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2/1/05 Red Right Hand
Hey Well, I finally found out what would get more reader response than screwing some college girl while she's wearing the Death Falcon mask, and that's damn near killing myself. Last issue has now replaced "Hammered" in reader response. First off, your outpouring of concern has been very moving. I'm being serious here, not sarcastic, in case you were wondering. Since last issue I've heard from people I haven't heard from in years, which has been nice, and a couple of you that I do hear from regularly, I didn't know you cared- not that much, anyway- so that's been really nice to know as well. I also found out that some people who I know personally are reading this thing, who I didn't know were reading it. It's a small damn world (and transient, believe me). I don't want to beat this car wreck thing to death but I do again want to emphasize, I was NOT driving drunk, and I DIDN'T do it on purpose, either through some misguided attempt to do myself in, or out of some bizarre thrill seeking behavior (which my damn Dad, of all people, accused me of, going all the way back to cite the time I ran this go-cart he built me into a parked bulldozer at a very high rate of speed, just for the fucking hell of it. I didn't get hurt then either, although the go-cart practically exploded, two by fours and plywood everywhere, I went flying up and over one of its treads, if I'd impacted directly into the dozer I'd have flattened out like a piece of Silly Putty. My Dad, quite rightfully, spanked the living bejeezus out of me for being so fucking crazy- although as he and I both found out over the years, you just can't beat crazy out of a child- as well as for deliberately wrecking something he put so much effort into building for me, I think he's still mad at me for it, it was all he could do to keep from spanking me again the other day).
I'm fine, physically, I think I might've been concussed from busting out that window with my head bone, cos I don't remember a single thing about the day after the wreck, and I was pretty headachey for days afterward, the cut in my hand is healing nicely- Neosporin is the shit, if they ever need someone to do a commercial for them- "If you're ever trapped in an upside down car and have to bust your way out with a barbed wire baseball bat and cut your hand on the glass"- I'm right there. Unfortunately, there's been no spiritual awakening, I haven't seen the light, or gotten right with the Lord, brother, as a number of people have exhorted me to do. Which is not to say I'm not grateful, I've gone back and looked at the site where I went over the hill, that tree I hit, you can go fifty feet on either side of it and there's nothing that would've kept that car out of the water, so SOMETHING aimed me just right. And I do appreciate it, which I make note of now every night when I say my prayers. Yeah, my prayers, I've said them every night- except when I'm too drunk to remember to- since I was a little, little boy. I admit I'm not exactly sure who I'm praying to, but that doesn't bother me, it shouldn't bother you. The insurance guy totaled the Saturn, but I haven't seen a check yet, some lady from State Farm called last Friday wanting to know what the mileage on the Saturn was, which the adjustor should've checked himself, she got a little snippy with me when I brought that up, so- and here's where once again being a fucking smart ass has come back to bite Bill on the ass- B: I can give you an approximation on the mileage. Some people got no sense of fucking humor. (AND SOME PEOPLE GOT TOO MUCH). Touche. Little girl, it's a great big world So- what's been up with Bill? Went over to Doug and Rosa's for the first time since last Spring (for the millionth time, where does the time GO?), watched movies and drank beer and ate Atomic Buffalo turds- jalapeno peppers cut in half and stuffed with cream cheese and barbecue and then wrapped in bacon. They were- interesting. But ultimately addictive. A funny- but not really "Ha Ha" funny- thing was that their dog Maggie- who I've been around before, and who always liked me- was absolutely scared to death of me/hated me the other night. Her hair stood all on end, and she'd bark whenever I'd move. We joked about how I'd actually died in the crash, but after a while it quit being funny, and sort of got creepy. Maggie never did make up to me, she was still walking all stiff legged around me, and barking her little doggie ass off, the next morning before I left. What did we watch? Well, considering, we should have watched "Carnival Of Souls", but instead we watched "Dodgeball", which I had to for my scriptwriting class (more- much more- on that later), it sucked, although the scene where the guy is throwing wrenches was pretty funny, "A Mighty Wind", a folk rock take on Spinal Tap, which was funny, if you haven't seen it I recommend it, and the stupidly and blandly titled "The Clearing", with Robert Redford looking about a thousand years old, and Willem Dafoe looking like his usual ugly self, and it also sucked, one of those that when it's over you think "Why the fuck did they even make this?" Doug and Rosa also gave me the expanded version of "Spinal Tap", which was very cool of them, let's not make it so long before we get together again.
