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2/19/07 One Thing Leads To Another
Hey Sorry I've been away for so long (although maybe you're not), a full three weeks, but the fact is, I've been sick. Like damn sick, like, what the fuck is going on here sick. It's just been one thing after another all at once, intermittant fever, ripping (non hangover) headaches, stomach cramps, muscle aches (I feel like I fell off a cliff- which I've done before, by the way), lifeless and lethargic- (LETHARGIC? HOW COULD YOU TELL?) -somebody's been sticking an invisible spear in my side up under the ribs- (RIGHT WHERE THEY GOT JESUS). -exactly, also, more fucking heart shenanigans, it'll rev up to hummingbird speed for no fucking reason I can tell, then suddenly drop back to sea slug (about two beats per minute), I'm getting kind of tired of that shit- kill me?, nah, fuck no, its just a fucking nuisance, like most of the rest of this mother fucking world- the weirdest thing is for about two days the palms of my hands got real fucking sensitive, just to touch them to anything hurt like hell, trying to pick up something, forget it, they were so tender it actually hurt to hold the steering wheel to drive . . . then it just went away. How bizarre is that? I'll tell you how sick I've been, I've even been too sick to drink, went two weeks and two days without so much as a beer, I'm drinking tonight for the first time since two weeks ago last Friday, Rolling Rock, going down kind of hard to tell the truth, but I know the cure for that. (JUST KEEP DRINKING?) Absolutely. Don't know if all this ill health is still a reaction from going off the speed (say no to drugs, kids), or if being sped up all the time just masked something else wrong with me (to quote John Doe, "What's wrong with me? It ain't none of your goddamn business", and I've had blood work done, it's not an infection of any kind) but either way, hopefully I'll start feeling better soon. (OR DIE). Can't. We still got 40 years left on our Sissonville Gypsy warranty. So, once more into the breach, dear friends. The mail bag hasn't been too active lately, no more amateur analyists wanting to take their shot at Cloud William, but I do want to clarify for those couple of you who were confused by last issue, no, I didn't have another car wreck, that was just a metaphor for fast living being brought to an abrupt end- or rather an abrupt wake up call that it should end, or at least slow down- by my heart problems, sorry if I wasn't clear about that (although I thought I was). And while I'm on, or near, the subject, the next thng I'm swearing off of after drugs, is bringing home women I meet in bars (while on drugs). Story at the end of this issue. I'm not gonna get too sentimental Missed Valentine's Day this year, I hope those of you romantically inclined were good to your sweethearts, those of you who aren't so inclined, you'd better watch your step or you'll end up old and alone. Seriously. On the home front, my Mom is doing way shitty, for doing so well up through the new year, she's really crashed and burned since then, she's terribly depressed- fuck, I miss him too, a lot- I can hardly get her out of her bedroom, she sits up there in that chair and watches TV and shuffles papers for days at a time. She went from a Sunday through Friday a few weeks ago in the same pajamas, never got dressed, only came out of her room to get something from the refrigerator and take it back up to her room to eat, or to use the bathroom, finally Friday afternoon I got her to take a shower and get dressed- how? "Hey, take a SHOWER for Christ's sake, you stink. And put some clothes on". I'm sorry, but if you talk nice to my Mom, she ignores you. Sort of like her son. It's a Bitner thing. Then I took her shopping- a true ordeal, I wanted to shoot myself ten minutes in, but it got her out of the house- and then out to eat, it helped for a while, but she was back in her funk soon enough. She's at Lori's this weekend, coming back maybe Tuesday, hopefully that'll do her some good. Part of her problem is she's spending too much time here alone, I've been at Al's a lot recently, he's not doing so well, either. He's still crapping himself silly, and as Phyllis so accurately puts it, "Don't nobody's doo doo stink like Al's doo doo." Amen, sister. I think she actually tries to clean Al up when he does his business in his drawers, which is nuts, I make him get in the shower and scrub his own ass. Which is still no picnic. Al's also pretty non verbal now, and surly