|
12/18/03 What Would Batman Do?
Hey Call me mom. I'm not going off on some anti-Christmas rag, cos normally I like Christmas, but this year it can't be over soon enough for me, and right this instant I am very close to being in the worst mood I've ever been in in my life. Merry Christmas though, to you and yours, and I mean that. Nuff said (the condensed version of what was four paragraphs of rant, and yes, you're very welcome). What's Bill been up to? Not a lot, the girls didn't come in last weekend as scheduled as Rachel was sick, my Mom's birthday was last Thursday (which makes me a triple Sagittarius, the most creative of all signs, since both my parents are as well) so I took her and my Dad to Red Lobster last Friday for their birthday dinners. We went early, around 4:30, which was good, by 5:00 there was a line halfway back to Charleston. M: I think I'll have crab cakes. Later D: Are your crab cakes fried enough? They seemed to enjoy their dinner, though my Dad was doing that "I'm totally oblivious I'm in public" thing, eating like the fucking Tasmanian Devil, chomping and gnashing and food all over his face and hollering "Bread!" every time the waitress passed our table, sweet Jesus, my mom asked him if he was starving and he told her yes, what's it to her?. He was still full of complaints, the slaw tasted like chewing on cedar trees (?), the scallops weren't big enough and there weren't enough of them, the waitress wasn't respectful enough. B: When she comes back I'll have her genuflect for you. My mom wanted to just "stop by" the Town Center on the way back, I said no fucking way, but then she looked so hurt I felt bad and said okay. I said I'd just wait in the car, so then my Dad said he would too. I said, if you're waiting in the car, I'm going inside, so he said, okay, I am too. Aaaaaaaaaaaah. We were in there walking around, me and my shadow, when my dad goes, "Look at what's over in that quiche."
Half the mall turns to look where he's pointing. B: You mean that kiosk? Although give my Dad credit, Doc says lose weight, he loses weight, 13 pounds in two weeks. As he might have said, but didn't, "I still have lots more crazy things to do!" The rec room has resumed stinking of cat offal since the smell of Pine Sol has worn off, they need to get that horribly soiled furniture out of there, Tina said she's coming back to take care of that, but if you hold you breath waiting for it, you'll die a stupid idiot. Joe, maybe sometime soon me and you can throw that stuff in your truck and take it to the dump, I'll make sure Tina pays dump and transport (beer for me and you) fees. I was pretty bummed after I dropped my parents off, the holidays are sucking hard for me this year, easily the worst ever, I know I'm whining but I MISS MY FUCKING LIFE, I used to love Christmas, swear to God, I was unhappy that the girls weren't coming in, if things had worked out differently I could have been at Joe's and Laura's office party that night having fun, but I wasn't- you know, basically feeling sorry for myself, but dammit all, with reason, so I stopped by the liquor store looking for something cheap, vodka's always a good bet in that situation, was going to get a fifth, but half gallons were on sale, jackpot. You tell me what happened the rest of that night, cos I sure as fuck can't tell you, except I drank most of a half gallon of vodka, and scrawled a couple pages of indecipherable gibberish. What little bit of it I could later puzzle through creeped even me out.
I was invited up to Chris's that evening for margaritas and to check out his new movie viewing system, I'm no techno but it sounds awesome, 84 fucking inches, but I fell asleep for a while and then woke up puking, and who wants that to come knocking at their door? Exactly, nobody. Supposed to go to Joe and Laura's family Christmas gathering at their house this Saturday, not sure if I will or not, right now I'm leaning toward going. I just hate hanging out with other people's families when I've lost mine. Also, I've got that hair trigger feeling going, and I don't want to go down there and head butt people through the walls. So Joe, if you're listening- what am I saying, of course you’re listening, if and when I show up, if the first thing you do is shove a beer in my hand, you'll be making one of the bigger mistakes of your life, trust me. Shove food at me, instead, not that vegan shit, for Christ's sake, something more like a calf's head just falling off the bone, that sounds good.
