“And IIIIIIIIII will IIIIIII will always, love youuuuuuuuUUUUuuuuUUUUUuuuu”

When I think of bodyguards, I don’t think of Kevin Costner or Tina Turner. Somehow that song is still stuck in my head. The film The Bodyguard must have been big when I was a child because I remember hearing that song all the time. I think my babysitter really liked it. She always liked picking on kids in subtle ways. My nickname was Big Timmy to differentiate between Little Timmy. Little Timmy wasn’t all that little for his age. Big Timmy was big for his age. They should have called me Fat Fuck and left it at that.

I would never be a good bodyguard. I’m bad enough at guarding my own body. I do use Right Guard deodorant which is officially endorsed by the Body Guard’s Union of America. That’s a start. But to be a bodyguard you have to care about others. Be willing to throw yourself in front of a bullet to save a politician or a drugged out rock star. I could never do that. My diving skills are below the 20th percentile. I like to think I’m more athletic than the average guy. One thing I never have excelled in is jumping or diving. I’m more of a wall sort of athletic. Like I can only move side to side or fall down quickly. I’m a great goalie. That’s kind of like being a bodyguard. Hey, maybe I can do it.

I remember a show on television a few years ago starring David Alan Grier. I forget the name and think that the government erased all information of it from the Internet. The plot was that he was a Secret Service Agent who walks around trying to protect the president. An attempt on the president’s life is made and DAG (that’s the name of the show! Weird how things like that come into your head) dives in the wrong direction. Then he has to protect the first lady instead. So, the president is an evil enough man that he doesn’t fire DAG, he just demotes him to protect his wise cracking wife who I imagine was played by Wanda Sykes but know it wasn’t. The show lasted only about 3 episodes. It was greatly hyped too. That just goes to show you. Even if you are nominated for a Golden Globe, you still might suck. I’m talking to you The New Girl! Learn to write a joke!

Lets say I had to be a bodyguard. Like I had a gun to my head. They said “protect me or I’ll shoot you.” I’d probably respond back and say “so I choose if you shoot me or one of your assassins does?” Then the gunman will look around realizing how strange this situation is. He’ll readjust the deal and I’ll become a bodyguard anyway. But this time he lets me have the option for being a bodyguard for anyone I want. I think I would choose Donald Trump. Not enough people want him dead, he has a lot of connections, his daughter is hot, he’d probably set me up in a nice apartment in Trump Towers, maybe he could help me get a TV deal, and he could probably handle any potential killers on his own. It would be an easy job. I don’t particularly like the guy, but that doesn’t matter. I don’t particularly like anyone or anything. At least Donald would be interesting to work with. Plus he’s probably friends with a couple of crazy millionaires have yacht races or pay high-end prostitutes to have knife fights.

When you need a bodyguard in your life that’s when you know you’ve really made it. Someday I hope I will need one. I want so many people to hate me and want me dead that I hire a couple of tough looking fat guys to walk around with me to make sure I don’t get hurt. Until then I’ll have to fight my own battles. Thwart off enemies with my amazing wit and charm. I’ve never been punched and only picked up and dropped three times. I must be doing something right.

  1. And most importantly, he has great hair. (The Donald)

    • mooselicker says:

      Watching Home Alone 2 over the weekend he has a quick scene in it. Kevin enters the hotel and asks him a question. It’s the Donald who points him in the right direction.

  2. Lisa says:

    Having a body guard would be very cool but I wouldn’t want to invite them in my house. I think I would be bothered by having them around me when I was at home so I would only call on them when I went out. I don’t like having any extra people in my home, and by “extra” I mean, plumbers, electricians, carpenters, painters, mailmen, neighbors, extended family, etc. : )

    • mooselicker says:

      Sometimes I forget how much alike we are. I’d want my bodyguard to be a buddy or something. Someone like me who isn’t as good. Also much bigger and braver. Maybe more dumb too. Anyone willing to take a bullet for me has some mental problems.

