The Walking Dead Power Rankings (by Mike Hicks of course)

Tonight is the Season 2 Finale. If you aren't excited about watching it, you either have no pulse, or you can't afford cable. CHECK THAT: I know a homeless guy, “West Side Sammi from Sri Lanka” and he still finds a way to stream that shit live to his iPad 1, so no excuses. 

Oh, but before I get started....FUCK HIDDEN CHRONICLES on Facebook. I don't play that shit. I'm so sick of logging in to FB and seeing my “Notifications” and then I get excited and think people give a shit about me and they commented on posts, pictures or sent me comments and it turns out that 17 of them are of you dicks wanting me to play either hidden chronicles or some other lame shit that I'm not feeling. OK. So stop sending me that shit. I won't delete you, but I will probably hate your guts. I'm just too nice to say it to your face. So you'll never know how much of a dickbag I think you are. But not only do I think this, everyone does. I'm just doing you guys a favor, and not saying negative shit to your face. 

OK, enough procrastination and digression. Now for the show......

THE WALKING DEAD: POTENTIAL SURVIVAL %'s

So last week we see Shane continue to be his dickhead self and try to merk Rick for the 3^rd time in less than 1 season. Luckily Rick "Doc Holiday'd" his ass with the knife and Shane died. Kind of. Then he wakes up, bum rushing Rick while we're all thinking Carl might kill his daddy for killing Shane (as he's aiming a gun directly at his daddies head) but thank tha lawd he busts Shanes grape instead. Because he became a zombie, and Karl fucking hates Zombies.

So what brought this on? Why did Shane turn into a walker? Is it air born? Did he use the same knife to stab a walker in the head and then use it to cut his hand to lure more zombies in?

All theories are plausible, but I have my own theory. Here it goes....

I think that everyone that's still alive is infected with the zombie bug. It only takes longer for it to metastasize into certain individuals. So far we've seen the prisoner that got his neck broke by Shane's (overzealous, best friends wife, raping ass), turn pretty quickly with zero bites. So this destroys the theory that Shane was infected by the knife. Since the prisoner had his neck snapped, the rest of his body was shutting down, preparing for death. At this time he was at his weakest and the Z-virus overcame him. Same with Shane, he was stabbed and losing a lot of blood thanks to Rick. As soon as he was gasping for his last breaths, he was weak enough for the Z-virus to overcome him. Other than this, they've had to shoot everyone in the head (including Dales dumb ass)...How in the eff did he not hear that wheezing, loud as shit zombie get the drop on him? Well he died, so Daryl did him a favor and tapped him in the head to end it all. Including not becoming a walker. We know that a lot of people have died, but since they weren't disposed of properly(i.e. Having their grape properly busted after they kicked the bucket) they become zombies.

THIS IS MY THEORY: In episode 6, when the group was at the CDC, Jenner(the guy in charge) whispered something in Ricks ear. Some people speculated that Jenner saw Shane trying to ass rape Lori via video cams in the CDC. Others thought since he made them all take a blood test, that he told Rick that Lori was preggers. Since we've pretty much seen Ricks shock to finding out Lori was pregnant (later in season 2) and he didn't kill Shane just after the CDC mess (for going Ben Roethlisberger on his wife). I'm guessing none of those theories are viable. What I do think happened was that he whispered to Rick that, “We all have the virus, but you, Carl and Daryl don't have it. You guys are immune to it.” Keep in mind, he made everyone take a blood test before entering the CDC, so he knows all of their status's. He even knew that Carol is mildly retarded from her blood test results. Her blood test also showed traces of how fucking much I hate her.

WHY: Well because from the jump, Rick caught a few hot ones from those fugitives him and Shane tried to stop (either just before or during the initial day of the Zombie Apocalypse), he was at his weakest for a few weeks in the hospital and he not only didn't become a zombie, but he overcame it, healed up and found the group. Carl got shot by Otis at the beginning of season 2. He was on his death bed, extremely weak...and he survived Zombie free. Daryl caught one of his own arrows (while out looking for Sophia) that was more than likely poisoned by Zombie blood. Then he took a fucking bath in zombie blood and cut off their ears and shit (while he was hallucinating about his brother Merle calling him a pussy lolz). He's still not infected. So I think for sure those 3 are immune and I'm guessing a few others might be but we won't know til season 3 or 47.

So that's my theory so far. I won't bother making too many further predictions because as we all know there is a graphic novel. It has a lot of spoilers although they've done a good job of steering clear from a lot of the comic strip and adding original characters and stories. For example, I don't think Daryl was even in the graphic novel. With all of that being said, this is my power ranking going into tonight when shit is about to get Really Real son. I will base them on predictions as to who might/should live. And those who will more than likely kiss their ass goodbye. Wrote a song about it, like to hear it? Here it go!!!!

RICK GRIMES: Will not die. He's the hero. This would be like if Michael Jordan died before the 1993 NBA Finals. FUCK THAT! Rick is my hero too. I always pictured myself handling shit just like him when the Zombies take over. I'll be humane, but won't hesitate to bust a grape when a bitch gets out of line. Survival %: 100.00

GLENN: Oh this Asian dude better not die. He's like my cousin at this point. Shit, I even have a legit Asian cousin named Glen. So I'm hoping he'll use his wits and make it out of the massacre. Survival %: 88.8

  

LORI GRIMES: This is what scared me about Rick. Because in the previews I saw this lifeless bloodsucker within 2 feet behind Rick and I was like “NOOOO!!!! Rick, look behind you.” but then I realized Oh, this is only Lori following him. It's actually no zombie at all. I fucking hate this hoe though. She's so fucking retarded. She lets Carl run around the woods with zero supervision and she's constantly giving Shane enough confidence to think she still wants to fuck him. She's the 2^nd most hated fictional character ever....just behind Shane for me. I hope she gets bit on her boobie by a 300 lb behemoth of a dead person and while she's dying, she gives birth to a zombie that looks just like Shane. EFF THIS HOE! Survival %: .007

ANDREA: I used to hate her. Stopped hating her. Hated her again when she was banging Shane. Now I feel like she can contribute to the group if she stops being such a punk ass bitch. I know she can shoot better than any woman(although that's not saying a lot)...but if she fires 10 rounds, she's bound to get lucky and kill maybe 2, possibly 3 walkers. Survival %: 68.95

  

CARL GRIMES: Dude is the prince, although he stays doing retarded shit on the reg. I do think he's immune to the Z-virus so the only way they'll get him is for him to continue to not have any decent parental supervision and they gang bang his ass and rip him to shreds. I doubt that will happen now though since he's become a trigger happy Zombie Killer. Survival %: 99.2

DARYL DIXON: Daryl is my mother fuckin N-word. If I had to pick between hanging out with him or Kenny Powers, I would have to do 10 shots and flip a coin. Only destiny could choose something like this. He's such a bad ass. Tracker, fearless and very smart. I love me some D-Squared(that's what I call him because we gave each other nicknames due to our badassery). But Daryl is also immune to this shit I'm guessing. Add that to his Special Forces like demeanor and he's gonna make it. Survival %: 100.100. If he dies, I quit watching this shit! FACT!

