Turn around, go back down
Back the way you came . . .

I believe in things that just aren't true today

Hey

Well . . . here we go, one more match in the feud that never ends, aka Bill Versus Electronica, Electronica being that whey faced, chicken chested, pot bellied, fat assed, pin dicked, BB balled Lord Floppoon of all tools not a stick or a rock (the only ones a real man needs), who hates me not only for my he man manliness but because of my big brain braininess, who can just take his jealousy filled ass and tap the fuck out RIGHT NOW, cos God knows I'M not going to (and by the way, since last issue MOI disappeared I've had three more simple, written while sober, e-mails of the "You wanna get fucked up on Saturday?" variety follow it into oblivion, so it's not just the NL, or drinking heavily while at the computer that's the problem).

(IT'S THAT MOTHERFUCKER ELECTRONICA. WE'RE GONNA KILL HIM SOMEDAY).

Yes, we fucking are. Someday soon, I hope.

Lot of stuff from the first MOI is going to be lost to posterity cos I dont feel like going back two plus months to try and remember and recreate, even if I could, and I don't think I can- sorry. I do appreciate that my incoming e-mails have gotten increasingly frantic, "Where's the newsletter?!", absence in this case at least indeed making the heart grow fonder. Well, here it is, and I've missed you, too.

Part of the reason for the unprecedented gap in NLs, aside from that motherfucker Electronica, is that I been busy, and I been sick. We'll talk about sick first.

I've had this horrible, not to mention persistant as fuck, respiratory thing going on for over two months now, the coughing is under control at the moment (the nasal drip not so much) but a while back it was damn near life threatening. I coughed so hard and long (hard and long normally being a good thing, but not in this case) back in early March I ended up doing my best Val Kilmer as Doc Holiday impersonation, bringing up lung blood for two straight days, that second day I also coughed so hard I busted some blood vessels in my eyes and went around for days afterward with them all damn blood shot, or, rather, more blood shot than ususal. I was so sick I went over three weeks without drinking so much as a single beer-

(I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD)

- so did my liver. DFZ kept wrestling through all this shit, but it wasn't easy, in fact, if not for Falcon's Little Helper I don't think I'd have made it through at all. Also, through all this, I've had this nasty, slow brained, head filled with cotton feeling, exactly like having a concussion. I can't remember the last concussion I got- probably not a good sign- but I'm pretty sure I don't have one now. But it sure feels like it.

As for busy- Jesus. Never had less free time in my entire life than at this moment. Between Al, my Mom, DFZ, and a couple other commitments, the only time in a normal week I don't have something scheduled is Sunday nights- which I'm using to get pounded as fuck, like now. I've been lucky enough to have DFZ inactive two out of the past three weekends. No point in getting used to it, though, as between now and July 4 he only has two more weekends off- both of which I'm using to go see my girls, the first to NJ to see Sarah, the second to MD for Rachel's high school graduation (should it happen).

No even remotely funny stories about Al or my Mom this time around. Pretty much all Al does anymore, between futile doctor appointments, is stare at the walls and shit up his back two or three times a day. As for my Mom . . . don't lets start, okay?

I'm not just busy- I'm TIRED. It's all I can do to drag myself out of bed in the morning, and it doesn't get any better throughout the course of the day. Working out anymore is just murder on a stick- but I still do it.

(THAT'S WHY WE'RE KING).

I knew there had to be some reason. Here's a good workout you can do without any outside equipment- 20 Hindu squats (if you don't hate Hindu squats, you've never done them)-

(I JUST HATE HINDUS)

-well, keep it to yourself-

(TOO LATE)

-20 push ups, 20 lunges (each leg) 20 frog jumps, 20 diamond push ups. Doesn't sound that bad, you say? I agree. But you're supposed to go through the cycle five times. Not that I can't do it five times, cos I can, and do, but if you can get into the third or fourth cycle without going, "Jesus, this SUCKS" you're a better man, or woman, than I.

