Dave Coulier Tried To Hurt Me

So, it's true. Dave Coullier tried to punch me in the face earlier today. 

It was tense. 

I was working around Temecula BLVD, I was wearing a pair of purple shorts and some shoes. I had no shirt on, because it was chilly outside, and I'm like that. Dangerous and free....

Dave Coullier came bounding down the street like Tigger, but he had no Pants on. 

We attracted like magnets, but then he reared back like a beatle and swung toward my face. He missed because I'm so fucking fast I just leaned back...

I was scared, but barely had a second to collect myself. The "Pappoz" emerged like ants from the hills and started clicking, taking photostats of us. I know what they wanted. I could imagine the cover of US and In Touch this week. I could see it, me laying on the ground with Dave Coullier standing above me laughing. In big white letters it would say :

"POPEYE POPS TROYS EYE"

In this economy, there is a part of me that embraces it. I realize the type of turn around that cover would bring to the publishers in a time when sales are critical. Can you imagine former bad-boy hunk Coullier and me on the same cover, in a fight? If we sold this as a DVD it would be very popular indeed. 

Well, guess what happened next? I stood up and I looked Dave in the eye as flashes burst around us. The Pappoz yelled "Do your own thing Troy, go for you, Troy" they said. I turned to them as Dave switched to a Jackelope voice, taunting me "You Blow" he said in the tiny voice, "you blow bad" he repeated adding umph. I turned to him and said "No. YOU blow". 

That really made him stand stone cold like concrete. He was completely deflated. 

The Pappoz laughed hard and we all mocked him. We joined together to mock what he stands for, and we did it well. 

We did it well.

Working in a strike enviroment, three friends on a beach.

"How do you do it" they ask -- the papparatzo as they comb the set of my already filming epic in the streets of San Carlo. "How do you do it, monsieur?" says a french journalist smoking a cig. I look to the crowd of street urchins, flickering their flashes and smile "I do it for the people".

Like any good man, I stand up when need by, yo. Listen, I told my writing staff that I would pay them to continue to re-write my lines. The initial script is terrible, and I don't feel it sounds 'like me'. So, if I could choose -- I would say an embargo on 're-writers' is necessary.

How would this work? Not unlike a deal struck by David Letterman and his World Wide Pants consortium, I would negotiate directly with the WGA to find a way to secure a deal that would allow this epic to finish, to proceed and blossom like sex on a beach covered with salt and sand. Hollywood NEEDS this, they need Troy. How can anyone argue? I recently sat down with some of my favorite people Actress Hillary Swank and comedian Dave Coulier. We sat down, sipping mimosas and looking at the beauty that is mothers nature. I told Dave that he should join me in my fight, join my fight...he looked at me and said (in the voice of fictional cartoon sailor, Popeyes) "Argh, Matey, ak ak ak ak ah" it was so funny -- Swank laughed and a stream of mimosa/mucus burst forth from her nose, causing me to vomit my mimosa and laugh. Dave LOVES doing that.

We sat down some more, and looked at what mothers nature had created -- the skys, the clouds, I looked at my pants : I thought, 'every fiber of this was created by her, mothers nature'. I said it out loud...I didn't even realize, but I said it out loud. At first, Swank looked at me and she kind of gave me a dirty eye, I felt naked and raw. I felt so bad about myself. I looked to Dave, and he had his shirt off and was punching himself in the tit extremely hard -- his cheast was red. He was making a joke, a joke in light of me. Swank looked me in the eye with a trinkle of sorrow, and she said 'mother nautre is in all of us' . We kind of wept, and cried, and Dave and me kissed for the first time -- he kissed me in the voice of Bullwinkle, and then the Jackalope made a visit.

That night, the three of us wound up in bed together....a bed made of wood, and sheets made of cotton; Mothers Nature would be proud.

Signed, 'Troy'