I'm serious, and that's some kind of good job, one of the many reasons I'd like to be an actor, get cast opposite some good looker, kiss her about a thousand times in rehearsal, than again while filming- great work if you can get it, I love to kiss, and I'm good at it, which I think goes hand in hand. Haven't included any recipes in quite a while, mostly because I've been cooking hardly any since the girls left, but I bought, ages ago, some Bear Creek Minestrone Soup, comes in a bag, makes a half gallon for like 3 bucks, finally made some last weekend when my stomach was unsettled, for packaged soup it was actually very, very good. It reminded me of that Lipton dried soup, I don't know if they even still make it any more, only a lot better, settled my stomach down real nicely, and thinking of that reminds me of right about this time 24 years ago, the first winter Loretta and I were married, on Saturday afternoons we'd make some of that Lipton soup and pour in into mugs and sit together in the old recliner we used to have and watch movies. Joe often talks about that Bitner Memory Thing, cos it's true, there are millions of things that have slipped away, but if I do remember it, I remember it as clearly as you do something that happened this afternoon, that season we watched "Creature From The Haunted Sea" and Frankenheimer's "Seconds" (from the ridiculous to the sublime) and a dozen more I could name you, and as much as I'd like to shotgun the hosebag she is now, the person I used to sit in that recliner with, her on my lap, both of us all hugged up and under a blanket sipping soup and watching movies on a winter afternoon, I miss that person so much that there are times- a lot of them, lately- when I think my heart is just going to seize up and stop beating it hurts so bad. (YOU FUCKING WIMP). That would be me. (AT LEAST YOU'LL OWN IT). All I can do. What's Bill drinking? Well, it might surprise you, but green tea. No alcohol since last Friday's vodka, now that Kroger is back open I've finally been able to get some just plain green tea, everyone else wants to sell it flavored, I don't want it flavored. I said, I DON'T WANT IT FLAVORED. Actually, easing back into working out this week, and feeling better for it (hey, if my crazy old man can do it). Ever since that guy in Cleveland wrapped my thumb up all good and tight for the match up there, my thumb has felt the best it has since it was ripped out of it's socket back early in September. Back to lifting, tentatively, I've dropped the weights way back, but it's feeling good, not hurting my thumb, maybe if I just take it slow. Stopped by the GNC in Cross Lanes to pick up the supplement- Tribulus Extreme Fuel, by Twinlab- recommended by Dick, they didn't have it, they have it at the GNC at Town Center-if I’d thought of it when I was there earlier, but I didn't- I'll get some next time I'm up there, let you know how it works. As for that calcium stuff I was taking last summer, gave it three months, didn't feel any different, went back to the regular vitamin I was taking before. No Comics Corner this time around cos there's just no comic I feel moved to talk about tonight. Sorry Dex (you little puke). What's Bill listening to? Some old compilation tape Greg made me about fifty thousand years ago, "Life And Times Of A Tang Spoon", basically songs he wanted the band to cover. I especially like "Hot Dog Heart" (She was a T-Bone talking woman/But she had a hot dog heart), but as I look through what's on the tape, of the 24 songs on here there's not a damn one we ever played out, and only two- "Enjoy and Get It On" by ZZ Top, and "Black Juju" by Alice Cooper- that we ever played at practice. Oh well, sorry Greg, maybe next band. That reminds me, I meant to tell you guys a while back, but Mp3.com no longer exists, so those links at the bottom of the website now lead to- I don't know, no where, I guess. Got an e-mail from some moron thanking me for turning him on to the gross photos on Forensic Files. That wasn't the point I was trying to make at all, ya morbid fuck. We haven't done a tough guy in a while, and in keeping with this issue's theme (WWBD?) let's talk about another old hunter (remember our buddy Foran from about a year ago? I do). This time around we have Sasha Siemel, born in Latvia in 1890, who went to Brazil around 1914. Why? I guess it beat Latvia, I don't know. One thing about Brazilians I've always heard is that they're a hot blooded bunch of mother fuckers, and Sasha learned that the hard way, finding himself not long after his arrival down South on the hit list of some thug named Favelle who decided he was going to kill Sasha, for some slight Sasha never even knew he did- and probably didn't do at all. Favelle pulled a gun on him in some bar, and even got off a shot, but a guy who was going on to hunt jaguars with a fucking spear wasn't going to be intimidated by some Brazilian punk ass piece of shit, gun or no gun. Sasha took the revolver away from Favelle and beat his fucking head in with it. Brazilians are apparently also tough mother fuckers, cos Favelle survived the beating, but Sasha, thinking he'd killed the son of a bitch, fled to the jungle to escape both prosecution, and revenge from Favelle's friends.
