A Letter From Jay

Dear fellow Rioters!,

Last night I drank too much beer at the Phillies game (they lost to the Nationals of all teams, but Jayson Werth stealthy gave my entire section the finger after we heckled him.  Anytime I’ve seen Cole Hamels pitch this year, which would be four, they’ve lost), and ate some dodgy Chinese food post-game.  As a result, my stomach is no bueno this morning. It’s my own fault.  Too much Pabst Blue Ribbon and chicken chow mein will do that to any man.

Anyway, enough of my gastro-intestinal problems; there are more important things I have to say.

As of this coming Tuesday I will be hitting the road with some close friends of mine, “The Fake Boys.”  I’ve discussed them in the past and hopefully by now you’ve gotten off your lazy ass, checked out The Fake Boys, and now realize why everyone loves them.  If you haven’t, I still think you’re foolish. 

I’ll be on the road for about five weeks being a band lackey touring the entire United States.  As much as it pains me to leave my beautiful South Philadelphia neighborhood and not being able to continue to indent my ass in a stool at Ray’s Happy Birthday Bar, it must be done and it will be waiting for me upon my return in mid-September.

Fear not Rioters!, I’ll still be around.  Aside from still giving you all words of wisdom on Advanced Fandom, I’ll have a new daily column called “Jay, the Road Warrior”.

Oh, this isn’t a Mad Max reference.  As much as I liked Mad Mel in his bizarre trilogy, he helped Tina Turner join the Screen Actors Guild, and that cannot be forgiven.

If you’re anything like me, which can be good or bad, you liked wrestling as a kid.  Sure once we found out it was as legitimate at Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny, some of fell by the wayside, but some like me hung on until it interfered with getting laid, but I digress.   Anyway, growing up one of my favorite tag teams (aside from Demolition and the Rock ‘N Roll Express), were “The Road Warriors”. 

Made up of “Hawk” and “Animal”, The Road Warriors (or The Legion of Doom in their short lived circus in the WWF), dominated the professional wrestling circuit from 1984-2003, punishing naive victims who thought they were worthy opponents.  They just weren’t bad asses in the ring.  These silly bastards wore face paint, and sported mohawks (well technically Hawk had an inverted mohawk but still), and took no shit off anyone.

Unfortunately in 2003 “Road Warrior Hawk” passed away at from an apparent heart attack, which effectively ended The Road Warriors and my love for wrestling (actually I’m lying.  I quit watching wrestling in the mid-90’s when Hulk Hogan joined the NWO and realized my girlfriend might be cheating on me).  So like Randal Graves did in the cinematic masterpiece Clerks II, I’m “Taking it back”  Considering I’m not enough of a bad ass to be “Road Warrior Jay”, (which sounds kind of  gay anyway), I’m “Jay, The Road Warrior”.  Less menacing, armed with a laptop, stale beer breath, a pack of Pall Mall Menthol, and a smart mouth, I’ll be sitting in the back a conversion van coming to a city near you (not in that creepy way peckers, this van has actual seats, windows, and lacks duct tape).

Rioters!  Always remember to keep the faith, spread the word, and avoid the clap.

With much love,

Jay