4/26/05

Thirty Seconds Over Nitro

Sometimes I lives in the country 
Sometimes I lives in town 
Sometimes I takes a notion 
To throw myself off some bleachers onto a great big thing that has all the give of cinder block 
And split my fucking crown 
Good night Irene

Hey

I've been getting a lot of e-mails the past couple days wanting to know how things went for the Death Falcon Saturday night, specifically the high spot off of the bleachers. The spot could've gone better, but no one got killed, so I guess you could say it went okay.

We'll go ahead and start off with a wrestling update, and then move on to other news. The DF dropped his Hardcore belt Saturday night to the Unholy, but he dropped it hard. Danny said it was the worst wrestling beating he's ever seen. I don't know that I'd go that far (of course, I've watched a lot more wrestling than he has), but Unholy was in genuine bad shape by the time it was all over. None of it was intentional on my part, shit just happens. And there are plenty of photos included on the site to verify.

But you know what- for real, I can't even speak for that son of a bitch, look into the eyes of the DF in some these pics, cos he IS crazy, I swear to God. Look at the photos, like that one where the DF is going for a bloody Unholy outside the ring, with Falconette Anita over his shoulder, look at the Death Falcon's eyes. He's fucking possessed.

Start of the match, first damn forearm I throw- I refuse categorically to do that fake punch shit- I hit Unholy square in the mush with it, and put a big cut inside his lower lip. Later, during the kendo stick spot, I clocked the HELL out of him- hey, he was trying to choke slam Falconette Anita, and my blood was up, my brain knows it's fake, but when do I ever think with my BRAIN?- and busted him the fuck open, legit. He didn't realize at that point that he'd already been cut, so as he's down, he gigs himself. When he raises up, he's bleeding like a son of a bitch, so much so that when I grab him and pull him in for the head bite, blood pulses out of his damn forehead and right into my mouth. Like, a lot of it. Fucking gag me. I spat it all out, but still. Although I did have enough wit to look at a kid in the front row, and with Unholy's blood dripping out of my mouth say "Taste's like chicken". Ha. Hope he has nightmares. Forever.

Still later when I-

(WHEN WHO?)

-yeah, fine, I don’t WANT credit for this shit, when the DF had Unholy tied up in the ropes, he gave him two shots to the chest with a tack bat. So now Unholy's chest is a bloody hamburger mess as well. Finally, when we're up on the bleachers right before the splat jump, I gave him a hard back elbow to the face- and broke his fucking nose. Jesus Christ, it was NOT his fucking night.

This was the first time after a match I've actually ever felt sorry for the other guy- Unholy had to be helped to the back, legit, and he was sitting back there with his bloody head down, just shaking, for a long time. Even though some of the spots, like the tack bat, he called himself, still . . I was way too fucking stiff with him on everything, and I'm kind of feeling bad about it. I bought him a twelve pack of beer, I felt so bad.

Allan was saying on Friday when I stopped by that a bunch of the boys wanted to get together and do an intervention with the Death Falcon, everyone's starting to complain that I'm working them too stiff, especially the kicks. Normally I'd say, if you can't take it, get the fuck down to the library, Mr. Peabody, but this time I have to agree, I have been stiff as shit lately, and I don’t really know why, cos I know better. Jeff I don't give a fuck about, cos I was trying to punt his fucking kidney into the cheap seats anyway, but when I start hurting nice kids like Shane Storm, who I like, it's time to take a step back and reconsider.

I think with the DF's turn last night to baby- I'm not happy with it, but I think it went well- he just needs to get out there and wrestle some, do some chain and mat work and crank out his suplexes, show a little legit athleticism, and quit all the chair swinging and kicking people in the face shit.

(NAH.)

Yeah, seriously. Think about it.

(MY FANS WANT TO SEE ME KICKING PEOPLE IN THE FACE. AND BUSTING HEADS WITH FOLDING METAL CHAIRS).

And when have you ever given a shit about what the fans want?

(TOUCHE. LEGIT WRESTLING IT IS).

So. To wind up the wrestling portion of our broadcast, 2/3rds of the Grapes of Wrath, DFZ and Professor Danger, make their debut in Martinsburg May 7th, for the House of Pain Wrestling Federation, a booking set up by the aforementioned Prof. DFZ's gonna fit right in, in fact, he's already been there, done that, a few years back, when he beat to a genuine pulp the execrable (and never heard from again) Punkazz under two in Hagerstown, MD, (I think that was recounted in "Death From Above") but I have some genuine concern that Professor Danger may be biting off a little more than he can chew at this stage in his development. However, some people can only learn things the hard way- I can appreciate that. So to Martinsburg we go, and whatever happens is whatever happens.

