Well, according to the Princeton Review, we’re not allowed to reprint this list. But since the only other way to see it is to sign up at their website, we say: f*ck it. Here it is:

1. University of Florida, Gainesville, Fla.

Gator Haters rejoice, the Everglades are near. i.e., crocodiles ready your jaws: Is that a drunken freshman I see?

2. University of Mississippi, University, Miss.

Go to any frat party and ask them to spell their own state and someone is going to prove they’re NOT smarter than a 5th grader.

3. Penn State University, University Park, Pa.

JoPa NOT on the sidelines is like a Penn State dorm party without the kegs, or condoms: All hell could break loose.

4. West Virginia University, Morgantown, W.Va.

Wonder how many liters of absinthe the Mountaineer Mascot can fit in his flask.

5. Ohio University, Athens, Ohio.

It’s f-ing cold out. What do you expect us to do?

6. Randolph-Macon College, Ashland, Va.

Since NO ONE has ever heard of them, why not?

7. University of Georgia, Athens, Ga.

Nothing like getting a southern girl drunk and passed out on the fraternity couch, where “sloppy seconds” consists of wiping the puke off her mouth.

8. University of Texas, Austin, Texas.

We got nothing bad to say about longhorns. Oh yeah, except that the former Governor of their state is a tard.

9. University of California-Santa Barbara, Santa Barbara, Calif.

Our own Ray Guy happens to be an infamous alumni of this fine school. Ask him about the rashes.

10. Florida State University, Tallahassee, Fla.

Gator Haters rejoice, they’re only nine spots ahead of you on the AP Top 10.

Rest of list:

11. University of New Hampshire, Durham, N.H.

12. University of Iowa, Iowa City, Iowa.

13. University of Colorado, Boulder, Co.

14. Indiana University, Bloomington, Ind.

15. Tulane University, New Orleans, La.

16. University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, Urbana, Ill.

17. Arizona State University, Tempe, Ariz.

18. University of Tennessee, Knoxville, Tenn.

19. University of Alabama, Tuscaloosa, Ala.

20. Loyola University-New Orleans, New Orleans, La.

Note: If your college isn’t listed, what in the f*ck are you waiting for? Toga! Toga! Toga! (Seriously, click that link for a classic.)

“There’s an old saying in Tennessee — I know it’s in Texas, probably in Tennessee — that says, fool me once, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can’t get fooled again.”

- George W. Bush, 43rd President of the United States

OK, head count for those that seriously don’t want to be fooled again? Time to get back to work America.

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Check out some of the Useless Stuff we hate — besides the president.

Before: We loved seeing him lose his cool in the climax of Animal House. “Remain calm! All is well!”

After: All is not well when we see what Kevin’s career opportunities have dwindled to.

Otter: He can’t do that do that to our pledges.
Boon: Only we can do that to our pledges.

Back in 1979 when hip-hop genre’s first hit “Rapper’s Delight,” by the Sugar Hill Gang, lit up the airwaves, the Gang — let alone those in control of society: white men (who can’t jump) — could not have imagined how large, and in charge, their baby would one day grow to be.

Now, 29 years later, hip-hop is ubiquitous. It has assimilated itself into our culture to the tune of over $1 billion in record sales a year. Not only that, but the music has riffed into markets far-and-wide, shaking its funky groove thang to the cha-ching cha-ching of a $10 billion a year industry.

Hip-hop’s tentacles stretch from movies to cell phone designs, to fashion and the sneakers you wear, the perfume you sniff, the rides you drive in and the cribs you chill in. And a handful of savvy, streetwise rappers have started to seriously capitalize on the movement. They’re the ones who have created their own empires, giving them job security, should the beats ever get stale, and enabled themselves to take from the establishment — rather than the other way around.

