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12/31/10 And Their Memory Was a Bitter Tree
Happiness is for pussies- The Goon Knife in the eye!- Frankie, Goon sidekick Hey Nine years. Nine consecutive years I've set down at this keyboard- well, not this exact keyboard but a similar sticky partially working abomination- (SOUNDS A LOT LIKE YOURSELF) -and written a New Year's Eve newsletter. NINE YEARS. Lord love a great big flying Rodan (who the Japs call Radon) size duck. There'll be some changes with the NL starting next issue and next year, first off the new website address is http://page.suddenlink.net/bitner and my new e-mail address is deathfalcon0@suddenlink.com although it'll be a while before I can figure out how to cancel my msn account (bastards don't make it easy). Also after this issue the NL will come to you looking like the NL (or a "Grateful Dead nightmare" to quote hippie hating Chris) does on the site sans Joe's illustrations. Hope everyone had a good Christmas. Mine wasn't horrible, none of the genuine heartbreak of Christmas '86 or the angst of the first few post divorce or the stress and worry of two years ago, it was just another day. Which is truly sad but still better than it could have been. I didn't exchange gifts other than sending the girls checks- it's what they asked for- Sarah got me two books, Annihilation 2 and Ultimates 3, Rachie got me two shirts, Doctor Doom and Marvel Anniversary and one other thing which I'll be wearing tonight and don't want to give away. Rachel is supposed to come in Monday through Friday starting 1/11, sure hope it works out. Lord only knows when I'll get to see Sarah next, I have that free plane ticket I need to use by March maybe I can use it to fly up to see her. It's not the memories of the bad Christmas' that wear on me, I'm over that shit, it's remembering all the good ones that tear me down. I got like that on my birthday pining over all the extra special birthday treats I used to get from the ex and knowing that realistically I'll never see the like again and its the same with Christmas, not just the "well, it's already late and the kids are going to get us up early so we may as well just screw till then" but also the wonderful sense of family and peace that I used to get on Christmas morning when the girls were little, like maybe the world didn't a. suck and b. wasn't out to get me. As anyone who's done it can tell you there are few things more wonderful than spending Christmas morning with a couple of sweet little kids- and if it comes after a night of banging the brains out of a big titted sex bomb who's doing her best to bang the brains out of you all the better.
My mom was supposed to stay at Lori's from Christmas till today but at the last minute decided she'd just come back with me I swear for no other reason than to be oppositional. Even Lori is losing patience with her. She doesn't have to live with it every day. On a good note Aline got here yesterday, she called the day after Christmas, Denise and Don were going to Ohio for this weekend- Don is from Columbus but I try not to hold it against him- so they dropped Aline off here on the way, will pick her up Sunday. Lovely to have her especially since now I don't have to keep hearing "You can't stay out all night on New Year's Eve". It's not like I'm a fucking adult or anything. Man, I hate it here. Got an e-mail from Sig after my visit, she was talking about Jesse who is just a super neat kid, very bright, very personable and already with a better vocabulary than 95% of the adults who come in the scrapyard and that includes both Ronnie and Nancy, and a coversation of his she overheard while he was talking about me to his friend Gram. First he had to explain to Gram that a cantina was a bar and then- Gram: Why did Bill go in the bar? Dear Lord. I've been called many, many, MANY things in my life but I don't think I've ever been called anything funnier than a drink muffin. (OR MORE ACCURATE) No kidding. She says he's currently on a Three Stooges kick, has been going around the house saying "Come here porkypine." (SOUNDS LIKE OUR KIND OF KID) He really is. Still going through old magazines, I'll skim them before tossing them and if there's anything I really want to keep I'll tear the page out and stick it in this manilla folder reserved for that purpose (so far all that's in there are a random bunch of photos of women with big tits and an old Punk Planet article/interview with Greg Sage), going through one old music mag either a Guitar Player or World there was the sheet music for Jeff Beck's version of "Good Bye Pork Pie Hat" (I wonder where you're at/Hope you're not getting fat) and at the top