturday Night Live, you can rest assured that I started her off on the wrong foot by pouring forth all of your future vituperation into one tersely delivered statement.

Me: Do NOT ever do that again.
Her: (indignant sound)
Me: EVER!

~Dick Highcram

As if I didn't have enough things on my to-do list, now I have to add "Start My Own Reality Show" thanks to today's news of the January 2006 premiere of "#1 Single." If there was any way to program that show into my Tivo today (like RIGHT NOW damn you!!), I would. I so would.

My reality show, though, would be called "Follow Lisa Loeb Around To See If She Loves Me." Because as a 14-year-old boy, frequently transfixed by the music video for "Stay (I Missed You)" during the entire year of 1994, Lisa Loeb had this alluring and magical power over me. I think I even had a dream back then that we were dating and I had bought the bed from Bedknobs and Broomsticks to cheer her up. She seems like the type of girl that loves traveling without the use of mass transportation. And, hey, if we end up getting into some wacky adventures with a bunch of animated animals, so be it. We'd write a song about it. And then we'd have multiple babies with very poor eyesight to sing it to.

No, for real. If anyone knows where they're filming this thing, my email is to the right. I'm not saying I'm going to stalk her. But I wouldn't mind, ahem, following her around 24-7 until she realized we had the same tastes in the cool places to hang in NYC. Good stalkers blend in like that. Or so I've heard.

And in the Chicago Sun-Times, no less.

Bravo.

I remembered reading this website last week that astutely compared Chris Kaman to Old Biff from the year 2015 in Back To The Future 2 (aka the one with the hoverboards). I thought the resemblance was there but not quite spot on. It was missing something. Then, I was watching last night's losing effort versus the Philly 76ers when this revealing conversation occurred in the room.

"I guess he does kind of look like Old Biff."

"But he's got something else. It's as if Old Biff got trapped with the People Under The Stairs and used that built up anger to play basketball once he broke free. But, of course, he was still chubby and really really scary looking."

Here's a pretty math equation.

That concludes today's out-of-the-blue post about sports.

In all actuality, that's almost concave.

Is it possible to have negative boob?

Pending family issues, guys. Hope to be back next week.

In the meantime, check out the funny at these sites and those at that side thing down there:

Golden Fiddle
Thighs Wide Shut
Blagg Blogg
My Blog Is Poop
Words For My Enjoyment
Girlspoke

This is one of today's most viewed/emailed photos on Yahoo. Most people won't even get past the model's hind quarters to read the surprising caption:

A model parades in front of street children, some of whom are sniffing glue, in the drug-infested 'Barrio Triste' (Sad Neighborhood) in downtown Medellin in Colombia November 7, 2005. The event was organised to entertain the children by a member of a local charity that helps children in Barrio Triste by providing food, clothes and cleaning facilities.

Finally, a charity I can get behind. (Rim shot) Get it? Okay, not funny. But neither is the fact that these poor children have to sniff glue during the naked model charity runway show to enjoy it. That's just terrible. Almost as terrible as this...

When "The Tony Danza Show" first premiered back in September 2004, I bet one of my friends here in L.A. that Tony would have a "Who's The Boss" reunion on the show within the year. You know, as the lastest last resort to get ratings. Well, guess friggin what?

Yep, that douchehole just lost me five dollars by going a year and almost two months! So today, like every day, is No, Really, I Don't Care That Much For Tony Danza Day.

And, lastly, I want to bid a blegh farewell to the fast food sandwich that makes me throw up just to look at it: The McRib. Now, if McDonald's can stop confusing me by establishing some kind of regular double drive-thru window procedure, I'd be happier. The Taco Bell's first window has a lady whose sole job is asking what kind of sauce you want. She doesn't even give it to you. She just asks and punches in the data for the second window lady to give it to you. I'm thinking McDonald's needs something as worthless as Sauce-Choice-Lady. Cause she makes me smile. Maybe they could hire the glue-sniffing-kids from above to hand out straws in the first window? Then that would combine uselessness and charity, my two most favoritest things. Actually, someone in charge should hire me, just for that idea.

