What's In A Name? A Three Letter Word for Dynamite, That's What

Duane Chapman is the name I was born with and Duane Chapman is the name I will die with, but what you may not know is that Duane Chapman was not my legal name from 1977 to 1988. I wasn’t always the confident, ripped Dog the Bounty Hunter you see on your idiot box every week. I used to be one scared hombre, looking for the daddy I never had and I spent many years thinking he was either at the bottom of a liquor bottle or inside some trashy lady’s pants. Actually, my daddy was in a lot of trashy lady’s pants, but he wasn’t in the pants of the trashy ladies I knew. My point is, he was a grade A asswipe.

If you think I’m judging my biological father too harshly, riddle me this: who promised me and my siblings and my mama an above ground pool for three straight summers, then when he finally broke down and got one used it to host chicken fights in the backyard? Give up? It was my daddy! You try standing with your entire family – well, almost your entire family – in swimming trunks with towels slung over your arms and flippers on your feet good to go, while your daddy yells through a crowd of sweaty blue collar workers with wads of cash in their hands, “Quit nagging me! I’m working! Do you want to swim or do you want to eat tonight? Yeah, I thought so.”



Dad visiting with friends






Yep, I was quite the sad sack, a living, breathing country music tune all through my twenties and thirties, drifting from town to town, drinking and fighting and sexing up everything I could get my hands on. I even made love to a discarded typewriter desk one night, but that was after huffing Elmers glue and eating hash brownies for nine straight hours, so can you blame me?



Are you lonesome tonight?








I saw the original Rocky seventeen times after it came out Christmas of ’76, and by the summer of ’77 I was ready to change my name to Duane Balboa. Sly Stallone was someone I could relate to, and I can tell you it was a great feeling spending my last $3600 on a cutting edge Sony Umatic VCR so I could watch Rocky over and over again in the comfort of whatever hotel room I happened to be staying in at the time. The VCR was also great for doing arm presses with on the road, as it weighed nearly two hundred pounds.



Pirating movies was quite simple with Umatic VCRs







My new name was either going to be Duane Balboa or Duane Skywalker, and even though I’m not Italian, I am a stallion and Balboa just rolled off the tongue better than Skywalker. The paperwork went through on August 5th, 1977, but just as I was just getting used to the name, cruel fate would have Lynyrd Skynyrd’s plane go down deep in the bayou. As a founding member of the tribute band Skynyrdgy, and just as a general tribute to the most rocking band in the history of ever, I ate the cost of changing my name once already and changed it again on October 20th, 1977. The lady who processed the paperwork asked me if I was hiding from someone on account of changing my name so much, and if I was she thought the names Duane Balboa and Duane Skynyrd were not exactly the most inconspicuous of choices. Crazy broad.



Bettttttthhhhh!









Legally, I was Duane Skynyrd from 1977 until 1986, and by the time another Stallone classic Cobra rolled into theatres, I was ready for a change. I changed my name for the third time on July 15th, 1986, and until the fall of 1988 I was known as Duane “Cobra” Cobretti. Then after nine years of running from the truth, I finally realized that just because a dumbass handed his name down to you it don’t necessarily make you a dumbass, and so back it went to Duane Chapman. Thank goodness too, as it got changed back just in time for my audition on American Gladiators.



Skynyrdgy really lost its way in the '80s

1987…A Trip Back in Time

A wise man once said, “Aging…it ain’t for the wimpy.” I couldn’t agree more. Can you believe that it’s been over twenty years since Spuds Mackenzie first appeared in an ad for Budweiser? Spuds changed my life – he inspired me to make my trademark black sunglasses a part of my permanent wardrobe and his Hawaiian shirts first introduced me to the “Aloha State.” Most importantly, even though I’d been married a few times before learning of Spuds I never felt entirely comfortable around the ladies, but Spuds’ confidence and natural ease around the opposite sex seemed so darn natural, it gave me enough second-hand confidence to get out there and realize I could be of some worth in the eyes of a woman. If Spuds was not even the same species as a woman, but felt comfortable drinking brewskis pool side and looking like a cocky shit all day long, what was I so afraid of? As the ads said, that Spuds was a real “ladies-dog.” Heh heh.






The original spud muffin






So you can imagine it was a pretty big burn when it turned out that ol’ womanizing Spuds Mackenzie was actually a lady canine. That’s right, just like Benji and Lassie before her, Spuds was a female posing as a dude. What a blow to my masculine self-esteem. It was like I’d been taking dating advice from a tranny. I remember asking myself repeatedly whenever I needed a pick-me-up in the late eighties before heading off to whatever bar was having ladies night, “what does ‘ol Spuds have that this Dog doesn’t?” I didn’t expect the answer to be a vagina.

I remember buying a twelve-pack after hearing the news – not of Budweiser - turning the lights off in my van and crying. Scratch that, weeping. Ol’ Dog don’t like to admit it, but he’s got a heart the size of a barn door. It’s a long story why I was residing in a van, which is for another post, but I’ll just say that the fall out from being a famous child actor hits even the sturdiest of us pretty hard. In fairness to Spuds, he or she or however you think of Spuds pulled off the female acting as male thing better than anyone before Rosie O’Donnell. It took more than a few Hard Copy segments on the scandal to truly convince me that Spuds was a “she” not a “he.”



Spuds' lesser-known sibling Portobello Mackenzie. Spuds gave me the idea for the shades, but the leather was all Portobello's doing






Long story short, Long Tree Evil Eye (Spud’s real name) died at the age of 10 in 1993 due to kidney failure. 10 ain’t old for a dog, although Spuds probably became a drunk and a coke head from the trauma of constant gender identity confusion. Then again, I was surrounded by free beer for the first ten years of my life thanks to a drunk of a dad, and I turned out alright. Hollywood chews you up and spits you out faster than a rancid burrito from Taco Bell, and that’s got to be what did Spuds in so quickly.



The holiest of grails





Which brings me to my next point. Spuds has to be considered the best marketing dog ever. Sure, there have been others…that little Chihuahua from the Taco Bell commercials for instance. To be honest, though, it always made me uncomfortable imagining such a little dog ingesting so much Mexican food. I stand nearly 5’7” myself (5’10” counting the heels in my cowboy boots), and Taco Bell does a number on my lower trumpet at the best of times. Notice how we never hear of that little guy anymore? I bet the food he sponsored killed him in the end. Another wise man once said, “What we love most of all eventually destroys us.” Rest in peace little Mexican dog, rest in peace. Did they at least have the decency to bury you with that massive sombrero you wore so well?



A former Whiskas spokeskitten, and yet another victim of Hollywood over-indulgence




As a disclaimer, I have issues with Mexico in general right now, which might be flavoring my opinion of all things Mexican. I just hope my lawyers are thinking outside the bun on how to keep me away from a Mexican jail.

