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10/25/07 Get Out Of Denver
Get out of Denver, baby . . . Hey Well, me and the bastard Death Falcon are finally back home, I got back from Colorado (where I'd like to tell you there are neither fish nor virgins left, but alas, in truth I can't, some of the fish do have sore lips, and at least one big cutthroat is probably sore all over, sadly, none of the virgins are sore anywhere, more's the damn pity) last Thursday around noon after a straight 26 hours drive/ride back from Denver, to sleep most of that day and then get up Friday morning to take Aline back to South Carolina, to get back in here Sunday evening and pretty much go straight to sleep, to get up Monday morning and head down to Al's, to get back this morning (Wednesday, although I'm sure it'll be Thursday before this goes out), so today is the first day I feel like I'm actually back home, such as it is- my home, I mean. We'll do the blow by blow "Scourge Of Colorado" next issue, but I have to caution you, if you're looking for sex and violence you may be a bit discouraged, being the SOC is not the same thing as being The Baddest Motherfucker In Prague or The Scourge Of Africa, this trip was all about rest and relaxation- (I FIND SEX AND VIOLENCE RELAXING) -well, me too, if truth be told, but it's not the only way to relax. So . . . Came back to a pretty full mail bag, lot of people wishing me a nice trip, thank you, sincerely, it was. I'd written my pal Valerie from New Mexico (from Johnny Boy, you remember) cos I told her I'd let her know when I went West. She wasn't able to join me in Colorado for some sweet and sour pork, even though NM is just below CO, she did ask for the link to the NL site- foolish child, although actually she'd asked once before and I'd forgotten to send it- and apparently spent WAY too much time the past few weeks reading back issues, ths shit will warp your mind, darling, for real, she wrote me a big long fan letter, which we all know I'm a sucker for, only thing I'm going to quote is when she said "I love your pessimistic arrogance" cos it's a nice turn of phrase, beside hitting the nail right on the head. Pessimistic Arrogance, I like that. Oh yeah, she also said DFZ should have played Marv in Sin City- (ABSOLUTELY) -you're a comics/noir chick, dear, write us a part like Marv's and we'll be there, pork in hand. (DOUBLE ABSOLUTELY)
I'm not thrilled with some of the things that have been done in this country's, and therefor in my, name, and I'm on record as thinking our current President is an ill natured numbfuck moron of catastrophic proportion, (I voted for DFZ the last two elections) but this guy Mark being ashamed/embarrassed about being an American? What an idiot. Read a goddamn history book, brother, and get a fucking clue.
Sarah's had semester break this past week, so she went to Spain (God have mercy, I know). I heard from her a few days ago when she'd just gotten there, Madrid, which she loved, I liked Spain a lot as well, she was going from there to Toledo (I got a sword there in '72), then Saville (where I hear you can get a nice haircut, I wasn't into haircuts in '72), somewhere else in Spain- I'm too lazy to pull up her e-mail and check it, so sue me, then on to, give me a fucking break, Rome. I guess Monaco is just too crowded this time of year. Can anyone else say jet fucking set? She'll be so damn worldy when she gets back we won't know her, "Hey, who's that?', "I don't know". As for the other fruit of my loins (this one's a pineapple), she came in last Friday to Athens (WV, not Greece, I can see how you might wonder) to check out the campus/program of Concord College, excuse me, it's University now, then she, Loretta and Paul stopped at Tamarack on their way back to Baltimore (without stopping in to see Loretta's Mom. no further comment) so Rachie could vist for an hour or so with me, as well as her Grandma and Aline (we were on our way to Rock Hill). Both Rachel and her Mom were more impressed with the school and curriculum than either expected, but I still doubt if Rachel ends up going there, Loretta kind of turned up her nose at their student body, "It doesn't seem very diverse to me", she sniffed, what, Ms. all of a sudden Rainbow Coalition, they're all white hillbillies. is that what you're trying to say? So the fuck what, that seems a goddamn stupid, not to mention prejudicial in it's own way, reason not to consider a school, but whatever. Not that I'm taking shots at Loretta just to take them, we've finally laid the past to rest, both of us, cooperatively, if you can believe it, and definitively, I no longer wish Loretta the slow and agonizing death I once quite honestly did- there was a time I wasn't that far from inflicting it, believe it, I was gonna