"Oh crap. I smell sand. Sand is near. You know what THAT means! Yeah. I'm going to throw it. Because that's my evil supervillain power. Sand or something sand...ish. Like throwing sand or flipping sandboxes over. Or, you know, stuffing it down your swimshorts after you've been in the ocean. Sometimes, I'll even granulate the sand even further with the help of my extremely more built right arm muscles and pour some in the outer edges of your ear while you're not looking. Oh yes. In your auricle. Then you'll get home and put your finger in your ear and say, "Dude, how did I get sand here? Curse you, Sandman!" But, seriously, I smell sand and it's somewhere in the city. If I don't find it soon, I don't know how I'll react. I might build a gigantic sand castle for some babies and then knock it down in front of them. Make them cry. Whatever it takes to do something evil that also involves sand. That's how I roll."

Dude. Seriously.

I just saw you at the Farmer's Market at the Grove. You were walking inside the entrance near Johnny Rocket's. I was walking out the opposite way with an enjoyable Frappuccino. I saw you coming from far away (I'm tall) and said to my friend, "It's Metcalfe. Dude got Gabrielle Solis pregnant, man!" So I began the high five motion in celebration as a show of manpower. You know, as in "good job mofo!" And what did you do?

You denied my high five.

What the hell, man? Not only did you not accept, you didn't even acknowledge the high five. I'm not crazy. Although I do it occasionally, I wasn't high fiving myself. This high five was intentional and it was disregarded like it was a pitiful low five. That was beat up, dude. You're on my non-high-five-acknowledgement shit-list. Party of one. Consider this a warning.

-Me

p.s. About your show, I hope the baby isn't yours anymore. I hope it is Carlos's and it comes out with a goatee and your non-high-fiving baby has to end up mowing his yard someday. Step to that.

Is Paris Hilton at the center of a huge crime drama??

Why was there was a huge cavalcade of vehicles at Paris's crib in the Hills O Hollywood last night? Someone said it was for a noise violation, but there were like THREE POLICE CARS and TWO SUV'S outside. That's a lot of man power for a noise violation. Could it be linked to Nick Lachey's disappearance? The Lakers' home opener loss? The fact that her boyfriend, Starving Nachos, poured a beer on a homeless dude's head? Pandemic Flu Dot Gov?

INTERNET, I WANT THE TRUTH!!!

UPDATE: Damn you, Internet. I want a much sexier truth!!

flea from the red hot chili peppers has a new blog
it's about nba basketball
which he likes
especially the team of kobe
he does not employ capitalization
or punctuation
but who needs those things
when you don't even wear clothes
to shred bass guitar

Rock bottom? Meet Nicole Richie.

FYI, while a corndog can contain a distastrous 300 - 400 calories, a tablespoon of mustard on the tip of your corndog only contains about 10 calories. So at least she's getting something, right? Right?

So, the NY Times is surprised Hollywood isn't a big Jews For Jesus posse? Uh huh. Groundbreaking journalism. You know what, NY Times? You're totally right. Hollywood should be courting the Christian audience more. So I've got an idea. Let's just start making even more remakes than we already are. Might as well. Let's make all the regular crappy remakes as well as a whole new crop of Christian remakes of mainstream films. Would that solve this growing "problem?" I'll even give some hungry Hollywood producers the first Jesus-esque ideas in 5 Ways We Can Randomly Put Jesus In Mainstream Movies To Make Them More Christian-y:

5. Back To The Future (But With Jesus)
The Plot:
Jesus is BFF with Doc Brown. Doc Brown builds a time machine. "I don't really need that, but okay," says Jesus. Some Middle-Eastern dudes kill Doc with a WMD. Jesus gets scared and takes the time machine back to the year 2 B.C. Mary's father hits Him jogging one day, takes Him home. Since Jesus is wearing Calvin Klein underwear from the future, Mary calls Him Calvin Klein. Mary falls in love with Calvin Klein Jesus. Calvin Klein Jesus finds Doc's great(times 20)grandfather and asks him what to do. He says, "Well, you're Jesus. Just keep your mom from falling in love with you. Remind her about God, divine intervention, space-time continum, yadda yadda, get out of there lickety-split and then teleport (or whatever you do) back to 2005." So He did. And all was good. The end.

4. The Silence of The Lambs (But With Jesus)
The Plot:
Instead of going through that long, drawn-out and violent process of cooperating with Hannibal Lecter, Clarice just asks Jesus where Buffalo Bill is. He tells her. Because that's what he does. CSI Jesus. The End.

