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2/4/08 I Can Speak American
Hey Thought it had only been a couple weeks since last issue, but now I see it's been three- time, as ever, races on unheeded and unimpeded. We're now well into Year Seven of what may very well turn out to be my life's work, we're up to issue #215 (cos we're all in this together), don't know about you guys, but it seems like I've been at this a very long time, January 2002 feels very far away. LOTTA changes since that very first NL, I was still employed (HA) by CCIL, in Charleston no less, still technically married (and you know what, this is the first year since the divorce that its anniversary got by me unnoticed- that's a good thing, a very good thing- didn't brood or mope or anything on the 17th cos I plain fucking forgot) Loretta was still in town and living on Carriage Way, we were exchanging the girls- who were ages twelve and fifteen, grades six and nine - on a weekly basis, I'd just moved out onto Harmon's Creek, a place for all its drawbacks I miss so very much now, as I do my Dad, who was still alive and crazy back then (now he's just crazy) . . . So . . . let's hit the mail bag, lot of response to Bill's invasion of Central America (Joe's got six good photos for this issue to put on site), pretty much evenly divided among those jealous haters who envy me all my foreign fun- these were all tongue in cheek, or so I took them- and those praising me for my life saving effort on behalf of little guy, one titled "Zero's A Hero?" being my favorite (love the question mark). What can I say? I'm doing what all divorced men of leisure should do, travel, so I can broaden myself by experiencing exotic foreign cultures, while drinking to excess, smoking cigars and popping pills, and fucking good looking strangers whom I'll never see again- and if some goof ball needs his ass saved, I guess I can fit that in as well. (YOU'RE A HELL OF A MAN).
(HOW'D THAT HAPPEN?) - must've been born that way is all I can figure. Still, what I'm saying is that all this good fun didn't come without a heavy price. (BUT WE HAVE HAD GOOD FUN THESE PAST SIX YEARS) You bet your ass. So, what's Bill been up to? Pretty much the same old shit, Tuesday through Friday with Al, DFZ work on the weekends, run my Mom all over on Mondays-she's got some new medical problems, I'm gonna have to start giving her these super iron shots once a week- then start the fuck over. I definitely feel like I'm in a rut- I'm always IN rut- but like I've said, I can see light, cos this summer, if Al even lasts that long, I'm cutting my hours WAY back, cos both the girls are going to be here all summer and I'm spending lots of time with them. Been missing both of them terribly lately, with everything else going on I feel like we didn't get to spend any time together at all over Christmas, they feel the same way, that week fucking blazed past, and now I won't see either of them until their spring breaks. Sarah's doing fine, she's back at FDU, Rachie's crashing and burning again, she just won't fucking GO TO SCHOOL, I appreciate that she's bored out of her mind and hates it, but it's just a few more months, GO TO FUCKING SCHOOL. Now that things are tolerable betwen her mother and I, I'm going out to visit some this spring, Rachie needs some of her Daddy's love and attention/boot up the ass motivation. And she's going to get plenty of both. And I'm going to try to get to NJ to see Sarah as well. While she was still in MD, Sarah went to get her energy aligned, or something like that, the lady doing it told Sarah there were a bunch of dead folks wanting to talk to her, and at the head of the line . . . exactly, my Dad. Sarah swears she didn't tip this lady off to anything, but she was able to describe my Dad, and knew his pet name for Sarah, which is kind of creepy since, being my Dad, it wasn't even her name, and told her a couple other things that hit kind of close to home, but the one thing that convinces me this lady was actually in touch with my ectoplasmic sire was when she got this puzzled look on her face and asked Sarah- Lady: Did he speak another language? Al's still a mess, got some skin cancer on his scalp they're going to take off under local, and then do a skin graft from his thigh- THAT should be entertaining. And Robby's still a mush mouthed fool, the other day he saw this kid with his head shaved on the sides, just a strip of hair down the middle of his head and he went off, talking about how he hates "mole hawks", Al didn't understand what he was saying, which is getting more and more common with Al, with everyone, not just Robby, they'll say something on TV and Al will go, all confused, "Did they just say . . .?" and it won't be anything close to what was said, it's not his hearing, it's his brain, he and Robby went around about the mole hawks, cos somehow Al thought Robby said the kid's name was "Omar Pokehole"- no, I could not make this up- Al kept going, "That's a terrible thing to name a kid," Robby keeps saying "I didn't say Omar Pokehole, I said I hate MOLE HAWKS", Al, "I know, that's terrible." And it ain't just Robby and Al. We were sitting in the Waffle House the other evening talking to this waitress (it was a slow night) and she was telling us her daughter had just had a baby, the Dad's name is Felicks (pronounced Felix) and the Mom has some weird ass name I didn't catch other than to note it was a weird ass name, so Robby asked what they named the baby, "Michael David" the lady replies. Robby: That's a normal name. For once, I'm on Robby's side. Still, this lady is getting good and pissed. B: You better shut the fuck up, man, she's about to kick your
