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10/22/02 Out Of The Frying Pan Out of the frying pan, into the fire Hey It's 2 something am in the morning, what's the damn deal, it's time for all good little Death Falcon's to be in their beds. Well, first off, I ain't good, and second off, I ain't little, so that settles that. Sorry for being such a punk ass lately, I'm trying to come out of it. No more whining about the girls leaving, whatever happens is whatever happens, either they're happy living away, which is a good thing, or they'll come back here, which is a good thing, so fuck it, I'm not sweating it anymore (he says). At least I'm not sweating it HARD. Got out over the weekend, which was also a good thing (got out last weekend, I know, this was different). Sitting home alone too much leads to brooding, which leads to trouble. Went up to Geri and Steve's Friday night, picked up my Italian bottle of limoncello (cheers, guys), whoa, it looks so sweet, but it tastes like what it is, lemon flavored grain alcohol, sort of an Italian Lemon Jesus (one of the most disgusting things I've ever seen in my life was at Marshall, this girl threw up in a trash can full of Purple Jesus, people kept drinking out of it anyway, until it was empty- not yours truly, thank you). Drank some Peroni (Italian beer) and Pilsner Urquell (Czech beer), both quite good, I actually liked the Peroni better, a good green bottle beer, up there close to Heineken, which is sort of a trendy-preppy brew, but I still think it's a damn good beer (my dad talks about when he was in Bermuda with the A.A.C., Heinies were a quarter a piece). Also picked up some videos, Attack Of The Crab Monsters, The Crawling Eye, Target Earth, The Old Dark House, and Kiss Me Deadly. Great, great stuff, I'm telling you. Also nice to spend time with Geri and Steve, they're good people. Had a Movie Club at Doug and Rosa's Saturday night, those are always a blast (although Doug, whatever you were drinking that night, dude, don't drink it again, Jesus), best movie of the night far and away was Wrestling Women Vs. The Aztec Mummy (I have my own copy, of course), drank some Labatt's Blue that I brought, plus a couple of Chris's sampler pack (ah, Doug, dammit, we forgot to get into your home brew), a Strawberry Blond beer that I personally thought sucked like hell, I hate fruit in my fucking beer. I've had lemon, orange, cranberry, raspberry, and now strawberry beers, and I can honestly say I'd rather drink my own piss. And have done, more than once. I just can't go sweet with my alcohol. I can drink nasty tasting shit like whiskey and gin and tequila, straight, with a beer chaser, all fucking night and never flinch, but give me a couple sweet rummy drinks, or a bourbon and coke, and we're going to Puke City (two hurls for every boy, goddamn, I kill me). Chris did say as we were leaving I'd been far too detached for a Movie Club, and he's right. I started off strong but faded really fast, I've just been in this damnable funk for the past couple weeks, and Movie Clubs kind of get the memories flowing anyway, but like I said earlier, I think I'm shaking it off. For now, till the next time, you know how it is. Went over to DF Sean's house Sunday night for the WWE pay per view, it sucked, as I knew it would, but I still had a hell of a good time, he had a bunch of his crazed wrestling fan buddies there, as well as a couple guys from karate I hadn't seen for a while, and we all got DESTROYED on Welfare Light, then had our own wrestling matches till way into the night, it was a mess (I spent the night, so no drunk driving rap on Bill). Sean, who has his damn nerve telling me not to do crazy shit, speared this guy right through the damn wall- Mary, Mrs. DF Sean, was not amused, actually, neither was Robert, the speared, he left right after, in a snit, hey, if you can't take it, GET OUTTA THE FUCKING RING, or living room, whatever- and I put the Oxygen Destroyer on Sean's backdoor neighbor, this kid about 20, who has CEREBRAL PALSY, shit, I didn't know, he never got out of his chair, I just thought he had a speech impediment, and when I clamped down and he started spazzing I thought he was just, I don't know, selling the hold or something. Give him credit, he was a damn good sport about it once we brought him back around. Mary smacked the back of my head though and asked me what the hell was wrong with me, choking out the handicapped (yeah, well if you think about it, who better . . . never mind). Thank God I didn't give him the Falcon Arrow. Other than totaling Sean's house, as I've mentioned, we had one hell of a time. Sean got all drunk and maudlin talking about Sarah and Rachel, went on about how sweet they were and how much he loved them, that kind of stuff really gets to me, I am so damn lucky to have the kids I do, and it makes me feel damn proud when people like Sean tell me how much the girls mean to them. Makes me sort of sorry we wrecked his house. This WWE soap opera skit/shit has even infected my beloved Lucha Libre, they had this weird ass shit this weekend where all the wrestlers had these unbelievable dream sequences where they all turned into monsters (Halloween driven, I presume), with all the production values of your average grade school play (hey, Horneto, quit eating the paste!). Unintentionally hilarious, but I hope it's not a trend. There's this rudo (half the reason I want to wrestle in Mexico is so I can be a RUDO, what a marvelous term) called Apollo Dantes- he's built more like Pee Wee Herman Dantes- who's going bald, so he's taken to drawing these black lines on his head, sort of like a magic marker comb over. THAT'S the sort of stuff I watch wrestling for, not bottom of the barrel horseshit like Kane drunk driving killed his girlfriend nonsense