T-DOG: The most racist fucking name ever given to anyone. What a crock of shit. I know the day all of the initial survivors were meeting up Shane asked T-Dog his name and T was like "My name is Terrance” and Shane's racist Georgia ass was like “Oh, u T-Dog, chun.” and T-Dog was like “what the fuck ever, cracka.” He gets the fewest lines, and does the most work. He's like a modern day slave in the Zombie Apocalypse. He reminds me of that guy on Amistad. I like T-Dog though. He keeps it real and does his job better than anyone. I'm really hoping he emerges as a hero in the coming seasons.

Survival %: Not good since he's black, and going off of past horror movies, but if you factor in token black guys I'll give him a 94.5...If he gets killed I'll be mad, but I'll just say that if it comes down to Rick, D-Square or T-Dogg: Audios my African American friend. You will be missed. 

CAROL PELETIER: Die bitch die. You are already a zombie. Except you don't eat humans yet.

Survival %: Hopefully negative fucking million. I hate you, I hate you, I don't even know you, but I hate your guts. I hope all the bad things in life happens to you and only you.

MAGGIE GREENE: I love this chick. She's so ride or die for Glenn. I have a bad feeling about her, but she is easily the most likable female at this point. I feel like either her or Glenn will die. I hate to even choose which one I'd rather it be. But if it's her, I'd be the guy to give her a decent Eugoogaly at her funeral because I like her style. Survival %: Fiddy/Fiddy 

EDIT: I picture my wife Melissa being a ride or die chick like Maggie when this shit goes down for real. 

HERSHEL GREENE: I like ole Hersh. I think he's gonna make this run vs the Zombie Bull Rush. I like how he says racist shit, but then makes it sound not racist. It's an art form and it's awesome. Hersh also likes himself some cocktails. My kind of guy. I'll give Hershel an 88.7 survival %. Also, he was mad thuggish in the previews for this last episode when he was all, "The-is is mah Faahm Re-ick, I'll Dahh Heah." ...He's like the Grandpa we've always wanted in the Zombie Apocalypse.

If I left a few out (Mostly Hershel's clan. It's because they don't fucking matter) If they die, you'll be like "Wait, who was that? Oh that wasn't Andrea? Oh, cool. Nevermind." All of his kids will probably die...hopefully except for Maggie.

Can't wait for tonight. Come back tomorrow and see how correct I am. 

Keeping it realer than Dale before he flipped out about how it's inhumane to kill shitheads and then gets ripped in half by a fucking dead guy!

15 Years after Biggie Smalls got killed.....

and still, no one has even been charged. That only leaves one person....

That God Damn Red Herring. 

As some of you can probably imagine, I've been very busy and contained mentally to focusing on things that are important. So much school work that it wears on your sense of humor. You can't really think of anything funny when you're worrying if you might flunk a test. I figured instead of trying to be a comedian I'd just keep it real for this one. So here is the only interesting thing that's happened to me over the past month and a half. It was taking Mariah to Chuck E. Cheese that Saturday of Superbowl weekend. Here it goes.....

This all started with a commercial. Mariah loves Chuck E. Cheese commercials. She gets krunk and starts dancing when she sees them doing their songs. Well I messed around and showed her that video of the Chuck E. Cheese band playing "Love in This Club" by Usher. 

Real Quick: Usher got dumped by Chilli from TLC and then he got plastic surgery and became Ne-Yo.

Anyway I was pretty excited to take my daughter to see this krunk ass band perform. Me myself, I haven't been to Chuck E. Cheese since it was "Showbiz Pizza" in like 1989. I remember it being pretty fun. I used to climb up on the skee-ball tables and drop the balls in the holes with maximum points and get a shit ton of tickets. Also that one machine where the head keeps popping up (I think it's called whack-a-mole) I'd just put my hands over every hole and get another shit ton of tickets.

One time I left Showbiz Pizza with 7,946,825 tickets. I was pretty satisfied about my accomplishment and went to the front to redeem my tickets and win a prize. I kind of figured I was gonna win a Ferrari or Lamborghini, but instead I got a fucking eraser that you can attach to a pencil and some pop rocks. If you wanted to win the Intenda Gameboy, you needed 4billion tickets, so I fell real fucking short. 

So now it's 2012. I was not only feeling nostalgic, but I figured since my baby girl is getting to that stage where she loves to interact with other kids, hear music and play games, this would be the perfect place.

The nightmare started when we first got there. I had to park at a liquor store like 10 blocks from Chuck E. Cheese because it's also located next to a movie theater. At first I thought everyone was going to see that movie "Chronicle" starring Vince Howard from Friday Night Lights. But yeah, I was wrong about that shit too. Turns out every car in that general vicinity was there for Chuck E. Cheese. When we got to the entrance, the line was longer than Studio 54 in 1978. Also, there were at least 17 people standing outside smoking Marlboro Reds. I'm not gonna say what kind of people they were, but it rhymes with umm Bite Bash. On the real, I've been to bars that haven't banned smoking and they smelled less smokey than the outside of Chuck E. Cheese. I then turned to Melissa just to be sure and was like, "So Chuck E. Cheese is a childrens restaurant and not a fuckin night club, correct?" We finally get inside and this bitch that had cross eyes was checking people in. She was looking right at me with one eye, the other eye was looking back at the salad bar. She then proceeds to ask us what we're here for? I was pretty awe-struck by this question. I totally went blank. In the back of my mind, I was thinking,"What the fuck do you think we're here for?" but all that came out was my subtle, polite demeanor and I told her "We're just here to break stuff." in that hilarious Aaron Woods voice ....Since she wasn't listening to us anyway, pretty much what she was doing was asking a rhetorical question apparently, she just yelled at Melissa "OK, go there, pay for your stuff and wait by the balloon for a Manager to seat you." There were 728 kids running and screaming between us and the counter where you pay, and another 1500 umm Bite Bash people walking around, scrounging for coins on the floor. Literally, they looked like broke crack heads that just lost their last rock, and thought if they looked hard enough on the ground, they might find it....but instead of crack rocks, they were looking for 25 Cent coins. I couldn't even believe what I was seeing so just to be sure I stopped and asked a guy “What are you doing?” and he said “Just looking for some coins.” and all I could think to say was “Oh, I feel ya!”