P. Diddy has the Sean John jeans and a stake in the Sean Jean Lincoln Navigator. He also owns the Bad Boy Worldwide Entertainment Group (which publishes a hip-hop magazine and owns a restaurant), and an advertising company, Blue Flame Marketing. The Wu Tang Clan has an apparel line and a clothing store. Fat Joe a barbershop. Nelly a men’s clothing line, Vokal, and for the ladies, the hip-hugging Apple Bottoms collection. DJ Spinderella a day spa. Master P is everywhere, with No Limit Records, No Limit Clothing, No Limit Films, No Limit Toys, PM Properties, Advantage Travel and a retail chain called Master Feet. And Jay-Z owns Rocawear, a stake in the New Jersey Nets and was the first non-athlete to score an endorsement deal with a major shoe company, Reebok. But, most definitely, the Godfather of hip-hop moguls is Russell Simmons.

Simmons co-founded Def Jam Recordings 24 years ago and has since spread his way into fashion, film, television, publishing and advertising. His empire now includes the multimedia company Rush Communications (the 2nd largest black-owned company in the U.S., to BET Holding Inc.). He also has segued into Broadway, with the Tony-nominated Def Poetry Jam, has a vitamin fortified energy drink, DefCon3, and he has introduced the Rush Visa Card, a prepaid debit card for people that may or may not have a bank account. His clothing company, Phat Farm, cashed out to the giant Kellwood Co. for $140 million.

And to further attest to hip-hop’s acceptability-factor, the word “phat” can now be found in the Merriam-Webster Collegiate Dictionary.

But now that hip-hop is firmly entrenched in our psyches, here’s the 100-million dollar question: Once the gold rush is over and they are done trying to “Get rich or die tryin’,” as 50 Cent so eloquently put it, will all the bitches and hoes, jewelry, cribs, cars and cash start to burn a hole in their souls? And, more importantly, will it shake the new black movement into transforming themselves from selfish to selfless? And then will they step up to the mic and begin to have a positive effect on our culture? Get involved in the non-profit sector and start the rap of philanthropy? — much like their white, millionaire counterparts are doing in the Silicon Valley, who have set up new foundations, philanthropic organizations and donor circles.

Many critics, from both within and without the black community, have already posed this question to them. And we all wait to see if the School of Hip-hop, or: the School of Hard Knocks, as it has been called, will graduate.

Frantz Fanon, who wrote about colonization in the mid-20th Century, said: “Each generation must discover its mission, fulfill it, or betray it.”

Half a century ago, a generation of blacks determined their mission was to tear down the walls of legally sanctioned segregation in the South. They were completely successful, and, a very important point: they went about their mission in a non-violent way — not with their Uzi’s and language and misogyny a-blazin’.

Yes, there are several hip-hop acts bustin’ out the positivity, among them: The Roots, The Nappy Roots, Black-Eyed Peas, Blackalicious, Blackstar, Nas, Jurassic Five, the Watusi Tribe and others. But when the examples most rappers set lies in a lifestyle of excess, that does nothing but perpetuate the bullshit behind the myth of the American Dream, that people should do whatever they have to do to get ahead. Ya know, “get rich or die tryin’.”

But that’s a negative road for any kid to freestyle down. Because what happens when they drop out of school, to follow in the footsteps of their heroes, and never even get to taste one morsel of that dream? Yet more anger festers and they look to exact their revenge.

Yes, black folk have been held down for years, but that can no longer be an excuse to perpetuate the violence, oppression and prejudice that was practiced on them. It’s time they stop boasting about what they have, and use their position to help empower those that have not. Yes, you can!

It’s that time of year again – the holidays upon us. And you know what that means: Deck the halls with family dysfunction.

Now, we’re no Dr. Phil, but we don’t think we’re exaggerating when we say that every family has their, um, shall we say, quirks.

Some may be minor – you know, like the Brady Family’s “it’s always Marcia, Marcia, Marcia” – and some may be of bloodbath Greek tragedy proportions and make an episode of COPS. But whatever the joy of your particular clan, TGR is here to go deep and help make that festive time of year, well, more festive.

With a little thought before going in to this year’s family gathering, you can save yourself major frustration and disappointment – and possibly the embarrassment of explaining to your uncle how you got your first cousin pregnant, and then going on the Dr. Phil Show.

The first step in avoiding the shame/pain is to begin thinking about where you fit in within your family dynamics.

