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12/1/03 Living In Darkness
Hey Well, Thanksgiving's history, hope everyone had a good one, now just Christmas to be gotten through (sorry, but my holiday spirit this year is one of the fucking Evil Dead) and on into a new year. The girls were with me from 10 am Wednesday when I picked them up in Morgantown, till 1 pm yesterday when I dropped them off. I certainly enjoyed having them in, I think they had a good visit, although that whole fucking concept- my own kids having to "visit" me- makes me so goddamn mad and sick at the same time- what a load of shit. When I see Loretta and Gandhi to exchange the kids I can hardly speak, cos I know if I open my mouth it's going to turn into this Great Whitish maw and just bite their fucking pinheads off . . . Stopped in for a few minutes at Loretta's mom's Thanksgiving Day when I dropped the girls off there for a couple hours, it was nice to see everyone, of course I see Dave and Barbara regularly as it is, but it was good to see Mrs. Hurley, and extra good to see Kim and her kids, it's been years, even Denise, who I've been told now hates me, was pleasant. It also gave me a lump, not in the usual spot, but in my throat, I spent 25 Thanksgivings with Loretta's family and I miss it and them, and the motherfucker who took my place doesn't even want to be there- and wasn't. When I was cracking on Loretta for not spending Thanksgiving with her family she said, and this is verbatim, "My family's in Baltimore now." I'll bet her mom and siblings would feel really good to hear that. Shitbag. The problem with the girls being in, of course, is that I miss them that much more when they leave. This house is fucking EMPTY right now, believe me. What's Bill drinking? Once again, 99 cent Bud double deuces. I haven't slept since about ten am Saturday, and I drove to Morgantown and back yesterday, so this should be some good fucking buzz, cos I'm tired, tired, tired. My Dad had his 76th birthday the 23rd, so he's outlived his Dad, who died a week before his own 76th. He's still a damn mess, I stopped by there on my way back from Morgantown cos I'd left some books there, and as I'm getting ready to leave he finds out his car won't start cos he left the fucking lights on, so I had to take his ass to Drug Emporium, and I'd have rather taken a beating, I swear to God. Now that Tina's moved out, which she finally has, my Mom's making noises about how 'bout I move in? Can't do it. I mean honestly, I simply can't. I can hear the coroner now, "It looks like his head just . . . exploded."
(YOU SAID OVIPAROUS) Thank you Death Falcon Butthead.
We seem to be on an aging theme this issue, and as such, I ran into Valerie Sharp in Poca Foodfair last week. She used to sit next to me in Mr. Raines 9th grade Civics class, and she was a pretty, PRETTY girl, every guy in the class envied me my seat placement (hell, most of them envied me my seat, as well) very sweet also, very friendly, ask Joe, I promise you he remembers her, I asked her out to a movie (my dad driving, obviously) fairly early in the first nine weeks and was told, politely, but definitively, that she only went out with guys who were in high school. I never got to put it to the test the next year, as that was the year the Putnam County Nitro kids like her had to start going to Poca, prior to that all Nitro kids went to NJHS and NHS regardless of county (for you folk who don't know, Nitro lies in both Kanawha and Putnam counties, and I agree, that was good planning), and I never saw her again. Till last week. It would break your heart. I'm not going to go into detail about how bad she looked, but she had this huge dumpy ass, and big bags under her eyes and her hair was all scraggly and she looked way, WAY too old to be the same age as me, and she just had that beat down look that so many people around here seem to get. Okay, maybe some detail. I just walked on past, hoping it wasn't her, and wondering for the ten millionth time why those prigs at Poca FF don't sell beer, when she said, "Hi, Bill." We talked for a little while, but in all honesty it was making me depressed, "Girls we knew back then have gone astray/And the light in their eyes/Has gone away", I did ask her before leaving though how she knew it was me, cos while I don't think I have the same mauled to death by life look she has, I also know I don't look ANYTHING like I did in 9th Grade. "You have the same eyes" she said. Oh.
