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12/3/07 No Easy Way Down Disclaimer: This was supposed to go out late last night but the damn
Interent went whack on me. I hate that damn thing. And if you find a friend Hey Well, Bill ushered in his birthday this year with a whimper, not a bang, and I mean bang in the purely carnal sense, couldn't get a date through my own poor efforts, maybe I'll talk about where things are going later this issue, or maybe not, for now I'll just say, it was what it was, it'll be what it will be. (THAT'S NICE, DORIS DAY. SO WHAT YOU'RE SAYING IS THAT YOU'VE FUCKED UP AGAIN). Pretty much . . . the crazy part is, my misdirected efforts were so I wouldn't feel EXACTLY LIKE I DO RIGHT NOW. Something first off while I'm thinking about it, and while I have them right in front of me, cos God knows if I put it off till later they'll somehow disappear, as we all recall, a year ago (I know, I know, it doesn't seem like that long ago to me either, 1962 doesn't seem like that long ago) I mentioned how I used to keep stats, or Stats, and was going to again last year just for a little self information- not going to bore you with all of them (and to whoever it was, I genuinely forget, who commented on last issue's "boring the shit out of me", yeah, it was funny- and true) I thought last year was a pretty dry one, (God knows I'd rather get drunk than get a job) totals at year end came to Bill getting drunk 122 times, which comes out to like ten times a month, or between two and three times a week, again, I don't think that's a lot but I know there are people out there who do, think of it this way, that's 243 days out the last 365 when I DIDN'T get drunk and that's a lot of sobriety as far as I'm concerned. Only other stat I'm going to pass along is the weight cos I've been accused of being obsessive about it- again, I don't think so, but some do- it fluctuated from a high of 225 to a low of 219- I actually weighed less than that after I got back from Colorado, but I'm only counting (or cunting as I originally typed) first of the month weigh ins. So . . . there. All you needed to know and more. In the mail bag, got a funny and entertaining fan letter, not as great as the ones by hot women saying they want to stick my oversized penis in their mouths, but still great, if it's a put on, it's an artful one. This guy had me in unintentional stitches, he says it's a fan letter, but then pretty much all he does is ramble on about himself, he said he was "in big trubs" with his girlfriend over- something, he refers to his TV as "the goggle box" (?!), as in he spends too much time watching it, at one point he stops in mid-sentence to ask "Do you think I'm a goofus?" good gravy, yes I do, and a damned amusing one at that, concluding this crazy ass tome with "I love reading your newsletter but I'd be afraid to meet you in real life because you seem like a mean old bastard. I mean bastard in a nice way." Okay, but how'd you mean "old"? Jesus. Funny, funny shit. Also got asked how the extra time at Al's is working out, in two words, not well. From Tuesday morning to Friday morning is just TOO MUCH time with Al, as always, I know he can't help it, but I am so sick of his vile incontinent ways I could puke. Gonna try to hold to this schedule for the next two months cos I'm taking a week off in both December and January, but if Al and I are both still here in February, I just have to cut back. Took Al to a geriatric psychiatrist a couple weeks ago, he told us what we already knew, Al's got dementia, probably Alzheimer's, said Al has at best two more years before his mind is totally gone, as in no comprehension or verbal skills left at all, unable to feed himself, etc., no idea how long his body may last, though. Thanksgiving at Robby's wasn't all that, it was nice of them to invite us but obviously it's not where I wanted to be, other than Robby, everyone was too normal to be fun, although Robby has a pair of amazingly pretty daughters, and his oldest one (the younger is sort of Paris Hilton Lite) is also very bright and charming. (HOW OLD IS SHE?) Yeah . . . I mean, NO. Only amusing moment was when Robby was talking about some guy "cowering like a whipped hen." Where does he GET this shit? Oh yeah, the food was good. Speaking of food, had Al at the Golden Corral few weeks back, as stated numerous times, I don't like the grubbers who frequent there but I can get Al to eat a good meal- I seriously question how well he's being taken care of by some of the other hired help- there was this behemoth sitting across from us, 400 pounds if he weighed an ounce and that's being conservative as fuck, he was just this pyramid of flab, I don't care, it's his life, but after he'd been to the buffet I don't know how many times- again, I don't care, seriously- he lumbered back to his table one last time and Al, who'll say whatever comes into his mind- at least he's got the excuse of being demented- goes "My gosh, look at that!" So I look, and this guy has got a plate with three big wedges of chocolate cake on it, he's completely covered them with vanilla soft serve shit, and covered THAT with chocolate syrup. Gosh amighty, Shane. The guy hears Al, and sees him staring, so he goes: Fat Guy: This is what you call decadent with a capital D. Fat guy gets all flustered and pissed, but has sense enough not to say anything. Al: Ha, you called that guy a fatass. Al looks at him. Al: