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10/27/09 Live At The Witch Trials
What's that coming over the hill Hey Nah, its just another NL. Thought about doing one sober, then figured what was the fun, not to mention the point, in that? Right off the bat, I promise not to end this NL with another "goddamn motherfucking computer bitch" rant, no matter how things turn out. In the interest of fairness- and I am nothing if not utterly fair- last issue's problems, and maybe some of the ones before, may well have resulted from my progrssively drunken ham fisted pounding on the keyboard as these things unfold. Last issue this big yellow triangle warning sign- big exclamation point, with WARNING underneath- kept popping up toward the end, but would I heed it no, warned Bill refused to be. Mostly cos I couldn't figure out what it was warning me OF. "Bill's at the computer?" Hell, I already knew that. (MAYBE IT WAS TRYING TO WARN ITSELF) Makes more sense, cos there's sure as hell no point in warning me. About anything. Anyway, though I'm well known, infamous you might say for, as was said of Charles Laughton, "throwing temperaments" both live and over the computer waves or whatever these things are, there'll be none tonight. (YEAH, I'LL BELIEVE THAT WHEN . . . I CAN'T EVEN THINK OF ANYTHING IMPROBABLE ENOUGH) Also think I'll forego any mention of the ex's anatomy in this issue. (WHAT I SAID ABOVE) So, what's Bill been up to? Since I've been at the scrapyard far too much lately, here, for the first time anywhere, we present Bill's Work Day. I get up at 7:20. That's when I set the alarm and that's when I get up- this snooze button shite is not for me (Loretta and I fought over this for 25 years, she used to like to set the alarm half an hour before she/we had to get up and then hit the snooze button over and over till then- madness). Why the fuck you'd want to wake up earlier than you have to and then lay there knowing you can't go back to sleep is beyond me. First up I take a shower. I'm already clean (I'm always clean) cos I take a shower every afternoon after I work out, this one is to wake up. Drink a protein drink for breakfast- skim milk with a scoop of vanilla whey protein powder, in the afternoon I add a banana or some pineapple or something, but being the good son I am I don't want to run the blender in the morning and wake my Mom up. (YOU JUST DON'T WANT TO DEAL WITH YOUR MOM THAT EARLY) Sure don't. Then I brush my teefers, lace up my reading boots, grab my stack of books and notebooks and it's out the door, like the little schoolboy I am in Ray Davies dreams. I used to drop my morning deposit at the house, but I liked the idea of getting paid for it, so now I wait until I get to work. Also it lets me sleep later. Once I deal with the traffic backed up there at Cross Lanes Elementary- if there's a kid who walks to that school I've never seen them, fucking weenies, or more likely it's the parents who are the weenies- it's an easy 2- count 'em, 2- mile drive to the yard. What's your commute like? I always get there before Nancy, so I sit and read- may as well get warmed up, don't want to pull (let me rephrase that, don't want to injure) anything later- the 10-15 minutes it takes for her to get there. Once she rolls up to the gate there it's the same every day. I get out of my car, she hands me the key- Nancy: Good morning, Bill. -I unlock the big padlock, pull the chain through on the left side, give the right gate a big push and walk the left side back, give Nancy back the key- N: Thanks. -and then pull onto the yard and into my spot (marked Visitor, which aptly reflects my level of commitment). Once inside I open the blinds in Phil's office (first door on the right), open them in the main room, turn on the lights, Nancy gives me the key to the shed, I go out and unlock the padlock on it, pull back the four big bolts, swing the doors open and we're ready for business. Such as it is. First thing I weigh in every morning is Bill, with boots and jacket he runs about 230, which is right where he wants to be. Solid. Then I return to the building and give Nancy back the key (God knows I don't want it), she asks me if I think the big scale needs swept off, I always say "No" (cos I dont), she makes that disappointed Marge Simpson "Mmmm" sound and goes into her office. I make a cup of tea, and while it cools take my (paid) morning bathroom break in what I like to refer to as my office. I usually spend about half an hour at it, and what I do in there is my business. At first Nancy used to come around, "You asleep in there?"- about half the time I was- but she doesn't bother me anymore. (WHAT'S THE POINT?) Exactly. Sometime- rarely, but sometime- a customer will come by when I'm taking my morning break and I'll get pissed off. At 8:30 Ronnie comes in for his morning pot- not cup- of coffee, so at that point I emerge from my office cos I dont want to miss the morning entertainment. Lately Ronnie- I swear, the man has a brain that could dance on the head of a pin- has been all worked up over "the flyin' flu"- that one even cracked up Nancy's sour puss. I think part of his manic craziness may be due to his coffee intake, he drinks a pot at his house before he leaves then makes another and puts it in his thermos- "I make mine with five scoopers of coffee" he told me once, "Fuck Ronnie, why don't you just eat the coffee and not bother with the water," "Can you do that?" he asked. "Don't see why not," I told him. Don't know if he took my suggestion or not, haven't noticed any grounds between his teeth but then I try not to look at him that close. When he comes in at 8:30 he just chugs that pot that Nancy makes for him in the morning, sounds like a mule at the watering trough. Nancy asked him a while back why he drank it so damn fast, he bugs his googley eyes out even further than normal and goes, "Cos I need me some BOOSTER POWER!" That nut job needs more booster power like I need more hair on my hard and manly ass. Sometime- rarely, but sometime- a customer