We all have dreams in life. Some dream of a spouse and children. Some dream of a fulfilling professional career. I've always dreamed of having an Unofficial Fan Club.

Well, dreams do come true.

It exists:
Lino Rulli Fan Club

This Dan guy who runs it is hilarious. So do yourself a favor and join the fan club.

And remember: membership has its benefits. Though I have no idea what those benefits would be.

The pictures of Lino the Boer Goat, Lino the Rooster, Lino the Calf, and much much more are at my website:

www.catholicguy.com

Check it out...

So today was the day. Not just Easter Monday, but the day I shaved my head for St. Baldricks!

I've posted a few pictures here, but check out my website www.catholicguy.com to check out all the pics.

Thanks to everyone who supported the big shave. And though we made our goals, its never too late to go to www.stbaldricks.org, click on find a participant, type in my name, and cough up some money for children's cancer research.

See ya,
A very bald Lino

Last week on "Speak Now with Dave and Susan Konig", they had someone on from St. Baldrick's – which is a charity that raises money for kids with cancer by shaving peoples heads. Out of the blue, a caller dialed in to say he'd give $250 "for Lino Rulli's head". We presume he meant for me to shave my head, and not actually for my head on a platter (though the latter is more Biblical). When asked why he wanted to see my head shaved, he said "I don't know, I thought it'd be funny."

Thus, I'll be shaving my head. I'm not gonna lie, it'll be a sacrifice. But I'll be offering up my sacrifices for the good of others – and you can't get more Catholic than that.

SO...Please consider donating money to St. Baldrick's. We've got a goal of $10,000.
Visit www.stbaldricks.org, click on Find a Participant, search for me - Lino - and give what you can to help conquer children's cancer.

I've given up pizza for Lent. I'm going crazy. I'm 100% Italian, and pretty much eat pizza every day. Except now. Ouch.

So with all the free time I have not eating giant slices of pizza, I've decided to focus my time on something different: I've joined a Fantasy Baseball League.

A friend from Sirius Radio asked if I wanted to join the league. And since I know like 5 people in New York, anytime someone asks me to do anything... I jump on the chance.

"Hey Lino, want to go torture a squirrel?"
"Sure!"

"Hey Lino, want to toilet paper Lino's place?"
"Ok!"

"Hey, Lino, want to join a Fantasy Baseball League?"
"Yes, if you'll be my friend."

I'm like the kid in high school who doesn't have many friends - so he falls into the wrong crowd because at least that crowd will take him.

And I also said yes because I happened to be wearing a baseball jersey that day. A Yankees jersey, to be exact, that was purchased in 1989. (I mention this because it was not a purchase made in band-wagon late 90's.)

The jersey is 18 years old! It's old enough to buy cigarettes. It's already able to drive a vehicle. And because I don't wash it very often, it can practically walk away on its own.

However, I'm not just picking Yankees players for my team. So here's my angle I'm taking on the Fantasy Baseball League: I'm only picking Catholic ballplayers. Guys who I know are on board with the faith. Will their faith in God give me an excellent fantasy team? That's my prayer.

By the way, in case you forgot, I've recently produced a documentary about MLB players and their faith (it's coming out soon!). One of my favorite pics is of me and the production crew with Mike Piazza.

So you probably wouldn't be surprised to hear that Mike Piazza is gonna be on my Fantasy Team, right?

I figure I'm on the Catholic Team (otherwise known as the Catholic Church). So why not make a Fantasy Team of Catholics.

And thankfully, unlike my Fantasy Baseball team - where I pick and choose my teammates – no one gets to pick and choose whether I'm on the Catholic Team. 'Cause if that were the case, I'm afraid I'd be dropped quickly.

Hey,
I'm too lazy to copy and paste my new random thoughts here - so check out my website:

www.catholicguy.com

You can check out what a day in my life looks like. Chances are it's more boring than a day in your life. And you'll feel better about yourself afterwards!

You can thank me later.

Peace out.

I was working in California last week finishing up the editing of a Major League Baseball documentary I've been working on since this past summer.

For the second time in my life, I took American Airlines. Now I'm proud to be an American, but I can't say I was proud to fly on that airline. Here's why:

On the departing flight I got stuck in a middle seat. The guy on my right was, you could say, "larger". You could also say he took up not only his seat - but half of mine.

The 20-something woman next to me was so hungover she literally reeked of booze. You could smell the booze coming out of her pores! I even lifted the front of my shirt to cover my nose for most of the trip.

And considering the size of my nose...suffice to say my tshirt is sufficiently stretched out. Takes a lot of fabric to cover that thing...

And on my flight back to New York? I once again got the middle seat. But, thankfully, I didn't have a hungover woman sitting on my left this time. Instead, I had another huge guy sitting next to me!

I literally had like half my seat, considering I lost a little on the left and right side. But did I get half my ticket price off? Of course not.

I think when we pick our seats, we should be able to see who we're sitting next to. Man, woman, height, weight...I want the whole thing.

Small bladder? Then sit on the aisle please. Me? I've got a great bladder. So I'm a window man.

I'll take an international trip and not bug the person once. Maybe if they get up, I'll get up too. But that's about it. I'll never ask someone to get up so I can use the restroom.

And see, if I entered that information when I bought my ticket? There would be a mad rush. A bum rush if you will .. me being the bum .. to sit next to me.

I think we should have a say in our flight! Not the actual flight pattern or anything of that sort. Nor in selecting the pilots. But on the details like who we sit next to. And what movies are gonna be played.

Because you know what was on my flight? Lassie. LASSIE. Honestly? Is this some sort of a joke? I did not see any kids on the plane. Now if this was a plane going to Disneyland or something, great! But it was mostly business people stuck watching that dog of a movie about a dog.

