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3/7/07 I Have Always Been Here Before
" . . . state that these crimes are being committed by dead men, charged wtih atom rays, which gives them superhuman strength and makes them impervious to bullets. Well, if you want to believe that story, you can . . . " Roky Erikson, "Creature With The Atom Brain". "Mommy, this money has blood and staples on it." Some kid at the concession stand in Lubeck. Hey And if you want to believe this story, you can. First, to start with a disclaimer that was supposed to go on the site with last issue, but didn't, so it's going right here, right now-
I wish this computer really WAS a cocksucking whore, a good cheap one with nice soft lips and a very deep throat, instead of the damnable piece of fuck it is. God, I hate it. I rely on those little green lines underneath all the misspelled words, which this new fucker won't do, not cos I don't know how to spell, but simply to help me keep track of them, because the first drafts of these things are all stuff like- well ,tis line iis from teh first drsft and i hadn't gbeen corected- I type about 100 words a minute- seriously- but it all comes out like that line, i.e. gibberish, I just want to get it down as fast as I can while it's still fresh in my pea, and oft well lit, brain, and then go back and fix it, but I'm often so buzzed by fix it time that a lot of shit gets past me unless I have a little squiggly line pointing it out to me. Honestly, if you tried to read a NL in first draft form it would come out like some Lovecraftian chant, read it out loud and chances are better than good you'd have Cthulhu or Yog-Sothoth (catchy names, I bet Lovecraft typed like Bill) or one of their squamous buddies knocking at your door in no time, going, "You called?". However, to paraphrase some damn philosopher, we're all stuck with what we're stuck with, so . . . Kicks just keep getting harder to find I have, okay? Jesus, nobody bitched at me for doing drugs while I was doing them, now that I've quit, I'm getting all the damn lectures. I know it was stupid, lighten up (and when has stupid ever been an impediment to Bill Bitner and his behavior? It's usually more like an incentive . . . ). And while, yes, I am smarter than this, I kept telling myself since I wasn't taking that shit for the buzz, but simply to function, I wasn't really abusing it. Unfortunately, I forgot to inform the old ticker. So it informed me. Anyway, I'm feeling better- not well, but better- got some e-mails after last issue, including one from an MD (I know it was legit cos I know the guy) postulating that a number of my complaints were consistent with having been poisoned. It got my attention, thnking these folks might not be too far off the mark, cos there toward the end I was doing so much of the stuff I was having to get it from what may charitably be called "unreliable sources", so I could well have gotten hold of something not kosher, but I had a tox screen run since last issue- and I NEVER go to the doctor, so this shows how much creedence I gave this theory, cos all through that mess it didn't feel so much like I was sick, but that there was something wrong with me- and the results are that I have the untainted blood of a youth. Yeah, I know, all over my wrestling boots, but what's in my veins, Doc? Apparently the same. Go figure. And I still have the heart of a fucking lion. And the brain of a chimpanzee. (THEY'RE VERY HIGHLY SEXED, THEM CHIMPANZEES). No shit. (THEY CAN ALSO TURN THEMSELVES INSIDE OUT AND DISAPPEAR). Not today, Nature Boy. Other than addressing Bill's health, not a lot else in the mail bag, got one e-mail complaining I got too graphic in the old Bunny Christine story last issue (not exactly sure where, since they weren't specific), and one complaining it wasn't graphic enough. I'm leaning toward the second opinion myself. Maybe next time we'll do more of a blow by blow, so to speak, recounting. Or maybe not. Depends on how tanked I am at the time. "I think being in tune's overrated." Bill Bitner Today marks the tenth- God have mercy- anniversary of the fabulous Tang Spoons live at the Roxy theater. Sweet Jesus in a flying saucer, there's just NO WAY. I concede, that was a whole other lifetime ago, those days- but that show still feels really recent, certainly not a damn decade ago. Some of you were there, Joe, of course, and Dave and Jean and Geri and Kat- does it seem like ten years ago to you? In honor of the date (and to do that BB masochistic torture thing I'm so damnably prone to) I got the tape out and watched it earlier today (actually yesterday, Tuesday). God, I still roll on the floor everytime I look at the gigantic poster Rachie, age 7 at the time, made for us as a backdrop, which we dutifully taped up, and which got a lot of "What the hell's?" from the crowd- around 200, there wasn't, and I'm sure still isnt, a