Cold Case?

Nearly a decade has passed. The perpetrators remain on the prowl. And most disturbingly, the public has seemingly lost interest. 

But yet, the question remains...

Who let the dogs out?

This horrific, inhumane act of defiance was first brought to our attention by the upbeat, pop-reggae musical act 'Baja Men'. A whirlwind of fame and popularity followed for these gentlemen, yet no one seemed too concerned with the welfare of the freed canines. 

Cynics will argue that Baja Men served not only as the town criers, but as the criminals themselves, releasing the hounds in a complex scheme to propel themselves into pop music superstardom. 

But the Baja Men were never formally arraigned on charges, as the public and most law enforcement agencies were cast under the spell of the group's musical atrocity, and like every other American, left asking 'Who let the dogs out? Who? Who? Who? Who?'

Needless to say, PETA activists were quick to attack both the Baja Men and law enforcement for their gross negligence in the matter, but not even the PETA-induced tidal wave of guilt could spurn accountability from either side. 

And that, perhaps, is what plagues this case today, in the waning days of 2008:

Who, of all these people, is accountable? 

Until someone steps forward with answers, with truth, the public can only sit back and ponder the fates of those poor, innocent animals, who were so abruptly and inexplicably freed from their chain-link penitentiaries in what must have been a glorious moment of unbridled canine joy, but what soon spiraled into a dark and uncertain dose of reality - that no one is going to put that food in your dish anymore. No one is going to scoop your poop, brush your hair, or take you for walks anymore. 

No - this was suddenly the ultimate 'walk' - the walk of Life. 

As for WWKRD, we came to our own conclusion.

They're dead.

Pigskin

What a zany, action-packed weekend of football! A few standout games:

- USC/Ohio St. - Ohio State rolls into Tinseltown sans Beanie Wells and leaves sans dignity.

- Auburn/Miss. St. - Final score 3-2. Even the narcoleptics were changing the channel on this one.

- BYU/UCLA - It appears the Mormons were not happy about a throng of liberals threatening their holy land. Final score 59-0. This means that USC should beat the Bruins by roughly 175 points.

WWKRD recognizes the SEC as the nation's strongest conference, and is excited about this weekend's slate of games, including Florida/Tennessee, LSU/Auburn, and Alabama/Arkansas. Our mild stunner of the week is Vandy knocking off Ole Miss.

In a perfect world, every day would be an autumn Saturday, but alas, we're stuck with Tuesday.

Brent Musburger...

...needs to perish in a fiery plane crash. He's one of the few people on this earth that can actually make watching college football a miserable experience.

Bring back Keith Jackson!

Only In America

Having been immersed in Hurricane Ike coverage for several hours now, WWKRD has come to the conclusion that professional athletes should be removed from their pedestals and replaced by on-the-scene weather reporters.

Case in point- The Weather Channel. For years, this network has initiated newb reporters by throwing them into the fire, alone at the mercy of Mother Nature. We've all seen it - helpless saps being pelted by golfball-sized hail, tossed about by tornadoes, drilled by hurricane-force winds...

Will someone please tell us why that isn't worthy of a six-figure salary, but running up and down a field tackling another man is?!

Maybe it's just WWKRD, but consider these hypothetical stat lines for a pro football player and a seasoned weather reporter:

Football Player: 500 career tackles, 3 Pro Bowls, 2 Division Championships, 1 Super Bowl appearance.

Weather Reporter: 18 Hurricanes, 12 tornadoes, 3 tsunamis, 2 earthquakes, 87 direct hail hits taken, zero microphone-related electrocutions

Seems to me like Mr. Weather Reporter puts his brass directly in the face of danger to a considerably more dangerous degree than Mr. Jock, yet where's all the fame and glory?

There isn't any. Why not? Easy...

Money. Mr. Weather Reporter isn't bringing in the green backs like Mr. Jock. Perhaps if there was some sort of corporate-sponsored Weather Reporting League, things would be different. Each network pitting their finest against one another, seeing who could come the closest to death without croaking - it's sort of like bullfighting in a way. Fans across the nation would have fantasy Weather Reporter leagues, tearing their hair out each week for their shot at imaginary accomplishment. Think of the marketing and merchandising potential - being able to buy your favorite reporter's rain slicker, or his/her own line of industrial-strength umbrellas. Hell, how about a Weather Reporter video game?? Hop in the news van and chase the tornado, arrive before the competing network does and get off the first live shot. The revenue projections are mind-boggling.

