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6/28/10 Run Home Slow
"Speak not to me of authorization, foolish mortal." The Mighty Thor "I ain't sure it's puddin'.'" Ned Land Hey It's Sunday night boys and girls, at least it is where I am. Time for another newsletter. As usual anymore, Bill don't feel good. My knees are BAD, especially the right one, it hurt like fuck three nights running last week, so bad I couldn't sleep. Had that being full of broken glass on fire pain that just would not go away. Some better now but still more sore than I'm happy with. I've changed my workouts around yet again trying to protect my knees but there's only so much I can do and stil work out. Got some genuine pain meds- presciption, not alcohol, and I know saying I drink cos of the pain in my knees would be specious in the extreme, but sometimes I do (on top of all the other reasons)- but I'm saving the pills for nights when I just absolutely have to get some sleep. They're also wanting to buckle on me at inopportune times (the knees). Before you know it I'm going to be falling down the stairs even when sober. Quite a bit of mail since the last two issues hit the site, many commenting on the attached photos, again, there is no other explanation for DFZ being so much bigger than Bill other than DFZ IS bigger than Bill, which is not affectation but scientifically verifiable fact. Just look at the pictures. Someone noted "Rambo" aka Scrapyard Bill "looks bigger than you normally do" also. Well, he is. Why? Cos just like DFZ, he needs to be. And no (how funny cos I'm more than half sure this person was serious) Old Hood is not a real bourbon so I can't tell you where to get some, it's just the name I came up with for the rotgut DFZ drinks in Sluglords (hood being wrestle speak for mask as well as its more common usage for a juvenile thug, DFZ himself thereby being an old hood, see, as well as wearing, no it's too fucking complicated, I agree). That ad in last issue was the creation of Africa Mike, as was the "America's Most Degenerate Bourbon" tagline. Funny stuff, I agree. And yes, that is a DAMN cool photo of DFZ with his boot on the chest of that destroyed luchadore- Fiero or Fuerza something. (WHATEVER IT IS, ITS MEX FOR DFZ KICKED MY ASS) Indeed it is. Sarah had surgery on her right ear 6/17, having been stone deaf in it since the accident, which destroyed the small bones in her inner ear. In yet another miracle of modern medicine they were replaced with wee tiny plastic ones. Amazing. If I tried to do that I'd cut your fucking head off and probably my own left hand as well. The surgery went well, she won't know for a few weeks yet how successful it was, but any hearing restored will be more than she had. She'll be in for a long weekend 7/10. She wanted to come in for her friend Patrick's wedding but couldn't afford the ticket so some fine person named Dad sent her the money. Be lovely to see her though I'd be a liar if I said I was thrilled with her length of stay. I find her reasoning for the brevity of her visit unconvincing at best but instead of being a pisser about it as is my wont, I'm just going to enjoy visiting with her for as long as she is in. (AND WHO ARE YOU AGAIN?) No word from Rachel, not even on Father's Day. As far as I know it's just Rachel being her feckless self so I'm not going to sweat it, but I have to admit it's starting to get on my nerves just a little. Just a little, I tell you . . . Bill's Mom? About the same. The scrapyard? Ditto. One more thing, I no longer read The Daily Mail even though my nephew Tom is now writiing for it (and doing an excellent job I must say, and I'm a tough critic when it comes to the written word). There was an article in there a few weeks ago where it was written that someone had "whelps" across their back. I know that's how you people around here pronounce it but the word is "welts". "Whelps" are wolf pups. So this article was saying someone had wolf puppies across their back. For fuck's sake. Seriously- FOR FUCK'S SAKE. I sent them a letter- honest- but I doubt they print it since it had fuck in it several times, but that writer is a moron, or "fucking moron" as I told the Daily Mail, and that editor needs to do their job, or "fucking job" which is first, know this shit and second, catch it. It's these admittedly little things that are slowly driving me out of my mind. By god, that