So we go to pay. As we're waiting for this chick to take our order, she got distracted by a fellow co-worker that asked her what time she got off and she had to think about it for a little while before answering. Then she decided since taking orders was part of her job, she finally asked us what we wanted. We ordered 1 pizza, 3 drinks and 2 salads and got some coins. The total was like 87 dollars. I usually don't run bar tabs that high. Then I started understanding why these people were on their knees, dumpster diving for coins. We then waited for approximately 17 more minutes to be seated. When the manager finally got there and escorted us to our seat, I felt almost like I was on death row and being taken down the green mile to the electric chair. It was that fucking depressing. I decided I should probably go to the salad bar since I'm on this old man diet that I used to make fun of my dad for. You know how old people say “You're full of piss and vinegar!” when you are young??? I always wondered why they would say that and where it came from. Apparently it came from eating the salad at Chuck E. Cheese. Because the salad tasted just like umm Piss and Vinegar. 

GAME TIME

I at least had this to look forward too, whoops, I mean Mariah had this to look fwd to. Melissa was like “Don't let Mariah out of your sight, there are a lot of weird people and probably pedophiles here.” I assured her that I had been working out and training very hard for just that reason. So I took Mariah to one of those little race car thingies where you just sit there and the car pretty much bounces up and down and doesn't go anywhere. On her 3^rd or 4^th coin, this gentleman walked up on us and had 3 kids of his own. You could tell he just wanted us to hurry the eff up so his kids could pile in there, but he started making small talk with me. He was like “So do you watch Nascar?” As he said this one sentence, I almost became intoxicated by his breath. It was like he just went into the bathroom and downed an entire supersized bottle of Jack Daniels and then chased it with some Vodka. I was like “Good God man, it's fucking 1:30 pm on a Saturday in a childrens restaurant.” I hope I never have to become that liquored up to hang out with my kids. Anyway, I figured I should be nice and try to carry on a conversation with the guy. I told him “No sir, not a big Nascar fan, but I like watching paint dry.” He kind of chuckled. I then told him my old Go-To joke about “Nascar isn't even a sport, if you take away the car it's just sitting.” and you could tell he wasn't really appreciating my jokes. But I figured I could slip one more in, “Do you know what the hardest thing about being a Nascar fan is? Having to tell your parents that you're fucking your sister.” I don't know why I did this. It was like that time I ran from the crossing guard police. I'm just retarded sometimes. He handled it well, but I could tell that if I didn't get Mariah out of the car asap he was gonna stab me. Good times! I then spent the next hour dropping all of our coins into the “Deal or No Deal” game. I have a magic eye for this shit and I always get the 200 ticket thing. Even at Dave and Busters. So I ran up the tab and got like 44 thousand tickets while we were waiting for the Chuck E. Cheese band to show up. They never fucking did. Thank God Mariah shit her pants and just wanted to go home and take a nap. 

I redeemed those tickets and got a yo-yo. But the light didn't work.

Keeping it realer than that African guy who kidnaps little kids and teaches them how to fight other little African kids. 

"Oh they think I'm a greeter at the Wal Marks, but actually I'm more of a bouncer"....

--Apple.

I'm not sure if I believe my friend Apple anymore. He's only like 68 or 71, it just depends on which day you ask him how old he is, so I'm almost certain he's not senile or anything, but I do think he has a problem with telling the truth. A few weeks ago he told me this young gentleman ingested some bath salts, then he got in the bathtub and gave himself tattoo's with a curling iron, then got out and ran around the street naked until he found a "Bear Cave", then he went in it wanting to kick the Bears ass. Apple then told me this guy was asking if this was a "Black Bear cave or a Grizzly Bear cave?" Because he figures he could take a black bear 1 on 1, but if it's Grizzly Cubs, he wanted to pray about it first. After elaborating about the man's fear of Grizzly Bears but not so much Black Bears, Apple informed me that this particular cave was actually no cave at all, but it was the Wal Marks on Rogers Ave......Where Apple just happened to be doing his 4 hour shift as the Greeter that particular day. 

I thought initially this was the most awesome story I've ever been told and I couldn't wait to read about it in the paper or watch it on the local news from a professional point of view, with witness accounts and everything. I thought maybe they'd even quote Apple about his run in with this psycho drug addict. This story never broke though. I later asked Apple why the media never found out about such an encounter and he basically told me that his job is to keep things like this quiet. He said before he got hired at the Wal Marks, they did an extensive background check on him. He's a former Marine and supposedly participated in some Black Recon missions in Viet Nam in the early 60's before the U.S. really got involved. He told me the goal of the Wal Marks is to hire old, brittle looking people to look like greeters, but in actuality they are more like undercover Bouncers or Security. He proceeded to tell me that he doesn't tell me half of the shit that goes on at the front doors of the Wal Marks because he's always taking care of their business and covering it up, so that regular people like you and I aren't afraid to shop there(Although I still am, even knowing that Apple is undercover and protecting all of us). 