Fear Does Not Exist in this Dog

I was away for a few days attending what I thought was the 6th Annual Taser, Mace & Pepper Spray exhibit in Findlay, Ohio but the venue must have gotten changed around or Leland was just messin’ with me or something because what I ended up going to was the 2007 Flag City Air gun, BB gun and Cap gun show. I was so cheesed off I felt like going over and drop kicking the first person I saw, which happened to be that prick from the Cobra Kai Dojo on Karate Kid. This just got my blood a-boilin’ and all the memories of how he treated Daniel and Mr. Miyagi came rushing to my head faster than my daily dose of Flonase.




Careful with that finger Kreese. this Dog bites



I walked over and said somethin’ like “Hey Kreese, ain’t so tough without Johnny, Tommy, Bobby, Dutch and Jimmy around are ya brah?” He acted all dumb like he didn’t know what the hell I was talkin’ about. I figured he was up to something, probably trying to infiltrate the cap gun industry and bring it down from the inside to deprive America’s children their God given right to bear arms. Well brother, not on my watch. Once again he tried to be all nice and shit but I leaned in real close and told him I was onto his little scam and once I figured it out I would be back with Mr. Miyagi to kick some Cobra Kai tail. “Sweep the leg” indeed, I bet the only sweepin’ that tool is doing is at the local elementary school where he’s the janitor. I wish I’d thought of that line when I was in Ohio.

After a full investigation at the local bar, “A Salt and Battery” I found out that there was no scam, Kreese was just there workin’ off a DUI. I also found out that Mr. Miyagi is dead so the karate showdown at the cap gun show probably wouldn’t have worked out.





Mr. Miyagi as I'll always remember him






After downing several brewski’s in Mr. Miyagi’s honor I decided to “wax off” back to good ol’ Honolulu. Turns out that gettin’ me out of the house was a just a trick by the rest of the family so that “While You Were Out Hawaii” could come in and remodel the house. It was kind of a let down though because the crew apparently ran out of funding half way through so now I’ve got a inaccessible deck, half a basketball court with no net and a bar in the rec-room which is basically just two wobbly stools and a broken neon sign that reads “The Dog Ho”.





I'll never watch that show again




The only thing they did finish was the bathroom but they must have sent over one of those gay New Age designers for this episode because I gotta tell ya brah, I wouldn’t make the most tweakin’, wife beatin’ violent ice head take a dump in there.

The first thing I noticed was that they installed a talkin’ toilet paper roll that yells at you every time you break off a square. It lets you record any message you want. Beth suggested “please remain seated for the performance”. I think “This job’s the shits” is more like it because I seriously haven’t seen retarded talking appliances like this since the Flintstones.

The next thing I noticed was that an American Idol radio/microphone had been installed in the shower. I like singin’ in the shower as much as the next man but having it connected to amplifiers and built in speakers through the whole house is ridiculous. I don’t mind makin’ the neighbors listen to my rendition of “Call Me The Breeze” at 5:00 AM but I don’t think I want them to hear me scrubbin’ my balls at the same time.







Any requests?










A Color Fusion shower head was also installed. It changes the color of the water depending on how hot it is. I only take cold showers because I believe hot water carries disease and makes you sluggish and I need to be on top form 24/7. Anyway, when I went for my usual cold shower I freaked out because the water came out bright blue and I mean bright, like I was being pissed on by a Smurf. Well, I fell backward thinking I had eaten some bad Arby’s (if that’s even possible) and was hallucinatin’ or something and I managed to rip my Dukes of Hazzard shower curtain right off the rings in the process. Once Beth told me about the color fusion thing I calmed down but I might not take a shower for a week or two just in case I lose it again.





Color me embarrassed





The final blow to my bathroom and therefore my manhood was the installation of the Fish ‘n Flush toilet/aquarium. I don’t even want to know how this thing works. All I can say is, there better be some pretty hardy fish in that tank because when I come home after poundin’ back a few drinks my aim ain’t too good.




I hope plumbers have degrees in marine biology nowadays





I just want to forget this entire ordeal even happened. My only hope now is to call that walking crap stain Ty Pennington from Extreme Makeover Home Edition, punch a few holes in the walls and make some of my kids sit in wheelchairs when the ABC crew comes over so they will feel sorry for us and redo the entire house.

I Make This Look Good

A&E approached me a few months back about approving some apparel and merch to put up for sale on their website so that my fans could start living their life just like their hero, Dog the Bounty Hunter. I told them that prayer and vitamins probably wasn't what they had in mind, but that's what gets me up each morning and what tucks me into bed each night. Thank you God for your kindness, and thank you Quest Pharmaceuticals for your jumbo Vitamin C bottles. I also told A&E that if fans wanted real insight into what makes Duane Chapman tick, it's religion, family, working out, Mars bars, and the nicotine patch I wear on days that my lungs can no longer take my three pack a day habit. In that order.

After a bit of clarification, they explained to me that they were thinking of something more along the lines of baseball caps and t-shirts, with maybe keychains and coffee mugs to go along with the shirts and caps. Immediately, an idea popped into my head. What about a shirt that said, "The Law Giveth, and The Dog Taketh Away"? They told me that was a great idea, but that they had a creative team to come up with the actual slogans and pictures on the shirts, and that all they needed from me was my approval and for me to sign a few documents.




For those who can't make out the back it says, "I like to hear that God goes before us, Because he is the Biggest bullet proof vest of all." Amen, brah





After signing the papers and offering my services to the creative team one last time, I was told that I actually could help with something important: picking out what to put in a "Stakeout Essentials" package that would be featured on the merch website. Again, it took a while to get on the same page with everybody else, because I started thinking something along the line of mace, tasers, a replica of the sawed-off shotgun I technically am not allowed to own due to my limited authority as a bounty hunter, the case of Twizzlers I keep in the trunk of my SUV that I get from Costco for $15.99 the first week of each month...but again, they stopped me before I got too carried away.














The local Honolulu Costco. It ain't exactly what I'd call an intimate shopping experience, but I dare you to find flatbeds of meat or beer-sized keggers of mustard cheaper anywhere else

I remember this part clearly, because an A&E executive named Robert Feemer asked me slowly and deliberately, while pressing both thumbs against a bending pencil if I recall correctly, "What types of things do you use on a stakeout that are legal, affordable, and safe, which we could stamp a Dog the Bounty Hunter logo onto and sell to fans of the show?" And then it came to me. As much as I love chasing tweakers and huffers across parking lots and tackling them into the bushes of golf courses and apartment building hedges, I positively hate having to wait for them to make a move. Tweakers are on space cadet time, and so me and my team sometimes wait for days on end sitting in our SUVs talking and eating Carl Jrs., usually getting ketchup and mustard all over our expensive binoculars and night vision goggles. Damned tweakers.

