Surfin' Safari (bonus track from Jap release)12/31/02

Everybody's Tolkien At Me

Let the old world make believe, it's blind and deaf and dumb
Nothing can change the shape of things to come

Hey

After the Death Falcon's obstreperous, but well intentioned, New Year's greeting (sorry, he got loose the other night) all I have to add is that I hope everyone had/is having a safe and enjoyable holiday season, and that every one of you got better than what you deserve (hey, I know ya). As for me, this time of year is still a little touchy, Sarah was bitching about having to do the two family thing for the holidays, it's like "I know, sweetheart, I know," but that's the way it fucking is, and the way it's going to stay, so- anyway, this year was better than last, hopefully next year will be even better, etc. until it gets up to at least bearable.

And yeah, I know I said I was gonna wait until next year for the next one of these, but one more- this one- makes 50 for the year, and that's a lot cooler than 49, so here you go, you lucky bastards.

While I enjoy pounding these out while pounded, some misspellings and grammatical errors invariably result, and last issue had more than I like. Sorry. Be prepared for more of the same.

Watching Spongebob (actually, listening, the TV's at my back), Squidward just said "Shut your half wit pie holes." Hear ya.

Your boy Bill, and the DF of course, have had a pretty full couple weeks since last issue. Sarah turned 16 the 22nd (jeez, I know), took the girls and a couple of Sarah's friends to see The Two Towers Monday the 23rd. If you haven't already seen it, I figure most of you will, we all liked it a lot, this was an example of a good use of millions of movie budget dollars. The next time you see Rachel, call her Smeagol. Seriously, it'll be funny. Then put up your dukes, cos she'll be coming for ya. I have to say, Sarah has met some genuinely interesting kids through CYAC, one of the girls who went with us is in her first year at some music college (not Berklee) in Boston, studying violin and voice, not your run of the mill kid from around here.

Had a good Christmas, so did the girls, fortunately (wasn't talking present wise, but that too). Got, among other things, a big pile of CDs, among them, a bunch of old late 60's psych stuff for 2 bucks each from this cut-out place, Psychedelic Moods from the Deep, sucks, Buzzsaw, not much better, does have a song called "Saturn Jam", but it's not a pimple on my own song, "Seven Years To Saturn (Five Minutes To Uranus)" HA!, Red Krayola, more sucks, why you'd give a song a great title like "Hurricane Fighter Plane" and then make it suck is beyond me, but they did, Blues Magoos, getting better, but the best by far is Marshmallow Overcoat, great combination of spacey/pretty keys and fuzz/ crunch/pretty guitars, depending on the songs, and they should sue the shit out of about half a dozen "Paisley Underground" bands from the mid-80's, cos they ripped off a LOT of melodies and riffs from this CD. Still, what's Bill listening to right now? (Spongebob went off). James Brown, Get Up (I Feel Like Being A Sex Machine) pretty appropriate, still expecting a visit on the 1st (Happy New Year INDEED).

Stopped by Joe's on the way home from Lori's (where we go for Christmas, but I think I'm about done with that), hung out with his family for a while, nice people. Drank a couple Newcastle Browns, great beer. Joe's niece was in visiting from Japan, she's a cutie, if I'm over there wrestling in the next couple years, look out, I may end up calling you Uncle Joe. Actually, I already do, never mind.

Joe's eldest sister Kathy, whom I've known since high school and always liked immensely, brought up my original wrestling incarnation, from 1980, The Charleston Idol, patterned after Austin Idol (The Universal Heartthrob), one of my favorite wrestlers of the time. CI used to wear a mask made out of a pair of Loretta's old pantyhose (old lady in crowd- "Why's he keep sniffing his mask?"), black leotards, and a cape made from an old bed sheet dyed blue, with CHARLESTON IDOL glued on the back in silver sequins. Holy fuck. There's a picture of him in one of the old photo albums out at Loretta's (WHICH USED TO BE HALF MINE) house, I may try to find it for future publication.

While we're on the subject of Joe's family, some of you have gotten the misconception that, just because I take the piss out of him in these pages, I don't like Jack. As Tony Atlas once said to Gordon Solie, "You ain't nebber said nuffin furder from the trut' ". Of course, poor Tony was trying to agree with Gordon, but that's beside the point. Anyway, I like Jack quite a bit, I think he's a hell of a guy, in fact I'm gonna go up on New Year's Eve- uhm, I guess that would be later today, Jesus- and have a drink with him before heading out. It's just that I find his bizarre behavior entertaining, and so I pass it along to you, because that's what I'm all about here, brothers and sister, entertainment.