Well, he is. Out of the mouths of demented old men. Now, I've been accused more than once in here before, and I'm sure I will be again, that for a tolerant motherfucker I'm awful hard on our weight challenged brothers and sisters. I honestly don't think so. It's like this- I don't care how much you weigh, seriously, and I don't think being heavy is necessarily indicative of your worth as a human being- although it certainly can be a very valid indicator. How you do or don't take care of yourself is entirely your own business, and I would never crack on someone's weight just to do so. Was my remark to this guy cruel and mean spirited and just plain unecessary? Yeah, pretty much. However, what does get right up my ass are guys like this fucking blob who then sat there all wounded sensiblities and injured pride crying to his dining partner, while shovelling in cake/ice cream/syrup as fast as he could swallow, "Oh, that mean old bastard"- to quote my fan letter bud- "called me a fatass." That's because you are, bitch, you ARE a fucking fatass. If being called fat bugs you, either accept it- "Yeah, I'm a fatass, what the fuck's it to you"- that I can respect- or else change your ways and become not a fat ass. But don't make me out to be the bad guy cos I called your fat fucking enormous ass fat. That goes for anything you have control over, not just weight (I
wouldn't mock someone for being crippled or otherwise physically or
mentally handicapped- well, I would if he pissed me off, but that's
beside the point) be you drunk or asshole, cheating ass whore or
fucking loser bastard, if that's what you are then don't get pissed
at people calling you on it, cos whether you want to or not you own
that shit, either accept that that's what you are and live with it,
or fix it so folks can't call you that. And yeah, again, I agree, I
just should have kept my mouth shut there in the GC, wasn't any
reason at all to even acknowledge that guy, but you know what, I'm
an ill natured prick, and sometimes you're gonna run into pricks, so
learn to deal with it. You'll always feel afraid Along with the set backs in my own frustrating as hell life- was it just last issue I was in a good mood?- things haven't gone so well for some of those near and dear to me, either. Debbie Land's Dad passed away on November 12th and I missed both the vistation and service cos I was at Al's Tuesday when Chris sent out the e-mail notifying everyone, when I got home that Friday I was so damned beat I went straight to bed without checking my messages and so slept all unknowing instead of attending the service that afternoon. No one's fault, really, but it still gave me an attitude, that I would miss something like that- Debbie has been a dear friend of mine for over twenty five years- cos of a motherfucking- job- Jesus, excuse me, I have to go wash my hands after typing that word. I didn't know Mr. Land well, only met him a few times over the years, but he raised Debbie, and I think the world of her, also Chris thought very highly of him and Chris is a lot like me, he hardly likes anyone, so if you make the cut you've got to be pretty damn special. Rest in peace, William Stafford Land, no doubt the world is a lesser place without you. Also since last issue MC Doug has been diagnosed with renal cancer, had his damn left kidney and about a foot of colon out, and is home recovering. Mother fuck me. I want every one of you reading this to send good thoughts his way, and I'm serious about this, serious as a kick in the damn nuts. To digress a second, Al and I were watching some movie the other day and some guy got kicked in the nuts, Al goes "My gosh, a kick like that can PARALYZE YA!" Been on both sides of 'em, and yes, it fucking can. We also watched just the beginning of whatever Tomb Raider was on last week, to catch AJ in her black bikini- she's crazy nuts in real life, annoyingly so anymore, but she still looks buff as shit in that outfit, Al goes "She's got too much breast for her figure". Never, Al. Never. Anyway, to get back to Doug, I saw him yesterday, he looks good, he was sore and a little down, both certainly understandable, but he's going to be fine, and buddy, if it ends up that some day you need a kidney transpant, by God, I've got you covered. (YOU'LL GIVE HIM ONE OF OURS?) Are you fucking crazy? We'll put the goddamn Oxygen Destroyer on some poor fuck and make THEM give him a kidney. What's Bill been up to? Well, going back three weekends, Danny and I worked the HoP show in Martinsburg, Danny got us some good press in the Urinal, more on the match in DFZ news, afterward we hit some bars, got pounded as fuck- Danny said the next morning, "Why is it I get so drunk when I'm with you?", dunno brother, must be the company, in this one bar we got Old Bay wings instead of hot wings (even though drinking, I simply had to eat, was on my second day with no food, only drink, and my stomach lining was about to digest itself), they were quite good, that's something a person could make themselves at home, maybe when Rachie and I have movie night in a couple Fridays we can make some. The girls continue to be a beacon in this mean old bastard's dark night of the soul, Rachel called me four times this past week and she sounds so much like the sweet happy child she used to be it just makes my heart fly, you have no idea, and she's so excited her Daddy's coming to visit it's almost comical- and quite touching. Talked