Anyways, a must for every member of the Dog's bounty hunting team, yours truly included, is a comfortable throw pillow and blanket for those surprisingly chilly Honolulu nights.




Dog = Comfy









I also was told to say I like having one of those nylon, drawstring, fake backpack things on me that I don't understand why anyone in their right mind would own or use, but A&E insisted I say good things about, and finally what would a stakeout be without a Swiss Army Knife? Now this is a product I like.



Boys and girls, can you say, "Waste of money"?









This knife includes clippers to cut your toenails with, a washable toothpick to help get the Ponderosa buffet out of your teeth - should you be high rolling enough to eat at Ponderosa, that is...now that my show is syndicated, Beth and I eat there at least twice a week - and tweezers to remove unsightly nose and ear hair. What, you think the Dog looks this pretty by accident?



Ponderosa, our home away from home. Don't think too hard about how long the food's been out and you'll have a great time

I'll Take "Kiss My Ass, Alex Trebek" For $1000

So I was supposed to be on a taping of Celebrity Jeopardy with the guy who played Chewbacca and Burt Reynolds but Doug, my agent, screwed up again and I somehow ended up on the regular show with two people who were actually intelligent. Not only was I way out of my element I also missed the chance to get Burt to sign my Smokey and the Bandit 6’ by 8’ commemorative wall hanging Beth and I keep in our bedroom.












Breaker breaker, a lotta lovin’ happens under this wall hangin’. Roger that. Haha man that never gets old.

I was sent home with the Jeopardy board game but half the pieces were missing so the whole thing was pretty much a bust. The only thing I did get out of it was a transcript from the show:

THIS…IS…JEOPARDY!

Tonight’s contestants:

An electro-physicist from Portland Maine, Wally Marsh. A self-made bounty hunter from Honolulu, Hawaii, Duane “Dog” Chapman. And our returning champion, a Nobel Prize winning crypto-pathologist from Albuquerque, New Mexico, Rachael Peabody, whose 40 day cash winnings total 375 thousand dollars. Now, here’s your host, Aleeeeeex Trebek!

Alex: Thank you, Johnny. Welcome to the show everyone, as you know, Rachael has been unstoppable these last few weeks, lets get right into it shall we and see how our other competitors fare today.

Here are our categories: Metals, U.S. Presidents, Law Enforcement, The “Eyes” Have It, notice the “Eyes” in quotation marks there, Common Bonds and finally, Potent Potables where the ingredients of an alcoholic drink are provided and you must name that drink.

As always our returning champion goes first so Rachael, you have control of the board but before we begin can I ask you to put out that cigarette please Dog? Thank you. Ok Rachael, lets go.

Rachael: I’ll take U.S. Presidents for $200

Alex: He is the only President of the United States to have resigned from office…Dog?

Dog: Abraham Lincoln

Alex: The form of a question, please Dog.

Dog: Abraham Lincoln?

Alex: Phrase it as a question please.

Dog: Abraham Liiiincoooln?

Beep Beep Beep

Alex: I’m sorry you’re out of time…Rachael?

Rachael: Who is Richard Nixon?

Alex: Correct, go again.

Rachael: I’ll try The “Eyes” Have It for $800 please.

Alex: Frank Sinatra had a hit with this Al Dubin song in 1958…Dog?

Dog: Ahh, I know this…What is…I’d like to ask the audience please Alex.

Beep Beep Beep

Alex: I’m sorry Dog you ran out of time and I believe you are thinking of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire…Rachael?

Rachael: What is “I onl-

Dog: Turbo Lover

Alex: Dog, you can only ring in once. Sorry Rachael, go ahead.

Rachael: What is “I only have eyes for you”?

Alex: Correct, select again.

Rachael: I’ll take Metals for $1000 please

Alex: This “heavy” metal reacts variably with dilute hydrochloric acid

Dog: Iron Maiden

Alex: You must buzz in first, Dog…ok go.

Dog: Who is Iron Maiden

Alex: No…Wally?

Wally: What is zinc?

Alex: Correct, please select.

Dog: Oh I get it, it was the metal not the actual band, geez.

Wally: I don’t think you’re supposed to be talking to me right now.

Alex: Wally, please select.

Wally: I’ll take Potent Potables for $600

Alex: Please name this drink: 2 ounces rye whiskey, ½ ounce sweet vermouth, a dash of Angostura bitters…Dog?

Dog: What is a Bronx

Alex: No…Wally?

Wally: What is a Manhattan?

Alex: Correct.

Dog: Well where I come from we call ‘em Bronx’s because they’re a bit stronger, you know what I’m sayin’, Alex?

Alex: Yes, quite. Wally please select.

Wally: I’ll take Common Bonds for $800 please

Alex: Bad habits, footballs, buckets…Dog?

Dog: Things that are…what are things that are round

Alex: No…Rachael?

Rachael: What are things you kick?

Alex: Correct…Dog, stop holding your buzzer down please.

Dog: Well I think this thing is broken or something

Alex: Select a category please Rachael

Dog: Got a screwdriver on you, Wally?

Alex: Dog, please, let us continue the game…Rachel, go ahead.

Rachael: I’ll take Law Enforcement for $1000

Alex: This man captured fugitive Andrew Luster in Mexico in 2003…Dog?

Dog: Who is Domino Harvey

Alex: No…Wally?

Wally: Who is Dog the Bounty Hunter?

Dog: *expletive*

Alex: Dog, please, no swearing on this show. You are correct, Wally. We’ve come to our first break, Wally is in the lead with $2,600, Rachael has $1800 and Dog is trailing with negative $4,400. It’s time to meet our contestants, Wally Marsh is an electro-physicist, and it says here that you once had an exciting experience while on vacation Wally, tell us about that.

Wally: Well, Alex, my family and I were in Delaware, on our way to see the world’s largest collection of lint when my wife noticed that there was a bee in our car, not on the outside but literally right in the car with us. Well, she started screaming and I had to pull over. I knew I had to act fast so I rolled down the windows and we all jumped out, after about half an hour the bee finally left but it was pretty scary there for a while.

Alex: I bet, that’s pretty –

Dog: What kind of a bull*expletive* story is that supposed to be? C’mon.

Alex: Please, Dog, wait your turn, and again, there is no swearing on Jeopardy. Ok, next we have Duane –

Dog: Dog

Alex: Sorry, Dog Chapman from Honolulu and you are…kind of an interesting character-

Dog: What the *expletive* is that supposed to mean, brah?

Alex: Nothing, I just meant that your career as a bounty hunter makes you an interesting individual, and Dog, if you swear once more I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Tell us about your profession, please.

Dog: Well, mostly it’s trackin’ down ice heads –

Alex: Wait a second now, ice heads, what is that exactly?