She said that Al (he signed my book, we're practically best friends now) said that his training is all in theater, not cooking- no surprise there. And that "W", who works in the cookware store on the show, is actually named Vicki and she's a chiropractor. And Alton doesn’t like Bobby Flay any more than the rest of us. I got your inside dish right here, Rachael Rae. As for my red haired- no, I mean RED haired, again, check out the picture- spawn, Rachel, she's going to beat her Daddy to Australia. She's not going over there to wrestle, like I was gonna, but she is going over there for three weeks this summer to, I'm sure, have a great time. It's funny how her life sort of parallels mine, I moved from Maryland to WV at 13, she moved from WV to Maryland at 13, I went on an overseas trip at 15, now she's going on . . . hey, wait a minute. Rachel, YOU'RE NOT GOING!
My Dad was doing his insane philosophizing the other day, got around to women- not at my prompting, trust me- and he goes, "Yeah, women . . . you gotta have 'em, but sometimes . . . they're like having a wad of gum stuck in your hair." B: They're like WHAT? Jesus. He KILLS me. What's Bill drinking? Had to be in Institute Sunday, so I went on over to the Dunbar Kroger and picked up a case of PBR, got into it last night- although it has still been a VERY dry year so far- and I'm feeling it today, so I'm back into it, what the hell. I got nothing else I need to do today, anyway.
Four songs in particular, in fact I've programmed them into the CD player and have listened to them straight about 30 times, something I've always done with songs I like that used to drive my Dad MAD when I still lived at home, "STOP PLAYING THAT DAMN SONG!!!!" and which the girls both do, and which drives their mother mad. Good girls. Anyway, I love "Red Right Hand" this slinky number that, lyrically, would make a great Death Falcon song, "Nobody's Baby Now", a forlorn love lost kind of thing with great, evocative lines like "Though I try to lay her ghost down/She's moving through me even now", well done, Nick, also a couple of love songs- I'm a wimp ass sucker for a good love song- "Into My Arms"- he sounds very John Cale-ish on this, with the simple piano and deep voice, and that is one fucking romantic song, once again, well done, Nick- and "(Are You) The One That I've Been Waiting For?". So, thanks for the loan, dear, I need to get Joe to copy some of these songs onto a CD for me, and I'll get them back to you. I ordered some more books and CDs over the internet but they haven't gotten here yet- if they even do, the last bunch never did- I was in Borders the other day with Kat, picked up a couple CDs and a book, "A Wizard, A True Star" by Todd Rundgren (for $9.99, SSSLB), not his best, but it does have the great "Sometimes I Don't Know What To Feel" (I'm with ya, Todd) and the "I'm So Proud/Ooh Baby Baby/La La Means I Love You" medley, the first two of which are two of the finest slow dancing- a disappearing art, it seems, which is a shame, if you've never fallen in love out on the dance floor with the girl of your dream's head on your shoulder, or pressed against your chest, well, I feel very sorry for you-you know, for all the shit, I have lived a WONDERFUL life- songs out there. Also got a Rezillos best of, they were this Scottish punk band- although they were actually more pop punk, before that became a bad word, at least to me- that I doubt anyone else has ever heard of, I was amazed to find the CD, myself. They had that choppy punk style rhythm guitar that I like so well, with pop type melodies on top, some fine originals like "Flying Saucer Attack", "Culture Shock" and "Destination Venus" ("more than darkness lies between us") but they also did some great British Invasion covers, DC 5's "Glad All Over", The Kinks "I Need You", "I Like It", the liner notes say by Freddy And The Dreamers, nice try, it was actually Gerry And The Pacemakers, and the marvelously titled "Somebody's Gonna Get Their Head Kicked In Tonight" by, of all bands, Fleetwood Mac. This would be by the old 3 guitar Peter Green's Fleetwood Mac, not the one with Stevie "I look pretty hot if this is 1977, but I still sing like a fucking goat" Nicks.