But alas, there's not much revenue or marketing potential for weather reporters. You'd think that America would latch on to these brave, selfless souls, dedicating their lives to informing and protecting the public. But no, we'd rather cheer on a bunch of brainless oafs and prima donnas, many of whom never finished college, several of whom having lengthy criminal records - a handful who've even been accused of murder.

It's time to wake up, America. It's time to recognize the next generation of heroes. WWKRD salutes you, Mr./Mrs. Weather Reporter.

Ike Carrumba

WWKRD would like to send wishes of good fortune to all those affected by Hurricane Ike. We'd like to remind you that now is not time proper time to prove your manhood by weathering the storm. Rather, we'd prefer you evacuate to safer territory so that you may live another day to read the blog.

If you are forced to leave your nagging wife and/or annoying kids behind in order to ensure your own safety, WWKRD stands firmly behind you on that decision. It is often necessary to make sacrifices in times of catastrophe, so when in doubt, save your own hide first.

WWKRD Political Corner

WWKRD would like to introduce a new segment, the WWKRD Political Corner. And while it is not the mission of this blog to choose sides, or bicker over 'who wants this' and 'he said that', it should be noted that yours truly has come up with a solution that would serve the best interests of the entire nation. Democrats, Republicans, Independents, Greens, Whigs, etc.

"Bryant, what is the solution?" you eagerly ask. "I can hardly contain myself - is there really a political tandem that could serve all my interests, as well as the interests of all my opposite-minded fellow citizens?"

"Why yes, there is" I say.

Clint Eastwood for President, and Kurt Russell for VP.

"Sweet holy mother of pearl," you say, as you retrieve your jaw from the floor. "Genius!"

Genius indeed. Imagine the reactions of Kim Jong Il and his cohorts when Dirty Harry and Snake Plissken enter the nuclear arms summit, throw their boots up on the table, and fire up a smoke.

"Hey there, Short Stack - you sure you want to threaten us with a nuke?" Clint would ask, in that trademark, cool, raspy manner. "Because I'm tempted to just shove that bomb right up your happy, Coke-bottle glasses-wearing ass."

Naturally, Kim Jong Il would cower in fear. Kurt Russell would strongarm the Koreans out the door, and that would be that. According to my calculations, an Eastwood/Russell ticket would produce nuke-free, worldwide harmony in approximately three and a half weeks, with a couple days tacked on for air travel.

"But Bryant, what about the Eastwood/Russell policies? I'm an homosexual, unemployed, paraplegic, single mother of four that makes under $24,ooo a year - surely they can't help me!"

Simple. Just refer to the Eastwood/Russell campaign motto: "Tough shit. Get over it."

Genius. Who would have thought that such a simple formula could solve all the nation's problems.

Had unprotected premarital sex, did you? Popped out a few babies? Probably should've thought about that decision a little bit more, don't you think? But you didn't. And now you want a handout from the government. Well - "Tough shit. Get over it."

Been unemployed for seven years? Still relying on Uncle Sam for your cash flow, which you promptly turn around and cash in at the local liquor mart? No worry - Eastwood/Russell will have your happy tail out looking for a job in no time. How, you ask? Simple - they eliminate welfare - the ultimate luxury of the lazy. "Tough shit. Get over it."

Oppose gun laws and gay marriage, do you? What do you think this is, 1920s Alabama? Eastwood/Russell don't tolerate ignorance. Gun control and gay marriage for everyone.
Oh, what's that? You don't like that idea? Well "Tough shit. Get over it."

Wake up, America. Who wants to vote for candidates with questionable levels of experience, confusing policies, or antiquated bias?

Vote for the duo with nearly a combined century of proven ass-kicking, name-taking, result-getting experience.