And then the movie on the return flight? The Queen. I'm sure it's a fine movie. Helen Mirren just won a Golden Globe for it. But it's a movie about Princess Diana. And so the only people watching the movie on the flight were women. I don't know a guy - other than Larry King - who talks much, or watches movies about, Princess Di.

Well my point in this little rant is that I think we should have more of a say in these sorts of things. We're at their mercy when it comes to travel, and it drives me crazy.

Yet you may be surprised to hear that I don't think this is the best approach when it comes to the Church. 'Cause when Church is involved, I don't think it should be a democracy. I think it's best if God is in charge. The Holy Spirit has guided the Church for 2000 years .. so let's let the Spirit, through the Pope and Bishops in union with him, keep leading the way. The more guys like me get involved, the worse things will get.

But the plane? That's for us. Or even just me. And if they leave it up to me? Don't worry - I won't stick you with a middle seat, either. You're one of my myspace friends.

Christmas in an Italian family is usually an absolute free for all. This year was no exception.

I arrive at the Rulli family home to see my dad has the movie "A Christmas Story" on - and absolutely blaring. He's got surround sound speakers everywhere, but like in a very unprofessional way. There's a speaker just sitting randomly on the couch. Another one is over by the cats litterbox. You never know where you'll get a speaker. I have yet to explain to him that "surround sound" doesn't literally mean being surrounded by sound in every room of the house. But oh well. Bigger worries ahead. It is Christmas, after all.

So everyone slowly shows up. Anywhere between like 6 and 8 pm seems appropriate, I guess. There's no order to it all.

Once everyone is there, and the food is ready, it's time to say grace. Which means there is the annual fight about who has to say grace. I lost, as always.

My dad's argument this year was "You host a daily 3 hour Catholic radio show!" So apparently I've become the go-to guy on all things grace. And not just a "Bless us, Lord and these thine gifts..." type of grace. My family expects GRACE.

But I expect quiet during grace. And unfortunately, with "A Christmas Story" still in the background, people's cellphones ringing and text messages arriving... good luck.

And now that I've got this radio show, my entire family is aware I'll be talking about these things on the show. So they want to be characters on the show. They're always asking things like, "Are you gonna bring this up? Is this material for the show?" Everyone is auditioning.

After dinner, I'm talking to a cousin about my computer. He's a big fan of computers, so I mentioned I had a problem with my laptop and went ot the apple store. But he was really bummed out when I said the words "apple store" – because someone stole his computer. He was with some friends, and 2 guys broke into the house, with ski masks, and a gun, and stole his computer. Is that not the most random Christmas story of all time!?

And then we do our annual tradition, which is to read The Gospel of Luke, Chapter 2:
In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that the whole world should be enrolled. This was the first enrollment, when Quirinius was governor of Syria. So all went to be enrolled, each to his own town. And Joseph too went up from Galilee from the town of Nazareth to Judea, to the city of David that is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David, to be enrolled with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. While they were there, the time came for her to have her child, and she gave birth to her firstborn son. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

Unfortunately we couldn't find a Bible. And after about 10 minutes of searching, my dad found an old 70's version, called THE WAY. And it had all these funky translations... like instead of swaddling clothes they had the Baby Jesus in polyester or something. It was a train wreck of a Bible.

We then sang some Christmas carols so out of tune that 2 of my cousins recorded it on their cellphones for posterity. It will probably end up as an embarrassing YouTube video soon.

Nonetheless, it was Christmas. And however you celebrated it, or whatever awkwardness came along with it, it's all about the birth of Christ. God made man for our salvation. So it's always a Merry Christmas!

And a Merry Christmas to you, as well.

A random thought for the holidays...

I'm hosting a 3 hour radio show. And the beauty of satellite radio (for the audience) is that there are very few breaks. But the negative of satellite radio (for the host) is that there are very few breaks.

Thus, there's no time for me to get out of the studio. So the bathroom break before the show begins is awfully important.

So a few days ago, I'm using the facilities. And I'm washing my hands - as I'm wont to do. Not just because I'm an enormous germophobe (which I am), but because it seems like a courteous thing to do.

As I'm washing my aforementioned hands, I see a guy come out of the stall and make a b-line for the door. Sans washing hands. (For those who don't speak French, that means without washing hands...)

I'm like, you've gotta be kidding me! I'm still rinsing here, and this guy's grabbing the door handle. So I have no choice but to dart towards the door, as well. I get my foot in there just in time, and am able to use my considerable soccer skills honed when I was a youth and was able to flick the door open without touching the handle.

Job well done, Lino. I'd pat my self on the back but my hands are wet.

Just as I leave the restroom, however, I see a woman I know who gives me a high five. So my wet, but clean, hand high fives her – and I can only imagine what shes thinking at this point. She sees me leave the bathroom and greet her with a wet hand. I didn't have time to explain; and she seemed too disturbed to wait for an explanation. So we just moved on.

But for the guy who didn't wash his hands, I must ask: Where's common decency?

Leaving the bathroom without washing your hands is, I would argue, morally wrong. And it gets us to that Biblical question: am I my brother's keeper? Yes, I am.

How about another Bible quote: Do unto others.

How many other quotes from the Bible would I need to get my point across?

And though its not explicitly stated in the Bible, or even the Catechism, I would argue God is a big fan of us washing our hands.

Sometimes we get bummed out by all the "rules" and "commandments" God asks/commands us to follow. But if you think about it, they're always there because He's looking out for us.

So for the love of God (literally), please keep your hands clean. Us germophobes thank you.