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We Got Canned Woke up this morning and I got myself a beer Hey Well, shit. As those of you who were planning on attending tonight's show in Ashland already know, it was cancelled. Don't know why, all Bob's message said was "We got canned." I'm sure he's swamped with bad shit right now, if I haven't heard from him in a day or two I'll check in with him and get the details. Pretty frustrating, I was ready to shake it the fuck out tonight, hang onto those tickets, boys and girls, I'll make it up to you next month. One dang thing is, I was going to meet with Mark Mercedes tonight to talk about going to Australia in August to work a 2 week tour, don't know what the fuck is up with that now. If she'd been attractive, I was also looking forward to having a go at chatting up Lady Madison (you can not win if you do not play) there in the locker room. Also, I was supposed to go to Cleveland next weekend with Bobby and wrestle, I guess that's still on, who knows, this indy wrestling stuff is a pretty shaky proposition most of the time.
He was screwing up right and left last Sunday, almost broke the Beast's leg falling on it earlier, then he messes up this drill we were doing, arm whip into turnbuckle, hip toss off it, pin, kick out, repeat (and repeat and repeat, Jesus), I arm whip him, he comes staggering out, no way I could catch him for the toss so I just clipped him in the face with an elbow when he comes lumbering by- not hard, and not mean, but like "come ON, straighten up." Wish now I'd jacked his stubbly cranium senseless. Next drill we were running body slams. When the guy goes to slam you, you don't jump up as some people think, what you do is put your right hand on his left hip and basically power your own self up (you realize you guys are getting free wrestling lessons here). Bobby's 240 and he goes up like a feather. Bucky's all of 260 and he goes up like 260. I managed to muscle his big ass up, point of pride since people were watching, but rolled my right ankle badly doing it. I gave him a little extra mustard on the slam (which to his credit, he took well). I got through the rest of the workout, but by the time I got to my parents my ankle was swelling badly, and by the time I got to Joe's (more on that later) it was worse, could barely walk on it, to all intents and purposes couldn't walk at all Monday (hopping on one leg and screaming doesn't count). Walking on it now, but it's still pretty tight. Talked to Bob about dropping the Buckster, I sure as fuck don't need him, Team Old School hates him, Bob's reluctant to, he went to school with Bucky's dad, etc. etc, and he's not a bad kid by any means, I like him, "oops, my bad", he's says, to the point where you'd almost laugh at him if he wasn't killing you. I don't give a damn that he's fat, fat and strong is okay, fat and weak is a goddamn menace and I don't want to work out with him anymore. Hell, that's probably what happened tonight, Bucky came down for the show and tripped and knocked the fucking Armory over. This delay will at least let me get the new, even cooler DF uniform together. It's been bugging me that everyone at these shows keeps saying, it's a shame your gi can't be red like your mask and shoes. What color is my gi, I ask, I get either pink or orange (?) or faded red. Well, it ain't faded, I just dyed the fucker, but I agree with their point completely, it's not nearly as crimson as it needs to be. That Neptune may be a whiz at washing, but it ain't no dyer. Chris sent me a site where I can order white gi pants for $13.99, aka dirt cheap, but they've been down since he sent it to me, please check back with us. As soon as they come up, gonna get some new pants and dye the living shit out of them in my ma's old school washer and get a nice deep red hue on them like I need. I also usually wrestle without a shirt cos that gi top is too confining (and I like to show my stuff), but I've noticed the past couple shows I've worked, these guys with this funky sort of rash on their backs, asked Adam about it last show cos he had it real bad and he said, yep, it was some kind of nasty ass shit he picked up from the ring. Fuck that shit. I've ordered this sleeveless skin tight red under garment that should keep that stuff offa me, and look cool besides, like super hero spandex. So what's Bill doing right now? Pounding the 40 ounces. Probably shouldn't, since Joe is coming over tomorrow night for some graphics work, and we'll be drinking then (ya figure?), but I just feel like it, the girls are back