Are you the youngest who gets picked on and blamed for everything? Are you the oldest who gets jealous because all the attention is showered upon your siblings? Are you the one who gets caught up in trying to play peacemaker between unruly family members? Does dad take his frustration out on you because he’s got endless mortgage payments and a shitty job and your life is rocking with a six-figure income and a bevy of supermodels?

These are all hypothetical scenarios, but they should put your thought process in motion and send you on your way to enlightenment and forgiveness (a major key here) sooner than you can say: Oprahsized.

Next, try to sort out how you feel when you’re provoked by these dynamics. Do they make you feel marginalized? Do you get sad? Do you feel enough anger to go all Chainsaw Massacre? Whichever it is, after discovering how you become affected, it’s time to make a pact with yourself: “I will not allow myself to be pulled into these negative emotions.” Repeat it. A lot.

The first step in overcoming anything negative, whether it be an addiction, or an uncomfortable sensation, is to recognize the particular habit, or feeling, as it’s happening. Once you know how you tend to be provoked, or why you do the crazy things you do, you can begin to head yourself off at the pass to the Bullshit Highway.

But you have to stay with it. It will take several occasions of wanting to go down the unhealthy road, and you catching yourself, before you begin to rewire your neurons and they start to choose a sunnier route.

And here’s the cool part: When you do reach the point where you don’t end up taking a left turn onto Dysfunctional Drive, and not allow the family road crew to put the orange cones out to steer you there, people’s power over your emotions will begin to dissipate. And voila: you’ll be the driver of your own vehicle – without the threat of being burned like Dale Earnhardt Jr.

At the same time you’re on alert for how others steer you in the wrong direction, you have to begin living by the universal mantra: “The only person I can change is myself.” And let’s repeat that…

Trying to alter anyone’s course is an utter waste of our resources that could be channeled into a more positive direction – say, making ourselves better people and having a more fulfilling life because of it. The idea is to lead by example, affect people through your behavior, not through your blame tactics.

Yes, we would all like the world to be a kinder, gentler place, and our families to stop pushing our buttons so often. But we have to understand, it’s us who allow people to push our buttons, not the other way around. We do have the power to just say NO.

And when someone does push our buttons, instead of going into reaction and lashing back at them, it’s time to call a T.O., take a few deep breathes, huddled in the bathroom, and ask ourselves: Why did we get upset and what is the lesson we are supposed to learn from it? i.e., How will getting in touch with that emotion help me grow as a person?

The Dalai Lama has a great saying: “Practice being kind, not right.” Try it sometime and witness how it defuses a disgruntled family member’s attack mode. We swear, they’ll come out looking like a proverbial deer in the headlights. Or, Mary-Kate and Ashley after they’ve been intravenously fed a big fat steak and potato dinner.

Hey, it’s a fact: we’re all a little bit crazy, a little bit rock n’ roll, and a lot scared. We fear, ultimately, because we are uncertain of the great mysteries surrounding death and WTF we’re doing here. And we tend to get caught up in dysfunctional behavior with our loved ones because we think that through control comes security. When in actuality, trying to control is something we do to compensate for not having the BIG ANSWERS. The ones we’ll never know until we see the light at the end of the tunnel, if we see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Maybe we’ll just see Dr. Phil standing there, wagging his finger in our face and exclaiming in his southern drawl: “Don’t you wish you would’ve grown up and took responsibility for your own happiness BEFORE you had to see me in hell?”

Duane “The Dog” Chapman is on a mission from God: to rescue as many brothers and sisters from crime as he possibly can.

You see, the Dog knows about crime inherently. That’s because, by the age of 14, he was running with a biker gang in Colorado. At 22, and after several arrests for robbery and other petty crimes, he managed to get involved with the big one, Murder: a fellow gang brother shot and killed a drug dealer while Chapman was tagging along. He subsequently served 18 months (of a five-year sentence) in a Texas State Penn for being an accomplice to the dope deal gone bad.

As the old story goes: The mullet-haired Chapman, who looks like he could’ve been battling Mel Gibson in the Road Warrior, found Jesus in prison, and once he was born-again, and freed, he set out to do the work of the lord. Of course, under the guise of a bounty hunter. Because: If you can’t beat em….catch ‘em.