lot to do in Clendenin on a Friday night- she drew it across a dozen or so sheets of paper and taped them together, it was to illustrate the song "Since Daddy Came Back From Hell" and I think it's supposed to be the Devil, or me, one, but the horns came out sorta like bunny ears so it looks more like "Since The Trix Rabbit Came Back From Hell", and it's easily one of the most charming and hilarious things the child ever did. Priceless. Between viewings I always forget just how disappointingly ghastly the sound is on the tape, all the more discouraging since it was really good live, especially early in the set, but some turd from the Roxy mis-ran the sound from the board into the camera, Howdy I'm A Bumpkin or whatever his fucking name was, Clem or Cleetus or Clemcleetus- (I HAD CLEMCLEETUS ONCE) -Stop- (CAUGHT IT FROM THIS OLD PLAYBOY BUNNY NAMED)- -I said STOP, dammit, anyway, he's also the one who got all worked up over the vulgarity and profanity spewing from my gin drunk lips on stage, on rewatching, most of the offensive language actually came from the lyrics, not Bill's stage patter, about 2/3rds of the way through the set he came down and said something to Loretta and pissed her off (at me), pissed her off worse when, after she told me of the guy's complaint, I wouldn't stop swearing on stage- my take on something like that was, and is, man's got a problem with me, he needs to speak to me, not my woman- (MAYBE HE WAS SKEERT TO). I don't know why he would be. (MAYBE HE WAS AFRAID YOU'D GIVE HIM CLEMCLEETUS OR SOMETHING). You're not going to let that go, are you? (NOT ANYTIME SOON). I think I've threatened to put the set list from that memorable night in here before but have never done so, at least I couldn't find it in the half hearted search I just made through past March issues, if it's already in the archives somewhere, and I'm having a real deja vu moment here, how about we all get over it, cos, as always, how you like the price? The name behind the song is who got over with it, not necessarily who wrote it, TS means Tang Spoons and all TS songs were written by yours truly, everything was also sung by Bill except @ means Joe sang it, # means Bobby sang it, and $ (how fitting) means Loretta sang it. Tang Spoons set list, Roxy Theater, 3-7-97- Roadrunner (Bo Diddley), Someone Else's Dog (TS), Bootlicker (TS), All Along The Watchtower@ (Dylan/Hendrix), Since Daddy Came Back From Hell$ (TS), Naked Girl Falling Down The Stairs (Cramps), Secret Agent Man (Johnny Rivers) A Threshing Of Limbs (TS, and containing the immortal line "Dee Dee says I need more suntan grease"- I know I never wrote a song sober in my life, but I was DAMN drunk when I wrote that one), Wipeout (Surfaris), Land Of The Lost (Wipers), Gloria (Them/Doors/ten million 60's garage bands), I Saw The Light (Hank Williams SENIOR- the day you hear me playing a HW Jr. song is the day you lost your mind cos I hate that gizzard lipped grease ball piece of shit- and no, I'm NOT ready for some football, you fish head motherfucker), When The Levee Breaks# (Led Zeppelin), Goodbye (You Asshole)$ (TS), I Can't Get It Off My Mind (TS), Stop Your Sobbing$ (Kinks/Pretenders), So You Want to Be A Rock And Roll Star (Byrds), Burning Down The House (Talking Heads), Frying Pan (Captain Beefheart), I Just Want To Make Love To You (Willie Dixon/Foghat). Odd set list in retrospect, a lot of our better stuff left off (we did an excellent version of The Beatles- which in first draft was spelled bewtels- "Come Together", believe it or not, also where was "Sweet Jane", "Orangedriver", "The Last Time", "We Gotta Get Out Of This Place", or a half dozen others, fuck's sake, where's "Summrtime Blues"- which there ain't no cure for?). One reason the set fades towards the end is cos Loretta refused to sing two really strong late set songs cos she was mad at me ("Sweet 69", Babes In Toyland, and "Don't Slander Me", Roky Erikson- "Don't slander me, Bill", "It's not slander if its true"), which both rocked like fuck and would have certainly punched up the last third of the set, but NO, she had to put her bitch face on, in all seriousness, who GIVES A FUCK if Clemcleetus- don't, you- is all worked up, who the fuck was he to us, we never saw him before that day and never saw him after, but it was an excuse to get pissed at Bill, so she took it. Moving on- ten years, I'm telling you, it's not POSSIBLE- those globe trotting Bitner girls are at it again. Due in part to her pumped up GPA, Sarah will spend her fall semester next year studying at Roxton U., in the UK. God bless, you go, little girl. Sarah also met Jonny Lang a few weeks ago after a concert he did somewhere close to FDU, took some photos, but she didn't like the one of him and her so she didn't send it, she said the concert was fantastic, and he was as nice as he could be. So I'd say if you get a chance to see Jonny Lang in concert, do so.