to Sarah on my birthday, she's swamped with schoolwork- apparently they let them tour and play all semester till the end, when they pile it on, she's struggling just with the volume of work she has to do between now and two weeks from now when I'll see her hopping off that plane in Newark- people continue to express their incredulity that I'm spending that weekend in Baltimore, really, it's NBD, I'm okay, Satan and Gandhi- just a small joke for you old timers- are okay, it's going to be fine. I'm grateful they're letting me stay there, sincerely. And if Loretta has a couple sleepless nights with Big Daddy back in the house, what can I say? Also, unless she lets her mother bully her out of it, Sarah will be coming back to WV with me. I promised to take her to see Sweeney Todd on her birthday, the 22nd, Movie Club invite by the way, if you can't handle the movie no hard feelings, meet us after for Sarah's first legal drink in the US, and my ten millionth (and twelve millionth overall). Last Saturday we went and saw Doug in hospital, then Chris and Ron and I got a bunch of Harpoon IPA and went to Chris's house to watch the WVU/UConn game. I'm not a WVU fan- never was, never will be. In fact, until just a fews years ago I actively hated the school and all its fans. Recently, however, I've gotten behind them strictly for the sake of the many friends I have who are fans. WVU winning makes them happy, so by extension it makes me happy for them- other than that, Morgantown could fall off the face of the fucking planet for all I care. So, I'm truly, truly sorry for all my friends who were no doubt crushed by WVU's loss to Pitt yesterday. Ron left early, cos he had to go see a female friend who was playing at Taylor Books, and if you translate female friend into girlfriend I'm not entirely sure you're incorrect, Ron, next time, dammit, tell us all, and we'll all go to see her, or I will, at least. (WE GONNA HECKLE?) Only if she sucks. Or we're real drunk. (THAT SECOND PART MIGHT BE WHY HE DIDN'T INVITE US). A little good natured heckling never hurt anyone. (GOT YOU TOSSED FROM MORE THAN ONE PLACE) Yeah, but it didn't hurt. The next day, Sunday, I went to Martha's for a pre birthday dinner with the usual suspects, Martha, Geri and Steve, and Jean and Tad, great company as always, they were hittng the wine but I didn't get a list this time, sorry, Martha and I were hitting the gin- Bombay sapphire- and tonic, I had three whopping big glasses, don't know how much Martha had but we ran out of gin so then I drank a couple glasses of wine but again I cannot tell you what they were- (DRUNK FUEL)
As for this birthday weekend, tried to get a date with you know who, got turned down for reasons I may or may not go into later but which I have to concede, at least from her viewpoint, are valid, had talked last weekend about going back up to Chris's for this weeks WVU game, just wasn't up for it, like I said earlier just not a fan, spent most of last weeks game reading the first ten new edition Justice Society's (good, still my favorite super group) and three new Suicide Squad (also good). My Mom had said something Friday about us going to Tidewater for the free birthday dinner thing, first thing out of my mouth was, "No, hell no, I don't want to do that, thanks," and her face just fell, a lot of times she does that poor poor pitiful me thing for effect, but this time I'm sure her feelings were really hurt, so I nutted up, and a little later told her I'd reconsidered, and I'd love to take her to dinner at Tidewater for my birthday and her wrinkled old face lit right up, so it was a good decison, I guess. Wasn't all that noble I suppose, I did get a good meal out of it, Tidewater still has excellent, if pricey- which is fine, I don't mind paying a lot if they're the real thing, like these are- crab cakes, Tina joined us, it's just that my Mom drives me OUT OF MY GODDAMN MIND, you know what she got me for my birthday? A set of walkie talkies, so I can have no peace at all on this goddamn earth, I mean, "so when you're downstairs and I'm upstairs, I can call you when I need you". I plan on killing myself any fucking day now. Mister T is funny as shit. (I KNOW DAT, FOOL). What's Bill been watching? Only thing that sticks in my mind is that funny ass Mister T commercial. Next. Green Lantern: We can beat him. What's Bill been reading? Well, as Rachel said today, I'm a reading machine- couple other kinds of machine, as well- Al and I went back to Empire Books since last NL, they were having a library book sale, got six hardbacks and two magazines for $28- SSSLB- read the two 87th precinct Ed McBains, can't go wrong there, and the Brit Regnald Hill's Dalziel and Pascoe, diitto, also got a bunch of comic shit at the library, a pretty good JLA with excellent art by Ed Benes, although I swear I could write this stuff better in my sleep, and some generic Teen Titans and Ultimate Spiderman. What's Bill listeing to? A Bevis Frond CD showed up in the mail last week, Hit Squad, back ordered from way back when from Music Masters, I swear that fucker Bevis saw me coming, Loretta got me one of his CDs back in like '98, Triptych, and it was excellent, I've bought like six of his CDs since then, and not a one has been even close to as good as the first one. Dammit. What's Bill drinking? Rolling Rock. Making up for not drinking a drop yesterday on my birthday, for the first time since I turned six.