“I’m in charge of the thieves, you know,” says Chapman. “That’s who God has given me, so to speak, as a flock. If you look at it right, brother, it’s like a ministry.”

Dog — who won’t forget to remind you, just in case you even come close to doubting his omnipotence, “is God spelled backwards” — boasts over 6,000 captures with nary a bullet fired. And, he says: “Seventy percent of my captures happen because some good ol’ American has turned them in.” Bravo for citizen narcs!

Of course, being members of the God Squad, and before heading out to capture their usual petty crime cats, the Dog Team gathers around in a prayer circle: “Let us be an example in their lives, lord, in Jesus’ name.” (Not to mention, the almighty Benjamin’s.)

One wonders if Jesus would’ve approved of their tough talk. Here, warning a woman, so doped up on meth that she can hardly move, let alone speak, against resisting capture: “You fight out of a coma if you even try!” Then they take the inevitable gloomy ride downtown in which Chapman, trying hard not to shed the tears of Christ, dispenses one of his usual savvy lectures: “We love you, but just like we loved the dog that bit the mailman, once he broke the skin we had to get rid of him. Don’t bite the mailman.”

Aw, yes: the kind of witticism that Reality TV legends are made of.

Now, I bet you’re wondering how this particular legend got his nickname.

“I was very loyal. I’m a man’s best friend,” says Chapman. “I always showed up for the fight. I take care of my brothers. I’m Native American [editor's note: almost half on one side!], so it’s in my blood to always want brothers and friends. I’m a good brotherhood guy.”

And, now, quite a famous one.

It was the year of 2003 that Chapman and his Posse made the catch of a lifetime. You’ve heard the story a thousand times. Max Factor heir Andrew Luster drugs women, fucks them while taping the action, and then flees to Mexico when his gig is up. The Dog Team catches the bad guy, and, mind you, doesn’t receive any bounty money in the deal. But they do manage to parlay the fame into the top rated show on the A & E Network (they even get an original theme song by Ozzy Osbourne!).

It’s a nice reward for having to even spend a moment in a Mexican jail (they spent a few days). For the show’s third season, Chapman signed on for a reported 2.6 million. Not bad for an ex-con and father of 12 trying to make ends meet. But, ya know, when Jesus is on your side…

7 Fun Facts About Bounty Hunting

1. There are an estimated 30,000 bail jumpers per year.

2. Bounty hunter’s are employed by a bail bondsman and paid portion of the bail the fugitive initially paid.

3. Successful bounty hunters make more than $100,000 a year.

4. Unlike the police, bounty hunters have no legal protection against injuries to non-fugitives, and very few legal protections against injuries to their targets.

5. Bounty hunting laws vary upon the state you live in.

6. The term bounty hunting refers back to the days when rewards were offered for the capture or killing of any articulated person.

7. Current-day bounty hunters don’t like the term bounty hunter. They would prefer to be called bail enforcement agents or fugitive recovery agents. It sounds so much more on the up-and-up.

Our Favorite Dogism

“Lord, thank you for this day and keep us all alive tomorrow. This is a great life, please help it to keep going…Please don’t let me get shot!”

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Recommended reading: Banksy: Graffiti Artist Gone Rad.

When you’re royalty, you can get away with literally anything. Except, maybe, a high speed car chase with the paparazzi. But there, we’re talking royalty of a different ilk — real royalty. In our country, royalty comes in the guise of celebrity. And because we in the land of US Magazine deify our celebs as if they were the Second Coming, these noble Christ-like souls think they are privileged enough to ask for the parting of the Red Sea.

If we can’t get them the Red Sea, can we at least make sure there’s enough KFC for the entire posse? This would all be stated in what is known as the “Contract Rider” — a Bill of Rights that Christ’s people supply to the promoter of the event where Jesus is appearing at. Below are examples from the world of music, both past and present, from an American Idol to a former teen idol — who apparently didn’t get the memo that his career hit the wall and burned in the ‘70s.

Artist: Ruben Studdard

A few of their favorite things: Large bucket of KFC, 12 pack Miller High Life, 1 fifth of Petrone Tequila, cinnamon Mentos and 4 bars of black soap.