Speaking of the girls, they were in for their respective spring breaks last month, Sarah for a week, Rachel for five days, and it was typically wonderful to have them here, and just as typically I went into my usual tail spin once they'd left. I know it's not healthy for one person's happiness to be so dependent on another person, or persons, but as we all know, mental health has never been my strong suite.

Sarah saw Roky Erikson, who's like the Beatles and Jesus and Martian Manhunter combined in our house- I can't remember now, sometime since the last real NL, live in New York City, with absolute non-wanker guitar hero Cam King on killer lead (the live "Casting The Runes" has some of my favorite guitar work ever on it), she said the show was fucking great, and I'm as jealous as I can damn be, which is a lot. I'll send you some photos, Joe.

As for Rachel, she got accepted into whatever college it was in Miami she applied to, as well as to Concord- they both must accept by personality, not GPA- good news, although I still strongly want her to go to Concord- and I'm pretty sure she won't. Bad, and possibly dated news, since I haven't spoken to Rachel in two weeks, for reasons I'm not going into here- Rachel and Loretta have been at war immense. I'm not really getting into that here, either, or taking sides, period, cos as far as I'm concerned they're both at fault- yes, Rachel needs to go to damn school, bottom line, and yes, once she goes wrong on you Loretta can be the bitch from hell about eveything you do, not just what you do wrong- trust me, been there, lived that, glad its over.

At one point Rachel was seriously talking about moving out of Loretta's- well, actually Paul's and I'm honestly not beng snide here, just accurate- house, which is crazy, in just a couple months she'll be here for the summer- I guess, unless she's double talking me, which may well be the case, it's in her fucking blood- and then off to college (assuming she makes it out of high school). So, I don't know.

(YOU SELDOM DO)

You got that right.

What's Bill been up to? Well, lately, cos lately's all I'm doing, Dick and Sharon came in to visit Jean and Tad two weekends ago, and I went down to visit them all, bunch of other folks showed up as well, the men folk all went out to shoot, and Dick proved himself to be either the bravest or craziest motherfucker on the planet by handing me both a loaded gun and an open beer at the same time. Had a great time, wonderful to see everyone, wish I'd been able to drink more and stay longer.

Had a Movie Club at Doug and Rosa's last ngiht for the third time since last issue, not even going to try and give extended reviews of all the movies we've watched at them, for capsule shots, Dragon Wars, everyone hated it but me and Ron, weak story, decent dragons, Planet Terror, not bad, but still with the requisite QT trying too hard scenes that always get on my nerves, some movie Danny (who now hates me, all the press that development is getting in here) got from his buddy in Mexico, the title of which is Mexican for The Plumed Illegal Immigrant, swear, it's tedious, The Host, far from the greatest monster movie ever made as its cover falsely proclaims, not bad at first, the monster, this giant killer carp salamander thing with one of those sideways vagina dentata mouths, goes on a nice opening rampage, but then it slows right down, I hate that, DVDs of the Firefly series, surprsingly (to me) not bad at all, same with Serenity, also Walk Hard, not bad in parts, but I just don't seem to find "comedies" as funny as every else does-

(FOR A GUY WHO LAUGHS ALL THE TIME YOU SEEM PRETTY DAMN HARD TO PLEASE)

That's cos what makes other people laugh doesn't seem funny to me, and vice versa.

(YOU DO LAUGH AT THE DAMNDEST SHIT)

So I'm told.

I also want to say at this point that my very dear friend MC Doug is extremely sick right now, for real, and if any of you so inclined would include him in your prayers I would greatly appreciate it.

Also on the movie scene, 16 To Life is still out there on the festival circuit (ran into 16TL producer Chi in Huntington a couple weeks ago), Johnny Boy has it's premiere showing this coming Friday at the Appalachian Film Festival at the Keith Albee at 1 pm, I'll be there for fucking sure, and finally get to see my ruggedly handsome and manly mug on the BIG SCREEN-

(ABOUT TIME)

- that's what I say, these guys (wisely) aren't going the festival route, so I should get copies within the next month or so. Look the fuck out.