Forgot my compression shorts and only had the black singlet with me (the DFZ attire from now on unless sharp objects are involved) which really shouldn't be worn without them, and so ended up giving Martinsburg a look at the real Death Falcon, check out the bottom photo of a face burned Lawless on the mat, and DFZ (and DFZ) in the background. This whoremonger piece of shit computer just lost six paragraphs when I hit save. Goddamn, I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU. Had to actually walk away for about ten (don't even ask what I did after I spent over three hours last week meticulously proofing and correcting M Is For Monster only for the motherfucker to not save at the end- if this computer had been a living thing at that point I would have beaten it to death, swear to God). So, now I'm back, where was I? Still have the Brink of Death tournament next Saturday, and am
still looking forward to it a lot. Someone a while back wrote, "I
think you like pain," dude, I never denied it, not for one minute.
NEVER denied it. When DFZ sticks that blade in I get a release like
I hope you'll never know. Or need. Funny thing is, Lori is taking my nephew Eric (big DFZ fan, and well he should be) and a bunch of his little buddies to the show for Eric's tenth birthday party, I'm gettibng Viper (great guy and a great worker) to give them their own front row section, also donating my pay so they all get in super cheap . . . Lori doesn't have a fucking clue. Even though I told her this was a DM tournament she has no idea, I can't wait for all these little fuckers to get home and tell Mommy and Daddy what they've just seen, Lori's phone will be ringing off the damn hook, you took my kid to see WHAT? My Mom is furious with me, which makes it that much sweeter, I just think it's a damn hoot. I also changed my mind since last issue, and DFZ will indeed be appearing at the 12/29 MWA-AWA Parkersburg show, where the main event is to determine the first Undisputed AWA-MWA Heavyweight Champion. To quote the flyer, 4 competitors, 3 matches, 2 belts, 1 champ. And who's the champ going to be? Exactly, you're talking to him. As far as that walking away from this Fed shit, you know what, FUCK THAT, some other motherfucker is gonna blink first, it's not gonna be me. Before I got into wrestling I thought it must surely attract a bunch of manly he men. I couldn't have been more wrong, a lot- not all, I've met some fantastic people through wrestling- but a lot of what it attracts are a just a bunch of little bitches- some of them may be 6'2" and 260 pounds, but they're bitches all the same. And the day I back down from someone like that- "who needs the trouble" would just be an excuse on my part- is the day I jump off a fucking bridge cos I couldn't take the shame. I'll jack this idiot's head off his motherfucking shoulders first, along with anyone who backs him, fuck me into the goddamn ground if I don't. It's gotten way late, I don't really feel like discussing any affairs of the heart, maybe next time, if there's even anything to discusss. You're last words? (GOOD NIGHT, YOU MEAN OLD BASTARD). Hopefully you mean bastard in a nice way. (ALWAYS. JUST DON'T ASK ME HOW I MEAN OLD). Good night to you. Never a chance to tell Later Bill
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-basically, yeah. As for eats, some homemade appetizers, salmon
and bean and guacamole dips, main course steak pie with salad, Jean
brought me a disc of photos from Colorado, just stunning stuff, got
to get it to Joe so he can put some of it on here, also a print of
Bill about to eat a big elk heart, yum. 
In DFZ news, as reported earlier, the Grapes of Wrath wrestled on
the "Pain in The A" hardcore show at the Apollo in Martinsburg back
on the 17th, wrestled the Hop tag team champs in fact, Lawless and
Tremor (I've never seen a Fed with more one word named workers-
Gutterboy, Skank, Prodigy, Goldthumb, Jerkface, Tank, Aidean, Freak,
Tytan, Dokken, Blackhawk, Blood, Stash, etc.) very nice guys, but
again, limited workers (although credit where it's due, Tremor can
sell well). I say that a lot anymore, but fuck, it's true. Call me a
mean old bastard, but I can wrestle, and can certainly tell when
someone else can't. Not a classic by any means, but it got over with
the crowd, scary how quick they turned on former fan favorites the
Grapes, who were disqualified when the Professor- the HoP website
calls him "Evil Danny Boyd", how funny- threw a fireball in Lawless
face and got us disqualified. Well, that's gonna happen sometimes
when you tag with a guy who throws fire, I can live with it. 