Special Note: There should never be any kind of pork or beef in Ruben’s dressing room whatsoever!

TGR Commentary: Obviously no pork or beef allowed in the Big Man’s dressing room is in strict accordance with devotion to his God: Colonel Sanders. Though we wonder if the Colonel ever washed down his wings with Miller High Life, tequila and black soap. Has anyone even seen black soap?

Artist: Britney Spears

A few of their favorite things: Odor free carpeted floor, Albacore tuna (only!), Pop Tarts. And, for the dancers, Honey Nut Cheerios, Lucky Charms and two buckets of KFC.

Special Note: Publishing of unlisted room phone or incoming calls will result in $5000 fine payable by promoter.

TGR Commentary: We have a collect call for Ms. Spears, it’s the WTFA. (White Trash Family Association.) They’d like to remind you of the correct protocol for dropping your babies on their heads, becoming a total psycho, then doing it all over again.

Artist: Jane’s Addiction

A few of their favorite things: Police escort (DENIED), velvet/velour type atmosphere in dressing room (DENIED), 2 pairs Calvin Klein underwear (DENIED), 2 packs orange Zig Zag (DENIED), 1 box of Nag Champa (DENIED), 4 wooden incense holders (DENIED), comp tickets so local doctor can be on call during performance in case artist or artists touring personnel becomes ill/ODs (ACCEPTED).

Special Note: Laser pointing devices will result in immediate ejection and assault charges.

TGR Commentary: BYOH. Bring Your Own Heroin. But laser pointers will be strictly enforced!

Artist: 50 Cent

A few of their favorite things: 2 fifths of Hennessy, 3 bottles of Cristal, assorted munchies for 20 people, 2 boxes of Lifestyles Rough Riders condoms and, yes, KFC and biscuits.

Special Note: THERE IS TO BE NO BEEF OR PORK IN THE FOOD OR VICINITY OF 50 CENT’S DRESSING OR CATERING ROOMS! AND SHRIMP MUST BE KEPT ON ICE!

TGR Commentary: No beef or pork, but guns OK!

Artist: Willie Nelson

A few of their favorite things: USA Today with breakfast and lunch, nothing but organic on the tour bus — and that includes weed (none of this hydroponic shit).

Special Note: In addition to banning KFC from the tour bus, all Willie Nelson concerts are Smoke Free, and that must be reflected on all tickets and ads for the engagements. Must also be No Smoking signs at all venue entrances and purchaser shall make an announcement prior to start of Artist’s performance. Tour bus must be parked as close to stage as possible.

TGR Commentary: Keep the bus close, for easy smoking access, and the USA Today near, to read about your latest bust. And, please: Momma Don’t Let Your Cowboys Grow Up to Be Stoners.
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Artist: Michael Bolton

A few of their favorite things: Evian water (any changes must be approved by tour manager, or Michael’s mother), deli platter (“NO ONIONS “THEY STINK!”).

Special Note: Mr. Bolton wears designer suits and clothing that will require special dry cleaning treatment. The fabrics are very delicate (as is Michael’s ego), and cannot be machine pressed. THEY MUST BE HAND PRESSED WITH A COVERED IRON ONLY. And please: No garbage on stage! It is unsightly, dangerous and smelly.

TGR Commentary: The Singing Forehead also requires an African American gospel choir from each city he plays in. Because, God knows, you don’t want a bland white choir making Mr. Bolton stink anymore than he already does.

Artist: Shania Twain

A few of her favorite things: Orange cheese popcorn, 12 assorted cans of soda and 24 small bottles of spring water for local choir (this is strictly generosity!), a police escort to and from the show, and a K9 sweep of immediate stage area 2 hours prior to performance to lessen Mrs. Twain’s concern for crank bomb threats.

Special Note: No alcohol in the dressing room prior to show.

TGR Commentary: Good call on the no alcohol before the show and, instead, delivering during the performance. How else could her handlers lure Mrs. Twain to the stage? We’d also like to write in our crank bomb threat for Mrs. Twain’s next tour. It would be helpful if she has McGruff the Crime Dog on hand at every venue.