Dog: It’s someone with a head full of ice, Alex. Anyway, when they jump bail we track ‘em, catch ‘em and send ‘em back to jail, Hawaii style.

Alex: And what kind of style is that?

Dog: Uhh…pretty similar to the styles of other States I guess.

Alex: Now, I noticed that you smoke, and all of America now knows you swear. Isn’t that somewhat contradictory to the clean living lifestyle you press onto the people you capture?

Dog: What am I on trial here?

Alex: Just answer the question, please.

Dog: Here’s an answer for ya, ‘This man kicked the living *expletive* out of Alex Trebek for askin’ too many questions!’

Alex: Ok, get security out here please. I’ve had enough of this.

Dog: Want the question mother*expletive*? Dog the *expletive* Bounty Hunter, that’s who!

Alex: That still wasn’t in the form of a question, moron. Ok, cut to commercial please.

End Tape












Go back to Canada Trebek, wherever that is.


Who would have known that the security at Jeopardy would carry tasers? Looking at the multiple burn marks on my chest I would say they were the Max Jolter 3000, that’s a decent model. Anyway I was thrown out before I could compete in Double Jeopardy where I’m sure I would’ve turned things around.

2007 White House Correspondents’ Association Dinner Speech

Duane "The Dog" Chapman, April 21, 2007

Mr. President, First Lady, members of the Associated Press, distinguished guests, thank you for inviting me here tonight. This has been a long time coming, though I have to admit I never thought it would actually happen. What with my past, I'm used to breaking laws not making laws, and flying here I wondered just how well I'd fit into Washington on account of how I look. I’ve never worn a suit, not even at any of my five weddings. Lately, the only suit that seems to look good on me is a lawsuit. But we aren’t here to sort out my legal woes, we’re here to honor a great man, George W. Bush. Although I know this is a town of lawyers, so if you are familiar with my Mexico extradition case and happen to specialize in “loophole law,” you know where to find me.

To let you know just how serious this opportunity to speak in front of all of you is for me, I can tell you that I’ve spent many a morning looking in my bathroom mirror preparing my hair and faux Native-American jewelry while practicing a speech just like this one, imagining what it would be like to look out over a hoity-toity Washington crowd and make everyone laugh from my humorous stories and tales of the road. Heck, I imagined even getting a few handshakes for doing such a good job at the end of it. But now that I'm here, I feel like I don't know if my leather pants are ready for the Kibbles and Bits I’m about to fill them up with, because I am so damn nervous.



President Bush contemplating my pearls of verbal wisdom



For starters Mr. President, you and me are cut from the same cloth, even if our clothes aren't, and I've known this ever since you got elected president back in 2000. Believe it or not, I know what it’s like to go up against a guy with the name “Al Gore.” When I first set up shop in Honolulu around 1996, there was a bail bondsman named Alfonso Gorbanza already working there, and we never got along. He was a real liberal fruitcake who fought hard to make bail bondsmen seem like rational, harmless extensions of the entire law enforcement system. He had short hair and wore polos and spoke calmly. He told me he had worked hard to make criminals feel safe in knowing that bondsman weren't like Old West cowboys and that the "bring 'em home dead or alive" attitude was a thing of the past. Mr. President, he hurt my feelings pretty bad when he told me this because I felt like he was judging me, and so after getting drunk and taking a piss on his storefront later that night, I went back to his place the next day realizing how silly I'd been acting, and that's when I decided to kick his ass.

You see, I'd wanted to kick his ass from the moment he opened his mouth the day before, but until I was honest enough with myself to do so, I was only postponing the inevitable. Things had gotten all confused in my head when he first started talking to me because I didn't understand how or why a dude would say such things, especially a dude with the job perk of getting to commit endless beatdowns without ever getting in trouble for it. I mean, who the heck becomes a bounty hunter if shit kickings aren’t in your veins? Anyways, if I had of been more true to myself from the get go, we could have saved ourselves a lot of time, a lot of drinking, a lot of pissing, and he could have started his long road to recovery a day earlier. I remember as I kicked him yelling through my confused tears, "Why are you so friendly? Why didn't you become a kindergarten teacher? Why a bail bondsman? Why? WHY?" As it turned out, Alfonso was six months from retirement anyways, so all I did was speed up the pension process, and his district was all mine earlier than expected. Plus you wouldn’t believe the reputation you get as an intimidator by beating hell out of your predecessor. I wasn’t exactly Mr. Popularity in the bail bondsmen community at large, but I like to think I cast a pretty long shadow for a good while after hospitalizing Mr. Gorbanza.



Alfonso Gorbanza walking a dog more his own size













My point, sir, is that the media has been pecking at your ankles for six long years. They just peck, peck, peck, like the bunch of peckers they are, and I can tell by looking in your eyes that some days you just want them to put down their microphones, step out on the White House lawn and settle this once and for all, Lethal Weapon-style. But you’re an adult, and worse yet you’re an adult that everyone else looks up to. Well, guess what, I’m an adult too. Hell, I’m an adult that kids and adults look up to as well, and look at me. I look like Fabio with a meth addiction, and I dress like a dominatrix turning tricks on the Vegas strip. I can say things like this because I am comfortable with my fucked up ol’ self, but if anyone else said it they’d be eating crocodile boot so fast they’d wonder why the heck their mouth all of a sudden started tasting like the swamps of Louisiana when they’re standing in middle of the District of Columbia. In summary, know thyself, sir, and always have an outlet for violence ready and waiting.

If I may speak freely, the entire problem with your way of doing business is that you are obviously a kick ass president who isn’t allowed to kick any ass. You’ve got a job that requires you check your balls at the door every morning, and that ain’t how God intended things. In elementary school, if the class bully had to get a permission slip signed by their teacher and a parent every time they wanted to teach some nerd what a textbook tastes like, do you think schoolyard justice would last very long? No, it would get caught up in bureaucracy, and soon the school bully would be negotiating how many punches he could throw at each dweeb, and then each parent would have to approve it, and each teacher would have to approve each parent’s approval, and really, where is the fun in that?



President Bush urging me to stop talking







I also have to tell you that I get Iraq, sir. I get why you went into Iraq. War is fun, believe you me. I fight my own little civil war on the streets of Honolulu every single day. When that police sketch of a huffer comes rolling out my fax machine in the morning, I practically have to hide my woody from the rest of the guys. But if a sketch of an entire country came out of my fax machine and I was told that I had the resources to raise hell on a massive scale, I do believe my pants would pop. And do you think I’d be worrying about paperwork or the approval of the “law” in bringing a country to justice? Uh-uh. I don’t worry about paperwork. And I don’t worry about the law. I don’t even worry about state borders when it comes to getting my man, hence my current troubles. My lawyers worry about these things so I don’t have to, and granted it’s all been catching up with me lately, but for a long time there I got away with a lot. And how did I get away with a lot? By always catching the big fish.

