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Look at him. I know you sense it. He's 10 inches tall from the ground to the tips of his ears, weighs less than 12 pounds and has more heart in his tiny little tail than you do in your entire body. In all the time that I have known him he has never backed down from a fight. Ever. Even when facing an adversary thrice his size, he has never backed down. Unlike you who would run at the first sign of trouble. Hey you know what else my dog would never do? He would never let Bob in accounting return his expense report because he filled in the wrong cost center. Nope he would sit there and stare at Bob with his pasty outstretched hand and he would say nothing until Bob would finally get the hint and slink away.
I remember once my dog and I were out walking around in his neighborhood when nature called. After he was finished I pulled out a baggy and started to pick up the mess.
"What the hell are you doing?" he barked.
"I'm being a responsible d..." I tried to reply.
"You're being a f*****g pansy is what you're doing. Now put that shit down and let's go chase some squirrels."
And I did, because he was right. I was being a f*****g pansy. You see I've learned in life, that the world is covered in bullshit and when you scrape away that bullshit, all that you really have left is heart. With some folks, you scrape away the bullshit and there's nothing left. But with my dog, there is no bullshit. There's absolutely nothing to scrape away. He's all heart. Just look at him, you know it's true.
If right now you are asking yourself “Who in the hell is Brad Wesley?” shame on you. If you don’t know who Brad Wesley is then there probably isn't a whole lot that I can do to help you. You see I am a student of life and
I have spent my time here on this planet studying the masters and their work. Michelangelo, Shakespeare, Nietzsche, and of course, Brad Wesley.
So why was Brad Wesley such a f*****g bad ass? First of all, take a look at his name. He has two first names and as you can probably tell they are not the traditional tough guy names. I know a little something about this as my name is Kris…spelled with “K”…enough said. So how does this qualify him as being a f*****g bad ass? It’s the Johnny Cash theory (also know as the Boy Named Sue Theorem) which states: "A man with a girly sounding name is more than likely a bad ass having grown up constantly trying to protect himself because of said girly name." I have no doubt in my mind that Brad Wesley spent a good number of his days as a youth beating the crap out of guys named Biff and Chet and believe me when I tell you, those guys had it coming.
Second, Brad Wesley collected animals as trophies. You know who else collected animals as trophies? Predator. I don’t really think I need to further elaborate on this point.
Third, Brad Wesley owned a monster truck. Think about that for a second and let it sink in. 
How impractical is owning a monster truck? Yet Brad Wesley beat the holy hell out of that kind of logical thinking and got himself one for his henchmen to drive. Only a true f*****g bad ass would think that his henchmen driving around town in a monster truck would be a great idea. And as we saw, that monster truck came in handy when Brad Wesley ordered O’Conner to drive it through Stroudenmire’s Ford dealership for being all uppity and holding out on his protection money payments. I wonder if Stroudenmire felt the sweet kiss of irony as he watched his Ford dealership destroyed by the very Ford monster truck that he had sold to Brad Wesley only a few months earlier.
But wait, Kris, didn’t Dalton beat up Brad Wesley? Dalton?
That guy from Dirty Dancing? Look just because you are f*****g bad ass doesn’t mean you don’t make mistakes. Brad Wesley’s mistake was that he personalized his beef with Dalton by killing Wade Garrett. Had Brad Wesley just ordered O’Conner to drive his monster truck through the Double Deuce, Brad Wesley would still be alive today, rich and getting richer off the backs of the townspeople of Jasper. We all make mistakes, it doesn’t diminish the fact of what Brad Wesley was, a f*****g bad ass.
….come aboard….we’re expecting you. ALL THINGS BLOWHARD!!!! Soon I’ll be writing another blog….All things blowhard…maybe I'll write it about my dog???
So I moved my blog. There are a few reasons why that you probably don’t care about but I’m going to bore you with the details anyway. Besides I like the drama of making this sound like a really huge decision that required the buy in from a bunch of different people when in actuality it was just me and my imaginary friend Gitmo that decided to pull the trigger on this baby. So without further ado…
Reason 1: LiveBlog on Facebook sucks. Currently anyone who wants to read my blog (which I peg that number at 174 which is the current number of friends I have on Facebook) has to install the LiveBlog app on their Facebook profile and that’s stupid. I never install apps on Facebook. I have so many vampire mafia war zombie farming requests sitting in my Notifications area right now, I ignore them all. It would seem a tad silly of me to force that upon others.
Reason 2: I now have a kick ass url. I was at a BBQ a couple of weekends ago when my beautiful wife mentioned to some folks that I had a blog. Of course everyone instantly wanted to know about it and how they could get to it. Coyly I said that it was on Facebook and that was the only way that it could be accessed. I felt pretty stupid. That would be like someone saying I was an awesome photographer (which I am by the way) and when everyone would ask to see some of my work I would respond “Well I could show you but you would need a View-Master…and some of those little disk thingies...which I think have a couple that slipped between the back seat of my mom’s car….DAMMIT.” You get the picture (wink).
Reason 3: I can now access my blog via my mobile cellular telephone device. Wow. How cool is that? Let’s say I’m at Taco Bell on my lunch break (like I am every day) and the line is super long (like it is every day) and I am waiting in that line for like 20 minutes and when I finally get close to the front of that line the guy in front of me doesn’t know what he wants. God. First of all dude, we were in line for like 20 minutes, figure it out!!! Second, just get what I get every day, 5 Volcano tacos and call it good. Jeez. Well now I can blog about that while it’s still fresh in my mind.
“Excuse me sir, can I take your order.”
“In a minute, can’t you see I’m doing something important here?”
So those are my reasons. If you are wondering if I’m going to move all of my old blog entries off of Facebook over to here. No. No I’m not.
Look at him. I know you sense it. He's 10 inches tall from the ground to the tips of his ears, weighs less than 12 pounds and has more heart in his tiny little tail than you do in your entire body. In all the time that I have known him he has never backed down from a fight. Ever. Even when facing an adversary thrice his size, he has never backed down. Unlike you who would run at the first sign of trouble. Hey you know what else my dog would never do? He would never let Bob in accounting return his expense report because he filled in the wrong cost center. Nope he would sit there and stare at Bob with his pasty outstretched hand and he would say nothing until Bob would finally get the hint and slink away.
And I did, because he was right. I was being a f*****g pansy. You see I've learned in life, that the world is covered in bullshit and when you scrape away that bullshit, all that you really have left is heart. With some folks, you scrape away the bullshit and there's nothing left. But with my dog, there is no bullshit. There's absolutely nothing to scrape away. He's all heart. Just look at him, you know it's true.