ass. So this kid's name is Micahole Daffid, pronounced Michael David. Sure hope he's a tough kid. People been asking for a while now, what the hell happened with Nikki,
well, she felt I wasn't being attentive enough- no, that's not it, really,
I was attentive as hell when we were together, we just weren't seeing one
another much, which I thought had been our understanding from the start,
but she got kind of bent out of shape about me not calling or coming by
any more than I was, I was actually going to make the effort to get
together more, cos I genuinely liked her a lot- a LOT- and she was a
certified cutie pie, but then I called her a couple times and didn't get
any answer, or called back, and then the last time I called, her phone was
out of service, so I figured I was getting the blow off, but,
masochistically wanting to hear it from her own sweet lips if such was the
case, I went by where she worked and found out she'd had to quit and move
back home, one family member had murdered another and she had gone home to
care for her younger siblings. How fucking sad. So, that's what happened
with Nikki, and I truly hate it. Moving on . . . I saw in the paper last week where someone with obviously way too much time on their hands is trying to make this giant prehistoric ground sloth the official state fossil of WV. I thought Jean was our official state fossil? (AREN'T THEY THE SAME THING?) Dude. When she gets hold of you . . . Cos Jean knows I think's she's beautiful. I get called an ageist in here sometimes but it's not true, I think Cory Everson (the body builder, not the one who does porn) is an incredibly gorgeous woman, check her out on the cover of this month's Iron Man, she's fifty and she's beyond hot. May have FINALLY gotten the final draft done of the DFZ illustrated novel, after about fifty billion revisions, none of which were my idea, I've never been good at collaboration- (A THOROUGHBRED BY COMMITTEE IS JUST A GODDAMN MULE) -fucking exactly, about half the book I like, half I don't, at this point I don't even care anymore, I've gotten some cash and some pussy out of the deal already, and should get more of at least the former, so fine, as an artistic endeavor I gave up on this thing a long time ago. However, the guy now doing the illustrations is a legit connected comic book buy, Craig Taillifer, that Tinnell hooked us up with, so that's a very cool development, and one I fully intend to exploit. And in a golden sun (I'LL HAVE WHAT HE'S HAVING) No fucking shit. So, what's Bill been reading? Not as much as I'd like cos seriously, between that unholy trio of Al/Mom/DFZ- (DUDE!) -seriously, you take up so much of my damn time. (YOU'D RATHER READ THAN WRESTLE?!) Sometimes. (PUSSY). Be that as it may, my reading time is not as much as I'd like it to be. Got a big stack of magazines piled up- The Big Takeover, Hittin' The Note, Filmfax, Videoscope, Shock Cinema, plus a bunch of old wrestling magazines I bought off of Brandon (they were his Dad's) at the BCW Brink Of Death, I mean OLD, including the first ever wrestling mag I ever bought, June 1980 edition of The Wrestler, actually purchased at a convenience store in Big Stone Gap, Virginia on November 6, 1979, and I could right now tell you more about that day than you can probably tell me about yesterday, although buying those mags was a mistake, cos I started reading them and got so sad ass nostalgic for those days which seem mere moments ago that I had to stop, and I haven't picked them up since. Also got a bunch of SSSLB books post Christmas, eight of them, along with a bunch of CDs and DVDs (although yet again I fucked up, thought the Thriller box set I was buying was the original series hosted by Boris Karloff which was a great and often truly scary show, turns out this is some 70's Brit version, may be okay, but it's not what I WANTED) for under $200, all of which will be reviewed as I get to them. Did read a book on Chicago, the band, not the city, if you only know them as the pap- or should that be pablum?- spewing "balladeers" of the 80's and 90's, you might be surprised to find that a lot of their early singles were quite good. In this book they come off basically as nice guys, if somewhat on the naive and pretentious side, they were from that time where musicians thought they might actually be agents of social change- yeah, right. Still, not a bad book for a buck ninety nine. Also read a book about Tim Burton, an unauthorized biography, I'm not a big fan of his films but I still like to read about people in the arts- writers, musicians, actors and other movie folk- and it was only $2.99. Tim comes across as a social retard, but I don't care, don't plan on meeting him any time soon. (HE SHOULD BE SO LUCKY) Danny's teaching a class this semester on the graphic novel, I was going to help out before it got switched from Monday night to Wednesday, still went to the very first one a couple weeks ago, took Al with me and realized quickly that that wasn't going to work on a regular basis, Little Guy- you know, whose life I saved?