Well you know what gang, I have been putting up with these AFI and BFI top 100 lists since, well, at least since several months after I got out of prison. I have seen the AFI Top 100 greatest movies ever made. I have seen the AFI top 100 funniest movies about men dressed as women. I have seen the BFI top one hundred best movies that are not funny of all time in Britain. And etc.

And by the way as a tangentally speaking, which do you think is more annoying, americans who only watch anime or americans who only watch british tv shows. I mean face it guys just having a british accent does not necessarily make a joke funnier. I don’t care what some jackass with a pony tail and and knee high boots says red dwarf is not something to brag about. We had that same show in the us, it was called Homeboys From Outer Space and even UPN wouldn’t keep it on for more than three seasons.

But anyway no offense forget I said anything about it Dr. Who fans. The point is, lists. Now the problem with lists to my eyes is that they are a big load of shit. Such a load of shit, in fact, that any reasonable person is going to want to debate the list all night, as if there was some possibility of fixing it so that it’s not as much of a load of shit.

But the simple fact of the matter is that lists don’t work. It is built into the design of whoever made up the idea of the list. It just doesn’t work.

Let’s say you’re listing the top 10 parts of your body that you don’t want to get chopped off. Well jesus, it’s not gonna work. Whatever you come up with, you know you’re leaving something out. And also what is your definition of body part? Does a hand count as one, because it’s a hand, or 4-5 (depending on how many fingers you have when it gets chopped off)? There is really no way to come up with a definitive answer to this kind of shit.

In fact, the television rock music channel VH-1 has made a whole tv show based on the concept of how bad lists are. It is called The List and the concept is, you have five washed up actors and Meat Loaf, and they try to come up with the ten greatest rock songs or whatever of all time. At first you’re thinking okay, I can do this. Let’s put something by the Rolling Stones, or whatever. And then you think, “But which one? Can I only choose one?” And then some jackass goes and picks a Ray Charles song. So you’re thinking, “Whoah, that worked? That counts as rock?” It opens up a whole other can of whoopass or whatever.

So it is an inherently frustrating and also captivating type of show. I fucking hate it. Watch it every chance I get. It’s garbage.

Anyway, long story short, I’m gonna try to make a list too. One more powerful than anything the AFI or the BFI or David ALan Grier could EVER come up with. ANd what this is is the World Badass Committee top 100 Badass movies of all time. And the members of this committee are first of all, me. Second of all, all of you motherfuckers.

You see, I figure that we as an institution know of what the fuck we speak. We have been sharing and discussing the badass works for some time now. We have been examining them as well as critiquery and discovering the theories, motifs and workings of the Badass filmic pieces.

So please my friends, ladies and fellas, send me your top Badass movies of all time. The definition is up to you. You can send me as many as you want, except not over 100. Please try to have them in approximate ranking order (your favorite first) and put the name of the Badass performer in parentheses afterwards. In example:

The Getaway (Steve McQueen)

or whatever.

This is a part of my new Badass theory which will hopefully replace the auteur theory in Badass related film critiquery.

By the way, I did not mention The Getaway as a means to tip the vote. However please do vote for it and obviously I do reserve the right to disqualify anyone who does not include any Steve McQueen movies on their list.

Anyway thanks guys have a good one guys.

Sometimes the biggest adventures come in suitcases, stashed in ditches, handcuffed to severed arms. I mean that’s how we found this one anyway. Me and Rich Boy Robbie Lamont, driving his beamer down a gravelly road behind a construction site his dad owned, on our way to a cocaine pickup. Robbie’s deal, I had nothing to do with it, but he wanted me for backup and he bribed me with an expensive leather jacket. He’s driving along telling me this long story about why the best leather you can buy smells horrible. I interrupt him as we get close to the rendezvous point.

“So what are we, uh– what’s this Fat Anthony dude look like, then?”

“Whattayou think, Vern? He’s a fat guy,” Robbie laughed.

“Well, I don’t know. How’m I supposed to know? Some of these nicknames they got these days, you never know.”

“Well Fat Anthony is a fat guy. Real fat. In fact I don’t know how he stays in business, you’d think he’d have to run from the cops at some point.”

Now you may not know this if you haven’t met me, but I am kind of the visionary type of dude. You know, the type of dude that comes up with a lot of innovative ideas and fresh approaches, and I am always looking for a chance to propose them. And this was one of those chances for me.

“You know, I always thought if a fat dude wants to be selling blow or, you know, whatever, and he’s worried about cops, at least cops on foot, this is what he should do. You get a pair of rollerskates, right? And do all of your transactions on the top of a steep hill. ‘Cause I mean a guy that size, the momentum-”

And suddenly, a loud ass thump on the bottom of the car. The type of unexpected noise that scares twice as much shit out of you when you work in this particular business or associate with this type of individuals. So a second later it was a relief to realize it wasn’t a gun shot, all it was was this asshole Robbie had driven us right into a ditch. (read the rest of this shit…)