WHY I'M BADASS: Benoît Lelièvre

Benoît choking out some fool because of how ugly his freakin' sweater is

Consider the French. Wait. Don't. Consider the French Canadians. They're our tougher, hardier, more angry at having Elizabeth on their money and taking craps that don't float northern next door neighbors. They spend six months of the year wrasslin' polar bears and having fist-fights (where occasionally a hockey game breaks out). In the frigid villages and frozen hamlets in the French Canadian north, they judge your manhood by how many bones you've broken before your seventh year during fisticuffs and against the length of a baguette. They do not like Americans and we do not like them, but we have a grudging respect for each other.

Enter Benoît Lelièvre. Do not judge him on the accents within his name. He got those from killing people. And inventing Benoît-Balls.

JHJ: Why are you badass? Please explain your badassery.

BL: I’m to martial arts what Gunnery Sergeant Hartman is to Full Metal Jacket. I take light, bubbly and careless youth and turn them into fighting machines. I yell at bigger and stronger men then me and they do push-ups if they talk back.

JHJ: So you're Canada's Lee Ermey. I don't know if that's a good thing or not. But it is badass. What’s the most bad-fucking-ass thing you’ve ever done?

BL: Fight two rounds with a broken arm. My focus was so set on “kill” that it didn’t even hurt. After the fight, one of my training partners gently remarked that my arm was so crooked that it looked like the letter “J” and that I should go to the hospital. I didn’t lose that fight. I drew with a broken arm.

JHJ: How many weapons do you own (not including your hands)?

BL: I own a cricket paddle and a mean ass fucking dog. Not to mention I can turn whatever the fuck I feel like into a weapon. My living room is your death and my kitchen is your autopsy table.

JHJ: Killing me in a kitchen would be a sure route to cannibalism. I would be pretty delicious. I believe I'm what they call "well-marbled." Okay. Even badasses have a soft side. A mark of a true badass is to be able to admit his love. What do you love without stint or reservation? (If you say “My kids” or “My cat” you are not badass. Those are given. Be bold.)

BL: I love the snore-like sound of somebody gasping for air. I also like musicals. Badasses love musicals, but they don’t star in them. Last time I sung “Grease Lightning” in the shower, my neighbor checked-in to a suicide prevention center. It was last summer. He’s still there.

JHJ: I must disagree. Badasses DO star in musicals. I present Guys and Dolls (starring Frank Sinatra and Marlon Brando) Robin and the 7 Hoods (starring all of the Rat Pack) for your consideration. Those are badass musicals. But enough about music. Let's move on to books. What’s the most badass book ever written?

BL: Hogdoggin’ by Anthony Neil Smith. Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk being a close second.

JHJ: What’s the most badass movie you’ve ever seen?

BL: Rambo IV. I know it’s not called Rambo IV, but badasses number things. Because they’re organized and shit. Issues of carnage, mental problems and pure fucking manhood are discussed. Inside a river a blood. Rambo II being a close second.

JHJ: When you’re out and about, being a total fucking badass, what music do you listen to?

BL: Motorhead. Preferably albums No Remorse or Inferno. You can grow a beard from the guitar riffs alone.

JHJ: You ever kill a man? Describe how you’d kill your worst enemy. Make it good.

BL: I would beat him to death with his own shoes. Or my own shoes if he’s barefooted. Or anybody’s shoes if necessary. Flip-Flops included. I’m sure you’re wondering how is it possible to kill a man with flip-flops? I don’t.

JHJ: How would you dispose of his/her body?

BL: I would tie the body behind my car and drive aimlessly until there’s nothing left.

JHJ: When you’re at the Badass Cave, cold chilling with your significant other(s) – and you guys are going to drink and feast and get freaky. Describe that badass night – your meal, your music, your drink. Getting your badass super-freak on. Don’t be shy. We’re all freaks here.

BL: There’s a rule to badass meals. Meat. And it has to be eaten in the most badass way possible, so ripped from the bone with your goddamn teeth. That makes ribs the most badass food ever engineered. Since it needs to be barbecued, mandatory music is Motorhead or Chrome Division. Or maybe Bootsy Collins since he’s a badass pimp. Gorge that in Canadian beer and put some guns and a spa in the mix and you got yourself a badass evening.

JHJ: The mounties got lucky and caught your badass self by the American border. You’re about to be hanged or whatever they do in Canada. What are your badass last words?

BL: None of your mothers will ever forgive you this.

JHJ: So, you write books, do you? What’s your work about and how is it badass?

BL: Yeah, I write. Or I’m trying too. I have a few stories completed (one to be published this year for sure), but my main project is a novel. It’s about this kid who gets well acquainted with death at a very young age, so everybody that he loves is dead. When his last loved ones die horribly, he transforms into a super-badass because he doesn’t care about anything but retribution, right? That’s a novel about turning into a badass for the right reasons. No matter if it’s legal or not.

JHJ: Where can we view some of that awesome stuff?

BL: Like I said, nothing’s out yet, but you can check out my blog where I talk about badass books, movies and other things. www.deadendfollies.com

JHJ: Thanks for playing. You are totally badass.