- was in the class and he came up to me and gave me a still shrink wrapped copy of Absolute Kingdom Come, which is undoubtedly cool as fuck, I'll let you borrow it next time I see you Chris, you're gonna love it. LG: Thanks for saving my life. He'd already bought me a shitload of beer on the trip, I knew AKC cost around $75, close to $80 with tax, so- Bill: This is it? And HE PULLS OUT HIS WALLET. At that point I blow it by laughing. LG: You asshole. So now I own someone. Cool. What's Bill been watching? Went with the MC to see Cloverfield (stupid name, really) two weeks ago, there were varied reactions, Doug and Rosa both outright hated it, specifically the hand held cam cinema verite deal, and the trendy NYC twenty somethings who were the protagonists, I agree with both complaints, (although it didn't make me hate the movie as much as it did them), the hand held shit did get old, and occasionally disorienting/nauseating, and I didn't much care for the main characters either, although as I said in the movie, I think they were designed to appeal to a younger crowd than the MC, and talking to some wrestlers who had seen it proved me right, they thought the characters were "cool". Overall I thought the movie was uneven, the opening drug, as in slow, and the whole thing is relentlessly downbeat- everyone dies- as in, probably, everyone, not just the movie folk- though we didn't stay for it, apparently after the closing credits (the movie ends with them atom bombing Manhattan in an attempt to kill the monster), someone shouts "It's still alive!". However, the parts I liked, I liked a lot, it's a great monster, this giant malformed insectoid ape like fucker with a head like a beaked skull, and it can drop these crab monster like things, either deliberately as some type of bioweapon, or else they're some sort of tick like parasite dislodged by all the shooting, I thought the scenes of the army in the street fighting the monster were very well done, of couse I'm always about the fighting, and it's one of those truisms that makes me not hate people as a whole as much as I would otherwise, that no mattter how big and scary something is, instead of running away, there are always gonna be some motherfuckers who are going to run at it, shooting. I also think it does a pretty good job of getting across the "What the fuck?!" aspect of a giant monster from space (I missed it, but the final scene, which is of a guy and girl out on a date- the movie is taped over a previous home movie, a clever framng device, although I did hate the underlyng home movie shit- if you're watching for it, which I wasn't, you can see something fall out of the sky and land in the water where the monster eventually first appears). So, should you see it? I'd say yeah- matinee, free parking, like I did, I wouldn't pay full price, but the parts I liked, I liked enough to feel I got my money's worth. Watched the Super Bowl tonight, had no interest in it whatsoever, but I went over to Doug and Rosa's and they were watching it, so I did as well. I have to say, Super Bowl Sunday pretty much sums up everything I hate about America. And, oh yeah- FUCK YOU, PATRIOTS. Ha ha. What's Bill drinking? Not much, wasn't planning on drinking any at all tonight cos I'm once again wicked hung over (12 Rolling Rock and most of a fifth of vodka last night), but I drank four Buds at D&R's, so I started drinking some more of them once I got back to the house, Tina left a 12 pack when she was here at Christmas that I hadn't touched till now, drunk six or seven of them so far while writing this thing. What's Bill listening to? Some of the SSSLB CDs mentioned above, specifically Deuce by Rory Gallagher, the one I meant to get when I mistakenly bought Tattoo, this has got great shit on it like "Cradle Rock" and "A Million Miles Away", also Smokin' by BB fave Humble Pie, not their best, but it does have the killer "Thirty Days In The Hole" (and it was four bucks), also a double CD Faces best of, only about a jillion times better than that single CD shitbomb best of that came out in '99, plus- don't you dare laugh- the fucking insanely great Death Walks Behind You- (HE CERTAINLY WALKS BEHIND ME) -by Atomic Rooster. I'm not joking, this is great, great stuff, heavy
as fuck when it's heavy, pretty as fuck when it's pretty, why this album
was never a huge hit totally eludes me (and if you need any more
convincing of this band's greatness beyond simply my word, in one of their
last incarnations the drum throne was manned by R. J. Parnell, aka Mick
Shrimpton of Spinal Tap fame). Yes, I realize all these CDs are Brit rock
of an early 70's vintage, and this is 2008. Your point? If I was a baby Well, in the not acting your age column, let's get around to the Death Falcon. Had a wild night at the Eagles Club in Parkersburg two weekends ago, which is why I never made it back for MC. After laying the hapless Wildcat out, DFZ assaulted his valet/wife Seductress (not really, but it's a nice thought), body slamming her in the middle of the ring and then dropping a big elbow on her, Wildcat sold it like it was real ("I'll kill you, you son of a bitch") as did Seductress, lying there like she was really hammered dead by the bastard Death Falcon, and the retards in the crowd (which is all of 'em) went nuts, first time I've had anyone from the crowd actually take a swing at me, he missed, DFZ didn't, caught him with a backhand right in the grill that popped the middle knuckle on my left hand ring finger, fucker's still sore (and as security jumped on this idiot where DFZ'd laid him out, he plaintively appealed to them "But he hurt a woman!"). Not really. Paula was scared to death to do the spot before we went