Got a Superman t-shirt from the girls for Christmas, to go with the Green Lantern shirt they got me last Christmas. GBHF Tommy was cracking on Superman, saying he was too powerful to be cool, which is a common complaint. Now, I'm going to tell you why that's WRONG. Superman is super bad just BECAUSE he's so fucking powerful- he's the end of the damn line, and he knows it. All the rest of them know, well, if it gets past me, there's always Superman. He, on the other hand, has no such comfort, no such backstop. Once Starro The Conqueror, or Big Bamifuss, or whoever, has gone through Flash and Martian Manhunter and god help us, Green Lantern, then who the fuck's left- exactly, Superman, and he always has the added pressure of knowing that not only is he facing the worst of the worst, but if he gets HIS ass kicked, all is lost. That's why Superman's cool- and he'd win a fight with Mighty Mouse any day.

The day after Christmas, Sarah and I watched her new Labyrinth DVD (Rachel stayed a few days up at Lori's). It's not on the DF's favorite movie lists by any means. Even though it does contain the indisputably gorgeous Jennifer Connelly (have you ever wished someone was about 3 inches tall, so you could fit all of them in your mouth at one time?), she's a bit too young in this movie for me to feel comfortable lusting after (which is not to say I didn't, just that it made me uncomfortable).

Joe and David came over Friday, we messed around and put some stuff in the Infernex, had a good time. I played them the first song, "Beasts", off my next project, Kira Majin (which is non-PC Japanese for Killer Machine, say it right, you'll get it), this is a garage/psych type (mostly) one man band, sort of like Bevis Frond with balls. They both liked it a lot, there's this extended organ solo at the end, Dave, who doesn't just give compliments away, said it sounded like I was channeling Ken Hensley, which I thought was very neat. For you who don't know, for fucking shame, Ken Hensley played keyboards for the critically pounded, then and now, Uriah Heep. I think most of that- we're talking the critics shitting on them- was due to their singer, Dave Byron, who was a certifiable moron even by 70's rock singer standards, but he's been many, many years in his sorry grave, having died at the age of 37 from a cirrhotic liver, so lay off 'em, some of their music was pretty good ("Easy Living" anyone?), and for an early 70's British keys guy Ken was a lot more rock and less classical than most, which to me was a good thing.

Dave also said a song on "Future" (coming soon to a store near you) sounded like the Fifth Dimension (!?). Or maybe he said it sounded like it was coming FROM the Fifth Dimension, I'm not sure. Joe and I drank a case of Bud (jarring transition there). And Joe, who's normally yawning at 10 pm, done by 11, (I think this problem is directly related to when he watches too much TV, swear to God, that shit'll put anyone to sleep, not trying to sound superior to any of you here, but TV'S FOR RETARDS, THEY DO IT ON PURPOSE, GET A FUCKING GRIP, if you're not watching a movie or Lucha Libre or Spongebob, TURN THE GODDAMN THING OFF) was all fired up for some reason, 3 in the morning, I'm shoving him out the door, "go home, for God's sake, I got to get some sleep, I have to get up in a few hours and start drinking again".

Which I did. Went over to Chris's for the WVU game (not really gonna rub it in you fan's faces, since I don't hate WVU with anything near the passion I used to, but they came in all cocky, and got their asses wiped, punk motherfuckers), Ron was there, and for a while Debbie's brother in law, George, nice guy, and her nephew, Will, real nice, well spoken kid. Ron made a shitload of quesadillas, and we started out drinking green apple martinis- equal parts vodka- we were drinking Chris's Grey Goose, that shit is fucking smooth, and strong (JUST LIKE ME!)- God bless it, get your own newsletter, I don't care if it is French, (WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU CALLING FRENCH?!?!)- the VODKA, goddammit, go away- check it out, though I'll warn you in advance, the price may make you swallow your tongue- and green apple schnapps, a splash of orange curacao, shake with ice, serve over ice. You'll notice there's no mixer, this is all alcohol. They're fucking GREAT (and they'll light your ass up, as well). We drank all Chris's vodka (2 bottles, but one was a short one) so being the good host he is, he got out the tequila, and we drank margaritas for a while.

After the game Chris and Ron and I sat around and watched DVDs (NOT TV- if you don't get the distinction, I can't help you)- a lot of Band Of Brothers, it was excellent, I recommend you check it out, my dad would love it, maybe I could borrow it from you sometime, Chris- some of the magnificent Max Fleischer Superman cartoons (some of the best animated stuff you will ever see), Black Hawk Down, and some movie with Jeff Bridges portraying this absolutely deranged version of Wild Bill Hickcock, all while drinking and dry firing Chris's pistols at the TV, and shooting the shit till almost one in the morning. It was a good day (and Ron and I quit drinking hours before we left, so don't be concerned about the drunk driving thing).

And Ron, who's funny anyway, is a goddamn hoot when he's loaded. At one point he held up his empty glass for a refill, saying, "Nurse? Oh, nurse?", and later, while we were watching Black Hawk Down, where the guys are running away, says, "I have to run 10 miles to get naked". WHAT THE FUCK? Have no idea what he meant to say (maybe that, hell) but Chris and I were busting a gut.

