On the release of his long-awaited autobiography Let Me Off At The Top: My Classy Life and Other Musings, Ron Burgundy shares some of his greatest wisdom.
First of all I'd like to dispel the most popular myths about my hair. Myth number 1: My hair is called Andros Papanakas. It is not. I have no name for my hair.
My father Claude Burgundy was a natural-born News Anchor, as was his father and his father before him. Of course, there was no television or radio station in Hagglewsorth, Iowa.
Some men are blessed with extraordinary length but not much girth. Others have been awarded great girth but less length, and then there are a select few who are granted the whole wonderful package, girth and length. I'm one of those guys who just got the girth.
I think in a past life I was maybe a baron or possibly an earl and that I had many lands and great wealth and an eye patch. I was known throughout the land as a generous landowner but ruthless when I had to be.
Women love to talk. You don't have to listen but you do have to let them talk and believe me they will yammer on like howler monkeys. Pretend you are interested if you can.
I knew from an early age that I would be a News Anchor. I had great hair, for one, which is 70 percent of the job. I also had the pipes. I was blessed with my father's golden tones and melodious speaking voice.
I'll tell you this. If you want to get to know a man, I mean really get to know him, go jackalope hunting with him.
Our babies have gotten uglier. I don't know why this is but you can't deny it's happening. Is it inbreeding? Is it high levels of newfangled foodstuffs like yogurt and lettuce? Who knows. There is just no answer out there, but look around, babies are not cute anymore.
I have over 300 handcrafted shoes of all sizes. I don't give a damn about broccoli. I believe every man has the right to self-pleasure.
Imagine sitting in an airport lobby for three days. The only food you can eat is raw potatoes and water. The whole time you're being forced to listen to babies crying and the hits of Sha Na Na. This is the kind of insufferable boredom one feels the moment you enter Canada.
The perfect weatherman must be nice. Should carry lunch in a kid's lunch box. Should live with his mother. Remembers the birthday of everyone he's met.
Hot breath on a woman's neck and face is an aphrodisiac. That's a scientific fact that researchers have proven - not that I needed some Murgatroyd in a lab coat to tell me that a hot, humid whisper delivered inches from a woman you've just met in an elevator or on a buffet line can often seal the deal without the usual handwork.
We need greater study in this area but I'm willing to concede that women should be allowed in the workplace alongside men.
I am in awe of the eagle and I believe one day when the skies fall and great chasms of doom open up to swallow mankind, it will be the eagle that rescues and guides those of us worthy (that would be me and my news team for sure) into the next land.
Let Me Off At The Top!: My Classy Life and Other Musings by Ron Burgundy is published by Century, £16.99. Available at all good book shops now. No, really!