Oh, one last thing. I loved it during the Unholy match, when someone in the crowd was screaming for me to quit beating up that old man. The Unholy's 19 years younger than me. Ha.

What else has Bill been up to?

Chris and I went and saw Sin City one afternoon, week before last- this Chris not working thing could turn out to be very cool, we can go to movies and hang out and shit now in the afternoons- if he doesn't fuck it up and get a job. The movie was pretty good, I actually liked the comic bookish feel the green screen stuff gave to it, although I have a feeling that's going to be the new big gimmick, and we- or at least I- are/am going to get very tired of it soon. Some of the noir-ish dialog was just too much, crapping over into unintentional parody, same with some of the over the top violence, but it has some hot women in it, with a generous amount of skin, and Elijah Wood as this killer kung fu cannibal was fucking hilarious, although I'm pretty sure he wasn't supposed to be. Anyway, Chris and I both liked it, I'd recommend it to those of you whose tastes run in it's direction.

Went to a 60th birthday party for my dear friend Jean "The Living Fossil" Vickers a couple Fridays ago up at Martha's house. Once again Martha, Steve, and Carrie fixed the food, so much of it, and so good, it was fucking insane. I didn't drink a drop, not wanting to waste any space I could use for food, that's how good it was. There was a cheese board, and homemade hummus, and spinach/artichoke dip, and shrimp, and some killer homemade pizza's, and some spicy cheese and sausage spread, and smoked salmon, and a beef tenderloin to fucking kill for, and ALL kinds of of other shit as well, I've just scraped the surface, and for dessert Martha made cheesecake (with raspberry sauce) and Steve made tiramisu. Holy fuck, I haven't eaten like that since I was a fucking Roman many incarnations ago (I kept looking for Martha's vomitorium, never did find it). And when it was over they sent me home with about ten pounds of food in a great huge plastic sack.

It was quite lovely to see everyone again, I got Joe and Jason V's e-mail addresses, they very wisely also want to become newsletter subscribers, but I lost them, along with some phone numbers I got earlier that day while putting up XMCW fliers at the Kanawha Mall (GLW, I'm telling you) that were on the same piece of paper, so Jean or Tad, forward this to the guys if you would. And then they can e-mail me back and I'll have their addresses. Oh yeah, and Jean, that thing we were talking about that night? Daddy dodged a bullet. He's wearing a bullet proof vest from now on, each and every time, you better fucking believe.

Speaking of fucking things up and getting a job, as we were a while back, my bud Jim Lange at WVPR (Ecletopia, dammit, listen or die) has clued me in to a part time on air job there I'm applying for. I know. Seriously, I know. But being on radio? That's not work, that's being cool. Can you imagine? "This is Death Falcon fucking Zero, and the FCC can kiss my fucking ASS!" Yeah, I'll do well there, I'm sure.

What's Bill listening to? Well, I haven't gotten anything new for a while, so I ordered a bunch of CDs from Music Master. I hear some of you going, wait a minute, you can't pay your fucking rent, you're living off of donated party leftovers, and you're out buying CDs? Yes, I am. And don't forget the beer.

Going alphabetically, I got a double CD of Argent's first two albums, "Argent/Ring of Hands". This is one of the most supremely nostalgic purchases of all time. When Loretta and I first started dating the summer of '76 her brother David was living back home briefly, and he had his killer record collection there, and Loretta and I fell in love- or at least, I did- sitting on her parent's couch holding hands- just holding hands, if you can believe that- and listening to records, and the three I remember most vividly are "Argent", "Time of the Zombies", and, of all things, Bowies "Ziggy Stardust". But for some reason this first Argent record is the one that's the most evocative of that so very sweet time, to the point where I haven't been able to listen to it in years, cos to do so just damn crushes my heart.

But it's really hard to come by on CD- this is an import- and it was a great price, so I got it, and the first time or two I re-listened to it with a lump in my throat the size of a brick, mourning a deep and true love gone to ruin, and thinking for easily the ten millionth time, "How in the hell did we get from there to HERE?" To this day, I STILL don't fucking know. If I knew that, maybe it wouldn't have happened.

The record itself is excellent late 60's/early 70's Brit pop, Rod Argent's forte, "Ring of Hands" is good, but on it he's already started trying to be the poor man's Keith Emerson, which was the biggest mistake he ever made. Which still doesn't hold a candle to the biggest mistake I ever made. FUCK me.

I won't ever leave 
If you want me to stay 
Nothing you can do 
That could turn me away 
Hanging on every word 
Believing the things I heard 
Being a fool . . .