But I think all the praise went to Alan's fucking head, as it's wont to do, he branched off into music and magic and shit, still, I like reading about crazy creative people. Also picked up a Psychotronic at Borders, which means it's time for that sad section of these things, the obits. Frampton Comes Alive- not. A while back I told you about the drummer on that record, John Siomos, dying. Now the keyboardist and second guitar player on the album, Bob Mayo- shit, Joe, BOB MAYO- has died, at 52, of a fucking heart attack. Shit. Other deaths of note- to me, anyway- former Rams star Elroy "Crazylegs" Hirsch (anybody nicknamed Crazylegs is okay by me)- Joyce Jillson, I know you've never heard of her, but she used to take her top off (right about the time I was taking Marsena's top off) in all those old drive in movies I used to go see in high school, kidney failure at age 58, Killer Kane, bassist for the NY Dolls, he lived a lot longer than I expected him to, leukemia at 55, Terry Knight, who used to manage Grand Funk and write their unintentionally hilarious liner notes, stabbed to death at 61 defending his daughter from her boyfriend, he was a shitter who ripped GF off bad, but he probably deserved better than that- unless her boyfriend was Mark Farner, then, what goes around comes around- John McGeoch, guitarist with Magazine (he played on "Shot By Both Sides"- ah hell, I'm sure you don’t remember it) and Siouxsie and the Banshees, he died in his sleep at a very young 48, Robert Quine, I hate to hear this one, he was a very neat guy, former guitarist for Richard Hell and Lou Reed, despondent over the recent death of his wife, he OD'd at 61, and Paul Winfield, who died a while ago, but did you know he was gay? I didn't. But we all do now, you’re OUTTED Paul, you poor dead bastard. (BILL BITNER, WRESTLER AND ASPIRING FILMMAKER, CAR CRASH AT 48). You're not funny. (HEY, I HEARD IT FROM DOUG AND ROSA'S DOG). You're still not funny. I was also struck by the number of suicides listed- Brian Bianchini, male model and actor, 25, Dave Blood, former bass player with the Dead Milkmen (no shit), 47, Robert Burns- no, not that one- commercial artist and set designer, 61, Eric Douglas- Kirk's son, Mike's bro, and Katherine Zeta Jones brother in law- at 46, Nafisa Joseph, Miss India of 1997, at 25, what's up with THAT?, Phillippe Lemaire, Frog actor, he jumped under a Paris subway train, good for him, he shoulda drug a couple more Frogs with him, at 77, Jonathan Raize, Broadway musical star who also did voice overs for Disney, at 28, Drake Sather, comedy writer for SNL among others, at 44, and Rebecca Steele, porn star, at 42. Maybe it's just me, but that seems like an awful lot of people doing themselves in.
Gone to a couple of Danny's scriptwriting classes at State, and I fucking LOVE it. Not the class itself so much, I disagree whole heartedly with a lot of the formulaic approach to scriptwriting that the class teaches, but it's cool to be back in school- though admittedly not enrolled- and hanging out with some neat people. Curtis, the DF director, is in it, and Ritchie, this Tanzanian friend of Danny's, and a bunch of other very intelligent and creative people. And in such a déjà vu feeling it's creepy, I've already been out with the second best looking girl in class. And the best looking girl in class hates my guts. In addition to watching "Dodgeball", which everyone had to see, Danny also wanted us to go to the theater between classes week one and two, and see a movie of our choice. I'd already picked a seat in class next to this cute young girl, Amy, I thought, turns out it's Abby, whatever, we were talking about what movie we were going to see, and I said, "You want to go see one together?" mostly because it's pro forma for me more than anything else, and she startled the hell out of me by saying "Yes". She's pretty damn young, like 23, young. Still, it was purely platonic, we met there, no messing around during the movie (although she did talk a lot during it, it was like being at the movies with RACHEL- God, I miss those kids), we didn't go anywhere afterward. What did we see? "Assault On Precinct 13", maybe if you’d never seen the first one it might be okay, I didn't like it, I don't care how many times Laura tells me it got good reviews. I was just going to leave things at that, but Abby made a point to come and sit next to me next class- we had to switch rooms- and also made a point of letting everyone in class know we'd been to the movies together, which caused Danny to roll his eyes, and then after class give me a- lecture is too strong a word, I guess it was a "talk"- about staying "focused". B: I am focused, Danny. On pussy. Twenty four seven. I'm not really, but I like messing with him. I said, I'm NOT. Really. Abby let me know last class what a party girl she is, I suggested we "party" together sometime, she said absolutely. So there may be another blue eyed blond college girl in a Death Falcon mask coming (ha) soon to these pages. As for the prettiest girl in class, she's this very intense, very full of herself 30-ish single Mom with a chip on her shoulder against the world that makes mine look non-existent. She was handing out fliers first class for this spoken word open mike night- if you ever hear one of these referred to as a "poetry slam", run, do not walk, to the nearest exit- that she's talked the Empty Glass into holding