Sarah will be spending the entire summer in WV, Rachel should be in for at least 3 weeks in August once she gets back from jet setting. Which is a good thng, she needs to spend more time here cos she is LOSING TOUCH, in our phone conversation last week she absolutely ripped my goddamn heart out though my back, when she referred to Loretta and Paul as "my parents". Ten years ago she spends hours and hours drawing a poster for me, her DADDY, now I hear from her maybe once a month if I'm lucky, and she's calling that adulterous spasm her parent? I jack off bigger squirts than him. Fuck me RUNNING. I didn't let on that it destroyed me like it did though whle we were on the phone, just yelled "Your wha-? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?" (scared the piss out of poor Al, "I didn't say anything, honest!") and slammed the phone down and then kicked it across the room. Like I said, I took it well. My mom is about the same, had to do the "take a SHOWER" thing with her again today, told her I understand she's still grieving, and I'll put up with a lot of things, but old woman stink is not on the list. She does miss him immensely, and I understand it completely, so do I, we were trying to watch a Cubs game Sunday and it was all we could do to sit through it, it just didn't seem right without my Dad's acerbic, and (more often than not unintentionally) hilarious commentary. He was a funny, funny man. A good one, too. Al's pretty much the same, fading, but still capable of occasional bursts of his old self, I get him out of the house on the afternoons I'm there and he comes and goes, alertness wise, he spends a lot of his time now in the evenings flat eyed and listless- just wish he'd sleep better. He's gotten to where he takes everything he sees on TV in total seriousness, I had to turn off the X-Files the other week cos it was scaring him, legit, they're showing old APEX footage on the public access channel in Huntington, just the other night Al came back downstairs for about the tenth time while I was watching it, "Stay up a few minutes, Al, you can see me on TV", "Okay", when DFZ's match (with Hillbilly, imagine that, I only wrestled that fucker nine thousand times) comes up- Al: That's you in the black? Sad/funny thing is, he was not kidding. B: No, Al. Let's watch some Food Network. What's Bill been doing since last issue? Movie Club went and saw Ghost Rider weekend before last, take my strongest recommendation and take a pass (or take a piss, as the first draft recommended), it wasn't that it was so much horrible, as vacuous, after it was over my only reaction was "I just sat and watched two hours of absolutely nothing". Nick Cage was either asleep or dead during most of his scenes- I mean in real life, not plot wise- Eva Mendes is super hot, but there are better things to see her in- like bondage gear, in Bill's bedroom- Peter Fonda is awful and the always likeable Sam Elliot is wasted. Save your $5.50, buy alcohol. As Bill did before the movie. We all met at Blues and BBQ, used to be Top Cats, before that Chef Dan's, I didn't eat, but those who did said the food was good, I drank some Harpoon IPA on draft, great stuff, they have a really good beer selection, you should check it out- while you can, cos I don't think business is all that good. We then went up to Chris's for some DVD watching, drinking and cigar smoking, drank some Harpoon Hibernian ale and some home brew, maybe some other stuff, I don't remember, also that weekend both Joe and Laura's son Gordon, and Doug and Rosa's son Alex, turned eighteen. Yeah . . . eighteen. Somebody, HELP ME. "The ironic thing is, I make my living writing comics, but I don't know the history of the characters". Paul Somebody. I forget his last name, didn't write it down, the quote is