shit would've never gotten past Perry White. What's Bill been up to? Well, that's why I hate letting so much time go between issues cos for a guy who sits on his ass a lot, I still seem, to quote bubblestuff (whomever they may be) to "do alot of stuff that you probably make sound more interesting than it was". That's part of my genius dear- or sir if sir you be, but if you're a guy calling yourself bubblestuff we need to have a talk in private. Oh yeah, and "a lot" is two words. Wednesday after last issue went out Danny and I went up to Ohio to train and fsh with Viper, then meet those crazy ass comic illustrators who were coming down from Illinois on Thursday. We got up to Rutland around noon on Wednesday, worked out some with Viper and the Day brothers- they really are lovely souls for a bunch of ill bred redneck thugs, Viper's ring shirt even says "White By Birth, Trash By Choice" which I think is pretty damn funny- in that hot, hot building in that hot, hot ring, then we all get showers and then Bill needed some liquid refreshment to repalce all the sweat he just lost. Viper says its still too early to fish- we're going catfishing for some damn (M is for, buy it TODAY- subliminal ad) monsters in this pond where Heath (Viper) caught a 52- yes, 52- pound flathead last summer, hell the sunfish we're using for bait Dave and I would have been happy to catch back in the day. Fair enough, but it's not too early to drink so Bill borrows Danny's car and drives back out to the head of the hollow (yeah they have 'em in Ohio too, where do you think the white trash live) to this convenience store and- oh dear. They have PBR 30 packs on sale for $14.99. Now, Pabst and I came to an agreement a couple years ago, I wouldn't drink any more of it and it would quit giving me the hangovers from hell. But 30 PBR for $14.99 is just too good to pass up. (SO LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT. IF I SOLD YOU LYE FOR A DOLLAR A BUCKET YOU'D DRINK IT COS IT'D BE TOO GOOD TO PASS UP?) Yes, and shut up. I spend the next couple hours drinking Pabst and watchng DVDs of Viper in about every kind of hardcore match you can imagine- the guy is legit crazy nuts. Heath is trying to get me to go down with him to work for IWA Deep South out of Alabama, I may go once if I can work with him- he's crazy but he'll take care of you- cos I'd like to have a match in Alabama just for the hell of it, but only if I could work him cos I saw their roster on those DVD's and there are some dangerous fuck ups on it. I'd beat the living piss out of one of those assholes before I'd let them drop me on my head, for real. Danny passed on the beer as he doesn't drink during the day and Heath only drank a few as he's trying to get back in shape and a good job he's doing too- I think I mentioned when I saw him last fall he was looking bad, well he's down from 250 to 214 and is benching 400 (though as much as I love the guy I'd have to see that to believe it). My personal best is 330 though I did it five times in a row and could have lifted more but 330 was all the weight we had. It's around 5 o'clock now and the 30 pack is half gone, Mister Boyd is getting concerned- Danny: If you don't slow down you're going to be too drunk to
fish. We head out to the pond around six with these huge rods, fishing rods I mean, Viper has this complicated sinker/sliding bobber rig I leave to him cos he very much knows what he's doing- he's caught uncounted catfish over 20 pounds, over 50 over 30 pounds and 6 over 50 pounds and this I very much do believe cos he's got this huge album full of their photos. We bait up with half pound sunfish and sit back with some PBR- everyone's in at this point- to catch some giant catfish. And we would have too- Viper got a hell of a strike right at sunset, which is when they normally start to hit and I did too, both of which tore our baits right off the hooks when out of fucking nowhere this big ass rain and lightning storm blows up. Seriously, one minute the sky is clear, the next the wind is blowing this drenching rain sideways in our faces and lightning is hitting in the woods not far behind us- fuck. D: Who'd you piss off this time? They just got a brief reprieve is all. We're going back, or at least I am, and Bill IS going to catch a monster catfish and take a picture of it and put it in the newsletter. End of fucking story. Danny had decided