Ted Nugent is one of the most prolific American rock legends of the twenty-first century , having released approximately thirty-four records to date , and has sold tens of millions world-wide. He is best known for songs such as Cat Scratch Fever , Wango Tango , Stranglehold , and Free For All. Sometimes referred to as the Motor City Madman he is also an avid hunter , a spokesman for the Outdoor cable channel , a board member of the NRA , and an outspoken critic of the Democratic party.
During a 2007 concert , he once suggested that Barack Obama , Nancy Pelosi , and Hillary Clinton have a foursome with his machine gun. Needless to say , none of them took him up on his offer.
Recently , I spoke with Ted about a couple of his favorite hobbies … hunting – which includes killing and blowing things up – and his obsession with Megan Kelly.
“Has hunting always been your favorite hobby?”
“It’s always been my greatest love , ever since I was a kid. I just love to kill things and blow things up ,” he said with a mischievous grin from his Michigan ranch. “When I was eight , my parents bought me a pellet gun for Christmas. I remember it was a Daisy Red Ryder. It was the first gun I ever owned. I loved that gun. I thought it was the greatest thing a kid could ever have. It was like my best friend. I loved it so much , I named it Ted Jr.. When I didn’t have anyone to talk to , I would have conversations with it. I carried it with me everywhere I went. I ate with it , I slept with it , and I even shat with it. The only place I wasn’t allowed to take it , was to school. I really wanted to take it to school with me. There was this kid that bullied me almost every day. His name was Timmy Toland. But I called him Timmy The Tank , because he was built like one. He was at least three times my size. Almost every day he would steal my lunch , give me wedgies – sometimes even atomic wedgies – rub my face in dirt , and sometimes him and his buddies would bring bags of dog doody to school and take turns rubbing it in my face , and I would have to go to class smelling like crap , while my class mates laughed at me.
“I wanted to take that gun to school with me so badly , so I could shoot those bastards eyes’ out.
“My father told me that if I ever threatened to shoot anybody with it , I would get the ass whooping of my life. Which , of course , was inevitable and came all too soon. I always expected I would get the ass whooping of my life , but I didn’t think it would be that soon. You see , my brother Johnny , who was two years younger than me at the time , was jealous that I’d gotten a Red Ryder. Apparently , he wanted one of his own , so one day , on a weekend , I guess he thought it would be cool to play with it while I was asleep. I remember it was a Saturday morning , just minutes before sunrise. And I also remember there was one box of pellets left and he used them all. Well , when I found out what he had done , I totally blew my cool. I mean , I complete lost it. I don’t think I’ve ever been that pissed off at anybody – that is , until fifty-two years later when I’d learned that Obama the Kenyan communist had somehow weaseled his way into the White House.
“When I confronted him – Johnny , not Obama – he tried to blame it on our older brother , Jeffrey. ‘Why are you blaming me?’ he whined. ‘How do you know it wasn’t Jeffrey?’
“I knew it wasn’t Jeffrey , because Jeffrey wasn’t jealous of us. John was always the jealous one. He was always crying and complaining that we always got everything we wanted and he never got anything. Of course , he was full of crap , and I told him so. Then I gave him a Nugent Noogie , what Jeffrey gave to the both of us whenever we annoyed him. Second , I gave him a Smelly Nugent – a butt rub to the face , including an expulsion of methane. And third , I made him suck on the barrel of my Red Ryder , while I pulled the trigger. He cried like a little girl , and shat his pants.
“He immediately went running to our father – smelling like crap – telling him what I had done. And that was when I received the ass whooping of my life. It didn’t matter that the gun wasn’t loaded. My father was pissed and determined to punish and humiliate me. Which is exactly what he did. He bent me over his knee , butt naked , while the whole family watched , and gave my ass a good whooping with a ping-pong paddle. And it hurt just as much as he promised it would. But of course , it wasn’t the only ass whooping I got. I got plenty more ass whoopings before my twelfth birthday , but none of them hurt quite as much as that first one.
“For that little stunt , my father took Ted Jr. away from me. I wasn’t allowed to touch it for a month. He kept it locked in his gun cabinet , and carried the key in his wallet. And again , it didn’t matter that there wasn’t any pellets to shoot it with.
“When I was ten , my father took Johnny and me hunting with him and Jeffrey , for the first time. By then I had my first shot-gun , a Browning automatic. I named it Ted III. My father loved to kill things and blow things up too , ever since he was a kid. Like his father did before him. Which is where he learned to love to kill things and blow things up. Jeffrey also loved to kill things and blow things up. The three of us were real manly men , because we loved to kill things and blow things up. The only one who didn’t love to kill things and blow things up , was Johnny. He was a regular sissy boy. He looked like a sissy girl , he talked like a sissy girl , and he ran like a sissy girl. Everything about him screamed girly boy. Our mother always pampered him. He was a momma’s boy. So it was no surprise he turned out to be such a sissy.
“I loved killing and blowing up small animals with Ted III. On that first hunting expedition , I managed to kill and blow up a total of four jack rabbits , a weasel , a family of four raccoons – a momma and her kids – a family of four possums – another momma and her kids – twenty-seven tree frogs , seven rats , ten field mice , two wood chucks , and twenty-five birds , including six pigeons , twelve ducks , and three geese. I was a regular killing machine. I out shot both my father and Jeffrey. Neither of them killed or blew anything up. And Johnny , all he did was barf and crap and pee his pants , and cry like a little girl the whole time I was killing and blowing things up. Finally , he ran home screaming to our mother like the little girly boy he was.
“My father never took him hunting again. Which was fine with me. If he had come with us a second time , and crapped and peed himself , and cried like a little girl , I probably would have wound up adding him to the long list of all the animals I had killed and blown up.
“I never had so much fun. I felt so alive. It was exhilarating. I’d killed things with my Red Ryder , but with those wimpy little pellets , it was impossible to blow them up. Part of the fun of killing something , is blowing it up. I like to see blood and guts and fur flying all over the place. I get off on it. And that’s why hunting has always been my favorite hobby , because it’s so much fun to kill and blow things up that can’t shoot back at you.”
“Recently , you got into a bit of a controversy over some remarks you apparently made about Megan Kelly concerning her criticism of Donald Trump during the republican presidential debate. Do you regret those remarks?”
“Not a chance. Let’s face it. Megan Kelly is a bimbo. It’s no surprise to anyone. Every time she opens her mouth , nothing substantial comes out. She’s just reading from a script or a teleprompter. She has no actual opinions of her own. If she did , I wouldn’t watch her. If she had any brain cells in that empty head , that were capable of a cognitive thought process , it wouldn’t be half as fun. She’s like a blow up doll. Speaking of blow up dolls. I have two. One looks like Ann Coulter , and the other looks like Sarah Palin , two of the smartest women I know , because they’re patriotic gun loving Americans like I am.”
“Are you obsessed with Megan Kelly?”
“Not really. I will admit that I watch her every day , and I’m always butt naked when I do , and I’ve always got Ann and Sarah with me , while I’m loading one of my guns. That feeling of cold metal on my junk , as I stroke it , imagining that it’s Megan doing the stroking , while Ann and Sarah watch , is exhilarating , and ecstatic. It’s like hunting and screwing at the same time. It really gets me off. I never fail to blow my nuts. Sometimes even the gun will blow it’s nuts at the same time I do , blasting holes in the walls , scaring the crap out of both me and my dogs.”