Sad but true. Next I got "Futurama" by Be-bop Deluxe, with the great "Maid In Heaven", and "Sister Seagull" as well as the less well known "Sound Track", with it's monster electric piano track, (electric piano?) I know, I know, but it sounds like Bill Nelson's playing it with a fucking hammer, and another nostalgic purchase, I got the record as a 23rd birthday present from Loretta's mom. Again, this is another import and hard to come by on CD.

It's weird, those days have been coming up a lot lately, I was over at Joe and Laura's the other day and she was talking about this big fight Loretta and I were having in that trailer we first lived in, she and Joe were there, and Laura took offense at something I'd said to Loretta and told me so, and I apparently responded with "What the hell business is it of yours?" (gosh, imagine that) and Laura got real pissed at me- she was saying that was the first time she can remember that I'd made her REALLY mad- and went home. Joe stayed and continued to drink beer (which got him some grief when he got home, he's like, "Hey, Bill didn't insult ME").

I was saying, everyone but me talks about how bad it was back then, Loretta does in particular, to anyone who'll still listen, about how often and cruelly we'd fight, I must be blocking out or something, because I swear to God I don't remember it being like that, and Gordon, who was sitting there, and who's pretty perceptive, said, "Probably because what's bad to everyone else just isn't bad to you." And I think he's right. I think that's why I didn't have a clue about the damage that was being done, because it wasn't bothering me.

Although to be fair and show the other side of the coin, Laura did add, "You two were also always a very, uhm, affectionate couple," and see, that's what I remember, not all the fighting and shit, cos the fighting didn’t really mean anything to me, it was the making up I was all about. Personally, and in total sincerity, I don't give a fuck WHAT you say to me, if you lay me afterward, because for me the good sex makes all the bad words go away, but I've come to realize at this late date that not everyone feels that way. Jesus. If I only could've known then what I know now. It SUCKS being an asshole. Hurts, too.

Next up. Bevis Frond's "Through The Looking Glass". More one man band mid-80's Brit psychedelia. Good, but not as good as "Triptych", which was the first Bevis Frond CD I ever got, and which is excellent front to back, I've bought three more BF CD's since hoping they'll be as good as it is. They haven't been, but they're still all decent at worst, and any CD that has "Purtle Sline" on it, like "TTLG", is worth a listen.

God bless- another nostalgic purchase. When Joe and I were flirting with death riding up and down Red House hill drunk as lords going up to Ravenswood to rock the fucking house playing with Scotty, one of the cassettes I'd frequently jam in Joe's player was "Afoot" by Let's Active, it was this bouncy, poppy stuff, very Teen Beat, and I liked it a lot, especially "Every Word Means No" and "Make Up With Me". So I got the "Afoot" EP and the "Cypress" LP on one CD for eleven bucks (SSSLB), some great songs on "Cypress" as well, like "Blue Line", which for some reason I hear Sarah singing in my head.

That was another good time I didn't know was actually hell behind my back, I'd drive around all day working for Abraxas, often I'd stop in whatever mall was close to wherever I was going (we're talking Wheeling to Bluefield, here) and pick up a huge stack of cassettes of bands I'd never heard of, or heard of but never actually heard, for like a quarter apiece, and listen to them going up and down the road, wound up buying a bunch of dire shit that way, but found some really great stuff as well, like Let's Active, also killer songs like "Isabella" (not the Hendrix tune) and "The Marble" by Salem 66, "Death Of Innocence" by Legal Weapon, "Keep It On Your Mind" by The Windbreakers (although who NAMED that band?).

Lastly, in this new batch of CDs I got "Underwater Moonlight" by the Soft Boys, like Bevis Frond, a new purchase, not a CD copy of something I already had on record. It's been called the best new wave record ever, which didn’t much impress me when I heard it, cos I just absolutely HATED "New Wave", fuck that shit, but this is a really good album, catchy as fuck, great melodies, witty lyrics, first time I listened to it I was like, "yeah, it's pretty good but I don't know about the fucking best", but it's one of those records that grows on you the more you listen to it. Good stuff, and who gives a fuck if I can't pay my rent.

One of the reasons why I can't pay my rent, the trip to Tanzania, fast approaches, we leave in three weeks, and I for one can't fucking wait. I'm thinking about selling some plasma to help make ends meet, not sure I can with all these germs inside of me to make sure I don't get sick in Africa, I used to sell plasma all the time when I was a student at Marshall (I'm not all about the money, I also donate blood all the fucking time, you should as well) and I remember one of the screening questions was "Are you getting ready to go to Tanzania and sodomize chimpanzees", or something like that (uh, yes and no), for some reason they didn't want your plasma if you'd been, or were going, to Africa.

(YOU COULD JUST NOT TELL 'EM).

And what if someone gets sick from my tainted plasma?