he didn't want to spend the night at Vipers- the accommodations were a bit crude I admit though I've stayed there before- but I told him I wasn't going half on a room when we had a place to stay for free so he broke down and said he'd pay for us a room in Pt. Pleasant which is where we were to meet the comic guys on Thursday cos instead of meeting us halfway they wanted to come to PP to SEE THE MOTHMAN MUSEUM. We tried to tell them it wasn't worth driving fifteen minutes out of your way to see- it's this little room with some articles from the paper cut out- (DOES MOTHMAN HAVE WHELPS ON HIS BACK TOO?) -don't get me fucking started again- blown up and taped to the wall and a couple t-shirts and mugs for sale, but the big silver Mothman statue IS pretty damn cool- but they were unconvinced. Whatever, see ya in PP boys. We stayed at the haunted Lowe hotel, neat old place, Danny worked them for a suite, cheap, all the same to me brother cos its all gonna cost me the same, which is nil and nada. It was still early, around 10 or so, so we asked desk guy, who was old as time, where we could find some action. I know, what we we thnking, PP ain't exactly Sodom or Gomorrah (or Guaymas or Dodge City), desk guy had no clue but he did warn us to stay away from this tavern up the street- you could tell it was one by the red "Tavern" sign in the window- as it was a rough place. Okay, pops. Barkeep: So what do you think of our town, stranger? So we went down to the tavern which was rough if you mean boring as fuck, only a couple old mopes in there- besides Danny I mean- and the best they had to drink was Yuengling, which I'm not at all above but I still had a couple PBR in the fridge back in our suite. Danny and I drank a couple beers each, I chatted with the college age bartender for a bit- he was a musician but he was all into theory and shit, I was going "I just turn the fuckers all the way up"- while Danny took a call from the crazy comic guys that went on forever. Then back to the room to finish the PBR and to bed, unaccompanied by ghosts or Mexican stripper whores, alas. Met with the CAC guys next morning at ten and a sorrier looking couple you've never seen. Aging hippies that look like life's been kicking their sorry asses for the past 40 years (they're both in their late 50's). And couple they may be, they live together in an ancient trailer without phone or Internet (they called Danny from a friend's where you leave messages for them if you want to contact them) somewhere out in the Illinois sticks- I'm guessing Hooterville- but it may be just out of convenience cos they both shit poor, make Bill look like Johnny fucking Rockefeller. Nice guys though and they can DRAW. I'm going to have Gary- they go just by first names, Gary and Larry- do the cover for Things but in the short time since then we may have already outgrown them for the comic stuff, Danny has brokered us a deal with a much bigger company than Devil's Due, the one these guys work for. He does have his uses. Went to the WV Writer's Conference couple weekends ago, didn't have nearly as good a time as last year, partly cos I was concussed- more later- so I spent all weekend with that headachey, detached, semi-nauseous "not another fucking concussion" feeling, and partly cos this year there was no trio of cutie pie interns looped on the moonshine I'd fed them at the campfire hanging all over Bill in his DFZ persona while taking turns pressing their firm young breasts into his chimpanzee grinning face and grinding their drunken buttocks against his crotch. Did sell some more copies of Monster- really wish I'd had Thing done but I was the one drag assing- and got a really good commission to ghost write a bunch of stuff if I can just pull it off. Gonna be hard- it's gothic romance- I KNOW- and I'm already struggling, but it would be some good, and more important steady, money if I can do it. Didn't get an advance for this first one, I'll get paid when I turn it in- sounds like a homework assignment I know, that's how it feels- but if I keep going I'll get an advance for any others I write. (ANYONE WHO ADVANCES YOU MONEY ON ANYTHING IS OUT OF THEIR MIND) I would tend to agree. Went over to Jean and Tad's for dinner week before last- roast pork, good stuff- and a neck and shoulder rub from Jean who gives the best ones. Took a bottle of white wine, another of Nikki's- boy do I miss