shotgun her legs off at the knees and piss in her face as she died- I mostly now don't give a shit either way, for real, feels good, too, but she still does a number of things currently that I don't agree with and I'm not going to keep my fucking mouth shut about it just for the sake of "getting along". As I think is obvious to any and all reading this, getting along, period, with anyone, has never been all that important to me. Still, I take no pleasure (I wouldn't believe me either, but it's true, ask Mothman) in reporting that Loretta wasn't wearing the bulk concealing clothes she'd been in the last few times she was here, but instead a sweater and jeans, and she did not look good at all, even as nice a person as Aline was moved to remark, unprompted, about how heavy Loretta had gotten. It's all relative, I know, there are women out there who would still kill to look as good as Loretta does now, and never will, but when I compare it to how well she used to be built, I don't gloat, but it does make me sort of sad. Purely in an aesthetic sense, the way I would feel about any person I knew, male or female, who used to have a truly killer body, and who let themselves go to hell. Seriously. (I BELIEVE YOU) That makes one. Speaking of weight, I ate great out West, Jean is a purely excellent cook, and I ate like a pig in South Carolina- and have lost nine pounds since the first of the month, from 224 down to 215. Everyone else in America wants to lose weight, I don't, so naturally, I do, 224 is unnaturally bulky for me, cos of my slender frame, as we've oft discussed in here before, it's really hard for me to carry that much weight, I'd been pounding fuck out of the heavy weights the past couple months and had gotten some bulk, but as soon as I quit, I mean as SOON as I quit, I start dropping weight. The heavy lifitng is all DFZ-centric, and most of that is cosmetic, yeah, the extra beef helps with some of the harder slams and suplexes, especially on the bigger (250+) guys, but mostly it's just muscle for show, once I qut wrestling I'm going off the heavy lifting entirely and forever, as long as I'm strong and fit I don't care if I weigh 180, or 150 for that matter. (OUR DICK ALONE WEIGHS 150). Your dick, maybe. Raxhel and I had a good vist, she's looking REALLY good, and she was being her sweet and bubbly self (the bubbly may have been in part due to the big thing of ice cream I bought her), and she brought me this neat shirt I'm going to wear to Movie Club this weekend, but she also pissed the fuck out of me and I'm going to bust her in print. She got her damn tongue pierced. That's not why I'm mad, fuck me, it's her tongue, (and she'll be a legal adult in about three weeks, God HELP us, she was just a baby last week, Superman, get me out of this time warp NOW) even though I'm mucho against tongue piercings, I just don't think drilling a hole through your tongue is a healthy or smart thing to do- and we all know what I do to MYSELF. No, why I'm pissed is because when we discussed the matter this summer, Rachel said she was going to wait until after her 18th birthday- no way was Loretta going to sign for her to have it done before then, good for her, credit where it's due- and maybe not even have it done then. My final words on the subject were, "Well, whatever you do, don't go sneaking off behind your Mother's, and by extension, my, back, and have it done" and she told me, all big eyes and innocence, "Oh, no Daddy, don't worry, I won't do that, you have my word." And then she snuck off behind Loretta's, and agan my, even though I'm many (many) miles away, back, and got her damn tongue pierced. And once again, that makes every hair on my ass just stand straight the fuck up. I don't mind when the average person lies to me, in fact I pretty much expect it, but, as I hope you can understand, especially given my history, it absolutely infuriates me to have someone whom I trust and love look me dead bang in the eyes, swear to me, give me their word, whatever, that they're not going to do something- then go right the fuck out and do it. Makes me fucking MAD, it does, crazy mad, for real. Tell me "I'm gonna do what the fuck I want, so there", I don't care, just don't goddamn LIE TO ME. Cos I trust practically no one as it is, and those few that I do are the people who keep burning me. Rachie and I are fine now, and I'm not meaning to make her pay for the sins of her mother- (YEAH, JUST A FEW PARAGRAPHS BACK I THOUGHT YOU WERE PREACHIN' YOU WERE OVER THAT SHIT) Fuck, man, I AM over that shit, this is about today. It's like this, say someone hits you in the goddamn nuts for ten years with a baseball bat. Then they go away, but if years later someone else shows up with a baseball bat, you're not gonna be happy to see 'em, are you?