Listening to? Well, I was listening to Agent Orange, "Living In Darkness", excellent CD, great guitar sound, no effects, just an SG played very LOUD, it went off, now I'm listening to the Adolescents, a comp with all their stuff on it, some of it dips into generic ramalama hardcore dreck, but there's also some good shit in here as well, some thoughtful lyrics, like "Kids Of The Black Hole". Paris Hilton, quit e-mailing me goddammit, I DON'T WANT TO WATCH YOUR VIDEO. I get this shit ten times a day, easy. Reading? Well, once again let me reiterate, SMART SHOPPERS SHOP LIKE BILL. I just got biographies of great jazz saxers John Coltrane and Ornette Coleman, Coleman is the one who came up with that bizarro harmelodics deal, weird shit, I love it, also of Richard Thompson (Fairport Convention, solo, and with then wife Linda, he's been on Mountain Stage many times), the oddball Brit group XTC, Iron Maiden- dull book about a dull band, I read it first to get it out of the way, but it was only a dollar, what the fuck- this great huge Deadheads Tapers Compendium, I'm not either, but I might be someday and then it'll come in damn handy, a bio of William Burroughs, can't stand his books but I like his essays, and he's interesting to read about, he's the one who was playing William Tell with his wife, and shot his wife in the head- why did I never think of that one?- all for under $40. I also ordered this ginormous R. Crumb book, he's a dead sick fuck, but again interesting to read about and some of his drawings you have to see to believe, but, me being me, the invoice said it was shipped, but it wasn't in the box. I sent them a note telling them so, hopefully it will arrive soon.
Doesn't sound like much, but man, I loved it, I used to run through the neighborhood shooting rubber tipped arrows at telephone poles and screaming, "Look out, big honker!" for HOURS. Tim Truman, who was, and I guess still is, from Gauley Bridge, but no longer lives there, revived Turok for Valiant in the early 90's, bringing him up to modern times as well, I remember reading one where this plesiosaur attacked a bunch of rafters on the New River (don't I wish), I wish I'd bought it now instead of just reading it in the store, but- I was going to say I met Tim Truman once, but actually I didn't, Greg from Comic World had him in once at a signing, I didn't know he was going to be there, I just showed up, and I thought he came across as a condescending, full of himself ass, so I just got my comics and bailed, didn't bother trying to get an audience with the great man. Shame, too, cos the guy was an adequate writer and an EXCELLENT artist, I had genuinely considered approaching him about a collaboration, I can write circles around the guy, together we could've done a great comic, but when I saw he was a shit, I didn't. Oh yeah, and that Turok, Dinosaur Hunter video game? Nice try, but don't fuck with canon.
Thinking of those lost years makes me think of the time I drank a can of piss. A lot of you have heard this story, if any of the rest of you want to, let me know, if I get, let's say five, that's not many, requests for it, next issue I'll tell the story of how Bill drank a beer can full of his own urine. What else has Bill been up to? Went down to Bobby's for pizza and beer and to watch old wrestling videos the Thursday before Thanksgiving, that was the week of big water, damned motherfucking inconvenient, the only way I could get out of here for three days was to go out over Red House hill, not tremendously bad if I was headed to Huntington or Ashland, but a damned pain in the ass to take an hour and fifteen minutes taking the long route to my parents. The problem with this damn water out here is that it goes up fast and then stays up a long time, a good thing when you're talking about Bill, but a very bad thing when you're talking about the Poca River. Had a good time with Bob, he's a funny and generous host, every time he got me a beer, he got me two, "Saves me a trip" he'd say. On the wrestling front, watch for the debut of Charleston All Pro Wrestling on February 7, 2004, at the Kanawha City Rec Center. Seven matches, main event looks to be Bobby against Tommy Rich for the CAPW Heavyweight belt, the DF will be wrestling for the CAPW Hardcore belt- and this time, hardcore MEANS fucking hardcore. I've talked to Ricky Morton and Bobby Eaton on the phone this past week about future bookings, and let me tell you, the fan boy in me found that to be very cool. Although remember, CARD SUBJECT TO CHANGE. The night after I went down to Bobby's I went out with Kat to Friday's for some Beck's Dark, and some appetizers, on her, a very good time, danke, and let's do it again, soon. The next night (oh, you busy boy) I went down to Jean and Tad's for some more beer, and some elk chili, made from the elk Tad bagged in October in Colorado. Excellent eats. David was there, (another Dave, there's tons of ya, didn't your mama's ever hear of Craphonso?), as funny a guy as you'd ever want to meet, he's having surgery 12/17, all of you people who feel you're connected, please put in a good word for him. See, I'm always afraid to call attention to my friends . . . "Oh, he's a friend of Bill's? I wasn't aware . . . well, in THAT case". Tad's brother Dick was there as well, who's in such good shape it's insane, he's taking some herbal supplement that he loves, he told me what it was but I forgot, imagine that, well, since