where they show all the chords you'll need to play the song there were - I counted them- FORTY EIGHT. Fucking please. I don't think there even are 48 chords and if there are you sure as fuck don't need them. I bet you anything you care to lose I can play Goodbye Pork Pie Hat using only G, D and C. Watch me. (LONG AS I DON'T HAVE TO LISTEN TO YOU) Funny. Tearing shit out of magazines reminds me of when I worked at B. Dalton (dinosaurs still roamed the earth) we sold Playboy and Penthouse and on three occasions I was so moved by the Playboy centerfolds that I tore them out of unsold mags on their way back to the distributor- to be destoyed so no harm done- and I found one while going through stuff, Karen Velez, Miss December 1984. Good gravy, I know these women are airbrushed but I thought then and still think now truly she looks too good to be real. She looks like something from a comic book- if you give her blond hair Ms. Marvel to be exact even down to the pose. Joe, why don't you show them what I mean. Karen later went on to marry Lee Majors of all people- (SHE MUST HAVE THOUGHT SIX MILLION DOLLAR MAN REFERRED TO HIS BANK ACCOUNT) -all I can figure. Sitting in my room On that note (ha) I checked the Tang Spoons on you.tube today for the first time in a long while, Orangedriver and Boootlicker and Drunk Every Night are over 100 hits which isn't that many but I don't care, somebody's listening to this stuff. What's Bill been watching? Not a lot, been busy writing, did watch the copy of Legion Joe lent me the other night, not very good. The possessed granny and ice cream man were more ludicrous than creepy and the story didn't make much sense. The guy playing the angel Michael is married to Jennifer Connelly so I'm sure he doesn't care what I think of his movie. What's Bill drinking? Green tea, have stayed off the drink since last issue, if I let my Mom driving me insane be an excuse to get hammered- I know, who needs an excuse?- I'll stay drunk 24/7 which I've come close to many times in the past and I just don't that need right now. Do plan on drinking to excess tonight in a much needed and anticipated blow out where I can just relax and not worry about anyone but Bill. Which is enough to worry about I think any of you will agree. The writing continues to go so well I'm almost afraid to talk about it. This month saw a big boost in sales of Monster- I think Rhonda's been pushing it, God knows my slacker ass really could use an agent/publicist- which couldn't have come at a better time as I have the proof copy of Thing on my desk right now- what my Dad used to refer to as a "dest", Happy New Year in heaven, Dad. It'll be available through Amazon sometime next month, through Bill not long after. We haven't done a poll in here in many years, they were usually a summer thing but I'm going to do one now, these are the titles off the contents page of Thing, write in and tell me which you like best- Adventures In The Sunshine State | We Found It On Venus | Funhouse | From Deep Space | The Little Gods | White Sky | A Time Of Storms | The Fall Of The House Of Stars | Nightmare In Gray | Hothouse Fleur | Avatar | Goliath | The Beasts Of Earth In the obituary column couple old late 80's early 90 midcarders, Mike Shaw (Makhan Singh, Norman the Lunatic, Bastion Booger) and Jorge Gonzales (El Gigante, Giant Gonzales) passed away back in the fall both from being too big, Mike enormously fat and Jorge doing that giant dying young thing. Also, sadly, Gran Naniwa died about a month ago at only 31 from a "myocardial blockage". He was a masked Japanese wrestler mostly for Michinoku Pro who often wore this bizarre crab like outfit complete with claws. Funnny. Bobby told a story about one of his tours with MP when Naniwa was just starting out and one of the veteran Jap wrestlers- what the fuck let's name names, it was Mens Teioh aka Terry Boy for his idolization of Terry Funk though I doubt Terry would be too proud of him- was taking advantage of that strange and unhealthy Japanese unquestioningly bowing to authority thing and sexually abusing Naniwa in the dojo and Naniwa wasn't saying anything cos he figured he was just a worthless rookie and obviously didn't deserve any better. The MP locker room policeman was Dick Togo, this fireplug sized little bruiser- he does a top rope senton it hurts just to watch- and he somehow found out about what Mister Teioh was up to. Bobby said they were on the bus going to a show one afternoon and Togo casually walks down the aisle and when he gets to Teioh he jumps on him and just beats the unholy fuck out of him. Bobby said it was terrible, "If the guy hadn't been a homo rapist I'd a felt sorry for him."