with Loretta till Sunday afternoon, she's in this weekend, and- well, like I said, I just feel like it, but good pounding, not bad pounding. And ask Joe, I'm drinking very little, was down there last Saturday, all dry, cos I was working out Sunday morning, then when the girls and I were back there Sunday night (we were flooded OUT, dammit, couldn't get back home, I still really like where I live, but it's pretty damn inconvenient sometimes, and I didn't want to go to my parents cos there's trouble brewing, folks, right here in river city, I'm getting real, REAL sick of some of the shit that goes on out there, and it's gonna get ugly real soon- at the very least I'm gonna hurt some feelings REAL bad, and don't laugh, that can hurt a hell of a lot worse than a punch to the mouth, which is also not outside the realm of possibility) I didn't drink cos JOE DIDN'T OFFER ME ANY. Walking all around with them nice crisp Heinies like I wasn't even there. Why didn't I just get one myself? I'm funny that way, I guess. Also, I COULDN'T FUCKING WALK. Still appreciate you letting us stay over. He also came out (goddamn Joe, had lunch with Jason today, HE was busting me for always ragging on you) and helped me get my car out of the snowy weeds- it was too far off the road to be the brim, I think- where I put it Wednesday. Driving along cursing Loretta in my head, more on THAT later, and don't cringe, no tirades a' coming, going too fast, came to a curve, road was icy, off it I go. Could've been a lot worse, missed the tree, missed the creek. Walking the 3 miles from there to the house on my still sore ankle- oh shit, this mother fucking computer just froze up on me, thought I was gonna lose all this, got it unfroze (if I told you how you'd never believe me), it's been doing that a lot lately. This may surprise most of you, but I HATE COMPUTERS. Let's see- oh yeah, the car's stuck up, Joe comes out, he gases, I push, no go, this redneck REEKING of beer stops to help, gets drenched in mud for his efforts, still no go, another redneck stops to help, we all combine to get her out. Thanks guys, all three of you. As an aside, the 2 fucking yuppies who passed me in their SUV's while I was walking home earlier (which was no picnic, to finish an even earlier thought) just drove right on by. Fuck you yuppie fucks, gimme a damn drunk redneck for help any day.
The first 2 Doors albums are fucking excellent front to back, and there are songs on all the others (I don't like The Soft Parade, most people don't, in this case most people are actually right) that many bands, then and now, would fucking kill for (I personally would've been very proud to have written "Roadhouse Blues"). And NO one ever recognizes "Cars Hiss By My Window", and it's great. Windows started trembling with a sonic boom
He was definitely my kind of guy in another way- "I'm not the type of guy who's good with things. Hand me a piece of mail and I'll rip it all to shreds trying to get it open, then throw the letter away, look at the inside of the envelope and go, 'Why isn't there anything written in here?'" Man, I know exactly what he's saying. Listening to?- more Doors, Before you slip into unconsciousness
Not gonna go wanging off at length on Loretta (unlike the old days, HA), but she's a selfish piece of shit. Sat up most of Tuesday night, till about 2:30 am, anyway, talking with the girls, they're very upset about their mom moving, not so much cos she's gone, but because they've now lost their home. Nobody lives there now. They can go back and visit when Loretta is back visiting, but they don't live there anymore. No one does. They just visit. Sarah also said something I found very chilling. She said, "You're still in that house, Daddy", and Rachel immediately said, "I know." They both say that sometimes they'll hear my voice in another room, they even said Loretta heard it once, said "Girls, is your dad here?". Sarah says she often feels me in her room, which was my room for over 10 years. I don't know, even though I'm the "ghost", that kind of creeps me out. But you know, if I can imprint like that just by living in a place, think what kind of truly hellish haunt I could be if I suicided somewhere? Seriously. Make the Exorcist look like Bugs fucking Bunny. It'd mean your life to open the fucking door and look inside. And okay, a few of you called me on the happy face I again put last issue on the girls moving to Baltimore, busted, no, I don't mean it. When I say they'll go with my blessing, that just means that I won't be upset with them, not that I won't be upset.
