Time to resume our countdown of glorious commandos and the blaze of nitrocellulose. In Part One we reviewed our honorable mention and detailed spots 10 through 6, which featured:

#10 – Nikolai Rachenko (48 kills)
#9 – Josey Wales (55 kills)
#8 – Casey Ryback (54 kills)
#7 – John Preston (76 kills)
#6 – Mr. Smith (95 kills)

In the second installment, we climb up through the ranks into the top 5 – the real dealers of death.

[Read Column]

Ass kicking is an American obsession. Need proof? Only 17 other countries in the world have a Gross Domestic Product (i.e. the sum of their entire economy) greater than our 2009 Defense Budget ($689 million). Americans boast a war record of 1,010,067 to 1. Our only blemish … so far … is Vietnam. We can all agree that it was a war that we dominated, but ultimately lost on penalty kicks.

Uncle Sam loves ass kicking. And like all great things American, we have exported our love of ass-kickery along with our Big Macs and Gangsta Rap around the world.  Now the entire world flocks to cinemas to see one warrior standing against a horde of unrelenting killers.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you … the One Man Army. [Read Column]

I am going to make a confession that a few years ago would have had me hanging my head in shame.

I am from Oklahoma State University, but now that the dead body of Bob Simmons has reached the final stage of decomposition in the unmarked, shallow grave behind the Wormy Dog (right next to Pat Jones) … I’m not going to apologize any longer.

Yes, I am an Oklahoma State alumni and a fan. As said fan of O-State, my only real true claim to awesomeness lies in Football … particularly now that Eddie Sutton is back on a whiskey bender. If only Betty Ford were still alive.

Oh sure, there are other sports, such as our 34 Division I wrestling championships, but Americans don’t care about two guys wearing leotards in refereed crotch-grabbing … even though we are the best God damned crotch grabbers in NCAA history.

For years we struggled in national mediocrity, producing a star or two every decade and slipping back into the stinking carnage of OU’s shadow. Names such as Barry Sanders … Thurman Thomas … Mike Gundy … resonate like Athenian whispers off the ruined acropolis of our sports futility. And the latest name to be added to this semi-immortal pantheon?

Desmond Demond “Dez” Bryant. Wide receiver. Dallas Cowboy. Completely fucking crazy. [Read Column]

Today it is with a heavy heart that I announce my retirement* from soccer.  I started playing when I was fifteen years and in the twenty years from then to now I rose to the heights of a mediocre player with no composure or skill.  I was the best friend of every forward … forwards on the opposite team … for gleefully diving into every fake or stepover … allowing them to unleash the Fatality! dribbling combination for their home movie highlight film.  ”Oh look!  That short kid with a bowl cut just got nut-megged and Braziled at the same time!”   You’re welcome.

My retirement, though, does have one condition … [Read Column]

In honor of the 2011 Women’s World Cup and the valiant come from behind win in the dying minutes of the match for the US women’s team against Brazil (122nd minute and penalty shootout), its time for LuckyRob to trumpet the roar of Womankind.  But I’m not lauding the fairer of the species like Lifetime might.

I present to you Five Women from history that despite all of the odds against them … redefined Badass long before Rambo tied his headband and picked up his explosive arrowheads.  These are real women and their deeds are fantastic.  And I guarantee you’ve never heard of any of them …

They are the Ace, the Outlaw, the Warrior, the Rebel, and the Self-Made Queen. [Read Column]