So anyway, Apple told me all of this while we were in the sauna (And fwiw me and Apple are the only 2 men in this gym apparently, that use the sauna with at least some swimtrunk's or a towel around us) and I didn't even flinch or call bullshit like I wanted to. Then I decided I should tell him a true story that happened to me. It was something I had to get off my chest and only Melissa and like 2 other people know about this, I think I told Justin and Clint(I guess now the cat is officially out of the bag though)....But about 2 and a half weeks ago, on the first Tuesday of this semester I had a night class. Before I go too far into it I just want to say that every effing 1st Tuesday of a new semester sucks for me since I've attended institutions of higher learning. I think this makes like my 8th semester that I've attended somebodies University in my lifetime, and I can remember every 1st Tuesday sucking for me for some reason. Shit, I even did a blog about it last semester. Just everything goes wrong. So that night it was raining cats and dogs. I know people always say that as an expression of sarcasm or whatever, but it literally was fucking raining cats and dogs, on my way to school I had 3 German Shepard's and a poodle land on my car and I think possibly a tabby cat. Real talk. So of course I get to school like 3 minutes before class starts and not one parking spot can be found in the general area of my class. I then have to park like 6 miles away. It's dark, raining and I already know I'm gonna be late. I've parked in this same parking lot several times. Some of you might recall that this was the same parking lot that I crossed the street (not using a city marked cross walk) and got a Jay Walking warning ticket last September. I didn't even know they really gave Jay Walking tickets to people before this, I thought it was just a myth. Well I've made it a point since that day to always use the crosswalk and follow the rules. For the better part of the last 6 years or so, I think I've been a pretty responsible adult and I try to stay in line and follow all the rules, even the little miniscule ones that I don't agree with, like stopping at a red light when no one's coming or not throwing eggs at people, that type of shit. But this particular day I had no choice. I just took off across the street, rain hitting my face, wind blowing hard in my ears, dodging falling dogs and cats and shit and all of a sudden I hear this whistle. Like a whistle the coach blows when you're playing dodgeball in Junior High. I glanced to my left and about 50 or 60 meters away was the same campus cop that looks just like Sgt. Hooks from Police Academy that gave me my warning ticket.

Without hesitating I just took off in a full sprint. About 5 feet into my escape I realized "What the FUCK am I doing? I'm 32 years old, I'm married and have a little kid at home!" This isn't something that someone my age should be doing, but now it was too late. I had already committed and now if I turned back, I would surely get more than a warning ticket. I did the old trick when you're playing manhunt and you have to throw someone off your trail by zig zagging down different trails. I think I went through every building on the campus until I was sure I lost her. In fact, I'm not even 100 percent sure she was chasing me, but just in case she was, I couldn't take any chances. So it basically not only ruined my whole night, but pretty much my whole week. I just kept worrying that maybe she had a good description of me or my vehicle and any day they would come up with some kind of arrest warrant and come take me out of class with her screaming at me "DON'T MOVE, DIRTBAG!" Shit, I'm not even sure what the statute of limitations is for running from a campus cop, but I'll just go ahead and assume she doesn't read my blog and if she does, "It wasn't really me."

After I told Apple this, he just couldn't fathom it. He pretty much called me a liar. After sharing such a heartfelt story with him, I won't lie to you, I was feeling pretty insulted. I mean his story was totally legit but mine was just way too far fetched? Whatever dude. But now I have a new goal. It's hard for me to go to the gym when I'm content with life. I am already married to the love of my life, so I have no females to impress, no bonus clause in my contract to stay in shape and really no motivation to go to the gym anymore other than not having a heart attack when I'm 50. But soon after Apple pretty much shit all over my story, he asked me what my fitness goals were now that I'm getting back into it. I never told him what I was really thinking because he's old and ridiculous. But my fitness goal is pretty much just to work out hard enough so that I could kick Apple's ass if he were ever to try and attack me. When I'm running on the treadmill or swimming laps, I'm pretending that Apple tried to put me in a death grip and I have to bitch slap him in his throat or something, and it gives me that extra swag to run that extra mile or swim that extra lap. And sometimes now that the pain of him thinking I am nothing but a bullshitter has somewhat worn off, I will have to imagine that I'm at the park with Mariah and some child molester tries to kidnap her and I have to not only be able to hawk him down from behind, but I have to be in good enough shape to kick his ass after the chase. So pretty much those are my new fitness goals. Just be able to beat up a 70 year old, or a guy that preys on the little children. I don't want to be able to cage fight or anything, just be able to beat up average people in case me or my family are ever threatened I guess.

Keeping it realer than your cousin Chris who injects bath salts into his arm on the reg and tells you he took too much tylenol PM!

Red

"All he does is sit back urr on his ace and plays that dame Intenda!"--Red Hicks affectionately referring to me in elementary school.  
                               
                                                     Red being one with the animals.

 

I'm dedicating this one mostly to my dad, Red Hicks. A few years ago when I heard about that guy that had a twitter account dedicated to the "Shit his dad says", I was so effing pissed. My dad is a whole lot funnier than that dick, and if that was clever enough to get a TV show on CBS, my dad would have had a 30 minute show, every Sunday night on HBO. My dad keeps it realer than Charles Barkley and is a tad bit funnier because his country accent goes just as hard. And yes, he keeps it too real, not the perfect amount of real like I do, which is always hilarious. When has keeping it too real not resulted in a laugh? First, before I get too far and in case you're one of the few people on the planet that never ran into my dad in public (because if you ever ran into him in public, I guarantee you he'd talk to you because he doesn't meet strangers), I probably need to educate you on a few things that comes pretty standard in a Red Hicks conversation. Red already stands out in a crowd because he's like a titty nipple away from being 6 foot 7 inches tall and he weighs close to 300. But what stands out most about him, is his unique language. The first and probably most important thing you'll need to understand is a "Redism."  

Redism; Turning any noun you can possibly think of (and I do mean ANY noun) into an action verb.

EXAMPLES

Mike: Uh dad, have you seen my drivers license? 

Red: Oh, I'll drivers license ya. 

Mike: Hey dad, can you turn on that lamp?

Red: Oh, I'll lamp ur punk ace.

Mike: Woods, lets go in there and beat up my dad real quick before he can get out of his chair!

Red: Come on boy! I'll chair both ur Aces. (Ace is = to Ass. Red just uses the long "A" sound for everything.)

These examples weren't just made up either. These things all really happened at one time or another (some of them multiple times) and I just gave them to you verbatim. The last one is always hilarious because anytime Aaron Woods visits, we try to jump my dad. My dad is pretty deaf UNLESS he thinks you're talking about him. He may ask you a score to the Dallas game and you can scream at him "DALLAS IS UP 17-14" and he'll go "Hunh?" but if you are in a room on the other side of the house and plotting the ole "Hold him down while the other guy beats the piss out of him, trick" in a whisper, he'll definitely hear you. OK, so after he initially meets and greets you, and you have to talk to him for more than 5 minutes or so (like in a long line, or at the Dr.s office or something) he'll tell you a joke. He only has like 4 jokes though and each time he tells any of them, he laughs. Very hard. The first thousand times I heard all these jokes, I never laughed, but now when he tells them I laugh uncontrollably because I guess these jokes just get better with time or something, I don't know.  

