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11/19/03 Be Thankful It's A Man's World
Hey Safely back from my sojourn down South- we'll get to that later. I may get another one of these out before Thanksgiving, I don’t know, like I've mentioned, I'm not cranking these out at quite the rate I used to, but in case not, I'm again reminding you, I sincerely think you should take a minute that day and give thanks for what you've got. And again like last year, if you're having trouble thinking what to be thankful for- you shouldn't, but if you do- you can always say, "I'm thankful I'm not that stupid fuckhead Bill Bitner." Trust me, I won't be offended. Got on the computer last night and had an amazing 127 messages, after being gone only 5 days. Twelve were from real people, the rest were shit. That's messed up. As mentioned last issue, sweet little Rachel turned 14 Monday. Not so little anymore, still a sweet girl, though. Loretta got her a cell phone, which was cool, I guess, except it's for Rachel to use to keep in touch with Loretta, not me. Any calls back and forth to me are long distance. She got one for Sarah for her birthday as well, went ahead and gave it to her, the same deal. Jesus. Talked to both girls last night, they got their report cards, all A's and B's. That's Daddy's smart girls, and hard working girls, despite all the shit. God bless 'em. Loretta doesn't deserve them, swear to God. But she's got them, so fuck me, I guess. What's Bill drinking? Just green tea. Ate great down south, as anticipated, but one thing about Southern cooks, both home and away, is that they really lay on the salt, had a raging thirst the whole time I was down there, still really thirsty, gone through a half gallon jug of water in the day I've been back, just don't feel like getting on the beer right now. Listening to? An Uncut sampler, had it for a while and never really listened to it before cos I don't buy those mags to get the CD, in fact sometimes the CD will put me off the mag, didn't buy one a few months ago that had this good article on the psychedelic years of the Small Faces after they quit being Mods, but it came with this hip hop CD sampler, thank you, no. Bought a milky coffee type thing and sat there and drank it and read the article though.
Your right hand guy Doug said that there's a tomahawk (my dad would say tommyhawk) that looks a lot like my dream ax from last issue, sent me a connection to a picture of it, he's right, looks damn cool. He says he wants one. Doug, you're scaring me.
Also watched "Scary Movie 2", about as unfunny an attempt at a comedy as I've ever seen, it sucked horrifically, another one of those movies that make me furious thinking, "If I had a FRACTION of the money that was wasted making this piece of shit."
Also "The Getaway" by Jim Thompson, basis for the excellent Steve McQueen/Ali McGraw movie- never saw the Adam Baldwin/Kim Basinger remake- you should hunt down any Jim T. stuff you can find, the Kanawha County library has a couple of his works, great writer, bizarre plots and characters, and quite a real life character himself, hard living, hard drinking motherfucker, got his Robert Pollard biography, "Savage Art" many years ago, it’s a great read, RIP Jim. Also a couple more anthologies, one suspense, one mystery- where my writing is at right now- again pretty average, but again, you won't know unless you read them. Also, one of the best books in the world, "It's A Man's World"- took it 3 weeks to get here, it was mailed 10/28- this book is INSANE. How they were able to display some of this shit on the newsstand is beyond me- but they did, I remember gawping at them as a kid. It was another fucking world then. A MAN'S world, dammit. And a pretty damned dangerous one as well, as these titles will attest- flesh was always getting ripped, as in "Fearsome Fangs/Curved Beaks/Vampires/A Kodiak Bear/Weasels Ripped My Flesh", yeah, Zappa took that last one and a copycat illo as the title of an album, you could be "Ripped By The Fangs Of Mad Death" as well as "Ripped By The Mad Fangs Of Death" (they get you coming and going), guts were also a problem, as in "The Big Cat Clawed My Guts", "Twisted Horns Tore My Guts", "Rammed In The Guts And Dying", "He Wanted My Guts" and "My God, My Guts Are Coming Out" (boy, a nickel for every time I've said THAT), you could be eaten alive, "Eaten Alive By Killer Pigs", "Eaten Alive On A Bed Of Gold", "I Saw Them Eat Munoz" (WHO ate Munoz? Them.) "The Man Who Ate Himself" (ahem), "The Ants Ate Us Alive"- of course, how you wrote the article after being eaten alive would be beyond me, maybe ask the guy who wrote "A Cobra Killed Me". More? How about "The Moose Went Mad" (I hate when that happens) "Kicked To Hell By Mad Horses" (I REALLY hate when that happens) "A Lion Drank My Blood", "Cannibal Crabs Crawl And Kill", "Ambush Of The Blood Mad Tapirs" (tapirs?), "Spider Monkeys Tore Me Apart" (SPIDER MONKEYS?!) "Shredded To The Bone By The Beasts Of Horror", "Blind Date With Killer Claws", "I Battled The