I'm still loving this not working thing, but every silver lining has it's cloud, and one is that I don't have lots of discretionary income (first person who says quit spending what you do have on beer gets- no, they won't get that, I've changed my mind, instead they'll get the Loretta Bitner, soon to be Bomgardner I hope, but not a fraction as much as my dad, it chaps the HIDE off his wrinkled old ass she kept the name, first annual get on Bill's last fucking nerve award). Saw the entire first season of the- dammit, a lady bug just flew in my mouth and I swallowed it, after rolling it around in there for a while trying to spit it out, they taste nasty- Outer Limits, 32 episodes on 4 DVDs, struggled for a long time, could've charged it, finally put it back, it was only $80, but I may see it for less next time I'm at Best Buy, and if I do, it's mine, fuck it. Amy was in town this week for some convention thing, the girls and I had dinner with her last night at Olive Garden, it was quite nice to see her again, she's working out and looks quite nice herself, not to say that she didn't before, but now she looks working out nice. Don't forget, you have to come see me when I wrestle in Charleston (it is all about me, isn't it?) (NO, IT'S ALL ABOUT ME). Tried to get Staci to come down for a wrestling weekend (been a couple months since I'd even heard from her, finally got an e-mail night before last) but I don't think she's going to (didn't out right say no, just the vibe). States she's definitely up for a tussle next time I'm up that way, which will probably be in April, I would like to get in one more go round before she graduates in May and heads off to parts unknown, which as we all know, is just swarming with wrestlers.
I've often thought it would be great if cancer could just be made into a giant monster, seriously, you know, some 60 stories tall Godzilla-ish tumor, this is all the cancer that there will ever be, all right here, in one place, Cancera- and then we could kill it, for fucking forever. Nuke it, or find another monster, Chemora, that could kill it, or put the Death Falcon to it, and he could kill it. There's tons of bad diseases out there (whoa, working for CCIL woke me up to that) but there's something about that sneaky ass cancer that just pisses me off.
I've been asked a LOT recently about diet tips- I swear (and while I'm thinking about it, Joe, can you change the date of He's Not From No Mars to whatever the real date was instead of 2/3 like the one before it, some guy is driving me NUTS telling me we have the wrong date on there, and I'm not joking) maybe it's that first of the year thing, I don't know. Here's what works for me. Eat about 150 pounds of canned tuna, and 50
pounds of canned salmon a year. I'd spread this out, and not try to do it
in one sitting. Also, avoid fast food, snack food (chips and that kind of
shit), white bread, white sugar, red meat (except steak, the rawer the
better), pop, even diet. Drink skim milk, 2%'s a scam, also lots of water-
nobody drinks water, that's crazy, Drink lots of green tea, especially in the evening if you get hungry, it's an appetite suppressant. Lastly, drink two cases of beer every week. This is important. If you have an off week and only drink, say, 40 beers, try to make it up the next week by drinking 56. At least four times a year drink a whole bottle of your favorite liquor at one time. You may think I'm talking out my ass, what's new, but let's see YOU heft Bucky's ass up and over, and it's all because of this diet. Have sex as often as possible (yeah, I know, you didn't ask about that, but I'm drunk). It's good for what ails ya. Unless you got fucking AIDS. Admittedly, I'm not there as frequently as I'd like to be at this point, but I make the most of it when I am. As often as you have time to (I'm thinking of my working friends with kids, here), do what I like to call saturation sex- guys, instead of rolling over and saying, "uh, thanks", go straight from your orgasm back into foreplay, to erection, to intercourse, to orgasm, repeat until total exhaustion- if you can't go a couple hours like this, and get off 3 or 4 good ejaculations (that last one will blow your fucking mind, trust me, it'll be one of those hurts so good type of deals), have your partner call me. If you can go the distance- it's easier than it sounds, hopefully you got more damn speeds than just jackhammer, I'm a six geared fucker myself, and she shifts smooth - you and your partner should both end up in a state of wonderfully drained, sexed out bliss, and this kind of sex really figures more into the making love thing, as opposed to that wham bam shit we guys often fall into. Man, you know, when I drink a whole, whole lot of beer, like tonight,
it starts tasting salty to me, I swear, like sea water, no, like blood
(which I have lots of experience swallowing) my blood is beer, or beer is
my blood. Fuck, Joe, I'm not gonna be worth a shit tomorrow (WHICH MAKES
IT DIFFERNT FROM EVERY OTHER DAY HOW?). |
3/1/03
Actually, as far as my leg is concerned, missing tonight is not a bad
thing. Mentioned last issue this kid who's been training with us on
Sundays. Bucky. Dear God, that's his name, Bucky, and where the hell is
Baron Zemo when you need him. I thought when Bob introduced him he said he
was a high school wrestler. Actually, I must've misheard
"wannabe". The best thing I can say about Bucky is that he's
built like a professional wrestler. Unfortunately, that wrestler's Dusty
Rhodes. Very nice kid, but a train wreck in the ring, he's overweight and
clumsy and a very poor athlete, no stamina at all, and he's gonna hurt
someone, like me, whom he already has.