I think your confidence has been shot by Iraq, because you went after the biggest fish of all, and what I mean by biggest fish is the potential for bringing democracy to the Mid West or Mid East or wherever Iraq is. Instead, every bloody anti-patriotic, anti-American, anti-freedom jackass in this town kept cutting your fishing line. Cut, cut, cut. Peck, peck, peck. Sir, no offense, but those bags under your eyes are turning into Louis Vuitton suitcases nearly as big as the set under my own eyes, because of all the stress you are under. And knowing who Louis Vuitton is don't make me queer, sir. I only know his name because ol' Beth wouldn't shut up about me buying her one of his hand purses for six months until I finally broke down and got her one.

I was going to save this for the end of the speech, but I can’t wait. What I suggest is that after this dinner, starting tonight, we build your confidence back up by starting out small and from scratch. Forget the past six years. You and I are going to grab a big case of beer, hop in my SUV, get you into some dangly Native-American earrings, get fucked up, and then we are going to haul in some criminals who have jumped bail...all with Laura’s permission of course. As a surprise, I already tracked down information about the most Iraqi-looking felons roaming the D.C. area on jumped bail, so you can let some of your pent up aggression out by catching them. Sir, have you ever seen Jaws? Tonight, you and I are Quint, and this stack of outstanding bonds are Great Whites. Actually, that’s a really bad analogy, because I don’t think there’s a single white person in this pile. Anyways, the Democrats are Brody and the liberal media is ol’ hippie Hooper with his beard and his touque and his books, and we’re Quint: all old school.




The President finally loosens up and we share a chortle






I also brought my electric guitar tonight, and I was told that if I had time I could sing a song for you, but it looks like we’re running short. I was going to sing “Tuesday’s Gone,” by Lynyrd Skynyrd, because 9/11 happened on a Tuesday, and you just seem like you’d appreciate Skynyrd. Tell you what, I’ll make you a mix tape. It looks like I’m getting the hook, so just a few other quick things. Firstly, stop going after Osama Bin Laden. You aint’ going to catch him. I know these sorts of people. This is my business. He’s slippery as a snake, and he’ll be living in some terrorist nursing home in the hills of Tunisia and you still won’t know where the hell he is. Give it up. Second, I thought I was getting an honorary PhD tonight, I don’t know why, but for some reason I thought that was part of the deal. Anyways, I had a joke ready about getting a “dog-torate” that I didn’t get to use. Finally, Leland suggested that I use the word “seminal” to describe the greatness and the vision of your presidency. When I looked up the word “seminal,” however, it said the meaning of it is, “pertaining to, containing, or consisting of semen.” I love Leland and he’s a great hunter, but sometimes I wonder where his head’s at.



The Secret Service are 'go' on "Operation Beat Dog's Ass From the Stage Immediately"






To conclude, Mr. Bush, you’ve got a heart of gold, and like me, you understand that America is better than any country on the planet at blending violence, law, and religion into a seamless, singular road to justice and peace on Earth. It’s a thin blue line separating the crazies from the sane in our world, but everyone and I mean everyone has to put that tarry ugliness burning deep down in their souls somewhere. I just thank God everyday I get both paid and admired for letting my darkness out on a daily basis by catching those who didn’t think of channeling their unhealthy urges into bounty hunting first. You sir, have done a great job channeling your violence and your love of God into bounty hunting on a worldwide basis. God speed sir, and good evening.

These Scars Run Deep

Before I became the chiseled, relentless tweaker freaker you all know and love, I was a child actor. It was the early 1960s, we were kicking some commie homo ass, you could throw your six-pack rings into a lake without getting your balls ripped off by some granola-munching head case and slappin’ yer woman around just felt right. Those were the days, there’s nothing like a fake war and civilian monitoring to keep everything runnin’ smooth. Sometimes, when I’m feeling nostalgic I take my old Firebird out for a spin, head to a Drive-In theatre and beat Beth with a belt just to take me back, for a few seconds at least





Those were the carefree days






Anyway, I was supposed to have a small part in the The Twilight Zone’s 1962 episode “A Most Unusual Toaster” where thieves steal a toaster from an old man’s mansion but the bread that comes out of it is somehow made from their own flesh, little by little they eat themselves to death unknowingly. I’m pretty sure they went back in time somehow too because I remember there being Nazis involved. My only line was supposed to be “your legs look a little shorter” but I kept saying “your legs look a sittle lorter” by accident and they replaced me with someone the director called “a little less retarded”.









My profile as a child actor when Technicolor first became available







I almost had my big break in 1974 when I auditioned for the part of Leatherface in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I couldn’t believe it when the director told me that my ability to scare the shit out of people was palpable but my face just wasn’t leathery enough. As a side note, I sent my recent photo to the studios for the wicked 2003 Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake because lets face it, after 15 years of the Honolulu sun I look like a saddlebag with eyes. I never heard back from them though.

I kicked around for a long time after that, getting bit parts here and there. I managed to land a few commericals including a pretty sweet deal with the ToeHugs sock company, it was one of those deals where they would take pictures of you and you had to pretty much guess what they were advertising, I thought it worked well.








C'mon feel the Dog










After that I landed a few episodes of The Fall Guy as Lee Major’s stunt double which was kind of weird because he played a stunt man doubling as a bounty hunter and I was real stunt man about to be a real bounty hunter, eat it Majors

My big break finally did come when I was made aware of an audition for a coming-of-age TV drama centering on an outlaw biker with a heart of gold and his spunky side-kick who roam the heartland of America solving crimes. It was going to be called “Touched by a Hell’s Angel” and I was stoked to be trying out for the role of Damian Garside, sidekick to Rance Dutchman. However there were script problems from day one and when they brought in the talking muskrat as a reincarnated Native chief to guide us I knew I was on a downward spiral. The agent they assigned me wasn’t legit in my opinion either, I’m pretty sure he stole money from me repeatedly.






My agent wasn’t worth his weight in spit, which incidentally was about 300 gallons




The biggest kick to the shins came when they hired real Hell’s Angels to shoot some of the fight scenes between Rance and a band of Oklahoma ninjas in the episode “Pipe Fitter by Day, Ninja by Night”. Well brah, those Angels showed up drunker than a mule on holiday and destroyed the entire set. I had a new found respect for those Hell’s Angels after they almost killed Rance and my agent. I only survived by hiding in the sidecar. Once the Angels left, the producers said they couldn’t afford to rebuild the set because they had stolen most of the pieces from Bonanza in the first place. They also gave us a message from the studio who said they were having second thoughts because this movie was seriously eating into their cocaine fund and what the hell were we doing in Oklahoma anyway when the entire thing was supposed to be shot in L.A.?