accurate, cos I did write it down. This fucked up memory thing is starting to both bother and concern me, I never- as in up to a few months ago- had to write anything down to remember it, now I can't remember shit if I don't. And that definitely isn't me. Hope I haven't caught Al's Alzheimer's. Or- go ahead and say it- (CLEMCLEETUS). Anyway, Paul, (may not know your last name, but I know I don't care for your first name, that's for damn sure) what it is, is not ironic, but pathetic. You and your clueless ilk are why comics suck so hard anymore- cos you don't even know who the fuck you're writing about. I can't even begin to imagine the incompetence and arrogance behind trying to write a comic, and not researching and wholly understanding the character's background. You lazy fucking puke. If I ever meet you I swear to God I will knock you fucking out, I don't care if you're seven feet tall and built like Tarzan. Although I suspect you're not. So, what has Bill been reading? Lots of on line stuff when I'm home, most all of it wrestling, or comic or music related- you know, high culture- mostly mystery stuff during the long nights at Al's, Robert Parker- the very first three Spenser novels, it's not MacDonald (or McDonald), but good, George Pelicanos- not bad, but again I don't understand the adulation, my Mom likes him- okay, that creeps me out- because of all the, according to her, spot on accurate DC geography he incorporates, the last one we read- the name escapes me, and I just read it last week, this is truly not funny, and again, wholly atypical- one of the characters hangs out in the actual bar that was across the street from the apartment where my Mom and Aline lived in DC in the early 50's- Simon Kendrick, Brit writer I've talked about in here before, I figure you'd like him, Chris, but the books are consecutive so try and start with the first one The Business Of Dying- okay, I remembered THAT- and work your way through. What's Bill been writing? Just you wait and see . . . but I may have some exciting news here fairly soon. What's Bill drinking? Rolling Rock, but not tons of it. Tired. And I still need to find a new regular beer, RR is okay as a stop gap, but not what I'm looking for full time. Any suggestions, send 'em in. About a new regular beer, that is, any others, keep 'em to yourself . . . if I could go fuck myself, believe me, I would. I can't remember the place or the time What's Bill listeing to? Got a lot of CDs recently from Music Masters Worldwide, not SSSLB really cos they weren't cheap, but as some of you have noted in the past, Bill listens to a LOT of music, I listen to music like a lot of you watch TV, hours and hours at a time in the evening (here at home, anyway) while I either read or write. So- Drop Out With The Barracudas, part of the late 70's/early 80's garage band revival, good stuff, sometimes a little too deliberately/obviously retro for me, but at their best they sound a lot like the Flamin' Groovies from that same time period, if not quite on that level. Next, Padded Lounge by Fabulon Triptometer, I remember when this came out in the early 90's all the altrenative music magazines I was reading at the time praised the hell out of it, best heavy psychedelic album in twenty years, sounded good to me, as we all know how Bill loves his psychedelia, especially the heavy kind, but it was damn near impossible to find back then, even by mail order, so when I saw it had been reissued I jumped on it. There's no way it could live up to it's hype, and it doesn't, it's good, but not over the top great like I was hoping for. Having said that, if all the songs were as killer as "Psychosis Of The Worm", it would be as good as advertised and then some. Took a chance- it's only money- on a double live comp by Man, a band I've