American Heathen®

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R.J. Evans
Early life

Born November 30, 1961, RJ Evans, the son of a telemarketer and an insurance salesman, was born into a rental duplex in Minnesota. His parents, Rampant Joint Evans and Running Juice Evans, named him RJ for short – and because he was short: the little prick was home-schooled in reading, writing, and fishing with shotguns.

Taken away from Minnesota by missionaries, RJ spent most of his youth in Virginia playing soccer, jamming forks into light sockets, and building “American Gladiators” style obstacle courses in his back yard. After attending Florida State University to major in snack foods, RJ grew to over 2000 lbs. By then his initials stood for Really Gigantic Evans, showing that he was the product of religious education. He really believed Gigantic is spelled with a J.

Just before graduation, RJ heard his country’s call: he lost the weight and the religion and answered nature’s call.

Career

Marine Corps

You might say the Marines made a man out of him. RJ became one of the few and the proud before the Marines became a leisure service of the American Fundamentalist Church, his initials now standing for Ready to Join Evans. He got in as a scout/sniper. This is where his home schooling came in handy, although he finally learned that trigonometry has nothing to do with weapons. RJ helped train members of the Royal Thai Army in reconnaissance, Jap slaps and tattoo application. Mostly RJ provided security services at the officers club, keeping the wives busy while the officers partied inside.

The only operation RJ was assigned to turned out badly. He was ordered by an Army commander to secure a building recently liberated from the communists. Now, to the Army, “Secure the building” means put guards around the place. To the Navy it means turn out the lights and lock the doors. To the Air Force “secure the building” means take out a 5-year lease with an option to buy. But, being a Marine, RJ understood his orders to mean kill everybody inside and make it a command post.

Musician

After leaving the Marines, RJ – now transformed to Recovering Jarhead Evans – started composing memorable music. Of course, he had to have a day job while waiting for his big break, a job in which he had to move those microwave ovens, custom kitchens delivery, he had to move those refrigerators, and those color TVs. Because, when you think about it, that ain’t working. Money for nothing and your chicks for free?

But RJ worked hard, hoping to strike it big. While teaching Sinéad O’Connor how to compose Gaelic tunes, RJ also shaved his head. But as soon as O’Connor was ordained an Irish priest, RJ became a bald atheist.

Broadcaster

It is a mystery what turned RJ into an angry (bald) atheist, but as such, RJ had a lot to say. So naturally, he became a broadcaster. RJ was not happy with his new radio name, Radio Joystick Evans, but he stuck it out, anyway. At his first radio station, KRUD, he was fired for using ho-fag-dago-wop-lesbo-mick-raghead-wetback and negro all in one sentence. It seems KRUD’s hymie lawyer was offended.

Now RJ’s radio days were back when you edited with a razor blade and slip-cued records to find the opening of the track; back when commercials were on endless loop carts you erased with bulk erasers and broadcast boards had round knobs and VU meters with needles; back when everything was analog – and “digital” meant you used your fingers. Come to think of it, RJ is still doing that!

Body builder

To get back into Marine-Corps shape, RJ became a bodybuilder – known now as Ripped Jockstrap Evans – so now he was a body builder and a Marine. And I guess it goes without saying that he knows the best source of protein for a bodybuilder: another bodybuilder! Now I’m not saying RJ is a hardcore bodybuilder, but…

• He’s used the terms “carb loading”, “insulin spike”, and “donuts” in the same sentence.
• He can name 10 other competition-level bodybuilders, other than Arnold Schwarzenegger, Lou Ferrigno and Steve Reeves.
• He’s counted “reps” even while masturbating.

Personal life

After RJ found an old Harley Davidson, he took to the road, now dubbed Road Jockey Evans. RJ chose Harley because he knows 98% of all Harleys ever sold are still on the road. The other 2% made it home!

He met his wife, Sherry, the biker chick known affectionately as Peeper, at a truck stop in Norman, Oklahoma, and promptly proposed. And who wouldn’t want to marry a bald, tattooed, biker, ex-marine angry talk-show atheist? RJ has been married to the beautiful and sexy-voiced Sherry, otherwise know as “Peeper,” for 28 years.

And RJ is very protective of his wife. One day, RJ called me, very upset. What’s wrong, I asked. “I just went home and caught my ol’ lady screwing my best friend!” What did you do? I asked. “Well, I grabbed her by the hair, threw her out naked, threw her clothes out after her, and told her never EVER to come back.” That’s harsh, I said. What did you do to your friend? “I marched right back upstairs, I wagged my finger at him and said: bad dog!”

Surprisingly, baldness did not dissuade his wife, Peeper, from marrying him. Even though when he wears a turtleneck sweater RJ looks like a roll-on deodorant. Even though he’s so bald you can see what he’s thinking. At least he never has a bad hair day!