The show was dropped and eventually picked up by Disney where it was retooled and turned into a better series in my opinion, the poster below tells the story much better than I can.





That cow has amazing range








I never went back to acting because I’ve got a full time gig now, bounty hunting. And when lady justice calls you’d better accept the charges.

Get With The Program

Bein’ a bounty hunter who tackles meth addicts and wife beaters in filthy alleys and run-down houses, I have a natural affinity towards America’s youth. Kids today are twisted, they need a checkup from the neck-up if you want my opinion. I view myself as a wholesome role model for young adults whether they are interested in pursuing bounty hunting as a career or not.

That’s why last year I went to the Honolulu Public Library and told the young adult librarian there my library programming ideas, although the only "program" these kids should need is the one handed out every sunday in church. I found out later out I was really talkin’ to the janitor which is why, I'm assuming, I didn’t hear back from them on my three ideas, “Hitchhiking, the lost art form”, “How to win friends and influence enemies in prison” and "The Ultimate Fighting Challenge as class credit".

Well, this year we’ve got a bunch of new young adult library programming ideas that me, Leland and Youngblood put together after lots of long nights deliberating the fate of America’s youth over riblet platters at Applebee’s. Here they are:

1. Community chimney sweep night

Sweeping chimneys teaches kids hard work, discipline and the ability to conquer the crippling fear of claustrophobia whether they are ready for it or not.







Some people say breathing in soot is bad for your health and stunts your growth, tell that to this plucky 47 year old.







2. Young Adult Firearm Swap

All kids need to know how to properly handle firearms. When I was five my dad took me in the woods, dressed me like a deer and gave me a five minute head start while he loaded his rifle. I came out alive, sufferin’ only a few flesh wounds not unlike Ice-T in “Surviving the Game”. After my dad sobered up I told him how much I had learned from the ordeal and that I was grateful he didn’t aim at my head. He assured me he had no clue what I was talking about. The point of the story is, guns are a great way to teach youth respect. Guns are like the blood that runs through the veins of this country. No wait, the bullets should probably be the blood and the guns the veins, no, the guns should be the organs but I guess that wouldn’t work either unless the country was some sort of giant robot with weapons for organs…that’d make a solid movie though.







God Bless America








3. Hunting, trapping and skinning your way to success

Living in the city means I can’t trap and skin wild animals no more but it doesn’t mean I can’t trap and skin domestic ones. The only drawback is that the neighbor’s cats don’t put up as much of a fight as say, a puma, but it still gives me a rush every time. Trapping and skinning gives kids the skills they need to survive and I don’t even have to tell you how great it looks on a resume.





This is just one of the reasons to be a hunter or trapper





4. Meet your local carnie

Who doesn’t love carnies? Hell I practically grew up at an amusement park, well I actually did grow up in an amusement park after my mother left me at the base of the Orbiter to “go find some sugar” and never came back. I was raised by various people including the bearded lady and the world's tallest midget. Even Leland was born on a Tilt-A-Whirl. I love amusement parks so much I’m now a proud spokesman for Carny Town, the fourth best carnival web site around. Carny Town is affiliated with Playland Amusements out of Auburn, New York, now enjoying their fifth dismemberment free month.












I know the feelin' brah, getting yer wife an anniversary present can be hard. My advice? Go with the Def Leppard mirror.

As part of my agreement I’m also supposed to mention Bones’ pictures and toys, specializing in stock hooks and lead based yo-yos and I can't forget the good ol' boys down at the Rio Slurpee Company, now with pork flavor!














I don’t know about you, but I’d check out her Tea Cups any day. That means I’d bang her.

The point here is, Carnie's teach kids lots of life lessons. They'll learn many things, including how to operate a maximum of two buttons on a piece of machinery, the importance of staying awake on the job and the fact that you don't need basic personal hygiene or even teeth to pursue a career.


5. Fix Dog's toilet day















This things been actin’ up ever since Youngblood and I got into a major rumble over who would win in a Masters of the Universe fight to the death, Stinkor or Trap-Jaw.

There you have 'em, now the only thing to do is wait for those fat checks from the public library to roll in, I hear those places are loaded.

Nitro Rhymes With Gay-O

Many of you might not know this, but I was one of the original seven American Gladiators. We all had cool nicknames, I insisted mine be “Dog” of course. The only drawback was we had to come up with tag lines for each other, I drew Nitro’s name, and he drew mine. I came up with “cocky, explosive, and always aggressive”. What he wrote for me was “obscene, foul smelling and possibly rabid”. Needless to say we didn’t hit it off at all.

After getting slapped in the face with this insult I immediately jumped in my Atlasphere and tried to run him down but my hair beads got caught in the links as I was rolling and I and nearly ripped my own head off. I did however land right in the scoring pod so it wasn’t a total loss.















I bet you do a lot of that, Nitro


Once they freed me from my circular prison I offered Nitro a deal: We would play one game of Assault, Nitro would be shooting the tennis balls at me and I would be trying to score. If he won, I would leave American Gladiators and he would never see me again. If I won, I got to stay on American Gladiators and have sex with Zap. She didn’t know about that part of the deal but I could tell she dug me from day one when I accidentally gave her a concussion on the Snapback challenge.

Well, my troubles began early when Nitro began firing at me before I could even get my safety goggles on so I had to throw those away and dive behind the cardboard foliage. Then I accidentally fired my pneumatic rocket launcher backwards hitting Gemini square in the nuts which really didn’t help my cause any. By the time I made it to the styrofoam pillbox I was so short of breath I was beginning to black out (say no to cigarettes, kids). I found my two hand grenades but they exploded before I could throw them and I was blinded by silver glitter.

My only option was to charge the target and ram it with my face. Unfortunately I don’t remember much after that. I woke up in the American Gladiators Recovery Unit a few hours later. Joe Theismann would later say that he’d never seen someone get hit so many times in the groin and face with tennis balls. The doctor said I’d never be able to have kids, I’d like to bounty-hunt that bastard down with a vengeance I tell ya.

Needless to say I lost and had to leave American Gladiators before they even shot the first show. I did try to get on the Japanese version of Gladiators, Bang! Bang! Bang! but they said I was too fast for their cameras, or too obscene, I can’t really remember, those are pretty hazy times folks.









Stay out of Hawaii, puke-bag


I have no regrets, well, I have lots of regrets but I’m talking about American Gladiators here. The only thing that really chaps my thighs is that they cut me out of the American Gladiators music album. I really think that was my big break into the music scene. I felt my song “Swingshot Through The Heart” was gonna be a hit for sure. It’s bad enough they cut me from the album but they didn’t have to tell me my voice sounded like I gargled broken shot glasses, that was just uncalled for.

Nitro, all I can say is, don’t ever come to Hawaii, commit a crime, and then jump bail while in the district of Kakaako in the city of Honolulu during the hours that I am on duty because I will be all over you like Turbo on the Sky Track.