What's Bill listening to? Oldster shit. Finished the Morrison book,
decided to do some Doors. People like to crack on them a lot now cos JM
was such a fucking bozo, and so many fucking bozos in his wake said such
stupid shit about how great he was (Jeff Morrison, ne Martin, comes to
mind, Joe, we gotta get up there this spring and get my fucking old SG
back, I mean it, of course, I always mean EVERYTHING I say, but sometimes
I say it when I'm drunk, and I forget that I said it) that there's this
backlash, and people tend to hate bands because they hate the BAND, not
their music, I've always hated the fuck out of Van Halen, not cos ALL
their music sucks, just most, they have about an album's worth of good
songs, we used to do "Ain't Talkin' 'bout Love", Am, G,
something else, but because I think as people they're numb fuck idiots.
Now reading the bio of Bill Graham, undecided about him, he comes
across bright and funny, which I like, but also money driven to the
extreme and a smugly bald faced prick about it to boot, which I got no use
for, but he does seem genuinely concerned about value for money taken, and
I think he was good to his friends, so- I think if he and I were buds I
would've liked him a lot, if we were acquaintances, I'd have probably
thought he was a dirty shit.
Joe and I are also planning on watching Dagon tomorrow on Sci-Fi. It'll
probably be cut to hell, since I think the original is pretty gory, but
we're gonna give it a shot. Based on some stuff by H.P. Lovecraft, whom a
lot of people find a turgid read, and I agree, but it still is very
powerful stuff, and if you look past his style to his ideas, very much
ahead of his time. I love him, hope I can say the same about the movie.
Damn,
someone, a couple someones, in fact, are still banging on that fey Bill
thing, basing it on the picture of Loretta and I that I sent out last
issue. Say what? Boys (or girls, whomever), go back to that picture and
check it out. Look at what I've got my prong bucked up against, and I
don't mean her ass, I mean the total package. You wish you were that
fucking fey. She was prime, prime, prime. And so was I.
I want everyone to say a prayer for Mr. Rogers. I mean it. Nice as he
fucking was, and I saw/read several interviews with the man, he was as
genuinely as decent a soul as I think you're ever going to find, he
probably doesn't need it, he's easily in Heaven right now going "What
a nice neighborhood", but it's the principle. Here's to ya, Fred (but
it bothers me, and throws all my doubts to the fore, when a sweet guy like
him goes from something as painful and ugly as stomach cancer).
While we're on the death trip, I see where Rick Buhler's, think that's
the right spelling, fuck it, never saw it in print, just heard it (Oriole
pitcher who died of heat stroke) family are suing the folks who make
Xenedrine. Man. I'm sorry the guy passed and I won't make light of it, but
shit, just cos his ass couldn't handle it (maybe) don't keep it from me.
Everyone I know- EVERYONE- who's ever taken Xenedrine HATES it, not even
neutral, they hate it. I love it. Go figure.
you got to drink lots of water. Avoid
the generic "sweets", although if you want to binge once or
twice a month and eat a gallon of ice cream, or a whole chocolate cream
pie at a time, that's cool- moderation is for fucking sissies. Eat these
foods at least once a week- oatmeal, broccoli/cauliflower, ground glass, a
banana with peanut butter on it (this is good for breakfast), orange juice
(try to drink a big glass with soy protein powder, vanilla flavor, mixed
in- the soy doesn't taste as good as whey, nor does it dissolve as well,
but it's good for your heart, also makes you fart, ha).