  3. cat. says:

    Very entertaining write, Mr Moose Love, cat.

  4. Lily says:

    Hahah they should have called me fat fuck and left it at that. I’m a babysitter, but I think of the worst nick names for the kids. Jack Attack and Lucy Goosey aren’t exactly the most creative. I haven’t watched The New Girl, but I know I’m already tired of it. We get it, Zooey, you’re quirky. Stop.
    If you need a body guard, I will gladly apply. I’m 6 feet tall, so I’m sure that counts for some kind of toughness, AND I enjoy just standing around and looking annoyed at people.

    • mooselicker says:

      Growing up in Chicago you might actually know of Frank Thomas. His nickname was “The Big Hurt.” At my baseball camp there was a fat kid that was a few years older and they called him “The Big Hurt.” Since I was fat and younger, they called me “Little Hurt” despite still being bigger than mostly everyone. I saw “The Big Hurt” and realized they were already choosing my destiny for me. That kid did jumping jacks funny. There was also a kid named “Mieco” there and I insisted he was named after the raccoon from Pocahontas. Strange days. That’s the end of my nickname stories.

      6’0 feet? I knew you were tall but I didn’t know you were so tall that you’re even taller than what I lie on my license and say I am. When I become mayor, you’re the first person I’m hiring to protect me.

  5. Forcing someone to be a bodyguard is quite odd. You can be sure they just won’t dive. You just can’t force someone to do that, because you don’t have to time to jump behind a person.
    So the chance that someone will put a gun to your head and you can give that (great) answer, is small.

    • mooselicker says:

      You never hear about bodyguards saving the day anymore. They’re more of an intimidation factor. I don’t see how a muscular black man can defend against a machine gun or a stick of dynamite. That’s who you need to take someone out if you hope to be successful. The o’le Alfred Nobel bomb in a stick. It’s very Looney Tunes, but rarely fails.

      (I’m probably on some watch list after this)

  6. I remember being round someone’s house when the film The Bodyguard was mentioned. I voiced the opinion that it looked a bit shit.

    Someone else then mentioned that they got it as part of a honeymoon present and it was one of their favourite films.

    I remained silent.

    • mooselicker says:

      I am very glad you said “someone’s house” and not “friend’s house.” Nobody who liked that movie could be a friend.

      *I’ve never seen the movie. The song was enough to drive me away.

  7. Adair says:

    I’ve never understood the need for Personal Assistants. They are a step below the Bodyguard, whom everyone gives automatic respect because you can look at them and know they’ll just mess you up using one hand. What is a Personal Assistant going to do? Throw their bosses’ Starbucks Iced Skinny Carmel Mocha Latte at you and hope one of the ice cubes blinds you? I’m of the opinion anyone who says they nnnnnneeeeeeeeddddddddd a Personal Assistant really just needs Valium and a Smartphone and to quit thinking they are all that because they aren’t. Suck it up, and book your own damn plane ticket. Not that I was ever an Assistant.

    • mooselicker says:

      I think most assistants have been replaced by interns. You make a great point though, most people don’t really even need one. I know that if I ever became stinking rich I would hire one. All I would do is hire them to count my money then I’d remind that it belongs to me, not them. I’ll be the most evil billionaire ever.

  8. Adair says:

    Interns don’t get paid. Personal Assistants get paid, barely. So, because they are paid, they are abused even more. Not that I’d know from experience. I mean, everyone has a boss who insists they go to a major mall and search for a white blouse they really wanted but didn’t get so you spend 10 hours of your life looking at white blouses and sending photos and being screamed at because you can’t find the exact item. Just a ‘might have happened to some poor putz’ kind of scenario. Just remember do not do a Scrooge McDuck and dive into your Money Bin. I’d hate to have to be your Personal Assistant and have to clean the brains and blood off the bucks. (almost a true alliteration, but, I missed it by >< much)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s