Love, Dad's Top 5 Bad Ass Muthaf*ckers

The "Top 5" list is so difficult for one man to conjure up during just one bowel movement, that it is why it is best spread out over at least 4 bowel movements over the course of 2 or 3 days.

I have taken it upon myself to tackle this very list for the purpose of detailing for you, some seriously badass motherfucking muthafuckers. Not only do I delight in the products of their badassness, but I find myself inspired by their sense of "Fuck you reggie, you fucking Fuck" when they enter a room. Nothing is important to them outside of not having to deal with your pussy ass bullmotherfuckingshit, you bullshit pansy ass, panty waisted, pecan crusted, pussy willow on a butterfly's flapping wings, through a rainbow of lube crusted sassafrass. Yea you! TAINT SCRAPING SACK OF RUSSET POTATOES.

So here are my top 5 badassmuthafuckers as of August 2010.

Number 5:
Burt Reynolds in Deliverance

Have you seen this movie? Who the Fuck cares. Have you seen BURT in that movie? Dude is decked in a hunting vest and a bow and motherfucking arrow. He is so bad ass that he doesn't even need to rock his sweet fucking stashe.  Not only do his actions in the early part of that movie convey a serious case of badassmuthafuckerness, but seriously, every guy I know who has seen that movie has a special place in his testicles for Burt Reynolds in that particular attire.

Seriously, check this:

Now I'm not mentioning the testicle tickle of heterosexual males to start any type of conversation about homoerotic themes or bisexuality or whathaveyou, I'm simply pointing out that not only is Burt Reynolds in Deliverance a badassmuthafucker, but this dude is fucking hot.

Like "if I was forced to pick one male to do things I was being forced to do them to, it would be..." Motherfucking Burt Motherfucking Reynolds in Motherfucking Deliverance.

Number 4:
Nick Mason, the drummer from Pink Floyd

Talent, poise and a serious motherfucking case of badassmuthafucker in that "holy shit is that a fucking mustache" mustache.Seriously.

Now why is he a badassmuthafucker you ask? If the mustache isnt enough, you need to watch the Pink Floyd documentary "Live at Pompeii" and lay witness to one of the most unbelievably badassmotherfucking rhythm wackers of our time. His drumming on Echoes (at around the 6min mark but i urge you to start from the beginning)

This, to me, is the fucking definition of "playing in the pocket" and everytime I hear a drummer play forcefully but with complete fucking grace, I think of Nick Mason shoving his double bass drums down the throat of my ears.

Yes, visuals. Yes, they mean you no harm. Nick Mason, though, is my fucking caveman of style.

Number 3:
Gregg Allman

If you've never researched Greg Allman's life, do yourself a favor and read his 2009 Rolling Stone interview. In it you'll learn how he married Cher, almost killed her, almost killed himself a few times, and lived to tell some of the most amazing tales of the road and living as an addict in the Southern USA. Not only do I consider his music to be a part of MY liver, but it seems I could've recently donated my fucking liver to him as he just had successful transplant surgery.

Gregg Allman embodies, to me, the quintessential musician who plays to live and lives to play. His organ to guitar playing is fucking legendary, but still takes a side seat to his fucking voice. Smoker, yes. Smoker's voice, fucking motherfucking yes.

Listen to that fucking voice. Imagine THAT badassmuthafucker coming at you drunk with a knife.

YEAH. BADASSmuthafucker.

Number 2:
Neil Patrick Harris

Doogie? This muthafucker thinks Doogie Howser, MD is a badassmuthafucker?
The short answer - Yes.

The long answer - Neil Patrick Harris was thrust into the spotlight as a boy genius at a very young age. Then he disappeared. Then the muthafucker comes back, works his way into two or three sitcoms or movies, (his most successful is How I Met Your Mother on TV. Hate on it. pussy. But dont forget Harold & Kumar I & II) then starts doing Broadway, Sesame Street, and THEN comes out of the motherfucking closet and doesn't even fucking slow the Fuck down.

Again, I don't care where you put your dick as long as it isn't in my line of sight (or near me, eeewww), but that takes huge ass badassmotherfucking balls to come out in today's society and continue to play the role of a sex starved straight man on TV. The dichotomy of being a gay man in a horny straight man's body is weird enough, but to top off that role with a never ending stream of confidence that almost forces people to be a fan of you. Neil Patrick Harris doesn't give a Fuck about you. But not in that "I'd step on you to get to the top" kind of way, NPH would more than likely help you back up after he beat your ass in with a tuning fork.

LOOK AT THIS shit HERE (EMBEDDING DISABLED)

NPH is a badassmuthafucker in so many ways in regards to his acting and singing talent, but for the sake of not getting too long winded, let's just settle on his fucking badassmotherfucking attitude being at the forefront of his badassmuthafuckerness.
NPH for presodents.

Google "NPH" - see that? yeah, NPH at wikipedia outranks an organization with the acronym NPH.

Number 1:
Ditka

Yes, I grew up around Chicago. Yes, I'm a Bears fan. Not only was Ditka popular in the late 80's after taking the 85 Bears to the Superbowl, but after that just the mention of his last name became a statement of respect. Referring to something or someone as Ditka meant that that person was either in charge or had the confidence and forthright to push through to the end no matter the cost, lost of life or recrimination.

Ditka is but a mere mortal. But his determination, lack of giving a fucking Fuck, and that mother fucking bad ass mother fucking mustache are fucking immortal in the city of Chicago and around the football loving universe. No one can hate on any aspect of Ditka's life, with exceptions being his horrible commercial spots for Cialis and other short-lived sponsorship contracts.

If you completely respect your employer, coach or parental unit, they might earn the crown of being your Ditka. But here in the shadow of Chicago's losing sports teams (there's a huge concrete penis that we all have to make sacrifices of livestock to on a monthly basis to remain this horrible at everything), there is only one Ditka. And he is up there with Zeus.

In fact, my son, at age 1, knew all of this.