DWRR readers. Its been a minute. Dang its been a few years since we've spoken. After DW was tragically cut down by the Sinaloa Cartel in a botched peace mission we all needed a break. Its bittersweet to be writing to you today, but I trust the years of quiet separation has done us all some good, as we grapple with a world minus its champion. What happened to David Wesley, our brother, our teacher, our guru, our prince of starkness, was the moment we all understood that we were on ur own, and our destiny would be decided by one man with impeccable posture and a high stakes gambler wit.

The reason Im breaking my silence today is that this month commemorates the 7 year anniversary of the day DW made a margarita so perfect, the Dalai Lama shared it with him. On this day we saw the best David had for humanity, his finest hour. So I can for a nation, a worldwide toast, to a man who drove the bus called earth. We'll miss him.

At the Crossroads

A week after leaving the rehab clinic where I was effectively shielded from the influence of vice, I was relaxing in my chaise when I got a text with no return number.  "At the Crossroads, bring your sunglasses".  I didn't need to spend much time pondering this message, it was DW, and he was about to punk Satan.

A red-eye flight was available so I booked the next flight to Mississippi, packed a small backpack with an incomplete toiletry kit, a pair of skivvies, my black on black ray ban aviators and hit the road.  By the time I landed in Hattiesburg the sky was darker than it should have been.  I was late, and I needed to get to the prince of darkness before DW.  Its not clear what happens to the rest of us when the balance of good and evil is offset by the whimsy of a larger-than-life mortal, bent on playing the arch-angel for a fool.

The cab driver took my 20 and didn't offer up change, it didn't matter.  A couple of bucks seemed like a bargain for the spare minute that might hold the balance of the world within its margins.  I ran as fast as I could towards the non-descript intersection where the endless whizzing-by of oblivious pickups, cars and trucks is only rarely interrupted by the entrance of Beelzebub from his smoky depths.  The haze seemed out of place, but it was a sure sign that DW had already showed...Satan doesn't emerge for just anyone.

Their silhouettes were incongruous to say the least.  One, a 20ft winged behemoth and the other, a flightless man, shrouded in a duster and doffed with a well-worn cowboy hat.  I dashed behind a tree in the median, unwittingly directly next to DW's guitar case.  It was empty.  I shuffled my undies and toothpaste around in my bag until my fingers met a pen and pad.  I pulled it out, sifted quickly through the pages to a fresh one and began to record what might become the beginning of the end, for DW, for all of us.

It was hard to make out what they were saying to each other, but the snorts and clacking of Satan's hoofs on the pavement accentuated the gravity of the negotiations.  It was a stand off.  The counter-balance to all that is good against the boldest man on earth.  I dug in, donned my Ray Bans, wrote furiously and hoped against all hope that mankind's emissary of cool would out-do the done dunnit.

Part II coming soon...

Readers: attached is a note from noted journalist Bill Searchman, who recently made contact with the wraith-like DW as he crosses the country, saving and penetrating. Since I have been sidelined of late, nursing an acute addiction to pharmaceutical pain killers and highly potent marijuana, I'm happy to pass along this colorful report of our generations icon that Bill sent to me this evening:


"DWRR Readers,


It is with esteemed pleasure that I  joyfully announce I recently spoke with David Wesley via Skype for a few minutes as his whereabouts for the latter part of 2011 have remained a mystery. He assured me that he has been living up to his glorious reputation. Indeed, I was absolutely floored by his whimsical energy and joie de vivre. 

Dear friends, our fellow humanitarian David Wesley is alive and well.  In November, he flew off for a short rendezvous at the Playboy Mansion, where Hugh Hefner personally honored him with the esteemed "Legendary Womanizing Humanitarian" award from the Guinness Book of World Records. As of November 2011, he currently holds the world record for charming over 10,355 big breasted women.  Hefner later recalled getting a phone call from basketball legend Wilt Chamberlain congratulating Wesley for his stunning achievement but Hefner admitted that Chamberlain weeped incessantly. His three night stay there would put many hedonists to shame.  From there, he flew to the Mississippi Delta rallying his followers over the injustices of income inequality and marched with hundreds of sycophants ( over 33% were big breasted women), to Washington D.C. where they had a glorious cook out in front of the White House. 


