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7/21/08 Chugging Beer Against A Chinaman From too much love of living "I created you, El Mongol, and I can destroy you!" Dandy Jack Crawford Hey Okay, so what was supposed to be two weeks turned into a month. By the same token, what was supposed to be a summer of relaxation and recovery turned into one of dissipation and disolution (and disillusion, but I'm used to that, I'd think you'd be as well). Those of you who are surprised by any of this, raise your hands. That's what I thought . . . (SO I'M GUESSING YOU DIDN'T GET ABOARD THE GOOD BOY TRAIN AFTER LAST ISSUE?) Good Lord, no. More like I derailed that fucker and drove it over a cliff. Still keeping STATS, and all the sober days Bill's had since school's been out (this year, and forever) wouldn't make a good week. Smoking (cigars) like a fiend as well. I don't know, I've been real edgy- okay, edgier- this summer for some reason- (MAYBE IT'S ALL THEM FUCKING HANGOVERS) -nah, that's just another day at the beach for Bill, this is something else. Not sure what it is, but I'm definitely not in love with it. Got that fucked up brain thing going again- the other day I couldn't remember which side of the envelope to put the stamp on, no shit, had to ask my Mom of all people, covered by saying, "just testing you", which offended the fuck out of her, better that, than she know the truth, that her eldest child and only son's brain has turned to Koogle- again- plus something else we'll get into later. Maybe. Not to worry, however, as I remain a purely indestructable freak of fucking nature, and I'll maintain that position till that far off and distant day when I spontaneously combust like a miniature sun (stand back), in a blaze of pyrotechnics and raw alcohol. Been so long between issues Rachel's already done her four weeks here and has gone back to MD, she'll be back briefly the first weekend in August for the big cookout, before coming back later in the month to attend Concord, Sarah's still here, will be till some time the middle of next month. As always, it's wonderful to have them around, besides the joy I get from their company, cooking for them, and washing their clothes, and all that domestic shit, is very grounding. And God knows I need all the grounding I can get. So, what's Bill been up to since last we spoke? Went to see "Johnny Boy" (don't get me started again about this goddamn underlining thing) at the Capitol theater, I liked it even better the second time around, as did everyone who showed up on my account (and cheers to those of you who did), Chris said he thought JB had an Elmore Leonard feel to it, which I agree with, and which is high praise indeed, again to quote Chris in my defense, when I was puffing on a big stogie on his deck later, and maybe talking both JB and myself up a bit (imagine), "Let him, he was in a good movie, and he was great". Well, there you go. From Chris's lips to . . . Immediately post movie we (Bill, Sarah, Chris, Debbie, Joe, Tad, Jean) went over to Chili's for some beers and snacks, I got some Sam Adams (Chili's draft selection is not the best) that was flat and sour, just like the Newcastle I got the last time I was there, I think the problem is the place, not the beer. And I'm pretty tolerant in this area, as in all others, but the service sucked as well. Rachel and I went down to Athens to get her registered for her classes a couple Mondays ago, seems like a nice school, if a bit small, although I think that's a good thing for Rachel at this point, she got a really good schedule for registering so late, so here's hoping . . . It fucked with my already well fucked head being back on a college campus, since my own college experience seems mere weeks ago, I had a wonderful time at both Marshall and Fairmont, but sometimes I wish I'd had a little more forethought and sense back then- (I WISH YOU HAD A LITTLE MORE FORETHOUGHT AND SENSE RIGHT NOW) Yeah, well, you start wishing and I'll start shitting . . . Stopped out at my ex-mother-in-law's with the girls last Sunday, visited with her and David for about five hours, very nice to see him again, if it was kind of bittersweet, I still miss those Sunday dinners out there a lot. (NOT TO MENTION THE PRE-DINNER SHOWERS) Duh. Sarah, Doug and I met Chris and Wes- it was good to see Wes again, he's a very likeable guy- and I like pretty much nobody- he needs to hang out with us more- at the Mex place in Kanawha City for lunch some time since last NL, place was a bit too crowded for me, but the food was fine (we all got fajitas but Doug). S,D and I then thought we'd go over and walk around the Kanawha Mall after lunch to kill some time before Bill got drunk, fuck that, the place is non existant now with construction cutting it in half, don't waste your time. Also got out and got some sun like I wanted to this summer, Rachel and I took my Mom up to Lori's a week or so ago, spent the afternoon sunning and swimming, got a little too much sun if you will, burned some, but not too bad, unless you have to wrestle the next day, which I did. Still a really nice day, though. What's Bill been watching? Not much TV, I can tell you that. TV listings for Monday, July 7- Hip Hop Harry- The kids are stuck inside while it rains, so Hip Hop Harry decides to teach them about rainbows. They come up with a song to remember the rainbow's colors, and the order they appear in, and then they share the song with Hip Hop Harry. Ni Hao Kai Lan (what the fuck does THAT mean?!)