he's now getting this thing- you people will some day learn to be careful what you ask for- Dick, buddy, e-mail me the name of that stuff your taking, please. Also, Chris, you were talking a while back about considering getting an M-14- man, do it. Dick just bought one and he had it there at T & J's and it was sweet, sweet, SWEET. I didn't fire it- no honkers around- but it looked and felt great, and them folk who did fire it said it shot well. Had a Man's Man dream the other night, almost literally, dreamed I was looking at one of those man's world mag's, the cover had these two guys on this plank bridge, they're standing back to back, they've got Thompson submachine guns with the 50 round drums, and they're blazing away at these zombie hordes that are coming at them from both directions. These aren't the "just a head shot will do" type zombies, they have to practically be shredded before they go down, everything's cool till I look at the magazine's title, and in this Billocentric universe the title was, "Too Bad, Bill" and that was all it took, I was on the damn bridge, back jammed up against that poor other fucker, shooting for all I was worth trying to keep these fucking zombies offa me. I think, "Fuck this," and get ready to jump off the bridge, when I look down and see the water around the zombies that we have managed to shoot to shit is all aswarm with about a jillion piranha- hell. The guy's back gets yanked away from mine and I hear him start screaming and I realize the zombies have got him, so I jump off the bridge anyway, better the piranha I figure, but I wake up before I hit the water. Good. The girls and I went to XMCW Saturday night, to exchange tapes with Kris and Trav, and talk to a couple guys who are supposed to work the 2/7 show. XMCW for the most part is still HORRIBLE, kids pretending at being wrestlers, if they came down to Ashland they'd get killed, straight up. They have some talent, though, Chance Prophet, nice kid, just wrestled a dark match for NWA-TNA, which is pretty impressive, got his nose broken Saturday night, bad, from a fucked up (mistake wise) kick to the face. He came out to talk to me after the show, about working 2/7, and it looked terrible, it made my nose hurt just to look at it, seriously. I don't like kicks to the face for just that reason, you're supposed to go sole of foot to cheek or side of head, but shit happens. Still, he's a tough kid, probably gonna work the next XMCW show in December, he'll definitely be there in February. I'm running down, I was right, no sleep plus beer equals powerful buzz- the voice of experience talking- so, since we're on the subject of wrestling, and it's been a while since the last Death Falcon story . . . (I THOUGHT YOU’D NEVER ASK). Take it away, then. (OKAY. Firstly, I'm gonna drop outta these caps. Let's see . . . I remember the time we were in the Kobe Sun Dome, going for the All Asian Tag Team Belts, I think it was '88, it was me and Death Falcon S, for Sergei- he was Russian, but you know, with the mask, it was cool- he was a big guy, S, he made Nikita Koloff look like Pee Wee Herman- I mean that literally, he beat him in a Loser Is A Geek Match, and made him look like Pee Wee Herman. We were going into the finals, we'd already beaten Karachi Vice, brothers Gamma Singh and Makhan Singh, yeah, we made 'em sing, like little fucking birdies, take that ya polytheistic bastards- no wait, they were Muslim, not Hindu- oh well, and also the Viet Cong Express, Nguyen #1 and Nguyen #2, slippery little shits they were, we finally took them with this double team move we invented just for them, the Arclight. We were facing the Japanese team, The Jumping Bomb Angels. They'd beaten the Burmese Pythons in the first round- I wonder if they're called the Myanmar Pythons now, who the fuck cares- and had also upset the Thai champions, The Siamese Supermen. The Japanese team were women, Chigusa Nagoya and Lioness Asuka, and even though lions and falcons are natural enemies, fighting over the same nesting grounds and all, I have to say that Lioness kind of got to me, I'd grind my bone against her hair, as the Kingsmen did or didn't sing. So then I said, "Is that all you got, you Japanese piss ant!". And then-) I think you skipped a bit. (No I didn't. And then we won.) You won. (Yep.) And that's the end? (Well, no, then me and Lioness went back to the hotel and she showed me why she was called a Jumping Bomb Angel.) And? (And it was good). Okay. Nothing says lovin' like something from the oven. (You got it). You done? (I'm done). Me too. Some are born to sweet delight Later Bill
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Everybody's asking me 
And by the way, Happy Birthday to me, since it's after midnight and now
the 1st, it's officially my birthday. Forty seven, and still a freak of
fucking nature. Not the happiest birthday I've ever had, by a long shot,
and I can't really say that sitting pounding beers all by my lonesome out
on Harmon's Creek is anything like I wanted for myself at this point in my
life, but you know what? Fuck it. As John Carter of Mars said on many an
occasion, "Where there's life, there's hope," and he came
through some tight fucking spots, fifteen foot tall six armed carnivorous
Martian gorillas, for God's sake, all grins in the end, and if he can do
it, so can I. Now . . . where's my sword and ray blaster? Not to mention
my large breasted oviparous red Martian female . . .