JOKE 1

Red: Do you know what that white stuff on chicken shit is? 

Person: No.

Red: Oh that's chicken shit, too.

JOKE 2

Red: Do you know what a Mileormore bird is?

Person: No, I sure don't.

Red: It's a bird that sticks his beak in the ground and his ass in the air, then farts, and you can hear it for a mile or more. lolz.

JOKE 3

Red: (Picks up a rock and shows it to you) Oh, this is a sex stone!

Person: Really? why do you say that?

Red: because it's just a "fuckin" rock.

He has maybe 2 more, but this is clearly his best material. The key to a Red Hicks joke is asking you a question and you expect to hear a genius, sophisticated answer and it turns out it's the most obvious, simple thing you can think of. One time in Jr High he was showing me and JJ how to throw these different types of curve balls. After showing us like 3 or 4 variations he asked JJ if he knew how to throw a snowball?

Red: OK J, do you know how to throw a snowball?

JJ: I sure don't, how do you do that?

Red: Well, you wait until it snows, then you make a little ball out of the snow and throw it. 

His timing on that joke was so fucking impeccable, that I wasn't even expecting it and I lol'd. People think I'm a smartass and sarcastic about everything, but I'm actually very low key compared to my dad. One time when me and my brother Matt were younger, Matt was like 13 or 14 and going through this phase of just wanting to go somewhere, pretty much anywhere. He hated being in the house. So my dad told me he was gonna go pull his truck in the garage before it started raining. Matt was in another room and didn't hear him say that but he did hear my dads keys rattling and the door opening so he sprinted out the door and Asked Red, "Can I go?" and my dad was like "yeah, if you want to." So he let Matt jump in the truck, buckle his seat belt and everything, then just proceeded to pull the truck up about 10 feet into the garage and got out. He never told Matt shit, he was basically like "Fuck you, you figure it out." I was only like 10 or 11 at that time but I really appreciated how hilarious that was. It was sarcasm at it's finest. Shit, it was sarcasm by action. He really didn't say 5 words the entire time, he just let actions speak louder and allowed my brother to make a fool of himself. If my dad was a nice guy, he would have told my brother "I'm not going anywhere, I'm just putting the truck in the garage." But he couldn't resist being a dick. He just crushed my brothers dreams that afternoon and allowed him to think he was going somewhere interesting. At least Matt probably learned a valuable lesson that day that I've always known instinctively...."Don't volunteer for ANYTHING!" 

DRIVING SKILLS

The summer of 1996 my parents took me and G-Burns to the Jay Novacek camp in Denton, TX. We stopped the day before in Dallas just to see some of the sites around town and my mom wanted us to go see the 6th Floor Museum where Lee Harvey Oswald shot JFK. My dad took a wrong turn at the exit just before the one we were supposed to take. As my mom was yelling at him and telling him what a shitty driver he was and how he can't follow instructions, my dad just put the vehicle in reverse (In 3pm Dallas traffic) and drove it backwards for about 500 yards until we got back on the interstate. My mom went quiet for the first time in my life. I've never seen her speechless before and my dad just looked back at me and Greg and said "We're tourists." 

NAMES

Ever hear someone say "I'm good with faces, but not names."??? Well that's Red. Except my dad doesn't know anyone's name. At least not on the first try. Shit, he's never said my name right on the first try. First he calls me Matt, then Shannon, then Lexi (all my siblings names) then he finally spits out "Mike", he does the same thing with my wife Melissa (he calls her Lexi and Lisa before he realizes her name is Melissa). He eventually just gives everyone a nickname. Like if he is trying to talk about Jack Driscoll for example he'd be like "What's old Dustin, I mean Woods, I mean Clint, I mean, Shit, Ole Fast Runner up to?" If he's talking about Dustin he'll be like "Whats ole Jack, I mean Clint I mean Justin, shit, Ole Quarterback up to?" If he's talking about JJ he'll say "Whats ole Keith, whoops Keidric, Justin I mean Snowball up to?" It really gets bad when people have the same nicknames because Dustin and Derick Mayo are both "Ole Quarterback"....Adam Martin and Clennon Turner are both "Ole Neighbor" and Clint and Robbie Carter are both "Ole Red Head". God forbid he tries to ask me about Justin or Bailey because he'll just ask me "What's ole Scoggin up to?" And if you ask him which one, he'll say "The Scoggin one!" Now it's good times watching him try to say "Mariah." We've just come to a compromise and she'll forever be Mo-Rye-Ruh, or Rye-Ruh. 

That's Pops. One of the most profound things Jack ever said to me a few years ago was something I not only agree with but think it's the perfect summation of my dad. He was like "No matter how old we get or how many things change around us, Red will always be the same." True Dat!

I wish I could justify to you guys how funny it's been living with my dad my whole life. There isn't a TV show that's been made or a comedian on any stage that's made me laugh harder than Red. Don't let his redneck persona or idiot exterior fool you, Red is a genius. It took me like 27 years to figure that out, but one day it just hit me like a ton of bricks. I was like "Holy Shit! The joke is on me." All I can hope for in my life is that Mariah thinks I'm a goofy idiot until she turns like 26 or 27, then realizes what a genius I am. 

Before I sign off, I hope none of you get that Win7 2012 Security virus. It's a bastard. We just got our favorite laptop back last night because of it. It's the first legit virus I ever got by not watching porn. That's the only reason I haven't been on much, because our desktop is slower than Patrick on Spongebob. But I have noticed that I'm getting a lot of traffic on here, considering I haven't written as much over the last month or so. Mainly people keep viewing the blog I wrote about the 1st Alabama and LSU game (The one I predicted perfectly might I add).  http://rmichaelhicks83.blogspot.com/2011/11/is-lsu-playing-alabama-this-week.html

I had no idea when I wrote that bitch that we'd be playing them again in the National Championship. Hopefully when I do my next one, LSU will have won it's 3rd NC in less than a decade. 

Keeping it realer than Red Hicks at a Doctors office, handing out nicknames to strangers. 

Edit: This was a picture my brother sent me while my dad was helping him get their shop ready downtown, and that same day he was posted up watching a parade eating an apple on a ladder. Classic Red! 

To keep my shoe game on point, I'm willing to tear down any wall or burn down any building.

Cuz those Jordan XI Concords make me want to pistol whip your grandma. 