her-selections, it was excellent, no surprise there, and if my bad brain would let me remember what it was I'd tell you. You think that's bad, yesterday, telling Chris about his weapon and memoribilia collection, I couldn't remember Dick's name. Went to Mike and Sig's last Saturday after the matches at ASC, would have been for dinner but I couldn't eat cos my lip was split terribly- more later- but she sent some fried chicken home with me and I ate it later, Sig's a great cook. Had a good time hanging out on their deck with them and Mister Bulky who made it this time, hitting the beer and smoking cigars. Also went up to the Barge a week or so ago, still a nice place but they really need to upgrade their beer list. Didn't matter to me cos I only had a couple iced teas- I know, everyone was going "Who are you and what have you done with Bill"- but I was in kind of a mood, didn't feel like feeding the flames with beer, also after a solid ten years of trying to put on weight I'm looking to drop a few pounds. Chris, Ron, Charlie and I went to Dayton yesterday to the Air Force Museum, if you have the slightest interest in aircraft or the history of this country I recommend you plan a trip there yourself, posthaste. The B-37 is worth the price of admission- yes, I know its free to get in smart asses- itself. There's so much incredible stuff there it's impossible to do it justice in a single trip. I will say I was very encouraged to see all the families with young children there- those great planes and the brave souls who flew them are part of the reason we as Americans, not to mention so may others, are able to live the way we do and I heard a number of Dad's- and Mom's- passing that message along to their kids. Good for them, seriously. Good for them. After the museum, and after some searching, we had dinner at The Fox and Hound, brisket (good) for all of us except Charlie who had a chicken qeusadilla, this place had a killer beer list including STONE IPA on tap. Man, it was so good, I'd kill to have a local place that served it. Driver Ron responsibly had one 16 oz (for a dime less than) Chris's 23 oz mug. Bill had two 23 oz mugs. Charlie stuck with water. We'd also stopped at a package store so on the way back we cracked a couple of Bill's Kentucky bourbon ale, beer aged in use bourbon kegs. Not bad, but not nearly as good as the bourbon beer Ron and I had at Beerfest last year in Bramwell. One was fine, two would be too much. What else? What does a fish say when it runs into a wall? Dam. Haven't done obits in a long time, it's been a while on a couple of these but I'm sad to relate that Tetsuo Narikawa who portrayed Spectreman died New Year's Day of lung cancer at the age of sixty-five. And a couple of adult film stars, Marilyn Chambers who never did a lot for me, and Anna Malle, who did, have both passed on, Marilyn from a cerebral hemorhage a month or so ago and Anna from a car wreck way back in 2006. RIP. If Bill's wishes mean anything they're all now enjoying a three way in some bizarro Nipponese Horrywood- sorry- afterlife. (IF TETS IS WEARING THAT POINTY-TOPPED SPECTREMAN HELMET-) Indeed, sir. Also, more sad news, Pete Quaife, original and best bassist for the BB Fave Kinks died just a couple days ago, I didn't hear what from, at the age of 66. A big NL RIP Pete, hope you and John Entwistle are sitting in some ghostly Swinging London pub swapping tales about how your basses could beat up Paul McCartney's bass. Cos they could, not that pretty boy Paul was any slouch. Which reminds me (go back a paragraph) I got asked some time back for some more adult film star recommendations ala Julia and Lisa Ann, and Priya Rai and I never responded cos I forgot or couldn't be bothered at the time or something, but I can understand your asking for a little help culling the wheat from the chaff so to speak cos there's got to be a MILLION of these women doing their deal on the Internet even as we speak and I would be your man to ask (though I imagine a lot of you would be surprised at how little time I actually spend looking at this stuff- I'm still the person to ask because I have impeccable taste in this area). I already gave the BB big thumbs up (ahem) to a couple brunettes and a blond, so this issue we'll pick a redhead- or two cos I simply can't choose between Brittany O'Connell and Kylie Ireland (though I wish I had to). Both of them