By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Alan Prendergast
By Michael Roberts
By Michael Roberts
By Amber Taufen
By Patricia Calhoun
By William Breathes
Friday was going to be one pill of a day for meth-sucking Hawaiians living in the city of Denver. Because Duane Chapman, better known as Dog the Bounty Hunter, was coming back to the city where he got his start for a "speaking engagement" that day. And Dog eats meth-sucking Hawaiians for breakfast. So does his wife, Beth. Actually, judging from the size of Beth's impossible KK boobs, she eats meth-sucking Hawaiians for breakfast, lunch, dinner and possibly her Taco Bell Fourth Meal, but that's beside the point. The point is that Dog was coming to town — fucking Dog was coming to town! — and I hadn't been that excited for a homecoming since I snagged a date with Kelly the class whore!
But then Dog canceled his hometown appearance without explanation — although it might be because his oldest son, 34-year-old Christopher, just told the National Enquirer that Daddy is a "monster," a crack-smoking bigot who hates blacks and gays.
I choose to remember the good times, like the first time I ever saw Dog. It was a couple of years ago. I wasn't really doing anything with myself other than crashing on various floors and collecting Beanie Babies, so when two friends asked if I wanted to head to Mexico with them for a couple of months, bum around our fiery neighbor to the south and see what we could see, I figured why not?
Mexico was a hot and mysterious land full of beautiful Latinas, cold Tecate and miles and miles of ocean, and I loved every second of it. A few weeks into the trip, I picked up a Spanish-language newspaper and saw a picture of Dog. He was grizzled and leathery, haggard and angry-looking, posing in a mug shot after being arrested in Mexico. I couldn't really understand all of the article, but I did pick up on several key words: "Fugitivo," "Colorado" and "violar" — to rape.
"Hey, check this out," I said to my friend Joe, who was lying in the hammock next to mine. "If I'm reading this article correctly, it looks like this guy Dog from Colorado just got arrested as a fugitive because he raped, like, either six or sixteen Mexican villages."
"Jesus," Joe said. "Entire villages?"
"Yeah, I think so," I said. "It looks like he raped men, women, children, animals, avocado trees — just pretty much raped everything."
"Fuck," Joe said. "But you gotta admit, if ever there were a guy capable of raping an entire city, he probably would look a lot like that."
Of course, when I got to a cyber-cafe a few days later and read the entire article in English, I learned that this Dog was actually a bounty hunter from Colorado who'd been arrested for tracking down Andrew Luster, a convicted rapist and heir to the Max Factor fortune, because bounty-hunting is illegal in Mexico.
I never told Joe of my error, and I hope that to this day he still thinks Dog the Bounty Hunter is the most famous rapist on the planet.
But he's not a rapist, is he, kids? No, he's merely a convicted murderer, and we can forgive that, can't we? Sure we can, because Dog's show on A&E is pretty much some of the best trashy television out there! Here's how a typical episode goes: The camera pans in on Da Kine Bail Bonds in Honolulu, where Dog now lives. Anywhere from seven to twelve of Dog's children are running around in various states of adolescence, clearly demarcated by the number of sickly hairs atop their upper lips (both guys and girls); Beth — aka The Huntress — is struggling to speak through her breasts into a telephone; and Dog is dipping in and out of the office for cigarettes, his yellow mane glinting in the sun. Then the call comes in, and it's fucking go-time. There's a fugitive on the loose, and it's Dog's God-given duty to apprehend him, because as Dog says on his website: "This is a game of good guy versus bad guy. And I must capture the bad guy." And no matter what that bad guy did — be it kill a cop or violate bail conditions surrounding a computer-fraud charge — Dog will track down that motherfucker with the tenacity of a blond badger, then hurl the cocksucker into the back of one of his black SUVs.
And then there's this amazing transformation: Dog softens up. No matter what happens during the rest of the episode, it always ends with some cracked-out Hawaiian sitting in the back seat weeping as Dog kindly belittles his captive with Jesus all the way to the station. It's absolutely riveting.
DOG: Why do you keep doing this, brother?
DRUG-ADDLED HAWAIIAN: Waaaaaaaaaaaah! I don't know, man. (Unintelligible crying, hiccupping, snot streaming down nose.)
DOG: You've got two kids, brother. And a wife. Don't you want to treat them better than this, brother?
DRUG-ADDLED HAWAIIAN: Waaaaaaaah! Waaaaaaaaah!
DOG: Well, you know Jesus, brother? He has a plan for you, brother. But you got to listen to his plan for you, brother, and not fight it, okay, brother? Can you not fight Jesus, brother?
DRUG-ADDLED HAWAIIAN: I don't want to fight the Jesus!
Dog is that rare TV personality who's as attractive to the NASCAR enthusiast as he is to the Wall Street broker, as interesting to the schoolteacher as he is to the guy working the drive-thru. And so what if his son says he chases the dragon and wields his hatred like a weapon?
At least he's not a rapist.
To see a video, click here.