Suez Sea Beast" and "I Fought The Borneo Water Devil" (both by DF0), I Spoored The Temple Tiger (you WHAT?), "I Battled A Giant Otter" (giant OTTER, Jesus, you know, I could write one of these, "I Fought The Marsupial Of Doom"), "Blood, Booze And A Busted Boat (aka Bill And His Dad Go Fishing), and I think my favorite, "I Battled A Ton Of Turtle". Sometimes shit just happened, as in "His Head Was A Flaming Torch". Or you hung out with the wrong crowd- "I Was Flogged By Red Sadists." It wasn't all just death and destruction, they also gave helpful tips, both personal- "How to Fall 2500 Feet And Survive", "Poison In Your Pork" (help me)- and societal- "Let's Give Dope To Drug Addicts", "Birth Control Pills Can Ruin You". And just advice in general- "Claw Your Way to Hell With Your Own Hands". Okay, but WHY? On being manly- "How Masculine Are You?", "Are You Yellow?", "Get Off Your Butt And Be A Man", "You Don't Have To Be A Skinny Weakling", there's even this manly man test reproduced in here which you'll all have to take next movie club, it asks such questions as "Do you usually enjoy your meals?" and "Do you feel like jumping off when you are in a high place?" Yes, and yes. All manly men have to avoid those damn homos- "Are YOU a Homo?", even if not, "You Can Be Framed On A Homo Rap", I guess like "The Queer Ring That Rocked New York". Nymphos, on the other hand- "Are Nymphos Normal?" (WHO CARES?), "We Battled The Man Starved Nymphos Of Carumba" (I guess that would be Aye Carumba), "Nympho With A Ranch House" (that would be Paul- "I don't CARE if she's a nympho, what kind of house does she have? Oh yeah, and how's her credit?").
Are you a little kinky? (NO, LOTS!) That was a rhetorical question. Anyway- "I Bought A Slave Girl For $50" (WHERE?), "I Joined A Buck Naked Swap Club", and, be still my heart, "Women Who Wrestle For Fun". And one last title that I simply can't classify- "Belly Deep In Boneyheads". What a book. I guess it's about time to relate my Rock Hill trip. It's not going to get it's own NL cos it wasn't overly funny- my Dad wasn't feeling well, hasn't for a while, I've mentioned previously I think he's looking bad, well, it's getting worse as time goes on. He's still annoying as shit, if not more so, he's just not real funny at it. His 76th birthday is this Sunday, gonna take him and my mom out to eat at the new Red Lobster on Monday. Aline's son Tracy is still living there- I've compared him to Tina before and the comparison is still apt, he was supposed to move out of Aline's house the first of November, his shitting ass is still there, Tina is still at my mom and dad's by the way, even though she's renting a place up town- don't ask me. That means I was stuck sharing a bed with my Dad, which this time around, was just a total no go. He still farts like a madman- these things will knock you down at three paces- thrashes like he's being eaten alive by ants (or being attacked by homo nymphos) and snorts, and sniffs, and kicks- all in his fucking sleep. There's no possible way ANYONE, not just me, could sleep in the same bed as him- my mom gave it up a year or so ago, and I understand completely. As best I could, I slept on the couch. And I will be rolled and dipped in shit- I RE- refucked up my thumb, helping that shitting Tracy- you know, I never did much care for him, runt of the damn litter, he's this little ferretty looking fuck, looks a WHOLE lot like a younger version of former Tang Spoon Bobby Frontz, which certainly doesn't endear him to me, he's a thoughtless shit, well, not really, it's just that 99% of his thoughts are "what's good for Tracy," we clashed a little one night cos he'd gone in the kitchen at like 3 in the morning- I was still up, go figure- and fixed himself a bunch of stuff to eat and made this huge mess, I went in the kitchen later for some more water, came out and told him "you need to clean up your mess", he gave me this "who are you to tell me what to do, Mr. Guest in my mom's house?", and left the mess for his mom, little dick, anyway, he wanted me to help him move his john boat, which was also piled full of shit, around the side of the house, I said not today, so later Denise came in and sat down real close next to me on the couch- do not even try to tell me women don't know what they're doing when they do this, even if they're not conscious of it- and said, "Billy, would you help Tracy move-". "Sure". Well, I did, and picking the damn thing up pulled my thumb out again, even worse than that washer of Tina's. Shit. Keeping it wrapped real tight hoping it will set back up. We went to the Redskins/Panthers game Sunday, tailgated, good stuff, ribs and chicken, no beer (for me, there was plenty there) cos our seats were about a mile from the nearest bathroom. I got stuck sitting next to my Dad, of course, he can't take up just one seat no matter where he's at, he's all in my lap, he's also leaning on me, sometimes he's elbowing me in the side, sometimes he's elbowing me in the side while leaning on me- B: Get the fuck OFFA ME!