Several lobbyists stopped in awe to watch Wesley with his hightop, white cooking hat that read "Die Lobbyist Scum." It was then that something utterly supernatural occurred, an event of biblical proportions. The smoke from the spare ribs on the grill seemingly took on a life of its own, smothering several lobbyists.  As some of them coughed and begged for mercy, Wesley was heard saying, "Today, we rebuild a new America"  The thunderous applause nearly broke the sound barrier. Through the smoke, one nameless lobbyist from Chase Bank looked on in awe as Wesley was seen cavorting and fornicating with several big breasted brunettes on the White House lawn.  When the smoke cleared, he was gone. In his wake, our humanitarian hero not only gained a newly minted legion of politicians and lobbyists in Washington who now consider themselves "Wesleyians" but an esteemed group of political criminals seriously considering backing him for a 2016 White House run.


Until the next carrier pigeon lands on my shoulder, 


Bill Searchman"

DW at OWS

Occupy Wall St. got a much needed boost today when international enigma and self-styled “extroverted recluse” David Wesley burst onto the scene to offer words of wisdom to the fight weary crowd.  The people coalesced quickly around the femme-aficionado as he serenaded the protesters with inspiration belted from a horn carved from a rhinoceros he rescued from African poachers in his “Safari Period” that later died of old age.

Not one to hold back, Wesley implored the women in the crowd to “break free of your bindings, and remove your brassieres!”.  His suggestion was met with a blizzard of bras thrown from all directions, and a wave of freedom washing over the protestors as the chains of oppression were broken.  It was at this point that he was lifted, seemingly miraculously, to the height of two men and walked stridently towards the façade of Goldman Sach’s headquarters.  With a swift and confident blow he lashed forth one clenched fist and with a thunderous boom, put a crack in the foundation of the building, rattling the occupants and thrilling the protestors.  He turned around and faced the crowd and asked them to “Roar like thunder for freedom!”  and with that the crowd began to rumble out a groaning yell that shook the ground of downtown NYC.  Behind him the crack he made with his furious punch started to grow and snake its way up the side of the building, faster as it got higher, until it reached the top and split the building in half.  With a sound matched only by the crowd’s roar, the building began to fall behind him enveloping Wesley and the stunned protestors in grey dust.

When the cloud settled, the quiet shock was pierced with a thunderous cheer as Wesley emerged unscathed, one foot on the pile of bricks, and another on the neck of Lloyd Blankfein, who could be heard impishly declaring “…whatever you want Wesley!...YOU WIN!”

It was a few hours before anyone realized he was gone, on to another town’s protest, on to another win.  He filled his limo with a few bra-less ladies, some fried chicken and beer.  And I was there, as always, his confidant and biographer…glad to bear witness to the man of our generation.

David Wesley's impact on foreign affairs

While reading as much of the news related to events in Egypt, I was struck by one question: "What does David Wesley have to do with this?". At first blush its not an obvious question. We are all aware of his effect on all cultural movements here in the states and Western Europe, but what of his impact on the Arab world? One might argue that an intellectual and spiritual force as bold as Wesley's would affect anyone in the world, regardless of their place in it. But as I've traveled to the most reclusive corners of the world I discovered that Our Hero isnt as well known as we expect. For instance, while chatting with patrons at a cafe in Yemen, I referred to a story as "Wesleyesque" and the allusion was met with blank stares.

So the question arises, what effect has David Wesley had on the events in Egypt? The answer, unsurprisingly to the initiated, is that he has had a profound effect on the revolutionaries in Egypt. Affectionately nicknamed "Al Wahad" or "the one", Wesley is regularly referred to in chants for the ouster of Mubarak. "Out with Hosni! In with Al Wahad!!!" is heard frequently in the streets.

Rumor has it that Wesley is on the ground in Egypt, making his name available for succession after Mubarak's ouster. We'll keep you informed as things develop.