are well worth taking a look at. There you go, bud. What's Bill drinking? Picked up a six pack of Stone IPA at that package store in Dayton yesterday, knew it wouldn't last a day here. This is good, good beer. The plan now is to just drink these six and then quit, but we'll see- such plans don't always go as planned. Got yard duty tomorrow, don't want to go in hungover, but it's supposed to rain, shouldn't be busy, even as we define busy. And if we are, fuck it, I'll do something to run them off. Telling them to go piss up a rope usually works. I know, sounds like someone is talking himself into more beer . . . "No me gusta tu barrio, ni me gusta tu, ni me gusta tu puta madre." DFZ on Mexican radio. Now would be a good time to cue up "Mexican Radio"- Wall Of Voodoo- and for those of you not fluent in Espanol like Sarah B, what the ever charming and eloquent Death Falcon was saying to the good folk of Guaymas was "I don't like your neghborhood and I don't like you and I don't like your whoring mother." (YOU SHOULD HAVE HEARD WHAT I WANTED TO SAY) What's Bill been listening to? Skipped an issue, so- Pretty Things (4) Procul Harum (1) Pure Prairie League (1)- yeah, I know but their single "Amie" was on the jukebox at the pizza place- JJ's- I used drink at a lot my first year at Marshall when I was wanting a more sedate buzz, no fist fighting or having to worry about picking or being picked up like at The Hole or (it was the 70's) The Horney Toad, for two bucks you got a pitcher of beer with a quarter left over for three plays on the jukebox. I spent many a solitary Sunday night- my choice- in there doing that useless drunken reflective thing I do, throwing back pitchers and wondering what the fuck I was going to do with my life and no I never did figure it out, although now its more what have I done with my life, anyway I'd play "Amie" a lot, it's a good song and when I hear it now it brings those bittersweet nights of my youth back in a big way so I bought the CD for like .99 a few years ago for that one song, now I'd just listen to it on you.tube for free but whatever-as always, I digress- Quicksilver Messenger Service (1) Rage Against The Machine (1) Ramones (10) Rare Earth (1) Raspberries (1) Real Kids (1) Red Crayola (1) Redd Kross (1) Lou Reed (2) including Metal Machine Music, 64 minutes of feedback, I've never found anyone else who can listen to it for more than like 30 seconds, I fucking love it, sometimes I'll play it all the way through then play it again, I find it relaxing, swear, REM (2) Replacements (2) Paul Revere and the Raiders (1) Rezillos (1) Rocket From The Crypt (1) Rockpile (1) Roxy Music (6) Billy Joe Royal (1) Todd Rundgren (6) Sabres (1) (shoulda been a million) Greg Sage (1) Saints (1) Santana (3) Scientists (1) Screaming Trees (1) Screaming Tribesman (1) Seeds (2) Sex Pistols (1) Shadows (1) Del Shannon (1) Nancy Sinatra (1)- I know I've said it before, but while she may well have the brainpower of a clam, that pink bikini car wash dance Jessica Simpson does to "Boots" is hotter than FUCK-Siouxie and the Banshees (2) '68 Comeback (1) Slickee Boys (2) Patti Smith/Group (4) Smithereens (2) Smiths (1) Sneetches (1). What's Bill been reading? Lots, as usual. It comes out to about one book a day. I don't read a book every day but some days I read two, on really slow days at the yard I've been known to read three. I usually read three books at a time-not at the SAME time, get real- but I haven't been real good lately at keeping track of them. Been reading Dan Simmons- I'll tend to get like a dozen of the same author's books at a time from the library. I liked his SF- the Hyperion stuff- that I read when it was current in the '90's, also read The Terror in '06 when it was also current, he's a good writer though with a pronounced tendency toward wordiness so I thought I'd check out his horror and hardboiled work. The horror is good, very Stephen King like before SK became shit, the hardboiled stuff as well, and here he keeps his verbosity more in hand, you should check out his Joe Kurtz series Chris, reminds me of Daniel Crais whom I know you like. I have twenty books on hold at the library to pick up on Tuesday plus fifteen more coming in from that new cheap book place I found- SSSLB- I'll try to start keeping better track, like I used to. What's Bill been watching? Don't really like watching stuff on my computer