PUKE. FUCK the WWE and Vince McMahon, God bless it, I HATE 'em. Stopped back by the unemployment office last Tuesday, the bitch- and you folks know me, I don't use bitch as a synonym for female, this lady was a bitch- all but called me a liar when I said I didn't get notified in time to respond to her request for more information, then got hugely pissed when I told her I was appealing her decision. Man, before I was just like whatever, hope I get it, but if I don't, well, maybe I shouldn't, but now it's fucking personal. What's Bill drinking now? Just nice soothing green tea, fooled ya, I'll bet. Got stuff to do first thing this morning, or when the sun comes up, anyway, it's already been first thing this morning by me, so I figure at this point I'm just going to stay up, go do what I need to do, then come back here and go to sleep for a while. I'm going over to David's later this evening, gonna hang out there and spend the night, so we can get up early- what day would that be, Wednesday, I guess- and go trout fishing, can't fucking wait. Dave, if you haven't heard from me by about 7 pm call me, I could easily be here sound asleep, no kidding. Let me take you to the empty place, in my fire engine What's Bill listening to? How about The Pyramid Meets The Eye, it's this flat fucking awesome tribute album- normally I hate 'em, but this one fucking rules- to Roky Erikson. Just an excellent combination of great songs, great bands (some of my favorites I doubt you've heard of, but ZZ Top, for instance, does a ripping take on "Reverberation") doing great versions. Great. I could go on for thousands of words about Roky, and may at some point, but for now let me say he's an icon in this house, fucking LOVE his stuff, Tang Spoons played him every night we played, used to run The Seeds "No Escape" into Roky's "I Walked With A Zombie", an inspired pairing I always thought, and the whole band just used to fucking breathe fire on "Don't Slander Me", one of Loretta's best vocals, mean and venomous as hell ("Don't slander me, my my my/Don't slander me, Bill"). Sarah used to go through the house as a toddler singing his songs, flipped out her maternal grandmother singing "Two Headed Dog" ("I been working in the Kremlin with a two headed dog") at maybe the age of three, she used to write him fan letters, they were a hoot, in fact I still have them here in a folder somewhere- I'm back, I found 'em, gonna include them as this issue's scan ins, oh my God, they're priceless. I've scanned them in in chronological order, she wrote/typed them entirely herself.
We can slip behind the human race in my fire engine That's an erotic song, children. Works my shit up, anyway. My dad's wanting very badly for me to take him back to Martinsburg, we're down now for the long weekend of Thursday, November 7, through that Monday. Saints preserve us. I could get in touch with John and wrestle in Hagerstown that Thursday night, I'm certain, they run shows every Thursday, and I'm sure I'd be welcome, even as a drop in, though it'd be better if I let him know in advance, and if I'm going to be that close, you damn well better believe I'm stopping by Shepherdstown to see Staci. Wondering how to do all this stuff behind my dad's back, starting to think why bother, just let him in on it. Staci can be my ring girl, lead me to the ring on a dog collar and chain (I LIKE it), my dad can be there as my (not faking it) crazy bad guy manager. I'm sure that'd be a disaster, I can see my dad getting carried away and steel chairing everybody in the place, including probably me first- and then leaving with Staci. I'll figure something out. Now I'm listening to H. P. Zinker, Beyond It All, with the immortal Hans Platzgummer on guitar and vocals. This is also some sincerely good shit, this is from '90, but it sounds like early 70's heavy/psych stuff like I love. Got some comments this past week from the peanut gallery regarding last issue, to touch briefly on some of the topics raised (ain't nothing like sex to get 'em stirred up, I swear, even better than blood) I hardly feel like I need to justify my actions, and I thought I showed a lot of restraint last issue by not going into a detailed blow by blow, so to speak, account, and yeah, I'll admit alternative girl is not much of an intellect, which is fine, I wasn't looking for any fucking pillow talk anyway, but once you get past the black lipstick (which actually leaves interesting designs on a body, I got up the next morning looking like a leopard, with all these black rosettes on me, I thought it looked fucking sexy as shit) and the multicolored pubic hair (no, I'm not kidding) and all the weird ass piercings, she's a good looking girl, built like a damn brick, and no, I hardly think two one nighters in the 10 months I've been doing this thing qualifies me for a fucking hound. And I am definitely sending away for some Japanese condoms. Can't sleep (no shit) so I wrote another essay tonight, gonna send it out with this, hope you like it, let me know (and yes, dammit, yes, I'm getting back to work on Drains, I'm driving my own self crazy, I'm getting back to work on it tomorrow if there's time, otherwise, when I get back from fishing, I'm finishing this damn book before I go back to work, I SWEAR, the end is so ungodly great, you're gonna love it). Hey, I'm going to the new Chinese place there by Sam's on the Corridor, which used to be the old Chinese place, before it became Nawab's, which it's not anymore, for lunch at noon on this Thursday (if I'm not like sleeping, or something). Any one that wants to show up, please feel free. At least one of ya's got to be there, cos someone needs to buy my fucking lunch. I'm serious. Later I More Cripple The Crippled Bill
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