more often than not when he is talking, although he can still be entertaining, as we'll get into later. And he's still got Robby pegged, Robby joined us for breakfast the other day (we're at IHoP now, Robby already having gotten bombed out on Granny K's), Al saw him and said "Here comes trouble with a flat head." Phyllis has Robby's number as well, she was complaining about Robby's goofy ass Sunday before last, she said "He don't act like he's grown.' No, he don't. February's been a rough month so far, but I haven't been laid up every day, so, what's Bill been up to? Went over to Africa Mike's for dinner and beer two Fridays ago, Danny came over as well, drank some whiskey beer Mike got in Tennessee (I think), wish I'd written down the name of it cos I've forgotten- I have NOT been with it lately- it was beer with a shot of whiskey in it, didn't like it at first but it grew on me, also drank some home brew IPA Mike put up that was really good. Mike had edited the Prague and Africa footage for the DFZ movie, so we watched that, the sound on the Prague footage was bad but fixable, but it all looked good (DFZ loves the camera and the camera loves DFZ). I've gone out with Sally twice since last issue, we met for drinks during the week, then went out to dinner the following Saturday. Haven't seen her since, cos I've been sick, but I've talked to her a few times. Not sure where this is going, she's very nice, but reserved, maybe too reserved for our boy Bill, but we'll see. She did say she found me "charming", yeah, that's what they all say at first, "Ooh, Bill, I've never met anyone like you,", then, before you know it, its "And I hope I never do again!". And I haven't changed a bit. Robby told me something kind of bizarre- he's a lying sack of shit, but he swore this was the truth- he ran into Sally after we'd gone out, asked what she'd been doing, she said "I went out with my boyfriend Saturday", he was like "You've got a boyfriend? Then why the hell are you stringing Bill along?" and she supposedly said, "Robby, Bill IS my boyfriend". Yow. Although, again, Robby is a lying motherfucker- he DON'T act like he's grown- so who knows. Again, besides himself, what's Bill been watching?
The other night, though, they were about 60 miles off the coast of Mexico spearfishing for tuna with this big ass speargun and cable, no fucking way, blue water diving with just a snorkel doesn't appeal to me that much anyway, but then going after tuna? Have I already said, no fucking way? The problem with diving around tuna is that often where there are tuna there are sharks- big, pelagic sharks. Like makos, which the US Navy handbook rates a 5 on a scale of 1 to 5, with 5 being most dangherous, and notes "move so fast when attacking, defensive measures are often impossible" and oceanic whitetips, also a 5, and the only shark Jacques Cousteau was afraid of- he'd dive with great whites- and which he refused to let any of his crew swim with, because of his conviction that they would attack humans in the water without warning or provocation. And their tuna hunting technique- Jesus. Tuna are too big to just be speared and hauled in, so you shoot the fucker and the spear, instead of being connected to your gun, is attached to this big cable with a bunch of floats/brakes on it- sort of like the barrels on the lines they shot into Jaws. After you shoot the tuna, you swim along behind it till it tires enough for you to pull it in. Good lord- swimming along behind a big bleeding tuna, so any shark following its blood trail comes right up your ass. I get chills just thinking about it, seriously. Do they address any of this on the show? Only to mention its possible to "encounter" big sharks around tuina. Let one of 'em encounter you in fucking half, let's see how cavalier you are about it. Also been watching Dogfights on the History Channel, but I can't watch it with Al, cos he thinks it's real and gets upset- "Look at that, that man just got killed!". I keep trying to tell him it's just animation, but he won't believe me. It was on the other afternoon, Phantoms mixing it up with Migs in '72, when Al goes, "You know what? That wasn't necessary, any of it." There you go. In six words Al sums up the Viet Nam War about as well as you can do it. Also got a laggard entry in the hottest Food Network cook contest, you're only about a month too late, but his vote was for Nigella Lawson, and he wondered why I never mentioned her in here. Well, because before today I'd never watched her show, I'd seen the commercials, but 