Siemel killed 30 jaguars like that, which just boggles my mind, he must've had balls the size of cabbages, I can't even imagine. One of them was El Assassino, who killed 400 head of cattle, an incredible 200 hunting dogs- using the classic fishhook maneuver, he'd circle back and pick off the dogs one by one- and finally this rancher who was a friend of Sasha's, who quite foolishly went jungle hunting for him on his horse, and who was knocked off it and brain bit for his trouble, which is what put Sasha on El A's ass. El Assassino was so big his charge broke Sasha's spear and he managed to claw a shoulder, but Sasha- what a fucking hardass, I swear- pulled the busted half of spear out and stabbed him again, killing him. El A was nine and a half feet long, and weighed 400 pounds. That would make a good sized lion, and is an absolutely huge jaguar. Oh yeah, and our buddy Favelle? Some people just can't escape fate. He was going after some other guy who hadn't really done anything, Fav was just looking for an excuse to murder someone, and he goes to cross this stream. Now, they've been exaggerated some in book and film, but piranha are still nothing you want to dick with (HA). Favelle gets attacked by piranha mid stream, and in the relatively short time it takes him to stagger out onto the opposite bank, he's not only been eviscerated, his guts hanging out in spools, but also castrated. Knowing when to call it a day, at least, he drew his revolver and blew his brains out. Apparently it couldn’t have happened to an nicer guy. I guess anything after that would be anticlimactic, so I'll say I think I'm about done. Once again, in all sincerity, best wishes from Bill and the Death Falcon (it's down to just us, I'm afraid) to you and yours this holiday season.
Later Bill
|
There's
always some evil mother 
B:
That what? 
I
lay on the couch Saturday nursing a pretty wicked hangover, watched John
Carpenter's Prince of Darkness. I remember when it first came out in '87
somebody at work telling me it was really scary, I can't remember who, I'm
thinking it was Keith but I wouldn't want to swear to it (this same
person, whoever it was, also told me the "The Believers" which
came out around the same time, was scary, only scary part about that was
that Martin Sheen, who's liberal ass I quite sincerely can't fucking
stand, yeah, you weren't quite so smug when the Ebonites were torturing
your POW ass in that Episode of "Outer Limits", were ya, doesn't
get killed in it). I've tried to watch PoD a couple times in the ensuing
years, never could get through it, but lying brain damaged on the couch on
a very gray December afternoon is the perfect way to watch it.
It
doesn't make a damn bit of sense, at least to me. It has to do with this
bucket of green goop in this church basement that's actually Satan- I
know- and these people are called in to study it, and bad shit happens.
The script is horrible, it tries to mix pseudo religion with lame ass faux
quantum physics, at one point I was moved to shout "Hokum!" at
the screen (and you know me, I seldom use strong language), the chosen one
has to bear the sign of Blue Oyster Cult- I'm not kidding, you know that
hooked cross they use?- everyone does that slasher movie thing of
wandering off alone and never looking over their shoulder until- oh no!-
it's too late, green goo thing possesses the women and kills the men-
certainly what I'd do in similar circumstances- no real stunners here but
this one red head is pretty good looking, in fact, she looks quite a bit
like Rhonda Jo Petty, who used to make dirty movies back in the early
80's. Watch at your own risk.
Watched
a bunch MORE old crime movies on TCM, "Threat" and a bunch of
old Lawrence Tierney's, another real life tough guy, you modern fucks
might know him from where he was in "Reservoir Dogs". Also
watched the '64 version of "The Killers", fantastic cast, Lee
Marvin, whom we all know I love, it's his damn insouciance I think, what a
guy, also the underrated Clu Gulager, Ron Reagan very creepy as the (or
rather, a, there's lots of 'em in this) bad guy cos he looks just like he
did when he was President, Claude Akins, John Cassavetes, Angie Dickinson.
Good movie, very different from the '46 version, which is also good, I was
struck in this one by how many times John and Angie kissed.
There
were lots of cattle ranches bordering the jungle, and lots of jaguars
who'd come out of the jungle to eat the cattle. Sasha got a job as jaguar
hunter, and was trained by your traditional old Indian (who was later
killed by a jaguar, go figure). Guns weren't much use in the bush cos the
jaguar would be right on you before you could shoot, and with their
vitality, even if you shot one fatally he was still going to be on your
ass before he died, so Sash was taught to hunt them with a spear, not the
throwing kind, but the pig sticking kind, brace and let the animal impale
itself.
Time
doesn't fly 