the last Tuesday of every month, she was trying to get people to show up for the first one, Tuesday the 25th, everyone wants a big crowd opening night, that's cool, so I told her I'd come to her poetry thing if she'd come see me wrestle. She said something disparaging about wrestling, I said, "Yeah, it'd probably be over your fucking head, anyway" and the love affair was on. I went up there Tuesday night anyway, I've been meaning to get out more, and Danny's wanting me to get out and start hyping the DF movie in places just like the Glass, so I figured what the hell. Crystal saw me and just went off, "What the hell are you doing here, you just came up here to heckle and make fun, blah blah, woof woof". ME? Come on. I tried to get her to sit with me, "Hey, if you're sitting here I won't say a word, I swear. And if I do you can smack me. Please", but she wasn't buying, she's one of those damn females resistant to the Bitner charm that I seem to be running into more and more. She was finally getting on my nerves- hell, I showed up to SUPPORT her ass, dammit, I didn’t need or deserve her fucking attitude- so I said "You know what, forget it, you couldn't sit with me anyway." Thankfully, she bit, and asked, "Why not?" B: Cos then you’d have to PULL THAT STICK OUTTA YOUR FUCKING ASS! I honestly thought she was going to hit me. I hung around for a while anyway, a lot of the "spoken word" stuff sounded like bad rap, or is that redundant, some of it was just too sensitive to live, but some of it was pretty good. Still, I'd go again, and plan to. Crystal never got up to recite while I was there, just kept giving me these hate looks. Which she continued to give me next class. Danny noticed, and we were talking about her after class, as part of our "talk", and he noted (cos he's known her for a couple years) "Crystal hates everybody. But I have to say, I think she hates you most". I do too. And believe me, this isn't lust, or like, or even interest, hiding behind hate. This is fucking hate. Whatever, it's her fucking loss, goddamn ill natured cunt that she is. And I was going to let her be in the Death Falcon movie, too. Getting her pea brain fucked out. However, I've saved the best for last. Danny is getting out of making movies- he's made that clear ever since I've met him, and only the fact that he absolutely loves the whole DF movie concept- this is him talking, not me- has gotten him to participate in making this first DF movie. He honestly thinks I have an extremely bright future in film- writing, acting, directing, whatever the fuck I want to do- and in order to help foster that, he wants to hook me up with some of his film making buddies. In Prague. I met one of them, Robert, at Danny's wedding. I don't recall him having an accent, so I don't know if he's an American living and working over there, or if he's Czech-I was telling Joe the other day, I met all kinds of locals in Holland that spoke perfect, unaccented English- or something else. Anyway, Danny and Robin are going over there for their spring break in March, and they've asked me to come along. How fucking cool is THAT? Robert wants me to bring him some treatments- basically these are proposals studios look at to decide if they want to back the film, they have a certain format you have to follow, Danny sent me the software for it just today. I'm working on three, one for "Drains" obviously- and how fucking AWESOME would a "Down In The Drains" movie be- one for a second Death Falcon movie- Robert, also, thinks the DF masked wrestler movie idea is great, well DUH, and one, if I get it done in time, called "Peacemaker"- I know there was a recent movie with that title, I'll have to change it, it's just a working title- about this hero soldier type guy, who's chosen to undergo this Captain America like process to transform him into the perfect super soldier, the ultimate superhuman weapon. This guy is a genuinely good man, brave and loyal and compassionate and he's seen it all, and is just sick of it, he HATES war, and violence, and all that shit, and he tells himself- and his wife, the love of his life, she's a real important part of the story - okay, what better person to be given this power, because I know from experience just how evil and shitty war is, I'll use this power the right way. So he undergoes the procedure- and it drives him completely and irrevocably insane, and he becomes this brutal, ultraviolent war loving killing machine, the exact thing he- and again, his treasured wife- hate most in this world. I won't tell you how it ends- although you can probably guess it doesn't end happy- but I think it could make a really good, really moving, film. Let me know what you think. Anyway, I'm going to Prague with Danny from March 18th through the 25th, drop off my stuff, Robert's going to look at it, if I like Prague, and Robert likes my stuff- and what's not to fucking like?!- the plan is for me to maybe move to Prague this fall after the Death Falcon movie is finished, and go to work for Robert and his company, scriptwriting and acting. That's all in the future- although keep your fingers crossed for me- but the March trip is in stone, and that should be some big fun if nothing else, I know a number of people who've been to Prague and I've never heard a bad word about it. (LET ME TELL YOU WHAT. WE DO MOVE TO EUROPE, WE'RE GONNA TEAR THAT CONTINENT A NEW FUCKING ASSHOLE).