1 pm on Sunday is really not prime TV viewing time for Bill. However, I made it a point to watch her today while waiting for Kat to pick me up, and I have to agree, she's very good looking, quite the buxom lass, with that sexy Brit accent. Why no one else voted for her, I cannot say, but I think she mops up the floor with Giada- and wouldn't I like to see that, with both of them wearing nothing but heels, and short, frilly white aprons with nothng underneath- wait, I already siad "nothng but", "nothing underenath" was redundant. Still, hot damn, that's what I'd call cooking. Someone asked if I'd quit reading, since it's been so long snce I've included a "what's Bill been reading?" in here, God forfend, no, I'm still a reading machine (I think it's the only thing that keeps me even marginally sane), still going through a couple books a week, although now that I've got Kat's old computer hooked up down at Al's, I spend my nights there more writing than reading- although I have to watch what I write there, cos I've creeped my ass out a couple times already, and Al''s house is genuinely haunted- no shit, we'll go into it maybe next issue, I don't really want to talk about it right now, Phyllis is wanting to do some kind of annointed oil prayer type thing, FUCK NO, just leave that shit ALONE, Phyllis, all that amateur exorcism shit does is cause more trouble. She'll get them fucking spirits all stirred up, and then who'll they come looking for? Me, exactly. Mood I'm in, I'll kick their ghosty fucking asses, but I'd just as soon not have to deal wth it, you know? Anyway, I'm still reading, just nothing really outstanding lately either good or bad. I did read recently a compliation of the old Green Lantern/Green Arrow comics by Denny O'Neil (writer) and Neal Adams (art) from '70/'71 that were so controversial at the time, one of the first naive attempts by DC to make comics "relevant" and give individual personalities to what used to be a pretty uniform bunch of heroes. Green Lantern became the straight laced establishment guy (I still think his going off on those self righteous Guardian fucks is the best comic storylne EVER), and Green Arrow (Green Arrow?!@) the feisty rebel. I'm glad I didn't read this shit when I was a kid. Neal Adams' art is great, as always (although I've heard Neal himself is a dick) but the stories- just God awful. Ultra liberal hippie dippie drivel of the worst stripe, the main theme being "Why is the white man so evil?" (JUST BORN THIS WAY, I GUESS). That's my theory. Anyway, this shit SUCKS. Speaking of being born evil, DFZ has only worked once since last issue, XMCW in Rand, he's at the top of the card working Allen, which is fine, I usually like wrestling him, we had a decent match, but I hurt my fucking back. Allen was going to jump on me from the ring post while I was outside the ring- not the apron, the post, about 8 feet high- he got up there and then stopped, I kept waiting, and waiting, fucking JUMP already, the minute I look away, he jumps (not on purpose, that's just the way the world works), I wasn't ready and caught him wrong and hurt my back. Fuck me. I'm trying to convince him for our blow off match we should recreate the infamous Tupelo concession stand brawl in Rand, he's a little leery, hopefully I can talk him into it, it'd be fun. And Breeze says all the strippers are still asking when DFZ is gonna stop by, he gave me a free pass wanting me to stop by later that night, but I just feel too fucking bad right now, it'd be a wasted night. (TOO SICK FOR DRINKING AND STRIPPERS? YOU REALLY ARE STARTING TO SCARE ME). Yeah, well, if I was the kind of guy who worried about his health, I'd be worried too. But I spend too much time worrying about crazy ass shit that happened a thousand years ago. (LORETTA?) Sure, but other stuff as well. I'll lie in bed and relive a damn ball game I pitched 40 fucking years ago, "Man, I should've pitched that fucker INSIDE, not outside, he hit that son of a bitch a mile. Then, next time he came up, instead of walking him like Dad said, I should've put the ball right in his fucking ear. And if Dad had a problem with it, I should have put a ball in HIS fucking ear . . . " (YOU'RE NUTS). That's what I'm saying. (NO, I MEAN EVEN CONSIDERING PUTTING A PITCH IN YOUR DAD'S EAR. HE'D HAVE KILLED YOU). Oh, no doubt. At least it would have been quick. The EWE stuff is showing on TV in Ohio, I didn't know that, Athens and a couple other places, some guy who runs a hardcore fed in Texas somehow got a copy of the match