I was amusing myself unsuccessfully trying to spear one of the catfish when my Dad comes out. D: What are you doing? I'd no sooner handed the thing to him when this great huge catfish, the biggest one out there, came swimming right at my Dad- I think they were in cahoots- and, his harpooning blood up, he'd whipped the former net back and right into the side of my head. D: Get out of my way. I got so far out of his way, I went back in the house. M: What are you and your dad doing out there? I guess the most amusing incident had to do with Aline's neighbor, Zel (short for Zeldine- I think she's originally from Neptune). Her husband died a couple years ago, and now all she does is drink like a mother fucker and look out her window through her binoculars into all her neighbors houses. She hardly leaves her house, but calls Aline constantly- Z: When Bob left his house this morning, was he going to work, or someplace else? A: I don't know and I don't care. My dad can't stand her, calls her "that damn nosey rummy", and I think rum is her brainhammer of choice, whatever she drinks is sweet, and she always stinks of it. We went to The Friendly Café Friday for lunch, chili cheeseburgers, not particularly Southern, but this place has been making them since the Forties and they're fucking fantastic. They also have great, hand cut fries. My Dad and I were in one car, Aline and my mom in another, cos they were going to go shopping afterward. Aline invited Zel, who declined as expected, but asked if we'd bring her back a chili cheeseburger. I said I'd take it up to her- she lives above Aline on the lakeshore- since my Dad said he wouldn't. My Dad and I get back to Aline's, we're not out of the car when here comes Zel, weaving like shit on her golf cart, which she uses when she's too drunk to walk- seriously. I hand her her CCB and she walks on in Aline's house with it. Z: I just thought I'd have lunch with you boys. Well, she didn't have lunch with "you boys", she had lunch with me cos my Dad went in and watched TV, I sat with her at the kitchen table and zoned out as she prattled on about whoever the fuck she'd been spying on recently. She was totally fucking potted, just STANK of whatever that shit is that she drinks, as much as I love the stuff myself, I don't care to smell it all over someone else. The CCB was going down slow. About halfway through it, and in the middle of some story about her Avon ladies' sister's mother-in-law, she sets down the CCB and lets out a couple of wet, ominous sounding burps. Of course, about that time my Dad comes in. B: You okay, Zel? I get Zel up, take her by the arm so I can get her into the bathroom before she heaves rotgut and chili cheeseburger all over Aline's kitchen. At the same time, Mr. Genius, who couldn't be bothered to sit in there with us, takes her other arm. I think he's just helping her up. Oh no. HE'S going to help her out the sliding glass door there behind him, so she can puke all over Aline's deck, I guess. We both yank on Zel at the same time, so hard her glasses go flying off her poor head and over under the microwave cart. It's a wonder her arms didn't come out of their sockets. B: What the hell are you doing? Let go. I try again, and I'll be damned, the same thing happens, it was like when you take a towel and play with a dog, let him have one end while you tug on the other, only in this case, the dog was my Dad, and the towel was this nauseous old drunk woman. B: WILL YOU LET GO! I make like I'm going to stomp on one of my Dad's feet- he's been having a lot of trouble with them swelling lately, even with the diuretic he takes, and they're sensitive. And no, I wouldn't have actually stomped it.