Eastwood/Russell '08

Recommended Viewing

For those of you new to WWKRD, I've compiled a list of recommended viewing, so that you can get to know Mr. Russell a little bit better, and further your understanding of this blog's mission. 

Kurt got his start as a child actor in Disney flicks, and actually played professional baseball for a short time before returning to Hollywood. He made a splash in the underrated comedy Used Cars, before bursting onto the scene and kicking copious amounts of ass in John Carpenter's classic, Escape from New York., in 1981. Are you writing these down? Good.

The next year, Kurt kicked some more ass in Carpenter's The Thing, then, having kicked a more than adequate number of asses in two years, took a few years off before making his glorious return to the silver screen.

In 1986, Kurt churned out what might be his greatest performance in Big Trouble in Little China, in which he portrayed Jack Burton, a blue-collar wise ass who overcomes seemingly-insurmountable odds and kicks the most Chinese guy ass since Genghis Khan. You absolutely must see this movie, or else WWKRD will not recognize you as a true enthusiast. 

It's safe to assume that Mr. Russell kicks ass, often literally, in almost all of his films. Here are the remaining recommendations, so that you may witness the greatness that is Kurt Russell:

- Overboard (1987)

- Backdraft (1991)

- Captain Ron (1992)

- Tombstone (1993) - If you've seen this, you know

- Stargate (1994)

- Executive Decision (1996) - One of the greatest unexpected deaths in cinema history takes place in this film. note: It's not Kurt

- Dark Blue (2002)

- Death Proof (2007) - Another iconic Russell role, this time directed by WWKRD fave Quentin Tarantino

Happy viewing!

Shameless Self-Promotion

Greetings, fellow time-wasters. You stumbled upon the initial post of what surely will become one of your favorite daily, or semi-weekly web visits. Well, probably not, but it at least gives you an excuse to lay off of Google Earth for a few minutes. 

Right now, you're probably overwhelmed by many questions - 

- Bryant, why is there a large photo of Kurt Russell on your blog?

- Furthermore, why is your blog named after Kurt Russell?

- Why do you even have a blog? That's stupid. Plus, you aren't funny and can't write. 

- What is the fastest way to exit this blog?

That's fine. Questions are welcomed here, even dumb ones. 

I'll do my best to make you feel comfortable here, and soon Kurt Russell's face will be a homing beacon of sorts, a glowing front porch light on this, your familiar front doorstep of a blog. 

Simply put, this blog is a tribute to Kurt Russell because he represents all that is still right with man in this, the Era of the Metrosexualization of Man. Women, you know what I'm talking about. Men, believe it or not, there is a 96.275% chance you have fallen victim to the soul-sucking trends of metrosexualization in recent years. Even yours truly nearly fell into the dark depths of this tragic monster. But I was saved. I was saved by men like Kurt Russell. Men like Clint Eastwood, John Wayne, and Nolan Ryan. Men who would look at a typical fake-tanned, hundred-dollar haircut, designer jean-wearing, waxed-eyebrow, techno music-blasting douche bag and say - "What the hell is wrong with you, son?!"

For it is not those superficial fads that this blog represents. It is the simple pleasures of manhood that women and metrosexuals can never take away from us. It's the joy of that fresh-out-of-bed ball scratch. Or that cathartic, ass cheek rippling fart right after you kiss your girlfriend or wife good night. It's drinking beer and watching football when your girl wants you to go bedspread shopping. It's not shaving your chest hair. It's proudly wearing your high school district championship t-shirt at age 29, because you know damn well your team would pound the shit out of those current underachievers. It's Dirty Harry marathons on AMC, MXC on Spike, and pixellated porno on channels you can't afford. 

This is a blog for men. Real men. And women, I guess you can read, too. I can't really stop you. Heck, maybe you'll learn a thing or two. 

Now, as for those other questions - first, I started a blog because I feel the world needs to hear my voice, my unique opinions and wordly knowledge and expertise, and - hell, who am I kidding? I just have an abundance of free time and need a distraction. 

And if you really want to leave, just click that little 'X' up in the corner. And go screw yourself. 

For those who choose to stay, welcome. And enjoy yourselves, and together we will do our part to bring a little respect back to the manly men left out there. 

Just like Kurt Russell would do.