Chapman, Honolulu Ranger

Very funny you guys, I don’t even know what “log out” means and I don’t wanna know. You’re both officially on “Dog Watch”. And Leland, give me back my shades, I know it was funny watching me squint my way through breakfast the other day but it’s gone on long enough. Seriously, give them back.

What a night we had, we caught a total of three ice heads. One was just a fluke though. We were all at the Sizzler and over staggers this guy to compliment me on my show. I can tell he’s tweakin’ but I can’t do nothin’ with my mace belt hung up on the other side of the booth and nothin’ in my hands but the maze that’s on the back of placemat. Anyway this walking crotch stain leans way over to get a better look at Beth and out from his jacket falls a bag of ice right into my Shirley Temple. That’s when my whole world went red. With my hands flat on the table I hoisted my entire body from the booth and kicked him in chest in one smooth motion. Leland and I drove him to jail so fast that when we got back to the Sizzler my steak was still warm. And oh yeah, I kept that tweaker’s jacket, it was acid washed, ‘nough said.

After the showdown in the restaurant I needed to wind down a little. Like most people, I relax by watching reruns of Walker, Texas Ranger on DVD. Beth can’t figure out why I watch them over and over again, she keeps saying I must know them by heart at this point. Truth is every show is like a brand new one to me because I suffer from CRS: Can’t Remember Shit. We all took it real hard when that show got cancelled, Youngblood still wears the armband. Chuck Norris has always been a hero to me, the guy can do anything. I found a picture of him warding off a rabid husky in the Arizona desert, it was on the internet so it had to be true.



I even started up a Chuck Norris fan club and tried to write to Chuck to persuade him to keep the show going but no dice. I still write him though, he finally wrote me back too, here’s an excerpt from one of Chuck’s letters:

“Mr. Chapman,

If you do not cease all correspondence with my client, Mr. Carlos Ray Norris, we will notify the authorities.

Sincerely,

Albert Winston
Counsel to Mr. Norris”

To be honest, that was the only letter I received from Chuck but I know he’s a busy man writing books on why evolution is a liberal farce aimed at sending us worthy Christians astray. Well I should get going, I finally remember this episode, it’s the one where Walker gets hit by a lightning bolt and gets sent back in time to the Old West to fight outlaws. Ahhh, if it was only possible, still, I don’t wear steel tips on my boots for nothin’. Stay safe, and to quote Chuck:

“If your soul needs healing, the prescription you need is Jesus' blood”.

Dog is Stupid! HaHaHaHaHa!!!!

Dog forgot to log out! We are on his blog! Hahahahaha. Dog you can't catch anyone! Dog your hair is gray! All the criminals are getting away Dog! You don't know what you're doing! Hahahahaha. Signed, Leland and Youngblood.

Banquet

I nearly made over 200 arrests at a function I attended tonight, because not finishing the pastry that was served for dessert qualifies as criminal.

Celebrity Look-a-Likes My Ass

If we used this site to track criminals, the streets wouldn't be safe. These matches are ridiculous. Sertab Erener isn't even a dude! She's a Turkish pop star who sings songs called 'Every Way That I Can,' 'I Believe That I See Love in You,' and 'City of Hearts for Sale.' Even Beth wouldn't listen to this crap:



Apparently the first pic I entered into this celeb generator was too pretty since I was being matched up with chicks, so I entered my mug shot and who the hell comes up? That guy who ran that Japanese cult and gassed hundreds of people on the Tokyo subway. Yeah, he's really someone you want your face associated with, especially in my line of work. Either the people at this site are screwing with my head or something's broken in their picture machine:



This is more like it. A man who dished out tough talking and ass kickings in equal doses. Your fans miss you brah:



We're on a roll, finally:



Maybe this site isn't so bad after all:

Sanjaya Give Me a Call

I KNOW YOU GOT VOTED OFf American Idol last night and are probably all upset with a tear in yer sodie pop and all that but I was wonderin' if you were interested in a job working with us (We're bounty hunters). We could always use another set of eyes here at Da Kine Bail Bonds. I'm too old to be crawlin' around in attics and dumpsters and as for Youngblood, well, as the old saying goes, if the name doesn't...wait, if the nickname suits the...if the moniker tells the....dammit, well you know what I mean.

What I'm tryin' to say Sanjaya is we need someone new, someone with heart, someone with spirit, someone willing to be lubricated in axle grease in order to fit down a 16 inch drainage pipe to chase down an emaciated tweaker headcase. I think you're the guy we've been looking for. I dig you're style, maybe we can exchange hair care products. You'd look good blonde, brah. Beth keeps telling me to change my hair style but I won't, you know why? Because I was born with a Kentucky Waterfall and I'll die with a Kentucky Waterfall. This hair is part of my personality: the business is in the front and the party is in the back. Anyway brah, if you want a job come on down, we'll have a badge, a crate of bear mace, a training taser and a bottle of peroxide waitin' for ya. Over and out.

My Agent Doug

So my agent Doug is not very good. He's been arranging with Ozzy Osbourne to get me on The Osbournes reality show since around Christmas - Ozzy and I are brahs ever since he wrote the theme song for my show - but it turns out The Osbournes went off the air in 2005. Ozzy didn't know this or he thinks it's still 2005, or possibly 1975, and Doug's no better and I guess I'm no better as I thought the show was still on the air myself. Anyways, I won't be appearing on The Osbournes.

Respecting Others

So the wife asked me to pick something up for her when I went out today and I should never have agreed. I'm standing in a department store in one of the big malls here in Honolulu and I say to the clerk, "Do you have any bras, brah?" He says to me "Yeah, they are right over there there." The wise asses that work in malls I'm telling you.

So I find the bras but I had to set this kid straight. I said to him "no offense, but brah means bro or dude or brother. I could just as easily call you dudebrah if you want." He then says to me "Is it a dude you're buying this bra for, because 38 HH is huge." Thankfully Leland was there because I was up and over that glass counter faster than that kid could lose his faculties - which he did. Leland pulled me off before I did any real damage and the manager comped the bra once he realized who we were and for our troubles (plus we signed some kind of tittie lace up thing for a window display) but I'm pretty sure quicklips got the point. I'm telling you, who's parenting these kids?

These Boots Were Made For Doggin'

It was 04:30 hours, was feelin’ antsy, itchy and just plain bored. Needed somethin’ to take the edge off. I Clapped-On the lights and rolled outta bed. I weren’t worried about wakin’ Beth up, that broad sleeps with a mask over her face and she snores like a rhino. Do rhinos snore? Hell if I know, brah, but my gut says they do and that’s good enough for me.