That's all that matters. I thought beng away from my Mom for ten days would help, but it really hasn't. When I got back from Colorado the other morning, I'm coming in the door, let me repeat that with emphasis, I'm coming IN THE DOOR, and before she says hello, before she says welcome back or how was your trip or fuck you two times sideways, she starts in on me, "Bill, that Mike from wrestlng called while you were gone, you need to call him back, and some person called Viper wants you to call him, and I'm out of milk . . . " Give me strength. A conversation between my Mom and Aline in Rock Hill, while they're watching a football game. This is verbatim. Aline: Is Louisville or Conneticutt supposed to be better? Aline just shook her head and quit trying. In the kitchen a few minutes later while I was makng myself a gigantic pimento cheese sandwich (ike I said, I ate like a pig down there) Aline came in to get a drink and I told her "Louisville's better" (even though they ended up losing on as big a cheat play as I've ever seen in college football, or football period, for that matter), she said, "I'm not as excitable as you-" (WHO IS?) -but that was getting on my nerves". Welcome to my world. One last example. This aftenoon I got out of the shower, walk in her room and ask- Bill: Is that today's paper? Maybe it's just me, excitable as I am, maybe a response like that wouldn't bother you, but that is exactly the kind of shit that is destroying my brain. This time, instead of just walking away like I normally would, I ask her- B: Did you understand what I just asked you? I'm expecting to get her typical "does not compute" look of total blankness, but instead, after a little cogitation- M: You asked if this was today's paper NOW I get the "does not compute" look and it holds till I admit defeat and walk away. Let's go on to Al now, even though he's not in chronological order (or "chrinoligila" first draft). Al: The leaves are changing. That's the Al I love. Got there the other morning, Phyllis was on the phone with (I guess) a telemarketer, she was telling them, "No, he cain' do nothin' like dat, he ain't right in the head brain" which, besides proving her to a be mistress of understatement- "ain't right in the head brain" barely touches Al's condition- also begs the question, how is he in the foot brain, not to mention the ass brain? (NOT RIGHT, WOULD BE MY GUESS) And a good guess it would be. Went back to court with Robby again Monday morning, even though realistically there wasn't a damn thing I could do for him, this was his final hearing on what I now feel okay with saying was a DUI w/ injury, he got way drunk the very same night I scooped former Bunny Christine out from under his sorry ass and took her back to Al's, ran a stop light and t-boned this lady and broke her leg, they let him plead no contest to plain DUI- he is one lucky son of a bitch Charlie Hatcher was his attorney and called in some favors for him, the cops had a huge hardon for Robby and I don't blame them, beside the fact that he was guilty as fuck, he was such a total dickweed when the cops showed up they had to call in the shift commander to cover their asses- "Police brutality, I'm gonna sue!"- and ALL these cops were there on Monday looking to bury his ass. But Charlie got them all to roll over, and Robby walked away with less than he deserved. While we're waiting for Robby's hearing ths guy comes up for brandishing, tells a vey good story to my ear, these two guys jumped hm, brothers of this guy who died from an oxycontin overdose, "they was gonna kill me Judge cos they said I was the one sold 'em to him, but I never sold him shit- sorry- he stole 'em" this guy pulls out a knife to keep the two pissed of bros from crushing his skull, self defense as fuck as far I can see- no one contradicted his version of events- but he was convicted anyway, too bad for him he didn't have $3500 to hire Charlie Hatcher. Mister Brandish did not take hs conviction well (nor should he have, dammit, I HATE the goddamn "justice" system {although I love the Justice Machine})- "They oughta call this the goddamn house of doom, cos that's what it is. It's not the court house, it's the damn DOOM HOUSE. You know why?" I do know why, but tell me anyway, brother. "Cos if you come in here with no money, you're DOOMED!" Amen. I'm no populist motherfucker, anything but, but still . . . amen. As they took him off in cuffs he kept hollerng "DOOM HOUSE! DOOM HOUSE!" I have to say, I admired him. Do not go gentle into that good jail. That night Robby, Al and I went to the VFW (Al was in good mode, alert as he gets, pretty continent, I