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3/8/03 You Can't House Break A Monkey I wish that I knew what I know now Hey This one's coming out a little sooner than planned, but some of you know the Death Falcon got hurt again last Sunday, and have expressed your concerns, so I'm just gonna update everyone at once, it's easier. Also, think I'm gonna try to get through this one without using the F-word or the L-word. Should be a short one this time, eh? Firstly, as to why we got canned last weekend, best I can get from Bob is this, and I'm not asking him anymore, cos every time I do, it gets more complicated. All wrestling events have to be sanctioned by the Athletic Commission. The previous commissioner was this old rummy, Bob said he saw him once a year when he'd renew his promoter's license. This guy retired and his replacement, who started 2/1, unbeknownst to anyone, is this hotshot woman, who immediately started attending all sanctioned events- as well she should, I have no problem with that at all, and neither does Bob, I personally have no use for government officials who just take the damn money and run. The Ohio wrestling group that also uses the Armory were there the weekend before us. They posture as a "hardcore" league, and are gigging crazy, which is illegal in Kentucky, whereas incidental blood, as in a boxing match, or a wrestling match where some guy busts another guy's head with a metal box, is not- don't ask me to explain that in a way that makes sense, cos I can't. Ms. Commissioner attends the Ohio guys event, they blade 4 straight matches, she shut them down right then, they allegedly tried bribing her, which made it that much worse, she jumped on the Armory people immensely, they got pissed, said wrestling's too much trouble, pulled the facility out from under Bob. They have that right, but the Armory bastard waited till the day of the damn show to inform Bob, which was punk ass in the extreme. Anyway, Bob's looking for a new venue, if nothing else he say's we'll run 'em out of the building where we train (I'm good with that, it'll be garage wrestling to the extreme, and as we all know, I'm a garage kind of guy). Bob knew I was quite distraught at missing my chance to meet with Mark Mercedes and talk with him about working for him in Australia, so he invited me to ride up to Cleveland with the two of them (Bob's damn good to me for some reason), plus Lady Madison (whoo, more on that later). I thought it was for some All Pro shit, not hardly, Mark was wrestling a dark match for Smackdown. Even though it was dark, they still tape them, Mark said they told him it went well enough that they might use it, he wrestled J. R. Ryder, so those of you who watch WWE, keep an eye out for it. We didn't stick around, Mark was in a vile temper, said the WWE big dogs disrespected the shit out of him in the locker room, didn't like his outfit, didn't like his HAIR, bullshit like that, the only WWE "Superstar" I met was Matt Hardy, I wasn't impressed, the DF would kick his real life ass on any street corner in this country, trust me. In fact, Mark was surly the whole weekend, not at all personable like I've heard Aussie's are, he was downright hateful a couple times with Bob. He was also way too damn macho for me (and those of you going, what's your problem with that, look, as anyone reading this who actually knows me will tell you, 99% of my macho riffing in this thing is totally tongue in cheek- that other 1% will kill you, though, so watch it). Bob said this trip isn't going the way Mark would like it. I'm familiar with that. Lady Madison, real name Alexis, she goes by Alex, however, was a treat, 6', 120 athletic pounds, all of 18 years old, and absolutely cute as damn button, truly adorable. We rode up in the back seat together, she was very sweet, at one point she said, "I hope I get a chance to wrestle you tomorrow,", I told her, "Dear, you don't have to wait until tomorrow" and the poor thing blushed down to her damn toes. Tomorrow, however, came and- ouch. Before he committed, Mark wanted to see how I could work in the ring, so- four hours. Four- oh, how I'd love to use that word right now- hours. First for a while with Bucky and a couple other new guys- Bob calls them "our students", Jesus, he kills me, he absolutely KILLS me- but I have to admit, that dang Bucky is starting to grow on me some, he's a total rolling disaster, but he's got spunk. Like Lou Grant said to Mary Richards- "You've got spunk. I hate spunk." Then Kris from Team Old School- I like working him a lot, he's good, VERY good, in fact, then me and Bob worked on some spots for our match, if we can ever take it to the ring, it's gonna be GOOD, then me and Alex, she wrestles lots of mixed matches Down Under, apparently, at one point I had her in a hammerlock and pulled in real tight, nuts to butt, which is how I do it with the boys, too, Bob says "I think Bill's enjoying this", Alex mutters "I KNOW he is," HA. Then, dear God, 40 minutes of tag