Bobby said they made Teioh work his match that night- he had to crawl off the bus- and the guy he worked that night kicked his ass as well. Bobby said at the venue he asked Togo why he'd jumped Teioh on the bus and he said Togo gave him this evil squinty-eyed Jap look and said "So can't get away." (TOO FUNNY) If you're not Mens Teioh, yeah. (OR GRAN NANIWA) Good point. Anyway RIP to all of them. DFZ worked last night, those damnable Hillbillies again and my back is killing me. (FROM CARRYING THEIR ASSES) Well, that and also the big fucking splash in the corner from 500+ pound JT Hogg that drove that damn metal turnbuckle holder halfway through my spine. Can't bitch, I called the spot trying to get the goof over but I'm paying for it today. For a Hillbillies match it wasn't too bad, I told 'em in the back "No fucking comedy shit", JT didn't like that, he was like "Or what?", I heard him before the match talking about it to his partner Jo Jo Little who I actually like a lot even if he sucks, bright and funny for a wrestler, though if there was truth in advertising he'd be Jo Jo Fatass, saying "I'll do comedy out there if I want," Jo Jo's sensible response being, "I wouldn't." And they didn't and Shane and I actually gave them stuff cos we weren't pissed off at their goofy comedy schtick and it was the best match by far they've had in MWA. Now it's time for those three magic words. (MEXICAN STRIPPER WHORES?) Close. DFZ. Mexico. February. DFZ, Shane Storm, Allen Lynch, maybe Viper and maybe Freebird Bryan Cross (and sometimes Y and W) are heading south on Valentines Day, booked in San Carlos 2/18, Guaymas 2/19 where the main event will be Aztec Vs. DFZ, mano a Death Falcon, two out of three falls. May be able to pick up another match while on Mexico, same with Alabama and Florida on the way back but the ones on 2/18. 2/19 are solid. (DUDE- WE'RE GOING TO HAVE TO WORK ON OUR CARDIO) I know some Mexican stripper whores who'll help us with that. (DUDE) The Guaymas Royal Men's Club story never made it to the newsletter which is probably for the best but I have a short clip from it Danny took that I'll send to Joe so you can see where Bill did his real Mexican wrestling. And plans to again. In last year's NYE edition I made mention of the killer pop tart cos my Mom had been talkling about it during Christmas at Lori's that year, and then never got around to telling the story. It's only been a year but still, without further ado- The Killer Pop Tart Pretty much from the time she was able to walk I was given the job as baby sitter to my younger sister Lori. Is it in esssence cruel and unfair to both of them to make a young kid responsible for his five years younger sister? Of course it is. Did my Mom give a shit? Of course she didn't. Kept her from having to do it. Thing is she wanted me to behave like a little girl for Lori's benefit and safety- "Billy, don't you be taking your little sister-" fill in the blank here, which was anywhere beside the damn front and back yards. "Yeah, sure Ma," and she'd go back inside and off I'd go on whatever adventure that day would happen to hold, knowing full well the end of it would include a spanking from my Dad when he got home for "misbehaving" as reported by my Mom- you know sometimes it amazes me that I didn't turn out to be a mass fucking murderer. (IT'S NOT TOO LATE) I tried to get Lori to play with kids of her own age and sex and sometimes she would but for the most part she followed me around like that damn Cooper does- she worshipped the ground I walked on which is completely understandable but a royal pain in the ass for Billy nonetheless. I cut her zero slack- "if you can't keep up, I don't care, go play fucking dolls or something, I ain't got time for cry babies"- and more often than not she kept up. So she grew up pretty much a little thug which I'm sure is amazing to anyone who knows her now but true all the same. By the way I could abuse her but you'd best not. One morning a
bunch of us were going on a long bike ride (which I planned on
turning into Bike Wars as soon as we came across some other kids on
bikes) and I'm pumping up a tire on Lori's bike. Sammy Ahern was
there, he'd only moved into the neighborhood- Camp Springs Forest- a
few weeks before and he wasn't too keen on the idea of Lori riding
along with us- I wasn't fucking either but I had no say in the
matter- so he kind of shoves her and says "Why don't you go back
inside?" It wasn't a particularly hard shove but I guess it didn't
have to be cos the next he (and I for that matter) knew I'd laid his
ass out with the tire pump. That was the problem with Billy (the
King) pre- electro shock, there was just no impulse control AT ALL.
It wasn't like if you pissed me off I'd neccesarily go looking for a
tire pump or a shovel or a big fucking stick to hit you with- not
every time, anyway- but if I happened to have one in my hand when
you pissed me off- whammo. Sammy's lying there with a huge purple
knot rising up on his forehead, tears leaking out of his eyes, the
other kids are all going "Saw that one coming" and Lori leans over
Sammy and goes "We ain't got time for cry babies."
