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12/10/03 Nothin' Hurts Like My Back And Side
Hey Actually, nothing hurts like my neck and shoulder, but that's not how the song went. What's been up with Bill? Well, let me tell ya . . Bob calls me last week, Tuesday I think, says "You wanna go to Cleveland Sunday and wrestle for JT?" I did, but I also didn't, with all the beer and the not sleeping and not working out the past few months, I'm not exactly in the best shape of my life (YEAH, THANKS A LOT, YA DO LESS PRICK), sorry, I said yeah, but I either needed to work a short match early, or a tag, I wasn't up to much else. We get up there, find out I'm gonna work Bobby early, about 7-8 minutes, perfect, Bob's just gonna call it in the ring, dead easy match, just what I'd hoped for. I get a couple good spots, Bob is extremely generous in the ring cos he knows he has balls and doesn't have to try to prove it, unlike a certain dickhead who's got a very ugly match somewhere in his future, I swear, I did the walking the top rope thing, got a good pop from that, guys my size don't usually do that, also hit an exploder- had this guy up there tape my hand just all to fuck, should've called myself the Claw, but it did the trick, no further thumb injury to report- and this cool move where Bob slings me up for an over the shoulder Japanese power slam and I reverse it into an inverted DDT on him, looks great. Comes time for the end, Bob hits the big knee, I come back up for the superkick, and man, I don't know, I guess I was woolgathering, or maybe lollygagging, which really isn't something you should do during a wrestling match, I mean I KNEW what was coming but I wasn't paying the least bit of attention, I'm looking out into the crowd thinking, I don't know, beer is good, or something, and I walk right into that damn superkick. I didn't even get my hand up, I took it right flush on the jaw. That snaps my neck around and I go flailing backward (and I assure you, you would have as well), into the ropes and through them, and about the time I'm thinking, "Man, I should've grabbed that rope" I land right on my fucking head on the concrete floor. Good, now in addition to the neck snapping action we’ve got the neck jamming, and then to put the cherry atop this particular Sunday, I flop on over onto my bad shoulder. I popped right back up, more to reassure myself I wasn't paralyzed than anything else, climb back in for the Northern Lights suplex finish- boy, that's just what I was in the mood for right then- but my mind was just koogled, cos when Bob went for the pin, I kicked out. He went for it again, and I kicked out a second time.
Bob: What are you doing? Take it home is goofy wrestle speak for finish the match, but I so bamfuzzled I thought he was actually asking me if I was ready to go home. We get to our feet, I guess he was going to do another Northern Lights, I don't know, cos I just turned around and climbed through the ropes and headed back to the locker room. Bob covered it as best he could, "Uh . . . you come back here you chickenshit, uh . . . don't you run away from me . . . " They tape this shit and have a monitor back in the locker room where you can watch, when I got back there the guys were rolling on the fucking floor, even JT, who can be something of a prick, was laughing. Bob and I got our pay and headed back, and I guess I was pretty concussed or something, I don't remember anything of the drive back till about Portsmouth. Bill: I feel better after my nap.
How're my neck and shoulder now? Sore as fuck, what's new? Enough wrestle stuff, except I forgot to mention last issue, when I called Ricky Morton to see if he'd work a show in March or April and I said, "Ricky, this is Bill Bitner" he said, "Yeah, you're the Death Falcon, right?" which made my fucking day. What else has Bill been up to? Went out last Tuesday for my day after birthday beers, met Joe and Laura at the Cold Spot in Cross Lanes, I recommend this place to all of you, doesn't look like that much on the outside but it's really nice on the inside, fantastic draft beer selection, and it's not so fucking crowded you can't move like the Lock 6 Cold Spot. Had a good time, drank some Newcastle, Laura got herself all wined up and giddy, which was cute, I like a happy drunk, wish I was one. Went on up to the Empty Glass after that, got POUNDED, people kept buying me shots of WT and beer, it was fun, other guitar guy from Jarvis Skye was there that night, always liked him a lot even if I can never remember his name, he was sitting in, he kindly, if insanely, offered me his guitar to sit in a song or two with the band- everyone else in the bar is making throat slashing motions, no, my God no- but even I knew I was too far gone at that point to even be able to strap on. Oh yeah, and I got a ride home, so relax. The girls will be in this weekend, which makes me extremely happy, but I'd appreciate more notice from their mom, as I had plans for both Friday and Saturday which I'll have to cancel. I'm not getting into the pulpit tonight, but Loretta said- well, let it fucking rest. If I had a nickel for every time Loretta said something that wasn't true these past ten years, I'd never have to work again, not if I lived a hundred years. What's Bill drinking? Three guesses.