team, me and Bob against Mark and Jeremy (the Beast). I was far and away the smallest- let me rephrase that, the lightest- guy in there. Bob and Jeremy both go around 240, Mark's stats in the PWI 500 (he's #396) say he's 6'3", 309 pounds, I'd say that's a little high on the weight, but he's a big guy, and stiffer than shit. Piledriver, spear, power bomb, clothesline from hell (and I'm giving more secrets away here, but those really tough, stiff clotheslines are all chest to chest, the arm never even hits you, and I have to say again, I LOVE working with these guys who really know their craft, instead of going out and mixing it up with scruffy old Hamburger Breath McStinkfinger in some Ohio barn). Still, very rough on the old DF. No one was up for a Falcon Arrow (pussies), but I did throw a Roaring Elbow dead square into Mark's temple that I guarantee got his attention, plus drop a senton off the top rope onto Jeremy, and whiplashed the shit out of my own neck by not tucking tight enough. Mark liked it though, he commented "Nice senton, Jappy," which is what he called me for some reason. Jappy. Did I mention he's not PC either? The good news- I'm good to go to Australia in August- IF the money's there. Always a catch. Bob says another reason Mark was not in a good mood is finances. Join the damn club. Mark did say if I wanted to pay my own way over he'd put me to work anytime. That's fine, except I don't want to pay my own way over there. May sing a different tune this fall. The bad- I couldn't get out of bed Monday. That's not an exaggeration, I could barely move. It wasn't any one thing, it was just too much of all of it. Every toss, and throw and slam that you take, all of it ends the same way, coming down on your shoulders and flat of your feet, and in those 4 hours I'd say I came down on my back close to 200 times. When I woke up Monday morning the soles of my feet were on fire, my ankles were swollen twice their normal size, my neck (which was my own fault, no, dammit, it was his, chin to chest when you do a senton you idiot Death Falcon) (YOU'RE RIGHT, DUDE, SORRY) was KILLING me, and my shoulders were bruised absolutely black from my neck to the bottom of the shoulder blades, which is gospel, Rachel was helping me get my shirt off Tuesday morning (today's the first day I've been able to tie my shoes, as for wiping my ass- man, you don't wanna know) and freaked when she saw it. The girls missed school Monday cos I couldn't get out of bed to take them, treated myself hard all day with pain killer- 4 Motrin (one of my old nurses, Martha, once told me that 4 was the hospital dosage - uhm, I meant old as in previous, not aged, okay?) and a double shot of WT 101 (hey, what's the hospital dosage on that?) as needed- was able to get them to school the rest of the week, other than that, and going grocery shopping once- had to, we had no food here- spent the week in bed, ran a temp of about 101 all week as well, not sure why. This past week is still pretty hazy- Rachel helped me go shopping, a good idea in principal, but we ended up with $120 worth of various forms of refined sugar. Rachel had milkshakes for supper one night, cake and ice cream another, pie and ice cream another, a dozen doughnuts still another- it was quite a sight, watching her buzz about the ceiling like some dreadnaught hummingbird. Man, I just didn't care, and her beatific smile was a sight to see. They were both very sweet, though, very good to their daddy while he was laid up, we should do a commercial like that one for the peanut butter- "Dad, do you need anything?" "Just go away and let me die." Then Rachel can bring me the bottle of Wild Turkey. "You got this for me?" She gives that sweet ass smile and engaging nod like that kid in the commercial does. "Put the bottle to Daddy's lips. Aaaah." And fade. Feeling better, but not well, still sore, but moving, still feverish, might be from drinking all that whiskey this week. So- I'm cutting back on this wrestling stuff. Made the cut for Australia- and, dammit, I'm pretty pleased with myself (YOU MEAN YOU'RE PLEASED WITH ME) that this guy can wrestle on Smackdown, and I can get in the ring with him the next day and hang, and hang HARD, by God- so I'm taking this week and next off, totally, gonna start just going to Ashland on Sundays, that should be plenty. Supposed to go to Cleveland tomorrow for All Pro, I bailed, no way can I work tomorrow, supposed to go up 22/23 for TV taping, still good for that.
My Under Armour came in this week, I like it a lot, ordered a Large when I'm actually an Extra Large (ahem) so it'd fit real tight, it does, looks good, and should keep that crap off my back. What's Bill drinking? Bud. I know it was a wet week, but that was medication, this is chilling beer. Really like to be doing this out on Joe's dock, but I just didn't feel up to driving out there. Nice to see the sun, however, hope it's sunny wherever you may be. Saw somewhere that the sun was only out here 4 days in February.