Felt a little rough that Sunday, as was to be expected, so I did what any fool would do, got into the 1800 here at the house. It's all gone, so what's Bill drinking now? (now would be WHEN, again, fuck, I'm confused- Tuesday am? I think {therefore, I'm slammed}). Joe and Laura got me a bottle of Wild Turkey Reserve, 10 years old, 101 proof (Laura- "We don't want you to think we think you're an alcoholic, or anything . . ." uh, yeah, sure) for Christmas, but I'm saving that for a special occasion, (that shit's the bomb, danke), so I'm drinking the Wild Turkey 101 I already had here, chasing it with Bud. Yeah, I know, been pretty wet of late, wet like drowning, in fact, gonna dry up come the 1st.

The Death Falcon's driving me absolutely around the bend with these music themed catch phrases, ever since I told him the Pavoratti of wrecking bodies was STUPID. When he told me he was the Beethoven of Painthoven, I had to fucking submit, I couldn't take anymore. And for you folks (you know who you are) who asked whose body I spliced the DF's head onto, for shame again, I don't pull those tricks (and I watched that video again, and dammit, it IS Britney Spears). Not sure whether I'm flattered or offended by your question, but that photo's all Death Falcon, all man(iac). As for you who said Loretta's fucking crazy, THANK YOU, I agree 100%. And for you who wondered if this is anything a responsible adult should be doing, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU ASKING ME, go find a responsible adult, for Christ's sake.

And yeah, Mr. Fagmeister out there, I/he did shave our chest. Get over it (or blow me).

The nightmares are fading out some, had a couple bad ones since last issue, both about the start of a nuclear war, not so scary for me, but the girls were in them, and that was bad, cos I couldn't save them (you can tell the A-bomb you're gonna kick it's ass all you want, doesn't matter, you're still gas and ash). I think going to bed trashed is helping, seriously- too messed up to dream.

What else is up? Well, Tina living with my parents is flat fucking not working out. Actually, Tina's not that much trouble, she's seldom home (although she smokes like a fucking freight train and consequently has the cigarette stink hair going big time, so she's got the pillows and head of the bed in the spare bedroom- where I used to sleep when I spent the night there-smelling so fucking bad she's the only one who can lay down there now), it's her fucking cats, which have the whole downstairs reeking of fucking cat shit and piss, and her dog, Squirt, who's actually a very good dog, but has got my dad stressing to hell trying to keep him out of the living room, and off the upstairs bed, when he's not stressing like hell worrying about how he's ever going to get the cat stink out of the downstairs. Neither one of my parents need that shit.

Tina says she's just staying there till she can save enough money to afford a place of her own. And if you believe that, I've got something I want to sell you. What? It doesn't matter what, because if you buy that, you'll buy anything. I told Lori at Christmas, "We're probably gonna have to kill Tina to get her out of that house" and she said "And that's a problem, how?" Really. And if you ask why I don't do something about it now, I quit trying to talk to my mom about it, because I always get ripped for being the fucking bad guy, an unsympathetic prick, although those aren't the words she uses, and it's her house and if she wants to let Tina trash it, that's her business, and none of fucking mine. Ouch, yeah, it's not like I ever do anything fucking for you. There's no point appealing to Tina's better nature, cos when it comes to screwing my parents she's never had one, neither can I threaten her, because I can't back it up, and she knows it. But her being there is putting LOADS of fucking stress on my parents, and she needs to bail. Or ditch the fucking animals, and that will never happen.

I go out there very seldom anymore, pretty much only when they need me for something, cos I just can't stand the whole atmosphere, was out there for as long as I could stand, which was just a little while, on Sunday, when I got ready to leave my mom kept going, don't rush off, my dad says, "Stay, I'll open a keg of glue and we can all stick together." Dear God. And, a KEG of glue?

And for you sensitive types, I'm not gonna send this issue to GBHF Tom, no sense in hurting his feelings ripping on his mom. Hell, it's not his fault.

Staci's due in sometime early Wednesday afternoon. My Japanese connection didn't come through with any condoms like I'd hoped, but I got a couple from a friend who shall remain nameless, hopefully they're what I'm looking for (I think one of them might be Japanese, he gave me one each of two different kinds), I was genuinely touched, thanks a lot, oh anonymous one. They'll probably last me till, maybe, late Wednesday afternoon, after that, got 2 sampler 6 packs which I have every intention of going through before she leaves Friday morning. Think I'm boasting? Probably. Think I'm kidding? No fucking way.

Think I'm outta here.

(AND I'M THE BEETHOVEN OF PAINTHOVEN!)

Send help.

Later

Bill