Nowadays we’ve dispensed with what RJ stands for. To us, we love him as just RJ. But age is creeping up on old RJ. Not that he has changed much. Every morning he takes a good dump, then has a long, strong piss, just like when he was a teenager. Only problem is, nowadays all this happens about five minutes before he wakes up!

I have to start by reading a quote from RJ’s announcement of the “Roastapalooza”:

“The old roast saying is true: “You only roast the ones you love”. Bear in mind that the jokes, insults, and wisecracks are done not out of vindictiveness but out of appreciation and affection.”

Sounds to me as if RJ might be a little worried about what might happen here. Are we worried about the chickens coming home to … roast?? Awww … Poor wittle RJ, pobrecito … he’s concerned that he might get zinged pretty roughly. Well, given his willingness to put someone else on the hotseat, is he too sensitive to accept his just desserts? Can he dish it out, but not take it? Well, we’re finding out tonight!

Welcome to RJ’s Palace of Perniciousness here in beautiful southeast Norman! You may have noticed that the place is meticulously clean – I mean, how could you miss it? Does anyone actually fucking live here? RJ is such a neat freak he makes Felix Unger look like Attila the Hun. He’s so anal retentive about housecleaning, he’ll probably be about 3 days tied up after this party cleaning up after we leave. You won’t see much of RJ but his ass and his elbows until the place once again meets his exacting standards! That’s probably better than what we normally have to see, though! But, just for giggles, use your white gloves to check out the tops of the picture frames …

Speaking of “The Odd Couple,” RJ may be such a neat freak because he’s such a girlie boy … in fact, he turns out to be a pretty darned good wife for Sherry. [Too bad he can’t cook, though!] I mean, the tattoos, the Harley, and the shaved head – all just a gigantic pose for RJ to disguise his sorry state of masculinity. He’s such a terrific breadwinner – he hasn’t held a steady job for so long that none of us can remember him ever being gainfully employed. RJ makes up for his inability to be gainfully employed by sending Sherry off to work in Wichita for the better part of two weeks at a time. I mean, you gotta give RJ a lot of credit in the bullshitting department – somehow he has this incredibly gorgeous, sexy, and hugely intelligent wife and he’s lucky when his man-meter bumps the needle off of dead zero! Assuming he actually has a needle on the meter!! Sherry brings home the money in buckets and RJ spends it – Peeper, I think hiring a maid to do the housecleaning would turn out to be a lot cheaper!! And a darned sight better looking, too!

Of course, Sherry’s labors on behalf of this loafer have financed the whole ShockNet Radio operation we’re here to commemorate tonight. RJ has used this venue to great effect, of course – windmills around the world are quaking in fear at the very idea of a verbal attack by RJ! Vast hordes of followers (well, maybe 2 or 3 misguided souls) are ready to do his bidding!! In his American Heathen editorials, RJ shows off his people skills by telling folks their most cherished beliefs could only be held by microcephalic cretins – but that they shouldn’t take his comments personally! No wonder ShockNet has such an enormous following! A listing of the former friends he’s alienated would be so long, if they actually listened to his shows, Progressive Insurance and JG Wentworth would be ringing his phone off the hook begging to sponsor ShockNet!!

Well, I certainly could go on at some length, but … I have to stay within the time limits. Of course, I must admit that RJ is correct about something! We only roast the folks we love. RJ has been a great friend, including in times of need, as well as when things are going well. I admire his honesty, his genuineness, his generosity, and his devotion to Sherry. Thanks, RJ, for letting us have so much fun at your expense.

Last night (12/10/10) was one of those rare, but outrageous, evenings that causes me great physical and emotional pain.  Not bad pain… well other than the occasional beast of a belly cramp caused by uncontrollable laughter.  My best friend Chuck is responsible for my pain last night.  Well, at least in part.  And, now that I have had only a few hours of sleep, most of it laden with images of smiling faces, laughter, tears, and chocolate cake…  let me tell you the story.

Last night saw the close of the ShockNet Radio show season.  Friends and colleagues came together at the ShockNet Radio studio compound to throw a party that is unmatched in the history of the station.  With about twenty people in attendance, the pizza sizzled, the wine flowed, and the insults were hurled with abandon at me… and they were priceless.  We were celebrating five years of the station’s existence, five years of change, and five years of friendship.  On top of all that, my friend Chuck had somehow managed to change the focus of this event from the simple celebration of an anniversary to the celebration of my birthday.  Wrapped neatly into a three-hour show (that went into sudden death overtime), Chuck made it known to everyone that he would not be denied the opportunity to singe me to a golden brown crisp.  He also chided anyone within earshot to join the thuggery, the mugging of an innocent man (a lie).