Beside MC movies, what else has Bill been watching (lately)?

On TV, I have to say my sweet Sandra Lee keeps making my life better one cocktail at a time. I'll concede her food recipes are of the "Go to McDonald's, get a couple Big Macs, bring 'em home and throw 'em on a plate" variety, but her cocktails- the other day she hollowed out these cucumbers- whoo- then put the cucumber mush, lime juice, sugar, sake and watermelon rum (dear Lord) in a blender and whirled it into this frothy mess, which she then poured into the hollowed out cucumber and drank. Pure genuis, and yet another example of making a drink out of absolutely anything. Although I have to admit I'm kinda partial to when she just pours some vodka into whatever liquid she has handy and calls it a cocktail, like the other day when she dumped some in some hot chocolate and called it- I don't know, I think vodka and hot chocolate.

(I'M STILL WAITING FOR THE VODKA AND BATHWATER, AND VODKA AND MENSTRUAL BLOOD COCKTAILS)

I bet you don't have to wait long.

While we're talking about hot women, Chris's new favorite is Monica Belluci. I can see why. What do you think?

(I'D POUND THAT STUFF TILL IT GLOWED IN THE DARK)

How very romantic.

Also been watching a lot of you.tube. I still hate computers with all my madly beatng heart, that will NEVER change, but this shit is so addictive. Besides all the old wrestling shit, I've been watching a bunch of old music stuff as well, like Be Bop Deluxe, some lip synched Brit pop TV stuff (still good) but also some live concert stuff, check out "Sister Seagull" and "Fair Exchange", also Rory Gallagher- "Walk On Hot Coals" from '73, sublime- and all time BBNL fave, The Sensational Alex Harvey Band.

Found the marvelous old In Concert clip of "The Hot City Symphony", mislabelled as "Vambo"

(VAMBO RULES IN HOT CITY)

-he certainly fucking does, there's a lot of Vambo in DFZ-

(VAMBO NO DAMN HUMAN RACE)

-exactly, also a version of "Vambo Marble Eye" (also mislabelled as "Vambo") shot in some bar that has this fantastic Clockwork Orange vibe to it, Zal in black vest and white face (and fine form), black bowler hat and little round granny sunglasses and bleached blond goatee, Alex in white porcelain kabuki mask and this bright, psychedlicly swirly waistcoat- great fucking visual, and of course the song just rocks like fuck.

What's Bill been reading? Well, a lot, Christ, it's been months. Got into some more of the SSSLB books, Attack of the B Queens (I don't underline book titles like I used to, and am supposed to, cos- let it suffice to say it's the computer's fault), disappointingly slight, and not many great photos, either. I will say that Linnea Quigley reminds me strongly of someone I once knew, but the person I knew was much hotter.

Just the opposite was Sinema, a History of Sex in Film, disappointingly academic and boring (bla bla, woof woof, guys, and some gals, like to see tits and ass on screen, what a fucking revalation, and it shouldn't take you 300 pages to reach or say it) but it's got some killer photos, including one of Linda Carter in a showgirl outfit that's easily worth the three bucks I paid for the book. There's also this amazing photo of this blonde in black bra and g string, garter belt and stockings and heels, bending over into a refrigerator- yeah, I know- but she looks fantastic, I'm going, "Who's the hell is that, she's hotter than fu- VANNA WHITE!" And indeed it is. The photo's probably 20 years old, at least, cos she looks pretty young, but still, I'll always see old letter flipping Vanna in a different light from now on. There's also an older photo of Terri Hatcher in a corset than won't make you look away.