This is why Lebron will never be as good as Jordan. I mean already I seriously doubt he'll win 6 rings. But the main reason is that 10 years after his career is over, people won't be losing their fucking minds to buy his kicks for 180 dollars + tax. Here in Fort Smith it's gonna hit you for $199.80 after taxes.

I like Jodans too, but I'm not waiting in line for anything. I don't care if Tony Romo was trying to give me his upcoming Superbowl ring and he told me all I have to do is camp outside the Wal Marks starting at midnight and he'll give it to me the following morning at 8am. And this would be a scenario where it's guaranteed and it doesn't cost me a dime. I'm still not fucking waiting. These dudes waited, risked their lives by being at the will of a mob, and the best case scenario was that they might happen to be one of the first 15 people in line that's lucky enough to get a pair and have to shell out 200 dollars. I don't see any "Win" in any of that. I'll never get the mentality of the Black Friday crowds, the iPhone random number thugs that camp out starting D minus 4, waiting to have a fucking smart phone that may add one new feature to the one they already have. I guess I'm glad to be a simple man that still has a cell phone that doesn't log on to the intrawebz and quite frankly I don't want one. I didn't even want a cell phone in the first place and I was the last one of my friends to get one in late 2002, mainly so I could be on call in case my dad got sick or something. But seriously, I can't think of any toy that's ever came out that I'd go through that much trouble to cop. Nothing. And I never waited in line to watch that shitty Star Wars prequel either. I bet you those nerds were so disappointed after that shit fest finally premiered. lolz.

We had our family Christmas party last night. Of course we played Dirty Santa. I bought a fat girl blow up doll at Spencers as my gift. I had to get there at midnight and wait til 8am for the doors to open, but at 7:58 the fear or thought of maybe they'll be sold out overcame me and I bum rushed the shit out of the main entrance outside. 

Anyway, as I was buying the doll I formed a connection. I was overcome with curiosity. I've never seen a real blow up doll before and quite honestly I've always wanted to see one fully blown up and in action. Lucky for me I drew number 16 which was the last number in the Dirty Santa raffle. I could pretty much pick anything I wanted. My uncle Kevin initially drew that particular gift with the 7th pick of the 17th annual Hicks/Patterson Dirty Santa draft. I knew then what I had to do. So with my 16th pick, I traded for the fat girl blow up doll and I don't believe I've ever felt like such a genius. It worked out for me for so many reasons. Nobody knew I bought it, nobody knew I really wanted it and then when I picked it they all gave me huge lolz and thought I was just trying to be funny. Joke was on them. Until I opened the box and realized how bad I'd been ripped off. The doll looked nothing like the picture on the box.........

But I do like short girls and this particular doll is the same height as Melissa (well maybe like 3 inches shorter, but I've always wanted a midget too, so it's kind of win/win in that aspect), although her hair is ugly. She's got like this red headed buzz cut or something. Not really attractive for a blow up doll in my humble opinion.

But the positives: She doesn't talk or argue. She never asks me to do any chores or anything which is awesome. I'm thinking of keeping her until she gets mouthy with me like most chicks tend to do (right now she's on her best behavior like anyone when you first meet them. You're not really meeting that person, you're meeting their representative), then she can kick rocks. But for now, she seems to fit right in. I've just got to find some clothes for her fat ass so that she doesn't scare off our guests when we do have company. Does anyone have any clothes they are willing to donate to a doll that's approximately 4 feet and 7 inches tall with a 55 inch waist and some huge ta ta's? My friend Apple will be standing outside the Wal Marks all day today ringing one of those bells, begging for money. You know, he's the guy that makes you feel awkward as shit anytime you're trying to do your last minute Christmas shopping and if you're like me all you use is a credit or debit card and you never have any spare change. Then they mean mug the fuck out of you if you aren't donating. At least 4 times this year I've given them close to 20 dollars or so. I'm not rich enough to be giving to charity. But now when I see one of these guys and I get like 5 feet away, as soon as they make eye contact I just start screaming "I already gave your homeboy some money at Target, dog. Leave me alone and stop giving me stink eyes!" 

You have to think ahead and go on the offensive or they'll try to run you. It's prison rules out here sometimes and you have to attack before they do. Oh, but yeah, Apple will be doing that all day today so if you want to stop by and donate some fat girl clothes, he'll see that they are given to me. 

I really thought this party would be full of awesome gag gifts but the pinnacle outside of my stellar idea to buy a chubby blow up doll was some maxi pads and toilet paper. I guess when most of your aunts and uncles are members of AARP, you can't expect to receive a pocket vagina or a decent porno movie. Anyway, it's not really the reason for the season to buy and receive such despicable gifts. I'm sure Jesus has a sense of humor but he probably got mad at me last night for exploiting that fat girl. I'm gonna make it up to him today by being very good and remembering the real reason we celebrate Christmas. I hope y'all don't forget that too. Shit, I might even roll over to the dollar tree or something and give one of the bell ringers a few dimes and some pennies I have laying here on my desk. Tis the season to give people shit you don't want. Also sometimes, if the bell ringer looks genuinely nice and I want to avoid an awkward moment and I haven't been completely frustrated by the hell that comes with Christmas shopping, I'll stroll up and act like I'm pulling something out of my pocket and just pretend to slip something into the bucket. They usually assume you just dropped some bills in there and they smile at you. Only once did the guy really watch my hand like a hawk and I'm pretty sure he caught me trying to slow play him. But most times it works. 

Keeping it realler than your drunk cousin Steven who gave your grandma some edible panties for Dirty Santa and then busted out laughing when she opened them while the rest of your family was embarrassed for him.

Peace and have a Merry Christmas from the Hicks family. Mike, Melissa and Mariah. 

.....and in case you are curious. Melissa did not get demoted to JV for the fat blow up doll. She's still on the A-team. But I do have something to keep her in check when she wants to get live. 

So I'm Supposed To Spend All My Money On Presents and Give You All the Credit?

"I've been to prison once, I've been married twice. I was once drafted by Lyndon Johnson and had to live in shit-ass Mexico for 2 and a half years for no reason. I've had my eye socket punched in, a kidney taken out and I got a bone-chip in my ankle that's never gonna heal. I've seen some pretty shitty situations in my life, but nothing has ever sucked more ass than this"-- Some guy named Willie that plays Santa Claus on the reg for monies

Here is a song to help get you krunk while you read my awesome Christmas stories. 