3. Waterworld (But With Jesus)
The Plot:
Jesus turns all the water into wine. Makes it Wineworld. Everyone happy.

2. Karate Kid (But With Jesus)
A select scene from the film:

"I hear you jumped some of my students last night."

"Afraid facts mixed up."

"You calling Mr. Lawrence a liar?"

"No call no one nothing."

"What are you here for, old man?"

"Come ask leave Jesus alone."

"What's the matter, Jesus can't take care of His own problems?"

"One to one problem, yes. One to one problem while answer prayer, maybe. FIVE to one problem while also answer prayer, too much ask anyone."

"Is that what's bothering you? The odds? Well, we can fix that. Feel like matching, Mr. Lawrence?"

"Yes, sensei!"

"No more fighting."

"This is a karate dojo, not a knitting class. You don't come into my dojo, drop a challenge and leave, old man. Now you get Jesus on the mat, or you and I will have a major problem."

"Too much advantage. Your dojo."

"Name a place"

"First Baptist Church. Multicultural Room."

"You've got real nerve, old man. Real nerve. But I think we can accomodate you. Can't we, Mr. Lawrence?"

"But sensei, I'm Jewish."

"No mercy."

1. The Passion Of The Christ (But With Jesus)
Plot:
But wait, you say. Wasn't Jesus in the original Passion? He may have been, but I didn't see Him. When I think of Jesus, I think of the smiley Jesus I see in illustrated Bibles, helping people and preaching His word. Jesus liked to make people happy, like Bobby McFerrin. Where was that Jesus in The Passion? Where was the Jesus that likes rainbows, sun-babies and dogs wearing hats? Nowhere, that's where. So, instead of gross, bloody Jesus and Mel Gibson's insistence of subtlety, the new version will have happier G-rated Jesus. No blood. No violence. And a Raffi soundtrack. Just happy things. Like Mr. Dog in a Hat. He'll even tell funny limericks to Jesus while he's on the cross to lighten up the mood. Because Jesus loves the funny. See? Blockbuster guaranteed.

"You know what would be cool?"

"What?"

"If this Halloween, I ate a bunch of hot dogs, some ice cream and hung out with a gigantic BlowPop."

"That's a great idea! What are you going to be, though?"

"A fat ballerina!!"

"Of course. That makes perfect sense."

[Edit note: Uhhhhhhhhhhh.]

"Okay, guys. Raise your hand if you haven't been adopted by Angelina."

This is starting to seem like the time in high school in which I joined Key Club for a girl. I made it seem like I was all into it, and then, she was all like, "Hey, you're really good at this. You should run for Key Club President." That's when I was like, "Girl, the only club president I want to be is the president of Club You." Okay, I didn't say that last thing. But I was in over my head, just like Brad Pitt seems to be in this relationship with Angelina Jolie. She's got him narrating PBS specials now?? Talk about p-whipped:

Starting Tuesday night on PBS and ending Thursday (check local listings), Pitt will narrate six hour-long episodes of "RX for Survival: A Global Health Challenge," which follows health care workers and researchers struggling to contain disease among the world's poor.

"I've been involved with the issue of poverty — I've been studying it for about a year and half now," Pitt told The Associated Press in a phone interview Monday from Calgary, Alberta. "I think one of the major causes of that is health, global health."

A year and a half now, huh? Hmmm...wasn't that about the time you allegedly started you-know-what-ing with you-know-who? Or not, maybe?

What led Pitt to this interest in poverty?

"I don't know," he said. "To me personally, it goes back to the will to understand and that's what we're lacking most. So I want to educate myself as much as I can to understand the situation, to understand the solutions."

Okaaaay, then. Understand seems to be the key word. So, I want to understand that Brad Pitt's heart has grown three sizes in eighteen months. I want to understand that he's a zebra that's changed his stripes. I do. But I also want to understand unicorns are real and that they're just hiding from me. Or that Skittles pop out of rainbows if we squeeze them hard enough. Or that Santa Claus is reading my blog and that he's bringing me a 72-inch TV for Christmas this year. No, really. Do we understand each other, Santa? Make it HDTV. And put it beside the window. Thank you.

Related: Brad Pitt Understands Beach Walking