Then there's Naked Vinyl-

(I'M SENSING A THEME DEVELOPING)

-about all the bare ass record sleeves, mostly from the 40's through the 70's, an era I'm always nostalgic for anyway, and when you throw in bare asses . . . some pretty exciting covers amongst the 256 pages, and some curious ones as well, I realize these were the days before rampant cosmetic surgery, but I still have to wonder how some of these cover models got the job- probably the same way the strippers on Rt. 60 get theirs, becasue they'll take it- including one poor dear whose breasts look disconcertingly like footballs with nipples on the end (sounds a lot better than it looks). Droopy little half inflated footballs to be more precise.

And some of the song titles on these old records . . . this shit is cornball to the extreme, but it still make me laugh out loud- "I Never Saw Such Knockers", "She Sits On His Lap And Bawls", "Things Are Soft For Grandma Now That Grandpa's Eight Four", "She Kissed Him In The Hallway, And He Shot Across The Street", "She Sits Among The Cabbages And Peas" (took me a while to get that one), "He Broke It Off Inside Of Her" (?!) plus a lotta songs about nuts, "Tony's Got Hot Nuts", "I've Got A Handful Of Nuts" (probably Tony) and "Oooo, I've Got Hot Nuts For You" (probably Tony again).

And the lyrics- Handy Andy goes like this- "Although he looks as small as Gandhi/In Spain they call his Mucho Grande/Oh how his muscles can expandy"- now, you tell me how an adult human being can sing that without falling on the floor and I'll give you fifty bucks. Not to mention "Get Along Home Cindy"- "She don't smell like roses/But she knows a hundred poses" and later "She took me to her chamber/She throwed my clothes away". She throwed my clothes away- that's fucking PRICELESS.

What else- Urban Spacemen And Wayfaring Stangers, about obscure music groups- although I don't see the Electric Prunes, and certainly not the powerful and primal Pretty Things (and dammit, twice now in the past few months I've ordered a two CD comp of all their later psychdelic tracks, which are damn hard to find, and twice it came back unfilled, as in no longer available- but they're still listing it in their catalog- I hate that shit, dammit) as being the least bit obscure. It's by the same guy (Ritchie Unterberger) who did the Unknown Legends book reviewed here sometime back in 2002. USaWF is as good a book as UL was, but the accompanying CD is not. It's not bad, but the UL CD was excellent.

Also read tons- well eight- graphic novels, also six mystery and five SF novels, I will note that SF novel Hydrogen Steel, by Australian author K. F. Benford, about malign, highly advanced AI's called fireminds, and The Queen Of Bedlam, a historical mystery by Robert McCammon (his stuff is always interesting and well written), were both quite good.

And while I haven't read them yet, I was in Borders the other day and on a (good) whim bought four of those old 500 plus page comps of old comics- specifically Green Lantern (late 50's, early 60's), Challengers of the Unknown (same time frame) Hawkman (ditto) and Metal Men (from '63 on). I love this stuff dearly for its own sake, but also cos of memories it brings back to me. As a small, small kid, like age three and four- and seriously, I COULD read at those ages- my Dad and I started this tradition of, after we finished grocery shopping at Super Giant (this was a couple years before the lobster episodes), my Dad and I would go next door to the Drug Fair and he'd buy me two comics (for a quarter) and a lot of those comics are in these four comps.

I miss my Dad.

Of course, he was far from perfect. We used to always- at my insistence- run a foot race from the Super Giant to the Drug Fair, and every single time I'd win. Never once did it occur to me that my Dad was throwing the race and letting me win. No, crazy little arrogant fuck that I was, I honestly believed I was outrunning his ass, and I can remember clear as crystal thinkng to myself. "Good gravy (even I wasn't swearing at three), if I can already outrun a grown man at the age of three, by the time I'm ten I'll be the fastest man (or kid) on earth." I mean, I really BELIEVED that, in fact, at that age my favorite superhero far away was The Flash (Barry Allen), cos in all truth, I thought I was going to grow up to BE him.