I've been trying to think of a way to do a blog for Christmas, but I have been mentally tired for some time now. After I finished my last Final this past Tuesday, my brain just shut down for the rest of the week. Now I'm feeling a little bit more rejuvenated which isn't saying much. Anyway, after a conversation earlier today with my boy Mickey Slayer that pretty much hit the nail on the head for any adult that has to spend last years pay, plus most of your income taxes you'll be getting in the next few months to keep your kids happy for Christmas: Why do I spend all of my money during this season, and this fat fuck gets all the credit? 

First of all let me do a bit of a disclaimer before writing this because I realize this is a sensitive subject. I saw that a few teachers around the country almost got fired over the past few weeks for dropping a bomb on 2nd graders telling them Santa Claus isn't real. To be honest though, I knew Santa wasn't real when I was like 5 or 6. I'd only pretend that I still believed that he was real because my mom would tell me that If I don't believe in him, he won't bring me anything. I was skeptical, but not retarded. So I humored my parents in order to get free gifts on December 25th. Also I have this sidekick named Apple. Apple is pretty brilliant and his knowledge of sports and all types of other shit is befuddling. Anytime I say anything offensive or controversial, it's usually Apple that's telling me to do it. Usually I'm all like, "Apple, that's a terrible thing to say and it might hurt someones feelings or ruin a little kids life." Then Apple gets all butt hurt and won't talk to me for days, sometimes even weeks. So I just learned how to humor him much like I did my parents about Santa Claus. And when Apple isn't helping me say the shit I'm scared to say, he is a greeter at the Wal Marks. Oh, but make no mistake, he doesn't do it for the money, he does it so that he can greet, mingle and converse with some of the classiest people on the planet that happen to shop at the Wal Marks on the reg. He does the job because he has a good spirit, not for the money, unlike all these assholes that play Santa Clause at JC Penney for like 15 G's a month while simultaneously casing the joint so that he can rob them blind come December 26th.

Now a few qualms I have about Santa Claus goes further than all the "lolz" jokes that super talented comedians come up with. "Oh I don't like the Santa because the Santa runs a sweat shop at the north pole with midgets lolz.", "The Santa degrades women because he calls them hoes a lot lolz." or "Santa is always breaking and entering and stealing cookies lolz." But these jokes are based on merit. It's almost like this character of Santa Claus does in fact embody evil and not so coincidentally, he does a lot of creepy shit that would be considered illegal if any one of us were doing it. The myth of Santa Claus teaches us that he does in fact break into your house late at night and he's obviously very good at it because he doesn't make a fucking peep while he's doing it. He's always looking for trouble. He's always watching you like some kind of fucking Super Stalker. Shit, they even wrote a song about it to scare little children. "He sees you when you're sleeping and knows when you're awake!" Now imagine if that song was about Charlie Manson? Using those same lyrics, how does that make you feel? I used to ask my mom when I was little how Santa was going to get in our house because we didn't have a chimney. She told me that he has a skeleton key that fits every door in the world. My dad chimed in that if the key didn't work, he'd just break a window or something to which he cracked himself up and started laughing. Very criminal shit. So it's no surprise that 80% or more of the guys that play Santa Claus in malls all over the country have been to jail at least once for a felony. A recent survey conducted by my friend Apple estimated that 32% of those felonies were of a violent nature. They just aren't very good people in most cases. Like everything in life, I'm sure they have a few good apples (no pun intended, Apple). Some legit good guys that have white beards and actually are really fat, jolly mother fuckers that love children (in a non Jerry Sandusky kind of way). But in most cases, the guys that are pretending to be Santa aren't good people. It's a job that typifies, resembles and requires criminal behavior. Oh, and one time I was at the food court at the South Park mall while we were living in Cleveland about 4 years ago and overheard a Santa Claus on his lunch break telling one of his midget elves, "How do you kill 200 flies all at once? Hit an Ethiopian in the face with a frying pan. whacka whacka!" That's not very nice. It's certainly not something jolly that you tell people in public. 

The main thing I really dislike about Santa is the fact that he punks about 2 million kids world wide each year. When my little sister Lexi was a kid and I was babysitting her, I'd ask her to do something or to stop doing something and she'd just look at me and say something like "You're not my mom!" So I'd have to pick up a phone and pretend I was calling Santa in order to get her to behave. I also plan on doing this to Mariah in a few years when she gets out of line. Whats funny about this is that most little kids under the age of 2 hate Santa. I mean it's not only hate, but it's like they fear the shit out of him. Have you ever just watched a kid lose their fucking mind in the seconds leading up to their encounter with Santa? 

It's an instinctive behavior. Little kids always know the truth, you can try to lie to them, but they usually know whats good and/or bad. They start out knowing that this man isn't good, there is something wrong with him, but we counter this instinct by using bribery. We spend the next few years telling them that Santa is a Saint and if you don't adhere to his commands, you aren't getting shit for Christmas. We use this as a tool of behavioral reinforcement when nothing else seems to work. Their initial reaction is to be afraid of this al-Qaeda looking mother fucker which is a good thing, but through lies and deceit we teach our children to trust this asshole, this criminal and social deviant. A guy that probably has a van with no windows that you teach your children to avoid at all costs the other 11 months out of the year, but come December, he is the Saint and God of the presents. 

I don't know, just a thought, but I wish my parents would have told me that Jesus is the one that gives us presents instead of Santa Claus. He's the one that gives us the strength go to work all year so that we can afford to buy you a Super Intenda or a little big wheel. Jesus is the reason we have Christmas. Why should the man that died for all of our sins so that we can live in heavenly peace for all of eternity have to share this glorious day, the celebration of his birth, with some fat fucking degenerate that probably breaks all 10 of the commandments on the reg? I wish I had the balls to break tradition, but in a few years I'll need Santa to strong arm my little girl. It's just a never ending cycle that we are doomed to repeat. 

 
With that being said, I hope all of you have a Merry Christmas. Regardless of my negative tone and strange disdain for all things Santa, I'm pretty excited about this being Mariah's first coherent Christmas where she actually does all the ripping of the wrapping paper and realizes this is a day of happiness that will come once a year for the rest of her life. Kids make Christmas. I'm gonna try my best not to water this day down for her throughout her childhood and hopefully by the time she's 8 or 9 I won't have to lie to her about this Kris Kringle dickface and all I'll have to tell her in order for her to behave is to "Put on your inside voice, before I put your ass outside!", "Mommy is gonna spank your ass hard because daddy is nice and loves you very much, but mommy will be forced to do it if you don't settle down!" or "Jesus is watching you and I'll quit going to work and you won't get any presents if you keep acting an ass!" 