Top 5 Wesley Moments

In honor of our muse David Wesley, I decided to emulate the Master and create a top 5 list of David Wesley moments.

1) Boarding the Pig – At the Jones Beach Roger Waters concert I attended with Wesley, he grabbed hold of a restraining-cable grounding a large inflatable pig and quietly climbed aboard the neck of the ballooned beast. When the moment in the show came to release the dirigible, it was Wesley who caught the crowd's attention as he floated into the air mounted on the pig’s collar. With thunderous applause from the audience, Wesley, in characteristically good form, somersaulted off the tip of the pig’s nose and into the arms of the adoring throng. Roger Waters himself then grabbed Wesley from fans at the front of the stage and personally escorted him backstage into the Green Room.

2) The International Sampler – Rumor mills were buzzing with the news, last year, that Wesley was seen emerging from a double-stretch limousine with about 10 women, each representing a distinct geographical region of Earth. As they boarded the elevator to the Presidential Suite of the W Hotel, David was heard assuring one of the expectant women “I love all god’s women, and each of you will get your turn”.

3) Unheralded Hot Dog Champion – At last year’s Nathan’s Hot Dog eating competition, Wesley arrived with a group of admirers to the Boardwalk, where he approached the Nathan’s counter and ordered 70 hot dogs and 10 glasses of water. When he was served, he instructed one member of the wait staff to begin her stopwatch. He proceeded to eat all 70 dogs in under one minute, crushing the world record only paces from the actual competition. When offered the World Champion’s belt by a humbled Kobayashi, Wesley brushed it off and said “I was just havin’ a snack. Give that belt to someone who needs it.”

4) Not a Cheesehead- In 2009, David was awarded the “Key to the City” in Madison Wisconsin, the town where he famously made his debut, selling nearly 2 metric tons of ascorbic acid to a local pharmaceutical firm. Wesley took the key and, in a breathless moment, gave it to a child suffering from cerebral palsy who had accompanied him onstage.

5) Stouffer’s Loafers – One brisk morning last year, in the depths of the Great Recession, Wesley paid a visit to an unemployment office in signature style. Piloting a refrigerated delivery truck, Wesley skidded to an angled stop in front of the government building and swung the truck doors open to reveal stacks of un-cooked Stouffer’s frozen meals. With a gliding arm gesture Wesley motioned to the down-trodden to have at the bounty. He walked away from the scene with his hands warming in his pocket, the tableau of satisfied admirers blurring in the distance.

Weight loss tips from DW...

In David's most recent entry to Suite 101, he plumbs the depths of phenotypic possibility with a round-up of weight-loss suggestions. We get fat, gorging ourselves on his how-to-get-skinny tips!

To start off, David implores us to "..take a run". This no doubt refers to his and our exploration of psychedelic mediums from which David regularly reveals inspiration (see: "Four Unintentionally Hilarious Films") . With his typical guile, David restrains our enthusiasm with a strident "...its not always the right exercise plan for asthmatics or arthritis sufferers". We arent fooled by this end-run around his initial admonition, yet we are still intrigued, as always, to read on.

Never shy to display his expansive mathematical insight, David cruises past the universal speed limit with a bold paragraph, entitled: "Instead of Three Meals a Day, Eat Five Smaller Meals". After a few minutes away from the computer screen with my head buried in a calculator, I am beginning to see where he is going with this. Ill post an update when my grasp is firm enough to elucidate this calculation, but for now Ill leave it as the open question Wesley intends it to be.

We are left with the bitter taste of Wesleyan futility, when in his last paragraph he offers this piece of circular logic: "You may want to lose weight fast for a wedding, but remember, you'll probably over-compensate with large meals at the event and later on." This classic "snake eating its tail" nuance leaves us staggering in an effort to retain hold of our perception of reality whilst attempting to keep our weight reasonable.

Is it possible to stay thin amidst so much cognitive dissonance? Is there a point to any of this "weight-loss" hysteria? Is fat good? Bad? In quintessential form, Wesley leaves all of these questions open to interpretation.

Me? Im gunna has a cheezburger...