for many reasons but I do like that Crackle site I've mentioned in here before, watched a documentary on it the other day, Riding Giants about big wave surfers, about drove me crazy with envy. Those fuckers had it so sweet in late '50's Hawaii, they LIVED it the lucky bastards, long board surfing all day, sleeping on the beach at night, free dive spear fishing and foraging pineapple and coconut for their meals, what a great life that must have been. Beats the total fuck out of working for a living. I surfed maybe a half dozen different times in my life, never at any seriously good surfing beach unfortunately, but I still always fucking LOVED it. And I was damn good at it from the very first time I tried, just one of those things I could DO, you know. A lot like skateboarding, which I invented, you know. Before my knees went south I think I could have been a good big wave surfer cos I'm not afraid of the water and I'm not afraid of drowning- although I'm not the best swimmer in the world, I tend to sink llike a goddamn stone- and the thought of dropping straight down one of those huge curls of water and then shooting across it at forty miles an hour I find just exciting as hell. I can only imagine what a fucking transcendent experience that must be. But I am afraid of sharks. More than afraid, and the thought of being attacked by one of those motherfuckers while on my surfboard turns my lion's heart to jelly, and I could never get that idea totally out of my head even on the piss ant beaches I was surfing. No way could I paddle out for half an hour through deep water at a real surf spot and then wait that long or longer for the right wave without that being my every thought. So I never pursued a surf bum life when I was younger and it might have been an actual option. Fucking sharks. (FUCKING CHICKENSHIT BILL) No, cos they are sure as shit something to be afraid of. I just wish I could have somehow gotten past my conviction that there was one waiting for my ass as soon as I hit the water. In DFZ news, he's worked once for Viper since last issue, another easy match for good pay, twice for Mike, first match went fine, second match was DeathStars 2.0 vs. the Iron City Icons from Pittsburgh the Thursday night before the Writer's Conference. The Icons came in with a little bit of attitude, they're big boys- the smaller one is bigger than DFZ- and they've worked Japan and dark matches for WWE which is genuinely impressive, but you're not going to come into my backyard- or Shane Storm's- and push us around. We got everything worked out before hand and had a really good match- DeathStars over on DFZ's loaded mask head butt. In the back afterward the Icons were all about it, hell yeah we'd work you guys again anytime- but for the double down I called a tornado DDT on DFZ. Guy hit it just right, I tucked and didn't feel a thing though apparently it looked brutal, when I came to the back Allen Lynch who is truly a sweet guy was all upset, "Are you all right?!", yeah I'm fine. But the next morning I'm feeling the unmistakeable signs of a concussion and the only thing I can figure it came from is that DDT. Lori thinks I have post-concussion syndrome, where I've already had so many that all it takes is a relative tap on the head to give me another one. (LOOK, IF I'M GOING TO BE THE CAUSE OF YOU BECOMING A DROOLING IDIOT I SAY FUCK IT, I WANT TO KEEP WRESTLING) I know you do. Wrestled for XMCW Saturday before last- and congrats to Sensational Seth Martin, alias that sneaky cocksucker Johnny Boy, on winning the Indy Wrestlers belt that night- should have been a night off against Gorgeous JC but instead he fucked up a simple kick and kneed me dead square in the face, bloodied my nose and split the shit out of my upper lip, I was pulling shreds of lip tissue out of my mustache for five minutes after the match. He was sweating- "Jesus, don't kill me"- and I won't cos I like him. But he's got a receipt coming and he knows it. No Mexico tonight. I'm actually getting into drawing this trip out, cos it was a hell of a good time and we all know how Bill likes to reminisce. Got a busy week ahead, couple things I'm really looking forward to, time to put another one in the archives. Now you're off with someone else and I'm alone Later Bill
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"Make your own laws or be slave to another man's." William Blake