I'll leave you with a picture of an eating, drinking, shitting, fucking Santee Claus! 

Because this wouldn't be Christmas if I didn't give major props to BBT and the best Christmas movie ever made.

Coconuts Are Assholes!

This one is another throwback. It's Finals week and like always I've been busier than shit trying to keep a 4 purnt zero. But in order to keep hits coming I have to post something, so here goes one I did on Myspace like 3 years ago on Mothers Day, with a few slight modifications to modernize it. The best part was it was probably the last blog Trent ever commented on because he was featured in it and it's a great memory of him (and since my audience has expanded a tad bit since then, it will probably appear new to a lot of people). Also, I'm kind of bored because one of Melissa's favorite Christmas movies is "The Santa Clause" and she's seen it so many effing times she just sits here and recites it like I do when I'm watching Big Top Pee Wee. I have to distract myself and also act like I give a shit about this Christmas Movie that ranks like 297 on my list of 300 all time favorite Christmas Movies. Oh and she also can do Home Alone 1 and 2 which is pretty impressive considering how shitty Home Alone 2 was and it ranks 269 in case you are wondering. Oh, but Home Alone 1 is in my top 7 though.

From May 11, 2008.....

I guess today is "Stuck On Island" day on TV. Already watched part of "Blue Lagoon" and now "Castaway" is on. This made me think to myself what would I do if I were to end up stuck on an island. And this is definitely a legit question because I know everyone thinks about this shit on Mothers Day. 

So lets get this bitch started!

                            THINGS I'D DO IF STUCK ON AN ISLAND

1.) Play in the water for a little bit!
That's typically what you do when you go to the ocean, you just kind of ease into the water and frolic in the waves for probably about 10 or 20 minutes, then you get bored with that and you start playing the washing machine game, where you just kind of play dead and lay face fucking first into the hugest God Damn wave you can find and let it twirl you in circles for 22 seconds. Then you are pretty much ready to get out of the water after that. 

2.) Coconuts.
You have to find these bitches, it's necessary for 2 things; Milk and Cups. And if you're super clever you can make phones out of them I think. 

The only problem with this is that it's not as easy as they make you think on Gilligan's Island. It takes a lot of work to break down one of these assholes. I once watched Trent spend 1 hour and 56 minutes just trying to crack the surface.

NOTHING! Just wasted damn near 2 hours with the coconut, so I guess it's time for plan B.

3.) PLAN B- Find fucking weapons!

 
Because who knows what kind of creatures may live on this island?

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

I know fire and shelter might be at the top of some peoples priority lists, but not mine. I can survive a day or 2 in a tropical climate without either one, but if fucking Joakim Noah were to attack me, what good would the fire or the shelter be?
  
4.) De-snake the place.
"I hate God Damn Cobra Kang Snakes"--Mike Hicks

I honestly don't know how one would go about uhh "De-Snaking" your spot. I've heard moth balls work but they smell like dead assholes with ajax sprinkled on them so I'd prefer other means. My suggestion would be to find a fucking Honey Badger or in Latin (Mellivora Capensis). Honey Badgers kill all kinds of shit on the reg and they eat snakes for breakfast. Literally. I once watched one of them kill 4 Cobras and a baby python under 20 seconds. They don't fuck around with the reptiles, they just merk them and swallow them. That's the type of guy you need on your team when you are stuck on an island. Not even to mention all the forced fumbles and potential for returning punts for touchdowns that they pose. You can never go wrong with a Honey Badger on your team!

(DISCLAIMER: I don't really think God Damn Cobra Kang Snakes  are even indigenous to most tropical islands, but you never can be too careful.......you should still befriend a honey badger probably.)

5.) The Air Got To It.
Time for the fire. Thank God I watched Tom Hanks make an ass of himself for 45 minutes before figuring out that oxygen is the key ingredient in making a fire. Now I know. I figure I could maybe set a forest fire or 2 and not even have to worry about this bastard....

And smokey really doesn't even give a shit about forest fires anymore, that is so 1980's. He used to always conveniently appear when you lit a match back in like 86, and act all superior and berate you like the I.T. guy at work when you try to go around a firewall so that you can log into facebook. But not anymore. Smokey has better shit to do now. He was replaced by the Sexual Harassment Panda and Pokey the Pedobear, and for good reason in light of recent events. 

I would much rather have a Bear out there beating the living horse fuck out of pedophiles instead of telling 25 year old's not to put out their cigarette near a fucking pine tree.


So this is pretty much how you would survive if you happened to be stranded on an island. Just stay calm and remember these 5 things:

1.) Frolic in the ocean.
2.) Coconuts, except they don't really work.
3.) Find a 240 Caliber machine gun.
4.) Kill off the God Damn Cobra Kang Snakes.
5.) Fire.

If you do all of these things, you should make it off the island. Real Talk!

Hope everyone has a great weekend. And something I found hilarious is that I had an image of Joakim Noah in my head when I was doing the bit about ugly, hideous creatures that may pose a threat on the island. I was thinking either him, Delonte West, Sam Cassell or Marshawn Lynch. Anyway I decided to let Google do the job for me and I Googled "Ugly Athletes" and every one of them popped up on the first page lolz. So I went with Noah because I've always found him to be tremendously scary. It worked 3 years ago and it still works today. 


Keeping it realer than Marshawn Lynch in a beauty contest!

Also here's hoping the REAL Honey Badger brings home the Heisman tomorrow night. I think it's pretty possible. The ESPN/ Nissan Leader Board had him with 39,506 or 6% of the votes out of the top 5. This was from November 30th, before he wigged out on Georgia. Surely that number has increased since then. And this particular pole doesn't really mean shit, but it's a pretty decent gauge, or at least it has been in the past. Geaux TM7. He did big things on the reg, more so than any primary defensive guy I can remember. Even more than Charles Woodson that got most of his props for playing offense and returns(that weren't as impressive as Mathieu). It comes down to a guy that plays on the best team in the country and contributed greatly to that success, not to mention the shoes he had to fill and maybe outgrew those shoes. I'd give my left tit to see it happen. The Chuck Bednarik award is not enough for the Badger. FACT!