Think I may be starting to obsess about Laura Petrie, had another dream about her just last night, that's about the fourth in the last month, it was fantastic, they all start out with her dancing, that image must be locked in my head, what she was wearing, or partially wearing, in this one- fucking hell. I'll take a hundred zombie/piranha/alien/shark/demon/raptor/vampire dreams to have one like that any day. Caught Forensic Files the other night while running the channels out at my parents late one night, it's on Court TV, a channel I never watch, but this damn show has some of the most gruesome shit you'll see on regular TV. They regularly run crime scene and autopsy pics that are some pretty strong stuff.
This Wild Kingdom was about the leopard seal, a genuine piece of bad business, a 12 foot long meat eating seal, fuck fish, it eats other seals and mostly penguins, just butchers the shit out of them, it's a hideous animal as well, got a head more like a shark's than a seal's, it even swims with this sinuous, side to side motion like a fish, mammals are supposed to do that up and down thing, I kept hoping for a killer whale to come along and show it who's King of the Jungle. My dad gets up to take a leak and comes downstairs to see what I'm doing, glances at the screen and goes, "That's one of those damn leopard seals."
My Dad went to the doctor last week and got confirmation on what we all already knew, he's in bad fucking shape, he was told watch his diet, exercise, get some of that weight and fluid off, or say goodbye, his heart is in bad shape and laboring. Now that Tina's cats live elsewhere and the ammonia in the fucking rec room air isn't at like Jupiter levels, hopefully he'll get down there on the treadmill, he also needs to quit eating all that sodium filled prepackaged shit my mom wants to feed him. Got the results of my own blood work back, the good news is that it came back fine, the bad news is that it came back fine. I was almost starting to hope they would say, "Shit, Bill, your blood's just out of balance, take this pill and you won't feel like such fucking dog shit anymore." Oh well. And speaking of- the fifth and last needed request came in just today for the piss story, so ye of tender sensibilities might want to skip- no, fuck that, toughen up for Christ's sake, and read on. In the late 80's I sort of moved out into the garage. I didn't sleep there, but I spent most of my down time out there- which wasn't all that damn much. I threw down some scrap carpet, moved my desk out there, and the stereo, and my guitars and amps and shit, and that's where I spent my free time. We're only talking a night or two a week here, I'm not going to get into who was and wasn't pulling their weight back then, but I can hold my fucking head up, about that at least. I'd drink beer while I was out there, and Loretta just fucking hated that. It got to where I'd buy the beer hot and just drink it hot out there, so I wouldn't have to listen to her shit, or put up with the evil eye, every time I came into the house to get another beer. She still gave me shit whenever I'd come in the house to take a piss however, so I got to the point where I'd just stay out there and piss in the empties, then bring them all in at the end of the night and dump them in the toilet. Is there anyone out there who doesn’t see where this is headed (not counting you, Dad)? Yeah. Pretty far into one night I crack a beer, set it on the edge of the desk, then have to fill one, set IT on the edge of the desk, blink or something, then go- oh shit. Which one's the beer? I couldn't tell by temp, I couldn't tell by smell, I couldn't even tell by cautious sip- so I drank them both, and to this day I couldn't tell you which one was the piss because they both tasted EXACTLY THE SAME. There, that wasn't so bad, was it? I could have poured them both out? Are you out of your mind? And what do you mean, do I kiss my mom with this mouth? Your mama, maybe.
Oh yeah, and my name's Bitner.
There's also- (SO THIS IS WHAT IT'S COME TO, HUH? TALKING ABOUT INFOMERCIALS?) We all can't get superkicked out of wrestling rings onto our heads. (I'M BLESSED, I KNOW). Still, you might have a point, I probably have run out of things to say tonight. Anything else you want to say to the people? (WASH ME IN THE WATER WHERE YOU WASH YOUR DIRTY DAUGHTER).
(BACK AT YA) I am Evil Homer No more looking back Later Bill
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Here come the people in gray 
He pulls me up into a chin lock.