(SO, YOU REALLY WERE NUTS AS A KID)

Apparently so.

In the obituary column, we all miss and mourn such well known recent deaders as Charlton Heston, and Arthur C. Clarke, or at least we should, but in the lesser known passings column, I saw where Gary Gygax, who created Dungeons and Dragons, died. I never played the game myself, not once, but Loretta got me the very first D & D Monster Manual for Christmas 1980 just cos she thought I'd like it- that's the Loretta I'll miss till the day I die- so I got a nostaligic soft spot for old Gary (not to mention 1980), RIP.

Also sorry to say old school wrestler and all around nice guy Johnny Weaver- I know Dave remembers him- passed away a few weeks ago from what they said was natural causes, which I assume means he didn't spontaneously combust like I expect to any day now. When we first moved to WV one of the few bright spots in the misery that was Bil's life, other than Star Trek reuns- new to me, I couldn't watch ST when it was current cos crazy electoshock Doc said not to let me watch stuff "like that" cos it would "make me worse"- seriously, that quack motherfucker was the crazy one, not me, or at least the craziest- was the old Mid-Atlantic wrestling with Johnny Weaver and George Becker- who passed maybe 5 or 6 years ago from Alzheimer's- as the top face team, going against such great heel tandems as the Minnesota Wrecking Crew (Ole, Gene and Lars Anderson- I'll give a dollar to the first person who can tell me which one of those guys was really an Anderson, and no cheating and looking it up on the Internet or somthing), Aldo Bogni and Bronco Lubitch-

(IF MY NAME WAS ALDO BOGNI. I'D BE A HEEL, TOO)

-you are a heel, and your name is . . . me, also Skull Murphy and Brute Bernard, two genuinely scary individuals, and the Brute was legit nuts besides, there's a ton of stories about his bizarre behavior, ending with him blowing his own head off with a revolver someone told him was loaded with dum dum bullets, and he thought dum dum meant blanks or fake or something, obviously there was a dum dum holding the pistol as well, and lastly, the wonderful masked Infernos, managed by the loathsome JC Dykes. Great, great old school wrestling, and they got little Billy through many a long afternoon back in those dismal days. Thanks, guys.

Also gone is luchadore Bestia Salvaje, which means, like, Beast of Salvage or something in Mexican, dead of heart problems at 46. I always liked how he, Emilio Charles (pronounced CHAR-LAYS) Jr. and El Scorpio Jr. three of the ugliest unmasked luchadores you'd ever want to see, formed the original El Guapos. Funny. RIP, Bestia.

As noted earlier, DFZ is still working his (and my) evil ass off, it's a rare, rare weekend anymore when he's not in the ring both Friday and Saturday night, he's actually on the roster of six Feds (he holds belts in four of them), no wait, seven, and it'll be eight after this Saturday when PCW starts up (and five belts), although most of his work is with the AWA-MWA. I went ahead and signed another contract with them, even though I said I'd never make that commitment again- a girl has a right to change her mind, doesn't she? Well then, so do I. Benefits to me for signing being some good (relatively speaking) money up front, as well as a guaranteed fee for every DFZ appearence- no more five bucks and a handshake deals for DFZ, or even twenty bucks and a handshake- as well as a possible try out match for the Zero-1 Japanese promotion next Friday at the big AWA show in Fayetteville, (the opening leg of the weekend from hell, Friday night in Fayetteville, Saturday afternoon in Fairmont, Saturday night in Logan, Ohio and then Sunday morning TV somewhere in Indiana- have I mentioned yet I'm TIRED?), not sure if the Jappos are going to show up, or not.