been reading things about since the early 70's- they formed in '68- but have never heard a note by. They seemed like something I'd like, a Welsh psych band- the Welsh are a fey, fey bunch- (ONLY WELSHMAN I EVER SAW LOOKED LIKE BORIS BADENOV AND LAID OUT BULLWINKLE WITH A SIDE OF BEEF). - that's not fey to you? Anyway, Wales is a foggy, boggy place where all the road signs look like they were typed first draft by a cross eyed drunken Bill, I figured a jamming bunch of crazy fucked up Welshmen would be well worth hearing, and I was right. I've seen Man descibed as a "Welsh Grateful Dead" (ugh) but I think they sound a lot more like Fillmore era Allman Brothers, if the Bros dropped more acid and smoked less pot. The comp stretches from the 70's through the 80's, and the 70's stuff is way better, which makes sense, as the 70's were only a billion times better than the 80's. Did I say a billion? I meant infinity times better. Couple more, No More Heroes by the Stranglers, weakest of their first three albums, but it's still got the excellent title song and "Straighten Out", and that amazing bass (how sweet the) sound, also a comp by Goblin, this (imagine) heavy Italian psych band who got into doing soundtrack work for (justifiably) acclaimed Italian director Dario Argento, I got this on a whim but I like it a lot, goes from heavy psych stuff like "Profondo Rosso (Main title)" to pretty stuff like "Chi? Pt 1" to really creepy stuff like "L'alba dei Morti Viventi" which I think is Italian for "Song To Creep Bill Out". Actually got quite few more new CDs, but this isn't The Big Takeover so we'll save them for later, and just discuss one more. This would be L.A. Explosion by the Last, and this isn't just a good album, its an INSANELY GOOD album, I fucking love it, recorded in February '79, it echoes of every fucking great band from the Beatles on, sometimes a Beatle-ish harmony, or a surf guitar quote, or Doorsy keyboard, even a Ramones/Clash type riff, but without ever sounding like any of them, they weld this stuff seamlessly into their own sound, very impressive. This album has strong playing, pretty but not "pretty" lead and back vocals, and best of all great, GREAT songs, with wonderful melodies and intelligent, heartfelt lyrics, songs like "She Don't Know Why I'm Here", "Every Summer Day" ("Don't wanna grow up, I never want to leave/Getting older's only gonna bring me misery/Let me stay . . . "), "Someone's Laughng" ("behind my back")- (HE SHOULD BUST 'EM IN THE FUCKING MOUTH) I think this guy is a little more sensitive than you. (COULD BE WHY THEY'RE LAUGHING) Could be. Anyway, this is a great album and I've listened to it a jillon times since I got it. I've only listened to all the others half a jillion times. "Don't you know I done beat that Master Gee into POLIO?" Hacksaw Butch Reed, Mid South Championship Wrestling. Heading toward the wrestling section, first a couple obituaries to report, Scott "Bam Bam" Bigelow dead at 45, OD'ed on coke and benzo-something. Also, Mike Awesome dead at 42, suicide, hung himself. For fuck's sake, guys. Also redux, just read that "Bad News" Allen Coage died yesterday, age 63- didn't realize he was that old- after being taken to the hospital with (ahem) chest pains. RIP, all of you, but two of you need your damn hands slapped. DFZ worked in Lubeck last weekend, don't think it was Hardcore Hell, though, just a regular card- with that bunch, it's hard to tell. And I didn't have to worry about Juggz bringng that damnable tack bat- he brought his staple gun, instead. Cindy (Fandango's wife) called me- I don't know, sometime since the last issue- saying, "will you do this gimmick match, no one else will do it", I say, "yeah, fuck I don't care," THEN ask, "What kind of match"- I know, I know, I did it backwards.