Smokey and I had for EWE, he wants us both to come work for him, I can't, but Smokey might, DFZ also got invited back by that Supreme bunch in Indiana to work their Death Match Tournament (I blew them off a couple- no, it was three, Jesus, TIME- years ago to attend a cook out at once and probably never again Falconette Anita's, which was also where I first met Impetuous) sometime next month, probably gonig to pass on that as well, but maybe not, I've still got time to make up my mind. Depends on the money, and how stupid they're wanting to get. And for those of you planning on attending Hardcore Hell, which should be, like, all of you, it's been moved to the first Saturday in March, whatever date that is. And while I'm thinking about it, my favorite new wrestling names are Slick Skillet Moneyhand, and Donny Peppercricket. And I had a dream last ngiht (I dream about wrestling 2-3 times a week) that I was in some big tag tournament somewhere, and my partner was called Voodoo Macbeth. I think I like that one best of all. "Fuck around and fuck around, pretty soon you won't be around." Beautiful Bobby Eaton "You don't have to be a sport to play a sport." Dick the Bruiser "I don't give a damn about my bad reputation." Joan Jett Okay, this beer is already starting to catch up with me- gimme a break, it's been a while, so let's get to the latest chapter in why Bill has no sense. This is probably- no, definitely- gonna get graphic, so those of you with tender sensibilites might want to take a powder. As for the rest of us . . . Three weeks ago- tonight, actually, since it's now after midnight, and let me note, this was also before I went out the first time with Sally - Robby wants me and Al to go to the VFW and Aristocrat with him. I say, fuck no. Not really wanting to drink, not feeling even a little bit good, and you couldn't get me back in that shithole Aristocrat at gunpoint- last time we went in there, we barely get inside the door and the stench of rotting flesh about knocks me down. Turns out Carl, who as you all know is the bartender/pimp who works the place, has got an advanced case of PVD, and one of his feet is literally rotting off. Holy fuck. Since then he's gone to the hospital and had the vile thing amputated, but that night it was still attached and festering. If there's a doorway to Hell somewhere on this earth, I'm sure it's in the basement of the Aristocrat. About half an hour after I turn him down on the VFW, Robby calls back, now wanting Al and I to meet him at this bar called the Pig and Whistle, he has someone he desperately wants us to meet. Yeah, fuck, whatever Rob, I'm still not interested, I don't fucking FEEL GOOD, what part of that are you not understanding, you stupid, stupid retard? Al was in one of his rare, coherent and energetic moods that night, and he hears me on the phone. Al: Is that someone wanting us to go somewhere? Well, yes, but okay . . . even though I know before we leave, nothing good can possibly come from Bill and a bar called the Pig and Whistle. We get there and Robby is all up in this floozie he's hooked up with, wants to show her off to me and Al, "Man, isn't she HOT?", well, Rob, in a word, no, she looks like in her day she could have been a pretty hot potato, but that day is well past. Her name is Christine, and she's still bult well, but time has put some hard lines on her face. Also, she's not even a tiny bit bright, and dumb has never been hot for Bill. Rob's all excited cos she used to be a Playboy bunny, which is apparently legit, she says she used to work in the Miami Playboy club back in the 80's, and even carries a photo of herself in her bunny outfit in her purse (and yes, I do find that kind of sad). In 1984, when she was 19, Christine was damn near stunning, I have to say, she filled out that bunny suit really well. But it's 2007, thank you. Let me try to condense here- Bill drinks way too much. In general, certainly, but I'm talking specifacally avout this night.I know it was irresponsible as fuck, but I felt like SHIT, and I was trying to drink myself better (and Robby was buying). I don't just do the beer, Christine starts buying me shots of Wild Turkey (with Robby's money), Al was having a great time socializing, he was as on that night as he's been in the past year, so I wasn't in any hurry to leave on his account. But then Christine decides she likes Bill a lot more than she likes Rob (what can I say, I'm charming). Rob sees which way the wind is blowng and just takes off while I'm taking a piss, leaving me to