(WE'LL FUCK THEM DAMN BLONDES BALD HEADED). We'll hit Amsterdam- (PARIS). Paris? (I WANNA PISS ON THE EIFFEL TOWER). You got it. Shit, you can drive from the continent to Britain now- although I'm not so sure how I'll like a great big underwater tunnel- (WE'LL GET DRUNK AND LET SOMEONE ELSE DRIVE). Good thinking. We'll go back to London, shit, London, how much fun have we had THERE- (I'VE NEVER BEEN). Sorry, I forgot. Then we'll head on up to Inverness and drink some Scotch with Terry, you'll like him. Fucking hell, and we'll finance all this big living by MAKING MOVIES. What a sweet ass fucking scam. If this works out, it's gonna be GREAT. (YOU BETTER START DRIVING MORE CAREFULLY). No shit. I had some more stuff to say, but it's getting late, and I'm cross eyed drunk. Absolutely make sure you come to see me and Falconette Anita put a stomping on Unholy at the next XMCW show February 12, Falcon Death Drop guaranteed. GUARANTEED, I say. I don't give a shit at this point if the chickenshit mother fucker rolls off the table and bails, I'm coming off the top on the 12th and GOING THROUGH. Double your money back if I don't. Sleep tight. Later Bill
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You're
one microscopic cog in his catastrophic plan 
So,
it was an accident, plain and simple, just another case of Bill driving
along with his head in the damn clouds, which is where it spends most of
its time, this time unfortunately on a road absolutely slick as glass,
going "Wonder if there's life on Mars? Wonder if it has big tits?
Wonder WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING UPSIDE DOWN?!"
As
for my sweetie pies in Baltimore, Sarah met Alton Brown at a book signing-
pictures on the site- and she said he was just the coolest guy ever, which
was great to hear, I hate it when someone you think is great on TV turns
out to be an asshole. She said he was just nice as all hell, clever and
charming and witty- good for you Alton. Good for you. Sarah bought her
Daddy a cookbook and had Alton sign it. How cool is that?
For
some reason that's reminded me of some other letters I've gotten since the
last one of these, commenting on my "liberation". It was nothing
so overtly dramatic as any of you have posited, I just walked away from a
no win- for me- situation before it could get any worse, simple as that.
Which, admittedly, is far, FAR more sense than I normally show. However,
if you're looking for any mud to be slung- and admit it, you were- look
elsewhere. Cos I think you can find it being slung, you're just not going
to find me doing it.
What's
Bill listening to? Anita and I have recently started exchanging CDs (she
likes the Wipers, Agent Orange, AND Davie Allen and the Arrows, that's
some phenomenally good taste, girl) she lent me a couple Nick Cave CDs. I
wasn't so sure at first, cos I more know OF him, than his work, and he can
be a pompous dick in interviews. He does a lot of this gloomy doomy stuff
in a deep voice- like I'm singing in right now, even though you can't
actually hear me- Anita really likes "Murder Ballads" which I
can see, some good stuff on it, but I hear murder ballads in my head all
the time, seriously, so I like the greatest hits CD better.
Bought
a book about Alan Moore, he's this crazy ass Brit guy used to write just
phenomenal comics, amazingly great stuff- he wrote the comics that the
"League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen" and "From Hell"
movies were based on, but they’re hardly his best work,
"Miracle" (nee) "Marvelman" was so fucking good it was
INSANE, also The Watchmen- Who Watches The Watchmen, in fucking deed- has
also been raved about in these pages, I loved it, and, after the Hal
Jordan Green Lantern (and according to that computer fuck, Doctor Doom),
the comic character I was most born to play was the Watchmen's Comedian,
he compensated for his lack of super powers by being meaner than cat shit-
and carrying a shotgun. And his leather bondage mask was the coolest ever.
"A
life left unexplored is a life not worth living". Who said that? One
of those Greek butt lovers- what?!- I think it was Plato, but don't quote
me. But I do agree with him. On the quote, not the butt loving.
You
better damn believe it. We'll go EVERYWHERE. Italy, Austria, Germany,
DENMARK, fucking hell, SWEDEN!!