out, to the point where I told her we didn't have to (wasn't my booking in
the first place), but she told me "I trust Greg, who trusts you. He
told me you're the only person in the company he'd trust to do this spot
with me." How flattering, truly. So, I slammed hell out of her out
there, then dropped a man killer elbow right across her tits, so much so
that when I got to the back I got some heat, one of the mid carders who'd
been watching on the monitor was like "You didn't have to slam her so
hard"- being the goddamn Death Falcon, I told him if he didn't want
one himself to shut the fuck up. When they brought her supposedly
unconscious form to the back- stretched out on a door no less, Jesus-
first thing she did once she opened her eyes was to squeeze my hand and
say, "That was AWESOME. I didn't feel a thing." (FIRST TIME A WOMAN'S EVER SAID THAT TO ME). Same here. All kidding aside though, boys and girls, I know my craft. I'm rushing getting out of my gear cos it's still relatively early and I want to get back for MC, when Brian and Mike tell me, don't leave just yet, there's a bunch of guys out in the parking lot waiting for you. It's cool as HELL that these hillbillies took it that seriously, but I'm not in the mood, I tell B&M I'm gonna put the goddamn mask back on and go out there and kick all their fucking mark asses, I got someplace I want to be, Brian's like "How about you go into the bar and drink on my tab till they're gone, instead." Okay, you talked me into it . . . Trying to condense events here a little, while drinking heartily on Brian's dime, I meet two new DFZ fans in the Eagles club bar (it is goddamn good to be champ), and end up going to one of their houses with both of them- yes, I said both of them- eventually getting back to Charleston around 4:30 or so. I have to say, I fucking LOVE wrestling at the Eagles club- in fact, I fucking love wrestling period, one of the stories that got dropped when the computer screwed up the post Brink Of Death NL was how one wrestling fan decided to show her oral appreciation for the Death Falcon in the bathroom (she walked in on me) at the post match party. Sordid? Maybe. Would you do it too, if you could? I'm betting you would. DFZ continues to tear up fan favorite Wildcat and the rest of the MWA, leading to such website laments as Death Falcon Zero- Out of Control, and Logan And DFZ Cross The Line In St. Mary's, with accompanying video footage. It's a fucking hoot, I swear. In still MORE wrestling news, The Grapes of Wrath are also making their return to the ring, scheduled to work a "Russian Rullet"- don't you just love it?- match for the Primetime Championship Wrestling tag belts April 19th in Kingwood against Bloodline and the VIPS, no idea who these jokers are but they're going down, and oh yeah, Charlie, the champs are planning on spending the night at your place, we'll party like fuck after the show. On a more serious note, Danny has got the Grapes booked for some matches in Mexico, for a week either in May or June, this isn't (just) crazy talk, I've seen the correspondence, we're flying out to Tucson, then crossing the border and working in Nogales, Hermosilla, and one other place I can't remember. I have very serious concerns about Danny surviving the trip.
So there you go. I don't think Danny has any idea what's in store for us down there- those fuckers take their wrestling as seriously as they do their religion, if not more so, they work from the right and faster than shit, they're stiff as bricks and their rings are hard as rock. I'm ALL about it, fuck, it's every masked wrestler's wet dream to work in Mexico, and DFZ can handle himself, cos a big luchadore will run you 5'9" and 180 pounds, if they try to get cute, or are wearing me out by working too fast, I'm just gonna take 'em to the mat and sit on 'em, and they'll get over it or get hurt, I don't care how many fucking cousins they got in the cheap seats- and then, Jesus, after hours, with all the beer and tequila and hot blooded senoritas . . . oh fuck YEAH. But Danny could in all seriousness get himself killed. Or not. I say we close this one down. Any last words from you? (IF YOU DON'T LIKE YOUR FACE, RUB BUTTER ON IT) Omar Pokehole couldn't have said it better. Later Bill
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I'm a roadrunner baby, you know what I am 
By God, no argument here. But before you guys envy me TOO much,
remember what I lost to become a divorced man of leisure- a hot wife whom
I'd loved with all my heart since I was a teenager, my kids, my house, my
job- okay, that's a positive- fuck, even my DOG- well, okay again, I
wasn't exactly crazy about the dog either, although HE was crazy-
When we worked HoP last fall there was a Puerto Rican tag team there
that no one wanted to work cos they were so stiff, I volunteered Danny and
I but John said no, I was talking to them in the back, nice guys, told
them I'd always wanted to work in PR, would they watch my match and tell
me if they thought I could work there, afterward they told me, "You'd
do fine down there, no problem" but then added, "Don't bring
your friend, he'll get killed," when I told them we were thinking
about working in Mexico, when they finally stopped laughing one of them
said, "Amigo, the Mexicans scare US".