So why am I listening to it? Well, the songs I like, I like.
My dad would be good in a role like that, sort of ("That for you, you Nazi bastard, now where's my sugar pills?"), and that reminds me, he's planning on coming to a match soon, don't sit near him, cos I'm gonna bait his ass unmercifully from the ring, what do you want to bet I can have him foaming at the mouth and trying to get at me for real? Dagon also brings us back to Lovecraft, Steve reminded me what an anti-Semite old H.P. was, man, ain't that the truth. Lovecraft used to crack on Jews in his stories, that was nothing, I've read some of his letters and he was almost Hitlerian in his frothing about mongrel races, and how they should be dealt with. Yow. By the way, Steve, I should be seeing you fairly soon, let's pick a date then to get together and watch some movies.
Holy shit. Martha, was I supposed to meet you yesterday for lunch, or next Friday? What else? Well, someone, one of the someone's who was asking for diet advice, actually, sent me an e-mail this week asking what ground glass was, and where could she get some. I can only hope she was kidding (of course you were, right?- Right?) but just in case, ground glass is just what it sounds like, and will guarantee you a slow and inordinately painful death. Actually, sweetie, I was trying to be a smart ass, while also sort of taking the piss out of myself for trying to come across as some type diet expert. You could do worse than follow that plan (omitting the ground glass and alcohol) though, and I was truly flattered that you'd want to use me as your ingestion role model. Think I will make this a short one. When I get a date and location for our next event, I'll let all of you know, I want to say again I appreciate how many of you were gonna turn out last time, when it does happen, I'll make it worth you whiles, trust me. (AND TRUST ME). Yeah, right. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be in this shape. (IF IT WASN'T FOR ME, YOU'D BE EVEN CRAZIER THAN YOU ARE)
Poor young grandson Later Bill
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I wish that I knew what I know now 
David said he drank some Murphy's Red lately, an Irish import, and it
was really good. Tell you what, how about I drink one of yours next time
I'm up there to see if I like it, cos the only Irish red I've ever had
was Killian's and I absolutely HATE that. Of course, that's not Irish,
nor is it an import, it's nasty old Miller with red food dye in it.
What's Bill listening to? Best of Faces. Had the CD a couple years,
actually, I'm pretty disappointed in it, wouldn't really recommend it.
It has the singles, "Stay With Me," nice chugging riff, most
people know it, used to like it a lot as a kid, but as I get old and
senile, it kind of puts me off with its mean spiritedness, "Cindy,
Incidentally", "You can Make Me Dance etc", not bad, the
really fine "Ooh La La", which I heard the other day on a car
commercial, God bless it, but there's too many mid-tempo samey things on
here. Their Best Of LP, Snakes And Ladders, was better, had stuff like
"Silicone Grown", this guy complaining cos his girl messed up
a perfectly good set and got a boob job (I'm with ya, Rod, "You got
more front than the Haig museum" he bitches, ha)- "Around The
Plynth" with this wicked, wicked slide, and an excellent, if
goofily titled, instrumental, "The Pineapple And The Monkey".
Didn't watch Dagon last week cos I was in Cleveland, Joe taped it for
me, I'll let you know once I've watched it if it was any good. Jason
taped "Crumb" off IFC for me, about underground comic artist
R. Crumb, should be good movie club fodder, Jason watched it, said Crumb
and his family are crazier than bed bugs. So I've heard, and his brother
has since committed suicide. Jason's also gonna tape "The American
Nightmare" for me, about US underground horror film makers, should
be good.
I did watch "Return To Salem's Lot" on SciFi earlier today,
mostly cos it was too much trouble to get up and change the channel- my
remote doesn't work, I don't want to talk about it- it was lousy, as
might be expected, zoned out Michael Moriarity makes a strange choice
for an action hero, but Sam Fuller- yeah, DIRECTOR Sam Fuller- was
absolutely wonderful as this old Nazi Hunter ("Nazi hunter my ass,
I'm a Nazi killer") who, I don't know, just shows up, I forget why.
Later, after he's hurt, Mike goes "You must be in a lot of
pain." "Keeps me alert," Sam shrugs.
Speaking of dates, Sarah's going out tonight with a kid named Space
Monkey. Last week it was a kid named Orion. Jesus Christ, where's that
whiskey?
Touche.