give Christine the ride home he'd promised her. We drink up the rest of Robby's money (he'd slapped down $100 and started a tab on it when he got there- the guy's NUTS), then it's time to go. Christine wants me to take her back to Al's. I tell myself, if you do this, you're gonna hate yourself in the morning. Hey, you know what, I ALREADY hate myself in the morning, what the fuck. She's certainly a willing piece of ass, and a former Playboy bunny besides, that's a new one for the resume, fucked an over the hill Playboy bunny, I can slip it in between winning the Nobel Prize for wrestling and inventing the alphabet . . . maybe leave out that over the hill part . . . B: Hey Al, you care if I take this girl back to your house? Okay, he don't care. We get in the car and start for Al's. Christine says- Christine: Let's go by this lesbain bar and I'll see if I can pick up a lesbian to do a three way with us. Understandably, I have her repeat this a couple times, as I can't believe what I'm hearing. B: You're serious. We pull up in front of this cinder block building. B: Come on Al, we're going in here. Lately, Al hasn't been able to remember what you say to him five seconds later. He has to pick tonight to get his memory back. Al takes about two steps inside the door, looks around and annouces at the top of his damn lungs- A: THESE ARE THE UGLIEST GODDAMN LESBIANS I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY
LIFE! Christine does a quick cruise of the bar and finds no prospects- good damn thing, otherwise she'd have been walking home, cos these truly were the ugliest lesbians I'd ever seen in my life as well, or a bunch of really ugly guys, I'm not sure which. We leave, Al still jawing at the guy he's started up with- M: You're one to talk about looks, old man. I'm thinking, how am I going to explain to the court Al getting beaten up in a lesbian bar while I'm supposed to be taking care of him- "He started it, Your Honor"- but we get away without further incident. We get back to Al's, he goes to bed- it's been a busy night for the wild man- and then so do we. I'd considered going graphic here- in fact, I already wrote it graphic- but I think I'm gonna pull it. I will say, condescendngly sexist as it may sound, in the dark it was a pretty good time, exceptionally tight too- (I THOUGHT YOU WEREN'T GOING TO GET GRAPHIC?) -okay, not overly and extended graphic, anyway, I'm used to tight but this was, "Have you had this thing taken in?" tight, "Am in the right hole?" tight- (THEY'RE ALL THE RIGHT HOLE). I agree, but still, you know what I mean. I thought it would be wham bam and she'd want to go home, but she stayed till 4:30 (and I ran out of condoms). Hey, I'm no lesbian, but I do my best. And I didn't hate myself in the morning, or now, for that matter, but this sex with random women I run into in bars is something I'm getting tired of doing, cos all it does is make me miss that muich more making love to someone I truly care about. So I'm gonna quit. (PLEASE). Seriously. (PLEASE. WHEN YOU MET THAT GIRL SHE WASN'T EVEN WORTH A SECOND LOOK TO YOU. SIX HOURS AND GOD KNOW HOW MUCH BEER AND WHISKEY LATER, YOU'RE FUCKING HER LIKE SHE'S MARILYN GODDAMN MONROE.) Your point? (STAY OUT OF BARS. OR DON'T MAKE PROMISES YOU CAN'T KEEP). Point taken. Anything else you want to say? (YOU LOOK LIKE YOU ROLLED IN SOMEBODY'S HEAVE). Was that hysterical, or what? (I WAS CRYING. WHAT A FUNNY, FUNNY MAN. WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM THE
DEATH FALCON, I THINK HE COULD'VE HAVE TAKEN THAT FUCKER IN THE BAR, TOO). Best we didn't find out. Well, clown time is over for another issue, boys and girls. Sleep tight. And appreciate what you've got while you've got it. Cos nothing lasts forever. Rest in peace Later Bill By the way, this is the thrid time I've tried to send this thing out. Hopefully you got at least one of them (if you got more, count yourself lucky). I hate this computer more than I've ever hated anything in my motherfucking life, human or inanimate.  |
I've
got skulls in the bottom of my whiskey glass 
There's
this spearfishing show that comes on Outdoor Network on Monday, 6:30,
10:30 and 2 am, it's pretty interesting, the inshore reef spearfishing
looks like a lot of fun, maybe something I'd like to try in Belize if that
trip comes off (it's now been pushed back to next January), they free dive
with just snorkel, mask and fins, usually in 50-60 feet of water, I'm way
impressed with their ablity to hold their breath, I'd have to work on that
before I tried it.