I threw my shades on, yeah I’m still in the house but I do what I want, when I want. Nobody tells me when and where I can wear my shades, not even Beth. Just a minute, wanna check she’s still sleepin’. Yeah, as I was sayin’ nobody tells me what to do ‘round here. I bring home the bacon, and that’s that. I bring home so much bacon, if there was a world-wide bacon shortage I bet George Bush would call me himself and say ‘Dog, we need ya brah, there ain’t no more bacon’. That’s how much bacon I bring home.

I decided to polish the stainless steel tips of my cowboy boots, never know when yer gonna need to plant one of these tips squarely up the ass of some tweaker. At 04:45 hours I noticed there was a hole in the side of my boot, a mother of a hole, brah. Sniffing it, I determined it had been burned. Must have been that little shit Gary Boy, he’s only four but he’s sharp as a Bowie knife. That kid is gonna be a pyro, once I gave him a cigarette as a reward for accepting Jesus Christ into his life and he lit it right next to Beth’s hair. If there’s one thing we as a family know, never have an open flame next to Beth’s hair, that rat’s nest erupted like Mount Kilauea. Ahh shit I love the little brussel sprout though, I really do.

There weren’t no way ‘round it, I needed new boots. I called Young Blood and Leland to bring the SUV over. I know of an all night boot place right here in Honolulu, Crocs Inc. Best damn boots in town, made of pure crocodile. Sure they’re endangered but you know what else is endangered? Our safety. You want some tweaker ripping your door down with his teeth and butchering your family? Do you want that? Do you? Well then, step aside and let the Dog wear crocodile if he wants.

Leland and Young Blood arrived at 04:55 hours. I grabbed a fresh can of bear mace and slipped it into my belt. I get this mace shipped in from my brah in Ontario, Troy Hurtubise. Troy’s a genius, I’m getting him to make me a suit capable of shooting mace from the arms and a 150 pound fishnet from the chest all the while cranking Judas Priest out of giant speakers located next to the helmet. Haven’t got all the details pounded out yet, not sure how the suit will hold up with 120 degree heat here in Hawaii and how I’ll be able to chase anyone in it since it weighs 185 pounds. Ya see, runnin's my strongest skill, hell, I’d put running on my resume if I had one, but I don’t because I don’t need one. I’m an employee of the streets. I don’t punch in, I punch out, the tweakers that is. Ha, that’s pretty good, gotta remember that one.

Like Troy, I don’t believe in guns, goes against my religion, and my court order, but mostly my religion. I’d say it’s 70% religion and 30% court order.

At 05:10 we rolled out to get the boots. Of course, I went to put my Priest cd in and just because Leland’s drivin’ he think he runs the radio. So of course we had to listen to “Jesus take the Wheel” on a continuous loop. Don’t get me wrong, any song about Jesus is aces in my book but c’mon, every man has his breaking point. I felt like if I heard that song one more time it was gonna be Dog takin’ the wheel and ramming the SUV into an oncoming tractor trailer. Young Blood didn’t say nothin’ of course, he just kept busy re-braidin' his rat tail in the backseat.

We arrived at Crocs Inc, I let Leland and Young Blood get out first to see if there was anyone ready to tag me. Now that I’m a celebrity I need to take extra precaution. We got the boots on a deal, brah. I busted the owner’s nephew a few months back, he was tweakin’ real bad but he turned it around, he accepted Jesus as his Lord and Saviour, I gave him a pack of Camels and the world was right, for a few minutes at least . Anyway, for helpin’ his nephew out like I did he gave me a new pair for half price. They’re all croc, yet all Dog baby. At 05:40 we rolled back home. I threw my new boots on and jumped back into bed and let the sweet rhythm of Beth’s snorin’ take me away to dreamland.

Stay cool, stay clean.

Dog the Bounty Hunter’s 14 Biggest Regrets

1. Finishing second to Boba Fett in Trophy Hunter magazine’s list of the ‘50 Most Famous Bounty Hunters of All Time.’

2. Discovering that Kokomo isn’t an actual place. Fuck you Beach Boys.*

3. Missing Lilo and Stitch when it played in theatres. That movie captured Hawaiian life perfectly, but it’s just not the same on DVD. (And I’m not saying who’s Lilo and who’s Stitch in my marriage to Beth. Ha Ha.**)

4. Not being a passenger on United flight 93. Me, Beth, and the boys would have personally kept that bird in the air. As we say on the islands, ‘Onipa ‘a, my fallen brothers and sisters.’

5. That neither I, nor any member of my family has a pilot’s license. I might have spoken too quickly on regret number 4.

6. The three unused Subway stamp cards in my wallet from 2002. Why offer these stamps in the first place if you aren’t going to honor your half of the agreement, Subway Corporation?

7. Not looking good in a cowboy hat. Don’t get me wrong, I’m in love with my hair, but a black cowboy hat could really tie my look together. Unfortunately, my ears don’t hold up hats very well.

8. Not wearing sunscreen. My face looks like a baseball mitt.

9. Discovering so late in life that 7-11s in Hawaii sell Pina Colada slurpees. So delicious.

10. Never meeting Hulk Hogan. Although I’m happy to announce that this regret is being remedied at the annual Super Tanner’s Convention next month in Lake Tahoe. Hulk has arranged that we sit together, and at the same table as Bob Barker and Jessica Simpson, no less.

11. Not having my tubes tied after kid eleven. I love every one of my ankle biters, but come on, we’re not fielding a baseball team here, right?

12. Never having an opponent as formidable as Han Solo. The closest was when Harrison Ford got caught with a DUI in Maui in 2005, though the local police handled that one quickly and quietly all by themselves.

13. Saying in an MSNBC interview that criminals who run bug me more than criminals who hide. Really, these are two sides of the same coin. Criminals run so that they can hide. And how can you hide without doing a little running? Anyways, I wish I had of said hide, not run. That interviewer was really in my face with all the questions.

14. That I don’t live in the distant future or the distant past. It’s kind of a lousy time for bounty hunters. The Old West is gone, but we don’t yet have lasers or vehicles that can fly. This depresses me, frankly.


* The moderators of this blog didn’t have the heart to tell Dog that a place called Kokomo, Indiana, in fact does exist. Though to be fair, we have a feeling The Beach Boys weren’t singing about the exotic locale of Kokomo, Indiana in their song.

** Note: Dog is not laughing here. In Hawaii ‘Ha Ha’ means ‘Marriage can be tough.'

To Beth and Leland

Beth, thanks for the omelette you made me for lunch. It was tasty.

Leland, I need you to come to Splashy Sports with me on Saturday. Tasers are ten bucks off with this coupon in the paper, but it's a limit of two per customer. 9:30 sound good? And save today's paper if you got one.

Mr.

Leland how do I get this thing to wo

555-7865

555-7865...%%%-&*^$...555-7865 dial...555-7865 DIAL...call Leland...CALL LELAND..CALL BETH