As for this outliving your Dad thing, I have it on unimpeachable
authority, id est, a psychic palm reader, Charlotte and Roger Pritt's mom
by the way, that at 47 I'm just barely half way through. She told me way
back in '76 when I was spending the night at their house, that I would
live to be 90. She also said I would be severely injured at about 30, and
again 15 years later, and that I would never really heal or recover from
either one, and that's frighteningly accurate, I just thought at the time
she meant physically, not emotionally and psychically. So, as she was
right about that- 90, here I come.
Tina said if I come up to the 
What's Bill been watching? Caught "
Also watched one of the movies with Frank Sinatra as private dick Tony
Rome, don't remember what it was called, Raquel Welch caught my eye, as
she's wont to do, as I was changing channels, it wasn't bad, though it was
quite jarring to hear normally genial Dan Blocker saying things like,
"That bitch ratted me out"- Ben would've washed Hoss's mouth out
with soap- and, while he may have been the Chairman Of The Board, Sinatra
ran like a fucking girl.
Okay, before I forget again, a little Comics Corner. I was getting some
cat soiled boxes out of my old bedroom, the one behind the rec room, came
across some old Turok, Son Of Stone. This was absolutely THE favorite
comic of mine from preschool- I could read at three, yeah, I know, I
should've joined the circus, too late now- till . . . I don't know when,
it may still be my favorite. It concerned the adventures of two Indians,
an impetuous young one, Andar, and an always having to save Andar's ass
older one, Turok. They somehow entered Lost Valley and couldn't find their
way back to the world, which was bad enough, but Lost Valley was full of
dinosaurs which were always trying to put the bite on our boys. This
would've been a one issue comic except Turok fortuitously found some
poison berries to soak their arrowheads in which killed dinosaurs
instantly, as well as painfully, if their quite well drawn facial
expressions were any indication. The series, which ran from the late
fifties into the seventies consisted entirely of T and A (ahem) wandering
lost around, well, Lost Valley, trying to find their way out, toppling
dinosaurs (which they called "honkers" by the way, Indians,
jeez) and mixing it up with varying tribes of cavemen who either
worshipped some whacked out god that would always end up demanding the
sacrifice of T&A, or else needed saving from some particularly bad
honker.
Tim's crowning glory was the truly excellent "Scout" (so
maybe he didn't need me after all), I'm remembering this the best I can,
"Scout" was big in the mid-to-late 80's, not the best time for
me, I mean, I know they happened, and I know I was there, but I remember
very little from those days. Anyway, "Scout" was set in the near
future and the world has gone to shit, there's been another American civil
war, the planet's ecology is fucked, and Scout, who is this Native
American Green Beret finds out that the cause is that these Indian demons
have returned and are in positions of power, one is the US President, for
instance. Everyone else sees the President on TV making a speech, but
Scout sees this buffalo headed monster- which is the real thing. So Scout
has to get to these demons and kill them to set things right. Tim had fun
with this comic, he put a lot of his friends in it, something I do in my
stuff, he even used their real names, and worked in a lot of WV
references, I remember this one settlement was called New Dunbar. I bought
Loretta a "Scout" badge at Comic World- badges and pins were big
in the 80's- and she wore it on her sleeveless denim vest for years.
Anyhow, "Scout" was a really good comic, and if you want to read
it, I'll sell you mine- I think I have #1-#18- for whatever the going rate
is