And I was right, staples don't really hurt all that much, the only one that really stung was the one into my upper thigh- Juggulator- I'm gonna act like I'm stapling your balls, so sell like
crazy. Like I was kidding. Must've looked good though cos beside the crowd the boys in the back all bought it, after the match Max Rock goes- M: Did he really staple you in the balls? Anyway, I have to say that one hurt pretty bad, even worse than the one into the back of my neck "Try and miss the spine, okay?", Juggz took two to the forehead, got a little hard way juice from them, as did I from the one into my bicep, but overall we just went easy. The face Juggulator actually won the match, putting #7 into DFZ first, but Danny had the referee distracted- I knew I brought him along for some reason- when Juggz went to get the ref Danny tossed me his (Chris's) kendo stick, DFZ laid it into Juggz from behind, hit him with a White Russian and that was all she wrote, DFZ put the last dollar bill right between Juggz eyes and retained his EWE Hardcore title. After the match someone collected the bloody dollar bills we used and put them in the concession stand change box- I know, my gosh- and grossed the fuck out of some poor little kid who bought a slice of pizza and got a bloody stapled up dollar in return. Far and away the worst part of the whole match was taking a suplex onto a metal chair- that some idiot set up in the middle of the ring. (I DID THAT.) I know. You were supposed to suplex HIM on it. (FUCKER REVERSED IT. WHAT CAN I SAY?) You can say you're sorry, cos it hit me right acros the small of my back where it was already sore from the match in Rand, everyone in the car later was going, "Man, you hit that chair wrong", uhm, guys, you act like I had some say in it, when you get suplexed you're gonna land where the other guy throws you, case closed. To make it worse, later in the cluster fuck finale some guy hit me in the back with a chair, it was one of John's fucking trainees who obviously hasn't progressed to chair swinging class yet, you always hit the guy acoss the shoulders, NEVER the small of the back where this numb nuts got me, that's okay, he's got a lesson on proper chair swinging technique coming from DFZ ("see, this is how you're NOT supposed to do it"), it was outside the ring, I went down from it legit, while I'm lying there someone kicks me, hard, feels like pointy ass street shoes, now I'm really pissed, I jump up cos I'm gonna take this trainee to fucking school, working in street shoes- to see some wizened old skeezix from the crowd hustling away from the scene of the crime, he's who kicked me. I had to laugh, cos it was funny, but if he's there next time I'm gonna make sure he knows not to do it again, for real, marks do NOT need to get the impression that they can lay hands, or pointy ass street shoes, on the talent without payig the price. It's not safe. Once back in town we all (Bill, Danny, Joe, PG) went again to Blues and BBQ for some draft Harpoon, I'm telling you, the stuff's great, we went through $65 worth in two hours, not at all hard to do at $3.75 a beer, and we even got a round for free cos the wait staff was even more buzzed than we were. The place was criminally uncrowded, Alan "your boob's about to fall out" Griffiths was playing, he's buds with Danny, he sat and drank with us between sets, very likable and entertaining chap. A very good time was had by all. And I think that's going to be it for this issue. Started on "Bill Versus The Jaguars" to finish this issue off, got six paragraphs of gibbersih down before coming to the reluctant conclusion that there's more tale here than I have energy left tonight to tell. If now were then I could call on some outside assistance and write all fucking night, but it is now, and I can't. Or more precisely, won't. (TIME TO TURN INSIDE OUT AND DISAPPEAR). When I was a young boy I learned not to care Anything else? (CLEMCLEETUS). Clemcleetus to you, too. Till next time, folks, so long from the Peach State of Georgia. (GOD, I MISS GORDON SOLIE). I miss 1979. Later Bill
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"I jus' done whupped the man, wit' my hat on. You understand what
I'm sayin', Gordon Solie? I just done WHUPPED the man. WIT' MY HAT
ON." Dusty Rhodes, Georgia Championship Wrestling
And Rachel will be spending three weeks in July in Eastern Europe-
Berlin, then Estonia, Lithuania, and Latvia (where the highlight of the
itinerary is meeting with a member of the town council- what do you want,
it's Latvia, and how many of us can say we've been there?), then to St.
Petersburg, Russia (that should be damn cool, no pun intended), then to
Prague (be sure to ask them who's the baddest motherfucker there, baby,
then when they answer DFZ tell them "That's my Daddy"), then on
to Warsaw and Krakow, Poland. Sounds like a great, great trip.
Turns out I agreed to an Unlucky 13 match, where the first guy to
staple gun 7 dollar bills to the other wins. Yes, I know it's stupid.
Actually, though, once I got my mind right about it- how much can staples
hurt, really?"- I was looking forward to a blood bath, I had my gigs
and blood thinner all lined up, but Juggz turned out not to be up to it.
He was well and truly sick, and looked it, both pallid and jaundiced, he's
got some kind of generalized infection, as well as this bad lung and sinus
thing going, got a black eye, his forehead was all sliced up, he was like
"Can we just go easy tonight?" So we did.