As a younger man, when I first began writing SargeWorld on the wrapper of a BK Big Fish sandwich at a rest stop near Reno (after losing everything but my 1984 Toyota Cressida and my moxie playing Pai Gow Poker), I swore my plucky little blog would one day be the cornerstone of vast media empire. As my frenzied pen skedaddled across the sea-scented tablet, its felt tip hurdling over driblets of tartar sauce I had failed to lick off in my frantic blitz to put pen to wrapper, I was laying the groundwork for what I dreamed would be a golden, honey-drizzled future.

SargeWorld would be the media equivalent of the British Empire at its height. Television would be my Americas, the Internet my India, film my Australia (with fewer queer comedies featuring ABBA soundtracks), and a revolutionary line of coffee table books my Sarawak.

Obviously, I was still a little hopped up from all the complimentary Rum and Mr. Pibbs I drank while losing all my savings on that fiendish felt. Let’s just say things haven’t exactly gone according to plan.

But all that is about to change! I am proud to announce two new SargeWord territories, namely “Kang’s Korner” and “View from the Canyon.”

Kang’s Korner is the fierce musings of my old friend, self-defense expert Rickey Kang.

Rickey doesn’t have or realize the existence of email, but his ornate writings somehow get to me by appearing, I have no idea the fuck how, on vellum scrolls left in the vegetable hydrator of my refrigerator.

I hope you come to learn as much from this Great American as I have since introducing myself to him at a Thin Lizzie concert in 1996. I wish you could have also witnessed how he effortlessly snapped the femur of a lippy security guard using a move I can only describe as a flying head-butt with lots of fire coming from somewhere. It was pretty awesome.

“View from the Canyon with Johnny O’Banion” is an altogether different, but no less dangerous, animal. I’m not sure I’m capable of describing his type of entertainment reporting or Johnny himself, so allow me to quote this description from his publicist, Stewart:

Johnny O’Banion has been an entertainment reporter in Los Angeles since he dropped out of Colgate University in 1968, stole an Oldsmobile Custom Cruiser station wagon from a neighbor, and headed west. Perhaps most well known for his freewheeling stream-of-consciousness writing style, sexual addictions, drug-induced paranoia/psychosis, and love of wolves, Johnny has been a fixture of the Hollywood in-crowd for generations.

Seemingly ageless, Johnny chalks his youthful appearance up to a steady diet of Mount Gay rum, ham loaf, and fresh lemons. Hold on tight, because Johnny’s got a ticket to the Stardust Rodeo, and you’re riding shotgun!

Facts about Johnny O’Banion

• Favorite Country: Hollywood!

• Car of Choice: Fiat

• It you think of a number, any number, Johnny O’Banion will be able to guess that number 35% of the time

• Johnny O’Banion is three-quarter wolf

Because both Rickey and Johnny are better at operating phones than email machines, look for them to regularly post audio blogs that they record on my answering machine. Also, you will soon be able to write them emails which Joey will print out and send to them via pigeon. I advise you against including your home address in any correspondence.

I hope you’re as excited about all this as I am. And if you’re a journalist with Variety or The Hollywood Reporter, I can make myself available for interviews.

SargeWorld: A Proud Place on the Up and Up!

B.S. I swear on Joey’s tortured soul that the next installment of our award-winning podcast, Infected, will be available within 48 hours, if not sooner.

I’ve always been a diehard PC guy. And I swear, until recently, I’ve never touched a Mac in my life. But ever since this year’s MacWorld Expo in San Francisco, I’ve been feeling kind of funny inside. Different. To put it bluntly, I can’t stop thinking about getting my hands on a Mac. I have become…Mac-Curious.

I’ve tried chasing the feelings away by sticking a new hard drive in my big black Gateway box and giving it a RAM job, but when I was sliding in that glistening new SIMM stick, I realized, to my horror, I was thinking about a Mac.

Looking back, I guess I need to admit to myself that for a while now, when I’ve been sitting in coffee shops using my strong, HP Compaq Rugged Notebook, my eyes have wandered. One time, this dude drinking a latte caught me staring at his gorgeous, alabaster G4 PowerBook. He smiled at me and I freaked out. Flustered, I got up to leave without even powering down, the weight of my Big Blue machine hanging pendulously in my computer bag.

My girlfriend has a Mac, and she loves it. She’s always going on and on about its beautiful interface, ease of use, and how it takes her mere seconds to accomplish the task at hand. So last week, when she was sleeping, I snuck out of the bedroom, grabbed her PowerBook’s 12.1-inch screen and flipped it up. I experimented with it for hours, feeling a sense of excitement I had never known, until I heard my girlfriend wake up. Terrified, I tried to finish before she caught me but couldn’t figure out how to get the thing to log me off! “God,” I said under my breath. “I wish I knew how to quit you!”

In the end I was forced to do it manually, a hard reboot. I quickly wiped the machine down with an iKlear Apple Polish cloth to clear any smudges I’d left behind, threw the used wipe under the sofa, and went to join my girlfriend in bed, confused.

But I can’t keep living this lie. I need to come out of the server closet. And why should I be embarrassed to do so? Macs aren’t looked down upon anymore, the way they were during the days of the Lisa, or the reckless tenure of CEO John Scully. Everybody’s using them. And furthermore, if Intel, my processor of preference for years, can announce to the whole planet at MacWorld that they’re going inside Macs, why shouldn’t I make a similar announcement?

Well, that’s what I’m doing right now. I’m Mac-Curious, and proud! Get used to it.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m heading down to the Apple Store to drop a wad on one of those new Macs. If I can just figure out how to tell my dad…

So here’s the thing: doing a podcast with Joey and The Gator is like doing a podcast with a filthy Keebler Elf who got thrown out of the tree for trying to hack the magic oven and a sexually predacious, hard-drinking version of Babe Winkleman. Essentially, it’s a recipe for not being able to get all three of us together in the same room, at the same time, to press the red button.

Don’t get me wrong, Joey’s a hard worker. But he’s also a mercenary. If you can’t pay him enough money to support his daily regimen of McGriddles, Pepsi and Hubba Bubba, he’ll walk the fuck out on you. So instead of recording Infected, he’s up in San Jose editing a music video for an Egyptian princess who offered more cabbage. Swear to Christ. And here I didn’t even know they had royalty in Egypt. I thought I read in USA Today it was a beacon of democracy. I wonder if she lives in one of them pyramids.

And as for Gator, well he heard the trout were hitting up near Big Bear, jumped in his F250 and disappeared. Last I heard from him was this email:

“Martain—

Caught me 6 pretty rainbows and a motel desk clerk with a trophy sized azz. Wouldn’t call her a keeper, but fry her up in a little butter and my dick won’t be going hungry ‘til I get back to LA I don’t know the fuck when.

Later,
Gator”

So I apologize. I’ll get you a podcast in a week, after we’re all right back here at the kitchen table of Casa del Sarge talking shit into some microphones.

In the meantime, here’s a mini version of our show, an interesting Infected interview my new friend Orlando Bloom did with my old friend and patron Michael Caine about the future of podcasting. Send the link to all your friends!

(If it’s not at the link, it will be momentarily. Prager promised…)

Why would anyone hire me to work in Las Vegas? I mean, do you really expect me to wake up fresh and ready to go after a night of hard drinking, gambling, loving and buffeting? Well, that’s precisely what I’m doing.

Watch me on DL.TV as I cover the Consumer Electronics Show with my old tech pals Patrick Norton and Robert Heron, three episodes straight. Roger Chang was there too, but contributed little on account a major drinking and gambling bender. The man simply can’t control his appetites. I pity him.