I was so proud. So, one day summer '68, Lori had just turned seven, Stevie Hayes, who lived directly across the street from us on Acorn Court, also seven and quite possibly never to see eight, comes out of his house with a two pack of Pop-tarts. I couldn't stand the little fucker, he looked like a damn clown, Bozo orange hair mercifully crew cut short, a bazillion freckles, perpetually snotty nose, his pants always about half falling off but it was it was the fact that he was a damn annoying little moron turd that made me hate him, he wasn't just Howdy Doody ugly but both stupid and goofy beside and worst of all a shitting little tattle tale. When it was none of his goddamn business. "Mrs. Bitner I saw Billy down by the creek, Mrs. Bitner Billy punched David Baltz in the stomach, Mrs. Bitner I heard Billy call Mrs. Desilet a fucking bitch." Only thing that saved his life was that I really liked his Dad Commander Hayes, only Navy guy in the court- the rest were all Air Force we being within walking distance of Andrews AFB, my Dad was the only civilian "only smart one in the bunch" he used to say and laugh his ass off- till the maniacal Major Schwartz moved out next door and Commander Flynn moved in with his unbelievably hot daughter Carol, she was sunning out in their yard one time in a white bikini that had every male in the neighborhood from infants to geezers unconsciously and uncontrollably drooling like Pavlov's dogs. I will never forget that sight as long as I live. Back to Commander Hayes, he was a nice guy, good natured and friendly, would always wave at me when he pulled in in the evening where most of the adults would scowl at me or spit. My Dad liked him as well, he'd come over sometimes and have a beer with the old man and I'd tell him my plan for winning the Vieit Nam war- "See, we just need to kill ALL OF 'EM and then the war's over" and I figured if I murdered his son it would come between us so I never did. But God knows I wanted to. So, Stevie comes out with his Pop-tarts and comes and stands right on top of me and Lori where I'm drawing Mon-el fighting a flying saucer and a robot at the same time on the curb with chalk and Lori is wacthing me. This was the height of 60's bad manners as we were always taught if you didn't have enough to go around you ate it inside. So Lori starts in, "Share your Pop-tarts, Stevie," he keeps saying no. This goes on long enough for me to draw Mon-el punching the death ray that the flying saucer is shooting at him into the robot and Stevie to finish the first Pop-tart, I look up to see him hold out the second one like he's going to give it to Lori- and then he crams the whole damn thing into his mouth and gives Lori this snide "fuck you " giggle. About two seconds later Lori has him by the throat and is going to throttle that fucking Pop-tart right out of him- which would have been a good thing. Stevie manages to get away and run to his yard where Lori tackles him and throws him on his back and starts pounding on him in a scene so reminscent of Ralphie beating up the bully I tihnk we should sue, even down to the incoherent swearing- "I- just- wanted- a- FUCKING -BITE- of- your -FUCKING- POP-TART- you -FUCKING-" . This from my seven year old little sister. Once again i was so proud. Mrs. Hayes I guess heard the commotion cos she comes to the front door, yells, "Stevie, what have I told you about fighting with girls!", and then just goes back inside. I'm thinking, if you didn't tell him he was going to get killed you were lying.
Lori: He's dead! About that time it dawned on me- that somebody else would inevitably somehow turn around to be Billy. Shit, I already had the reputation. "Stevie, she was just kidding," I said and I haul him to his knees and start slamming him in the back between the shoulder blades which back in those pre-Heimlich days was what they said to do for a choking person. As on too many occasions to count someone was again looking out for our hero- even though this time I'd done absolutely nothing wrong- and after a few enthusiastic hammer fists to the back a big clot of partially masticated Pop-tart plops out of Stevie Hayes cake hole and he start this combined moaning and crying thing. I figured that meant he was going to live- dammit- so I got on my bike and rode off- Lori was still all shook up by her near brush with homicide so she went back in the house and up to her room- cos I figured the shit was going to hit the fan and I didn't want it to get on me. Not that it didn't anyway. I wasn't privy to the version Mrs. Hayes gave my Mom when she came over to talk about it but my Mom's take on it when my Dad got home that night? "Billy tried to get Lori to kill Stevie Hayes today with a Pop-tart." My Dad looked at me, looked at my Mom, then back at me where I was slowly moving my finger in circles around my temple in the univeral symbol for "She's fucking nuts." My Dad heaved a weary sigh, muttered, "I'm not touchng this one," and went upstaris to get out of his work clothes and no doubt hit the bottle he kept not so well hidden in his sock drawer. That's it for this issue and this year. I'm going to go do a little yoga (cheers, Jean) and try and stretch out this sore, sore back, then take a long hot shower and go spend a wonderful New Years Ever with my friends. I with all of you an evening as pleasant. Your last words for the year? (LIVE STRONG, LIVE LONG) Good luck with that. Art is long, time is fleeting Later This is Bill Bitner, Drink Muffin, signing off for another year.
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If you don't think too well, don't think too much- Ted Williams
I know the healthy attittude would be instead of crying over shit
that's gone to just be happy and thankful that I once had it at all
and I tell myself that but I've never been good at listening, to
myself or anyone else. I think Ralph, the geezer I got Cooper- you
know, my son- from said it well, he came by the yard right before
Christmas and he and Nancy were talking, they've both lost their
spouses in the past few years, they were saying how different
Christmas was for them now and Ralph said "I don't let memory
destroy me." Good for you Ralph, Wish I knew your secret. 
(WELL THERE YOU GO) 
Stevie's still got a whole Pop-tart in his mouth and every time
he'd try to spit out that blob of Pop-tart mush Lori would hit him
in the mouth and drive it back in, so hard his eyes would bug out.
I'm laughing so hard I'm about to piss when I notice Stevie has quit
trying to squirm out from under Lori. And his face is getting blue.
She's pounded that damn Pop-tart down into hs windpipe. Hell, maybe
his lungs. About the time I notice Lori does too. She jumps up
crying- 