Three weeks ago I announced a big anniversary celebration for ShockNet Radio on one of the station’s shows.  Chuck, only present in the cyberspace of one of the ShockNet chat rooms, chimed in following my announcement and declared that the anniversary show should include the celebration of my birthday.  The day of my entrance to the world stage was November 30th.  Even though the time of my birth would have expired by the date of the anniversary show, Chuck insisted that I be on the receiving end of some verbal carnage.  He wanted a roast.  Of course, not the tender, juicy, bovine kind.  No.  He wanted my hind quarters on a spit, roasted in a blast furnace.  I reluctantly agreed.  So, the party’s focus was now officially Chuck’s coup.  And me?  I was trying to book a plane ticket to anywhere outside the United States.

So, last night they gathered, speeches (weapons) at the ready.  Friends and colleagues – words that are interchangeable -  gripped their pages of punition, and waited patiently for their opportunity to thrust their verbal lances deep into the lean meat of my character.  They would not be denied.  As I was forced to sit quietly (which is a lie), I listened as the verbal assault was unleashed upon me.  It was hard… no… it was impossible for me to believe that these people were my friends!  Stab, slash, rip, tear, skewer… It was all in a nights work for these diatribes of retribution.  The words were searing.  Some carefully crafted,  some written hastily but potently on napkins at the last-minute… All were masterpieces of vindictive and abusive  fun.  And yet, as I endured this torture and pain – that even this morning is strangely orgasmic – I knew one absolute… I was loved.  I am loved.

Being loved is an unfamiliar feeling to me.  My life has been a strange trip through my 49 years of existence. Fraught with the carnage of desperation, bitterness, and rejection, I rarely ever knew or felt love.  So, on the rare occasions where I find myself being offered such a rare commodity, I’m not quite sure what to do with it, how to cope with it, how to soak it in.  But, when it is delivered in a way that seems counterintuitive to its namesake, I somehow understand it, embrace it, and cherish it. Yes, my idea of love is different from most people.   But, that’s the kicker.  Love is a concept, and unless we know someone else’ definition of love, unless we understand it, love can easily be lost.

Last night I understood the love being hurled at me at a million miles an hour.  And as violent as its impact was, I understood and took the blows to heart.  And, as I sat quietly (a lie) trying to steel myself to the gut wrenching pain, love washed over me.  These combatants weren’t my enemy… they were my family.

My mental waterboarding came to an end after more than an hour.  I was given the traditional last word, an opportunity to rebut the un-re-butt-able.  I countered, dodged, weaved, re-directed, and then I sighed, took a deep breath and said to myself  ‘I’m so loved. Wow’ … and then I called an ambulance.

“Good evening ladies and germs…”

“But enough about me, let’s talk about you… what do you think of me?”

Ladies and gentlemen, believers and non-believers, I am David 2 and I have the honor of serving as the master of ceremonies for this Friday’s special broadcast of “American Heathen®”.

The December 10th show will be special for many reasons.  We will be marking the show’s 50th episode, we will be celebrating the 5th anniversary of ShockNet Radio, we will have special guests, a live phone interview, auctions, prizes, and a few other shockers in the works.

But more than that, we will have the first-ever on-air Internet radio ROAST of RJ Evans!  Yes, the dream of 2Buck Chuck will finally be realized as he will join yours truly and an all-star list of ShockNet Radio’s friends and family in an on-air radio roast.  And YOU TOO will be allowed to take part in the festivities.

Yes, during the on-air roast we will open up the phone lines for you the listeners to call in so you can get in your jabs at RJ.  However as Roastmaster, I must point out a few things…

1. Callers will only have 2 minutes.  NO EXCEPTIONS!  The clock starts right after I introduce you, and if you’re still talking after two minutes you’ll be musically escorted away.

2. Remember, we’re Internet radio, so there are no FCC limitations.  You can curse.

3. RJ is the guest of the hour although technically anyone in the studio is fair game.  Just bear in mind that the reverse is true and that the guest of the hour always has the last laugh at the end of the night.

4. The old roast saying is true: “You only roast the ones you love”. Bear in mind that the jokes, insults, and wisecracks are done not out of vindictiveness but out of appreciation and affection.

If you need to see good examples of what to expect, I suggest checking out William Shatner’s Roast on Comedy Central.  But don’t feel pressed to come up with something.  Sometimes it’s best to just sit back and enjoy the humor.

So tune in and join in the celebrations this Friday, December 10th, starting at 7pm Central, 8pm Eastern, at ShockNet Radio (and Freethought Radio and at iTunes Radio in the “Classic Rock” category) for a very special “American Heathen®”.