Artist: Backstreet Boys

A few of their favorite things: 24 PBJs for the band, VIP area must have hot coffee, tea, 6 pack of Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite, chips and pretzels. Anything left over will be donated to the local PTA.

Special Note: No candy, chips, chocolate or junk food of any kind! But please supply good, local eateries that serve pizza, wings, cheese steaks, and other fine foods that will clog arteries. But, once again, no junk food! Assorted ice creams and cakes for dessert will be appropriate.

TGR Commentary: Thankfully, the Boys only tour every five years now. Because we understand their personal chef got Carpel Tunnel making all those PBJs, and stroking more than their egos before every show.

Artist: Donny Osmond

A few of their favorite things: Because one bad apple can spoil the whole bunch, girl, Mr. O’s non-fav things include: glow products, fresh roses, lighted roses, or similar items. None of which may be sold, given away, or distributed by venue.

Special Note: If a fan makes it on stage, security should remove her quickly, but kindly. Occasionally, Mr. Osmond may choose to sign autographs for the fans in the lobby. It is important for security to maintain control over this situation, as it is on the return to the bus after the show: “this seems to be a security challenge every night.”

TGR Commentary: Yes, apparently the delusional Donny thinks he is one of the Beatles — even though the only people liable to rush the stage include a disgruntled brother or two. And the only one waiting for an autograph: his incestuous sister Marie. Who will then sell it on EBay for a dollar, or trade up for the nearest bucket of KFC.

*Final Note: the following article was not paid for by KFC. Though, we won’t fault them if they send us a few buckets just for the mention.

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Recommended reading: 11 Laws of Concert Viewing

TGR: Where did your initial desire to start a band come from? At the ripe young age of 14.

BL: I have to imagine, on the deepest level, it must have just been my destiny, my calling. I felt something in me ready to explode. It was an amazing time to be young and mildly musical, but full of enthusiasm. Because that was the time where it’s not important on how professional you are, it’s just the feeling you put into it. It was just what had to happen.

TGR: Why do you make music now?

BL: I think what really drives me today is that it’s my way of helping. You know what I mean? Like the world has a lot of problems. People are sad, get depressed, they suffer a lot. And I know when I play live I just try to bring them some joy and bring them a bit of hope.

TGR: Does music have the power to change people on a conscious level? Or is the transformation on a subconscious level?

BL: It’s so beyond their understanding. It’s like a vibration, and your whole body starts changing and opening up. I can’t even explain it. It so beyond intellectual capacity to understand. But faith, like somebody’s faith in what they’re doing, is totally contagious. I think that’s how I started writing “Catch My Disease,” because it kind of is like a disease, the joy that comes from creation. It’s like a fungus.

TGR: A fungus? In a good way.

BL: Right. I’m Ben Lee, I’m an emotional fungus.

TGR: Does success, and the guilt it can breed, lead to the art of giving? Out of gratitude?

BL: Yeah, I guess like success is pretty empty unless you’re using it for something. You know what I mean? Like to me, any success I have, or that I will get, is an opportunity for me to do something in the world. Like, I hope I’ll be able to use it for good. I don’t know if it comes out of guilt though. I think it comes out of opportunity. Hopefully it comes out of something pretty sincere. I think you see a lot when people experience success. For better or worse, they start using the platform to change things.

TGR: I read something about how you used to fight against the world. What led you to give up that battle?

BL: I think it has to do with getting away from adolescence, which seems to be all about fighting. Life sort of became enjoyable. I guess that’s really the only thing I can thing that explains it. I started realizing that, like, everything I have in my life, instead of looking at it in a way that like, ‘ah, I can’t get the opportunities I want to get’. Or, I’m having a hard time getting my music out there. I started really looking at the opportunities I do have and what I’m making with them. And seeing that I have been able to affect a lot of people making music. And it just started feeling positive.

TGR: How do you separate yourself from the negativity. I read that you find a challenge in finding spirituality in a big city.

BL: I look it as the best place to test ourselves. I mean, I’m out every night. I’m on the front lines of negativity. I’m in the clubs. I’m out there until two am in the morning. And these kids are like-

TGR: Bunch of posers saying “show us what you got.”