let him decide, "Al, you wanna go to the VFW and get a beer, or you want to stay here and watch TV?", "Hell, let's go drink a beer, what's the point in stayng here and watchng TV?", gotcha, and done). I'd called Nikki- I hadn't gotten to see her, metaphorically or otherwise, between last NL and going West, I'd picked her up a little token of my esteem while I wa gone, wanted to give it to her- yeah, okay and I also wanted to GIVE IT TO HER- she had to work but said she could meet us there for little while. To digress a moment, I got some letters since last issue, as well as having some personal conversations on the subject, asking how I could let this Nikki thing get away from me like I have. It was easy, really, and easy to explain. For one, she really is cute as a damn bug. For two, she has a surprisingly bright and engagng personality. For three, as I've said in here many times before, a person's attractiveness increases exponentially by how attracted they are to you, and she's easily as hooked on me as I am on her, if not more so, and for four, I've been lonely for a long, long time. We now return you to your regualry scheduled program. Nikki showed up, greeted me with an enthusiastic hug and a little kissy on the lips- actually, more like a big damn kissy, with some fairly serious tongue- I notice Robby looking at us funny, I figure he's just jealous, as well he should be, she and I stayed pretty engaged in the bar, although not to the point of neglecting Al- she thought Al was cute, yeah, right, let him dip his hand into his Depends and fling his poo at you like some wizened old albino chimpanzee, let's see how cute you find that. I walk her to her car, and give her her present, in addition I also give her a bottle of wine I got out West, which I thought was a semi romantic gift without being over the top, particularly for her, cos she's wanting to get to know and appreciate wine, and I was right, she liked it a lot and said, "We'll drink this together the next time you're over, okay?" Okay? Fuck me . . . .better than okay. Another thing I like about Nikki, while we're on the suibject, is that
she calls me "Honey" as a term of endearment, I like that lot,
like the very 50's-ish Ward and June feel of it, in all my years I've
never been called "honey" by one of my sweeties, "heinie",
sometimes, mostly they've just called me "Master"- (BATOR) -cute, anyway, that whole "honey", "hon", thing . . . I like it. Once I get back insiide, Robby is like, "Bill, your business is your busness, but do you really think you should be kissing your daugher like that in public?" Oh, fucking YUCK, Robby, ya damn maroon. "She's not my daughter, you fucking mental defective, shes my . . . girlfriend." And I guess she is (and boy, was Robby relieved). So I guess the next step I need to take is to introduce her to my family, i.e. the Movie Club. I'm more than a bit trepidacious- she's got edge, my baby, Danny doesn't like her at all, says she's got "attitude", and she does, but I've never gone for the wallflower type, ever, and I'm not taking sides- that bros vs. ho's shit is about as juvenile as it gets- but I do understand why she doesn't respect him as a wrestler. And why that pisses him off. Not this MC, maybe next . . . but guys, to put this in perspective, if and when you meet her . . . she's younger than Spinal Tap. Younger than Spinal Tap. Nuff said. Man. I still have tons of stuff to go in this issue, but I'm just too tired. I'll do another issue this Sunday, plus the SOC. Till then . . . How are spinach and anal sex alike? Later Bill
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In more "Be A Bitner And See The World" news, jeez, where do
I start? Sarah's been blitzing all over the UK on the weekends, been to
Canterbury, also London a couple of times (her take, it's nice but
overrated- not sure I agree, but then agan, it's been a long time since
I've been there), she sent some photos of Wroxton (which when I say it, I
always make that goofy Ronnie James Dio devil horns sign, I don't know
why- WROXTON!), 
Still, we were talking about my baby, and even trying to avoid trouble
(that's a good girl, and WHAT'S your last name again?) some girl started
shoving Sarah on the Metro, unprovoked, until Sarah finally shoved her
back, hard, and knocked her onto her punk Gallic ass, and Miss Froggie
decided to take her act elsewhere. That's the Bitner way, sweetie. Next
time break the gear shift out of their 1974 Dodge Colt and beat their
goddamn brains out with it. That's even more the Bitner way.
(THAT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE . . . BUT I UNDERSTAND IT).