will come in while I'm enjoying my morning entertainment and I'll get pissed off. Ronnie goes out about 9 am and I go back to the kitchen to drink tea and read until 10 am. Sometime- rarely, but sometime- do I even need to finish? At 10 am every day Nancy leaves for the post office and again its always the same. I hear her close and lock her office door, then it's- N: Goin' to the PO, Bill. Then it's time for Bill's morning exercise break. I wait till Nancy leaves cos she still sometmes gets a little crusty when I exercise on her time, I have no idea why that's worse than reading, truly. I don't do much, 100 Hindu squats, 100 push ups (2 sets of 50) and then (this is what usually sets her off) I post between the counter and the scale desk and do 50 dips (2 sets of 25). Sometimes a customer comes by during Bill's morning exercise break and I get REALLY pissed. Next it's time for brunch, just a bowl of oatmeal (Chris will have a conniption but I can't help it, Bill needs his fiber) with butter and salt. By then it's about 10:30 and Nancy is back from the PO. I read and write till 12:30- sometime, etc- when Nancy leaves for lunch and Bill has his. I eat the same lunch every day, and no, I don't get tired of it. Two cans of water pack tuna out of the can, some carrots, some almonds (Blue Diamond whole natural in the 1 pound value pack are your best buy) and an apple. I also get very resentful if some fucker wants to sell some scrap while I'm eating lunch, threw an apple core at this guy once. He hasn't been back. At 1 pm (unless it's raining, in which case I resume reading) it's time for Bill's afternoon constitutional. I go out and walk the yard from the front gate to the shed- that's the only area OSHA says I can walk- back and forth, around and around, for anywhere from a half, to one hour, and again, no I don't get bored. I find it relaxing, sometimes I almost fall asleep walking, seriously. And sometime- not often, but sometime . . . Usually about 2:30- sometime later, seldom sooner- Nancy decides to throw in the towel and we shut down. To start this whole futile process over again the next day, when again at 7:20 . . . (MAYBE IF SOME FUCKER WASN'T THROWING APPLE CORES) They should be thanking Jesus that's all I'm throwing. "For it is not an open enemy that has done me this dishonor . . .
What else has Bill been doing? Well, Loretta turned 50 last week and I called and wished her Happy Birthday. Sincerely. If you missed it, it was the exact same time that the sun turned into a turtle. Did lots more since last issue- one phone call was just the tip of the Bill iceberg- but this computer is starting to worry me, seriously. Don't think it's saving right, again, and I'm only nine beers in- got started at 2:30 this afternoon- not pounded at all yet. This time- if this is yet another "this time"- it's the fucking computer not me. Gonna move on. Christina: I bet you do push-ups every morning just to keep your
belly hard. What's Bill been reading? Lot of noir stuff. Go figure. Got some serious good writing news as well ($$$). Also got more computer worries. Again we're moving on. What's Bill been listening to? Still doing that laborious alphabet thing. See, that's one of the things that got me so pissed when the last part of last issue went awry- and if it does again this issue, ALL BETS ARE OFF- (TOLD YA) -cos I'd left off the WBBLT? part in DFZ VIP so it was a big damn list that vanished in the ether. And now I have to do it all again, bigger. So . . . Elvis Costello (4) Cowsills (1) Crabby Appleton (1) Cramps (3) Cream (3) CCR (4) Marshall Crenshaw (1)- forever associated with a wonderful drunken day at the beach in '86, when the rain came down in buckets and so did the beer- Cure (2) Cynics (2) Dick Dale (2) Damned (4) Miles Davis (1)- if Coltrane is blippity blip shit, this- Kind of Blue- is soporific, Bill simply does not get even "classic" jazz- DC3 (1), The Deep (1), Deep Purple (5)- forever associated with any number of wonderful drunken mornings the spring of '74 when I was supposed to be in class, best early '70's organ sound bar none, and lyrics like "I love her, I need her, I seed her," are undoubtedly sexist twaddle but they're also pretty fucking funny- Martin Denny (1) Derek And The Dominos (1) Descendents (1) Dictators (1) Bo Diddley (2) Dinosaur Jr (2). What's Bill drinking? Yuenglng, 11 down now, not sure how many to go (don't have to work tomorrow, so it's open ended as fuck). What's Bill been watching? Got a bunch of DVDs for .99 each (cos some new technology is making them obsolete no doubt, fuck you humans and your damnable so called "progess"), I've seen them all before but some not since I first watched them in my glorious youth, In the Year 2889, which looks a lot like the Year 1969, it's a Larry Buchanan remake of The Day the World Ended, no Touch Conners in this one but it does have stellar dialog like "That thing- that thing out there! It's got my baby! Get my special Luger!", and don't we all have a special Luger, really? Also Night Of the Blood Beast, Horror of Spider Island, Invasion of the Bee Girls- as for the last, QT would die trying to make a movie half this good, it's trashy exploitative nonsense, but it's excellent trashy explotative nonsense, it's got a clever script that doesn't rupture itself trying to be clever like QT does, lots of hot women (including Victoria Vetri, yum) who take off their clothes a lot, and all time NL fave William Smith in his 1973 prime- good stuff for real. And about a dozen others I haven't (re)watched yet. This computer has got me spooked. Normally I'd say fuck it and keep drinking and typing till wel after midnight cos God knows I've barely scratched the surface of what I was going to elucidate upon this issue, but I'm tired, oh so tired, of pouring my heart into these NLs only to have this infernal machine give me back nothing, so I'm going to wrap. The next sound you hear . . . Later Bill
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sleep light on these shores tonight 