BL: Yeah. And then out in the middle of the country, where kids are frustrated, they don’t know what they’re going to make of their lives. So I look at that as an opportunity. If I can bring a little light to that situation, I can do it anywhere, you know? I have a like sportsmen like attitude to my mission.

TGR: In what sense?

BL: Bring it on, man, make it more difficult, I’m ready.

TGR: Your key to letting the creativity flow?

BL: I guess it’s just not looking at it as a thing that’s separate to the rest of my life. Like, for me, everything is creative. Every act. The way you eat, the way you walk, the way you dream. And for me, the more I put into that, and the more attentive I am, the things, like ideas and songs, flow naturally.

TGR: Have you ever driven any of your friends or family away with something you’ve written?

BL: Yeah, I’m sure I have. I remember a few incidents over the years where people would come to me and say “gosh, I don’t know why you wrote that.” And I think, sometimes, they don’t understand that a song is just a moment. It doesn’t necessarily have to sum up some kind of comprehensive issue you’re talking about. And more and more, I feel like the songs come from somewhere beyond, anyway. So, sometimes you just have to serve them. And really not get too concerned with how people are going to respond to you.

TGR: Because then you’re censoring your process.

BL: Right. And you’ve got to be a little bit protective of that and believe in it.

TGR: What is surrender about for you?

BL: It’s just about the flow of things. I always think of that Einstein quote, that one of the fundamental things a human being has to decide is whether we live in a friendly or a hostile universe. And I believe we live in a friendly universe. I believe the way things are going, it’s trying to teach us something. It’s trying to elevate us. And that most of our problems come from resisting. So, for me, surrender is trying to get back in sync with what path I’m meant to be on.

TGR: Fondest memories of the Jack n’ Beanstalk soundtrack?

BL: I used to sing it all the time. Once in kindergarten, one of the teachers had some kind of emergency and left me in charge of the class. So when the parents came to pick us up, I was standing on a desk, doing all the characters, the whole thing from beginning to end.

TGR: Other musical influences?

BL: When I was a little kid like Michael Jackson, Tiffany, Pet Shop Boys, you know, stuff that was on the radio all the time. My older sister used to listen to Roxy Music, Fleetwood Mac and David Bowie, stuff like that. And then I got into Motley Crew, and Guns and Roses and Nirvana.

TGR: Do you still listen and discover music in your life with the same passion you did when you were young?

BL: Not with the same kind of passion or focus I used to as a teenager. Like it was almost academic back then. Like I needed to know. Now, it’s like, I look for the ideas, it’s like my music is the biggest influence on me now.

TGR: What’s the best line from a groupie you’ve heard?

BL: Oh, man. Um…Some of them, just…I kind of like it when the girls are straight forward, and, you know, you’re leaving and they say: “Okay, look. Why don’t you come back with us and you can have sex with two beautiful women and have a good time and then be in bed by three?” And, you know, whether you take them up on it or not, it’s just nice to know that that degree of honesty still exists.

TGR: Yeah! If you’re a rock star.

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Recommended reading: Interview with famous groupie Cynthia Plater Caster.

Does anyone have any idea where the term “horsepower” came from?

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Cars. And more cars. And, will we ever get enough cars? Wait. Honestly: Will cars be our eventual downfall? As they get bigger and bigger (we’re all driving custom Winnebago’s soon, baby, especially now that gas is way down!), will our desperate need for oil send us into worse situations than we’re in now? (Good Morning, Iraqqqqqq!)

Hey, I won’t dwell on it, but it’s all connected. Guys and cars, and guys and wars. Probably not enough guys getting laid, is my guess. And, oh yeah, BTW, if you’re one of the guys who wears the “Freedom Isn’t Free” t-shirt, you’re definitely not getting laid. And can you please invade (and, then, move to) Canada? Now? Thanks.

As for the rest of you blokes, what the hell is it about a car that makes us so infatuated? Makes us spend so much time under the hood, and tricking it out and pouring so much friggin’ money into it? I ask you…

Is a car a false sense of security?

Shit, I just sounded like that twat Carrie Bradshaw from Sex in the City. But still, we do derive power from our cars, don’t we?