The down side is that I have to give them forty matches by the end of the year, and can't work a show for any other Fed on a night they have me scheduled. Forty matches sounds like a lot, but I've already given them ten- DFZ has defended his Unified Heavyweight Title against a real assortment of freaks and geeks lately, the Pink Panther (twice), "The Ace" Ryan Spade, Clank The Clown-

(THE ONLY THING I HATE MORE THAN A CLOWN IS A WRESTLING CLOWN)

-I believe you, DFZ destroyed that poor loser in under thirty seconds, legit, also "The Snakeman" Deven Michaels, "Genuine" Jock Samson (twice), "Adorable" Deacon Knight (twice), and Wildcat, since I signed the contract in February. And no, I don't know what's up with all those names inside quotation marks.

Are we in love Or just friends?

Well, if the lovely Third Degree doesn't know, how am I to? Although my guess is just friends. What the fuck am I talking about now? I went into great detail in the last, lost issue, I don't have it in me to go back there tonight, but read on . . .

DFZ also worked some shows for XMCW since last issue, including pulverizing legit cousin of Ricky Morton of the R&R Express, Tommy Gibson, as well as reconciling with Nikki, who showed up for a benefit show a while back for some poor kid in Rand got her head half burned off in a house fire, and who (Nikki, we're talking here, and who looked very fetching indeed in this sparkly gold number) had indeed dumped my ass for non-attention before she left town, I just hadn't gotten the memo.

(COS YOU WERE BEING UNATTENTIVE)

Exactly. However, a little sincere locker room sweet talk by your hero- for an ill natured prick, I can be a charming son of a bitch at times- got her back on my side, and how. Even Danny (we were still buds, then) commented, "Dude, that was the best comeback I've ever seen in my life. We show up and you're getting the cold shoulder and the stink eye, we leave and you're getting her new phone number and "Come see me soon, honey". True. But I've probably fucked things up since then by falling back into my non attentive ways. I'm just not a talking on the phone type of guy, and she doesn't have a computer, so I can't communicate with her by e-mail (she hasn't moved back, she's still somewhere down south with her brother, she just came back for that one show).

I know I keep saying I'm going to do less wrestling, not more, but right now I'd be crazy to slow down. I'm absolutely at the top of my game abilty wise, I'm working some GOOD fucking matches, and DFZ is over fucking huge everywhere he works- fully three quarters of all my matches last year were title matches, and it's higher than that this year- drawing huge heat, hated in the nation indeed, and I still get offers all the time from Feds wanting me to work for them, got one just this weekend from this Fed in Tennessee.

Another consideration, being the carnal bastard that I am, Bill's not gettng laid all that much, but DFZ continues to fuck like a Death Falcon. Case in point-

Had a hard match last weekend at WVU-Parkersburg (excellent facilty, I hope we go back), DFZ was working Wildcat outside the ring, trying to pop the crowd I tell him to give me a couple body chair shots (or shits, which I typed first)- which he does- you guessed it, right in the damn kidneys (Wildcat's no lightweight, and I was pissing blood till Wednesday, for real) he's been in the biz for 15 years, I thought surely to fuck he knew to lay the chair across my shoulders, or I'd never have called the damn spot- he got the legit eye gouge cut off from hell in return, his right eye was already swollen shut before we even got to the back. Later in the match I also masochistically called a suplex on DFZ on the wooden entrance ramp- again, trying to pop the crowd, and again, it worked, and really, what do I care, DFZ's going over in the end anyway.

So- my back is killing me legit after the match, I decide to take advantage of the actual locker room showers (a luxury at this level) and am in there enjoying a super long, super hot shower, trying to loosen my back up, when who should decide to join me, but a very young, very cute DFZ fan- and my enjoyment of this shower goes to a whole other level. She's someone I was already, uhm, familiar with, I guess you could call her a ring rat, a crude, and cruel, term, but you know what? I really don't fucking care. Cos that's the kind of experience money just can't buy . . . but bruised and bleeding kidneys can.

(WORKS FOR ME)

Me too, champ.

Wow. Electronica comes from behind and wins. He just cut off the last ten or so paragraphs of this NL. Fuck him. This goes out now as is, more later.

Bill