He's been calling me a monkey a lot, lately, I think it's a sign of respect, cos the monkey is my sign in the Chinese Zodiac, and as everyone knows, is the most intelligent one. Also the laziest, but what the fuck. Anyway, he lets go of Zel's wrist and I get her into the bathroom. B: Now if you have to throw up, right there is the toilet . . . no, right there- right there, Zel- the toilet, throw up in the . . . ah, dammit. I come out of the bathroom shaking my head. D: She missed the toilet, didn't she. Zel comes staggering out of the bathroom. Z; I'm . . . soooo . . . sorrah. I loaded her pixilated old ass in her golf cart and took her home. And when I got back to Aline's . . . my Dad had already cleaned up the mess. Sometimes he amazes me. Oh yeah, then he points to the chili cheeseburger and asks- D: You think she's going to finish that? B: It's yours. We also went to lunch one day with some of my mom and Aline's old friends- Mary Francis, Mary Agnes, (how fucking Mayberry, I love it) and Reola (I think SHE was originally from Oz) at some old cafeteria, I got a HUGE plate of chicken livers for like three bucks, like I said, I ate good down there, beside what's already been mentioned, I had grits AND greens every single day, turnip and collard twice each, a big carton of good southern pimento cheese spread I ate all myself, fried chicken, chicken and dumplings, homemade banana bread, pecan pie, banana pudding- I think it did my stomach a lot of good- "What's this, food? And more food? Bless you". And bless you, I think this one's just about done. Shit, forgot Comics Corner AGAIN, sorry Bart and Dex, I know I promised, but I forgot and I'm tired, I'll do an extra big CC next issue, swear.
And should I go? Later Bill
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New favorite, they all say it 
Anyway, this CD has a bunch of crap, but a couple of interesting things
as well, a really decent version of "Needle And The Damage Done"
by Simple Minds- I know, I couldn't believe it either- Billy Bob Thornton,
who I'm certainly no fan of, you FUCKED UP, dude, Angelina Jolie, are you
CRAZY, doing "Lost Highway", again, surprisingly good, and
"New Favorite" by Alison Krause, Dave met her in Kroger once,
got her autograph, really good song, sparse instrumentation, desolate
lyrics and vocal, Sarah was saying one of the last times we talked when
she came in next she wanted to start singing together again, I can hear
her doing this song, first verse opens this issue.
Watching? Well, my TV is back on, haven't watched it any yet, "St.
Valentines Day Massacre" is on tomorrow afternoon, may watch it again
if I'm not busy, watched "Minority Report" at Joe's last week, I
recommend it, I'm definitely not all about effects, but that future
car/road deal, with the cars going up and down the sides of the buildings,
was creative and well done, and gave this height fearing boy's stomach a
damn lurch a time or two. As Joe remarked after it was over, "Phillip
K. Dick must've been some weird guy." Absolutely. Someone asked what
the 
Reading? "Behind Blue Eyes", a Pete Townshend biography,
pretty slight. For someone I've always looked up to musically, I think if
I met him I'd probably hate him, poofy art school Brit fuck that he is,
too damn full of himself, and a whiney bastard besides. And NO, that does
not sound like me. I really think if I could hang with music guys I'd have
a much better time with the old country boys, pilling and drinking raw
whiskey and skirt chasing with Johnny and George and Merle and Waylon,
we'd have to talk some about the music though, "Guys, you've got some
good songs, shit, you've got some GREAT songs, but- that TWANG, you know,
in the voices and the fiddles and that ghastly steel guitar, I mean, drop
that fucking twang, okay?" They'd probably want to fight about it,
and we would, but it would all be in good fun. Or not.
Then there's just women and sex in general-"What IS Sexual
'Excess'?" (beats me), "Sex Can Be Brutal", "The
Dangers Of Petting", "The Trouble With Women", "Is
Alcohol A Love Stimulant?", "The Racket In Big Bosoms" (I
never noticed them making that much noise, myself) "Can The H-Bomb
Stop Sex?" (oh yeah), "She'll Leave You Bug Eyed" (?),
"Weird Obsession With Women's Teeth" (??), "French All
Over" (???), "I Saw Sex Drugs Work" (good for you),
"Can Sex Enslave Your Mind" (CAN IT!), and when all else fails,
"How To Jilt A Woman."
I was bored Saturday, out on Aline's dock, forgot to bring a fishing
pole, there were 4 or 5 big- I'd say 7-8 pounders, seriously- catfish
swimming around in the shallows there, there was an old net on the dock,
one of the big ones, broken, where they'd scooped up something too big in
it, I pulled the rest of the round net part off which left this really
sharp end, ran some line through the hole at the other end- which after
reading this story as a kid about a guy who was cast netting for mullet
and netted a small manta that drug him out to sea, I think it was "I
Netted The Manta Of Doom"- I tied to the dock instead of my wrist, I
then had a pretty serviceable harpoon.
D: You damn monkey!
I battled a ton of turtle while belly deep in
boneyheads.