I’ll tell you, put a guy behind the wheel, and it’s like he has his superhero cape on: Mr. Aggression. Get him out from behind the wheel, and many times, he’s the Wizard of Oz: a little man trying to act big.

I honestly have never tried to act big in my car (well, not that I remember, and definitely not when I was sober). I never have really done anything with my car except drive it from point A to point B, crashed it a couple of times, and received a few blow jobs along the way.

Most classic time was when the big BJ was going down, and Phil Collins’ “In the Air Tonight” was playing on the radio, with its lyrics: I can feel it coming in the air tonight…She didn’t even blink. Nor swallow, but I digress.

You are now witnessing the full de-evolution of this little, whatever it is, rant, into a bad romance novel, thereby losing my train of thought. I have no clue what I was writing about. A writer must always leave his breadcrumbs!

Oh! Right! Hemp! I wanted to write about hemp. And how it’s time to stop worrying about the horsepower, and start worrying about the Hemp Power! Well, not hemp necessarily, even though the hippies all believe it’ll be our savior, but other forms of alternative energy, now called ET (thanks to Thomas Friedman). So we’re no longer dependent on the Middle East. Because, ya know, it hasn’t been working out too well over there.

Speaking of the Middle East…They definitely don’t get laid enough.

My point is: When we begin to implement alternative energy, er, ET, into our economy, it means less time spent fighting wars, and paying exorbitant oil bills, and more time spent concentrating on our home front. And that includes putting even more focus on our ladies (those who don’t act like the twats from Sex in the City).

Because, whether you want to believe it or not: It’s the ladies who you customize your car for, in the same way you dress to impress. I’m being honest here: Everything we do in our lives revolves around trying to score the Big P. And we’d get a lot more action if we expend less energy trying to dominate the world, and more time trying to figure out how to feed the second love of our lives, the automobile, with something other than “horsepower.” So, yeah, giddy-up, motherf*ckers! Support ET!

History Lesson:

The term horsepower was coined by Scottish engineer James Watt. Watt, who was credited with inventing the steam engine, came up with a way to compare the work done by horses to the work that could be done by the steam engine. All in the name of the sale. Apparently the marketing ploy worked. Those poor horses.

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Recommended reading: Racer with a Cause

Christmas is almost upon us and there’s one pressing question that’s gnawing at you: How many more friggin’ shopping days do I have left?

Most of us end up getting lost in the seasonal shuffle — too much work, too much procrastination — and wind up having to brave the crowds to search for our presents at the last possible moment. Insuring that we handle the spree as if it was Pin the Tail on the Donkey: blindfolded, we spin around and the first thing we stick a pin in, we buy.

A close family member has given me the same sweater on three separate Christmases. Twice in consecutive years and then they waited a year to give it to me again. Guess they really did their homework.

You know the saying that goes something like: “It’s not the gift that counts, it’s the act of giving?” Well, fuck that noise. You don’t think I hold it against them: that they were too lazy, self–involved or whatever, to even realize they gave me the same rag — a vibrant, aqua colored number I wouldn’t wear in a million years — three times?

That’s why I countered with giving them the same bar of scented soap and matching shampoo, four years running now. At least the soap and shampoo run out. Oh wait, so do the sweaters — straight to the Salvation Army.

Here’s our suggestions for making your presents memorable, in a positive sense.

1. Take some time to plan your attack before you hit the mall. Because you know how distracted you’ll get then, trying to scam on one hottie after another as they come through the Victoria Secret turnstile.

2. Make your damn list, and check it more than twice. Then surprise the hell out of your fam with gifts they never expected. Gifts you took the time to cater to their specific interests. And if they don’t have any specific interests, then create some for them.

Example: Get mom and dad the dance lessons they mentioned in passing once; find your little brother the instructional baseball video that is going to teach him to hit like Manny Ramirez, and not like some sissy fat-ass couch potato who spends too much friggin’ time on his PlayStation; arrange for your older sister to get hooked up to a video dating service — so you can finally get her married off and takeover her room.

Simply put, a little effort goes a long way. And it’s your choice: Be the one everyone appreciates on Christmas morning. Or just another fricken sweater pusher.