(I'D SAY IT'S THEIR FAULT FOR NEEDING YOUR PLASMA IN THE FIRST PLACE).

You make a convincing argument. We'll see.

Ritchie's got the Death Falcon set up with a couple matches while I'm over there, gave me the name and number of the guy I need to contact once we get to Dar Es Salaam, I told Danny about it and he got alarmed, said it's not pro wrestling, it's some kind of beach fighting thing they do over there. I don't give a fuck if it's NHB, load and go is what I say, tape fists and swing for the goddamn fences cos I will TAKE that motherfucker, I just don't want to get into some damn weird thing where they have all these bizarre regulations I don’t want to fool with. Work or shoot, I'm good, I mean holy fuck, wrestling in Africa, how could I pass that up? But either way, don't confuse me with rules, goddammit.

Sarah has a new boyfriend- or boy friend, I can NEVER keep this shit straight, especially since it changes from hour to hour- who's a jobber for E.W.A., as Doctor X. Sarah went to training with him a few weeks ago, she was critiquing, telling the boys, "You need to tuck more on that, you're not bumping that right, etc.", you know, showing her run your mouth Bitner blood, till the trainer says, "How do you know so much about it?" (cos she did know what she was talking about).

She goes "Ever hear of Death Falcon Zero?", and this guy goes, "Sure, he mostly wrestles in WV and KY, he's friends with Bobby Blaze". Her jaw dropped (as did mine when she told me this), this guy is also friends with Bobby, in fact I think Bobby talked to him about us coming and working for EWA a while back, what a small, small fucking world.

And speaking of my kids and jaws dropping, Rachie sent me some pictures of herself a while back that are jaw dropping in themselves, my GOSH, what a pretty girl my Rachel is. As those pictures, now on the site, can attest to.

What's Bill drinking? Budweiser. Actually, I was drinking Bud, but the 14 I had here when I started this thing are now gone, along with the two shots of bourbon I had left, so I'm now drinking that Awe Mori that my wonderful friend Chris (how the fuck am I ever going to tell him I busted his kendo stick, that he so generously let me borrow, all to fuck, Saturday night? Well fuck, I guess I just did) brought me back from Okinawa. How's it taste? I can't even tell you, I'm just chugging it straight from the bottle to keep the buzz going. Tastes like Unholy. Ha.

Hey, but big guy, I got you covered, I'll go to the kendo stick store and get you another one, okay? And again, sorry, I can’t fucking help it if that damnable Death Falcon doesn’t know his own strength. Fucker. I hate him too, seriously.

I drank a lot (A LOT) Saturday, but none the week before, I'm trying to get back into the working out hard and getting some weight back on thing. Impetuous, who hadn't seen me for months, mentioned the other Friday when we had lunch, how much weight I'd lost since last summer, and she's right, over twenty pounds. I try, I swear, but I just can't seem to keep the weight on, and the big muscles up. At least when I lose weight I seem to do so proportionally, so my shoulders, waist and hips still stay pretty much aligned, it all just gets smaller. Well . . . not everything gets smaller. My ego stays as big as ever.

To make my point, check out my good bud Juggulator's website- http://www.juggulator.com he's got a pic of him and me after our match last summer in Smithers, (DFZ 1, Juggulator 0) that's DFZ at 220, as opposed to DFZ at 202 as we speak. Joe, go ahead and put that pic on the site if you would, cos Juggs'll update his site in a month or two and then people will be going, "What the fuck?" when there's a photo of J.T. Hogg on there, or something.

I'm looking to go HUGE for the filming this summer, and I'm conceding that I'm going to need some help, so any of you who've ever had the desire to jab a needle in my ass, as long as you're female and good looking, get in touch, we'll work something out. And I'll certainly be glad to reciprocate and jab something in your ass.

In most recent news, DFZ and Falconette Anita went to a Prague reunion party up in Sissonville at a friend of one of the Prague lesbians house- there were more lesbians there that you could shake a stick at, that sounds like a joke, "How many lesbians can you shake a stick at?", "Uhm, none?"- Saturday night after the match, and had a very good time (maybe some of us had too good a time, but what the hell). It was great to see all the Prague students again, they truly are a very neat bunch of people (and Anita kept saying, "They're all exactly like you described them in the newsletter!"). Of COURSE they are. Anita was invited to join a softball team, which I thought was great- she may well be the only non-lesbian on the team- I told her if she does maybe the DF will be her softball valet. Fair's fair.

Seems like there's more I want to say tonight, but I'll be damned if I can remember what it is. It'll come to me as soon as I post this fucker, that's how it always is.

May I see no night 
May I see no day 
If I ever leave 
When you want me to stay 
You can believe in me 
I won’t be leaving 
I won't go away . . .

Later

Bill