At least my head did, not so thick and cottony, but that only let the
pain from my neck and shoulder through. We left Cleveland before the show
ended, and as it was a matinee, we got back to Ashland not too late, I'd
told Vito if it wasn't too late when I got back I'd stop by his trailer
(way out past the Ashland Federal Correctional Institute, I'm amazed I
found it) and drop off tapes for him, and Joe S (who's had four matches
and is now on his third wrestling name, settle down, boy, I say, settle
down) so that's what I did, but my neck is really killing me about that
point. I ask Vito if he's got anything for pain. "Vodka." So we
drank screwdrivers and watched tapes and I got all screwdrivered up and
spent the night on his couch, he's got two little kids, and they are
little, for Vito to be such a bulky guy his kids are real slight, they're
a hoot, they call me Mr. Death Falcon.
Listening to? Well, I noticed a few weeks ago, after using Sarah's CD
player that holds 3 at a time, how many bands there are that I have
exactly 3 CD's of- 13th Floor Elevators, Big Star, Roky Erikson, Genesis
(and again I emphasize, OLD Genesis, please don't think I listen to that
Phil Collins crap), Husker Du, Iron Butterfly, Jethro Tull, Lyres,
Santana, Steely Dan, a bunch of others but those are the ones that come to
mind- so that's what I've been listening to this past week. Went through
all those, however, so now I'm listening to some old Kinks (I have 20
Kinks CDs and 10 Ramones and 8 Wipers and 2 apiece by Voivod and H.P.
Zinker, and yes, I know you didn't ask, but how much of ANY this shit did
you ask for?), "Muswell Hillbillies" just went off, now on
"Schoolboys In Disgrace", I know it was mentioned in some old NL
but guess what, I'm listening to it again, some excellent songs on here,
also a nostalgic favorite for it's time frame, listened to a cassette
taped off Dave's album copy a LOT while I lived in Fairmont, Joe and I
would listen to his 8 track of it in his car, "No More Looking
Back", yeah, right, dream on.
Watching? Caught some more old 50's crime dramas last week on TCM, a
great channel for that kind of stuff, "Hot Summer Night" with
Leslie Nielsen when he was still young and serious, and
"Roadblock", another sap led astray by a dame, caught
"Bell, Book And Candle" last night, I know, it a romantic
comedy, but it's very entertaining, a young Jack Lemmon, the died too
young Ernie Kovacs, Elsa Lancaster, Jimmy Stewart being his usual engaging
self- and Kim Novak. Man, why does she get passed over when talk gets
around to lookers of the past? She was hotter than shit, beautiful face,
great body, classic hourglass figure, sultry voice. I don't know, either.
That same night I was watching "Mutual Of Omaha's Wild
Kingdom" which is back on, I loved this show as a kid, it's been
parodied to death, with good reason, Marlin Perkins really did sit back
and casually narrate as Jim wrestled with the 30 foot python, Marlin's
long gone, a guy who worked with me and Loretta and Doug back at KGB&W
back in the Triassic Age went to school in St. Louis and lived near Marlin
and said he was a hell of a guy.
B: How'd you know that? 
Some guy (I guess it's a guy) asked me this week if the character of
Bender the robot on Futurama was named and patterned after me. I never
really watched the show when it came on after the Simpsons, not sure why,
maybe I was in too big a hurry to get out in the garage and drink a can of
piss. Futurama comes on Cartoon Network after Samurai Jack, so I watched
it last night. In this episode Bender has a bit part as a patient in a
coma in a soap opera. As soon as the camera's on him he jumps up, starts
drinking a beer and doing this crazed dance, while singing this song that
basically goes "Look at Bender". Sorry, but I don't see the
resemblance.
Pretty much bailed on the late night anime and old sitcoms, just laying
on the couch and letting the infomercials roll by hoping they'll put me to
sleep. There's not as many food ones as I'd like, exercise equipment is
always good cos there's bound to be some hot women, I hate the get rich
quick ones, BO-RING, the weight loss ones kill me, "Eat like a
goddamn pig, sit on your ass all day, take this powder/pill and LOSE
WEIGHT" and people buy this shit, give some to Chef Tony, I can't
stand that fat fuck, don't like the appliance infomercials either, air
cleaners and vacuums, although there's this one for the 
You nasty boy.