- the series follows five year old pre-schooler Kai-Lin, who teaches kids about Chinese and Amrican culture, the Mandarin lsanguage, and dealing with emotions. Okay, this is some fucking bullshit. The earliest children's programming I can remember watching was the wondrous, but troublesome, Cap'n Tugg, who showed things like the Three Stooges, and Popeye cartoons. No wonder the "younger generation" are all such a bunch of whiney backstabbing bitches, if hip hop and Chinamen are what they're growing up on. They need to be watching Moe poking Curley's eyes out while simultaneously snatching Larry (semi) bald headed, or Popeye cramming down fist fulls of spinach so that his biceps turn into anvils, or pictures of tanks and battleships appear on them (this really happens, by the way, kids) and then tags that punk ass bully Bluto (nix on the Brutus, he's not canon to me) right in the mush. You want to learn how to deal with emotions, that old school shit is the place to fucking learn, if someone tries to fuck with your broomhandle thin girlfriend, you don't shoot him and you don't sue him and you don't take your dick in your hand and go home and cry in your soy milk, you take some kind of stimulant to increase your strength and/or courage, and then you go bust him in his fucking grill and knock him right up through the ceiling, maybe over the damn horizon if you've gotten yourself jacked up enough, as for mental health, if you know some big fat ass crazy guy, if you get him all worked up he'll fall to the ground and spin around in a circle going "Woo, woo woo", this also really works as well, kids, in grade school James Hill used to do this and I don't think he'd ever seen an episode of the Three Stooges in his life. Of course, he did have epilepsy. I don't know, maybe I'm being a bit harsh on the youngsters, if this fey bitch crapola is all they have to watch, what are they gonna do? (IF ALL WE HAD TO EAT WAS LARD, THEN WE'D ALL BE FAT). So true. But you know, we wouldn't HAVE to eat lard, we could become vampires or something, and these kids don't have to watch this goddamn drivel, they could . . . become vampires or something. Become vampires or something, kids . . . .dammit. What's Bill been reading? Well, in the order I read them (I can remember THIS crazy ass shit, but I can't remember how to mail a letter), Create your Own Graphic Novel, I thought there was some trick to this digital art stuff but there's not, you still have to be able to draw, disappointing, Ravenous, a sorry ass werewolf novel by Ray Garton, the fact that this hack gets his stunningly bad writing published makes me choke on my own bile, avoid this fucker, book and author, like you would light beer, Clapton's autobiography (okay, but not as good as the biography I read a few years ago), Alice Cooper's auto (boring as fuck, all he wants to talk about are golf and Jesus), a bio of Andy Warhol (superficial, fitting considering the subject), a long (700+ pages) collection of Orson Scott Card short stories, two were really good, most were barely okay, about a half dozen flat out sucked, The Somnabulist, a Victorian supernatural mystery thriller pastiche (say that three times real fast), very good, first novel by Brit Jonathan Barnes, watch for him, he's good, an awkwardly titled mostly military SF short story collection by David Drake, Other Times Than Peace (I guess they used "War" too many times in his other collections), Drake is very good but they repackage his stuff way too much, I'd already read most of these, I Killed, a collection of road stories by "America's top comics", not nearly as funny as I'd hoped, Men to Boys, a theme mystery/thriller anthology, very good, and a book about the making of the first Spider-man movie, which had me gobstopped most of the way though it, at the incredible amounts of money they spend to make these fucking movies. It's insane, truly. Also wore out the graphic novels, again in order of consumption, Batman Gothic (pretentious), World War III (confusing) Helmet of Fate (big fan of the old Doctor Fate, great, great look, fuck this revisionist shit. In the ass.) Green Lantern Corps "Dark Side Of Green", (not bad, about a black ops section of the GLC that kills the bad guys, hey, okay by me, it's what I'd do), X-Men First Class, (actually pretty good, but I'm as tired of retellings as I am of revisionism), JLA Lighting Saga (sort of confusing but it had my beloved Legion of Superheros in it, and a great scene where Batman beats the fuck out of Karate Kid cos Superman rated KK a better fighter than Batman- BM also puts KK away with a kick to the balls, and if that doesn't seal Bill as MC Batman I don't know what does) some Nightwing Vs. Terminator- the DC version- deal (not bad but unmemorable, or maybe it's all the beer I been drinking), Superman Redemption (horrible, Superman and religion, both handled poorly, give me a fucking break, padre) Ultimate X-Men #17, (not bad) same for Ultimate Spider-man #19, (better, as said before, overall I like the more realistic take the Ultimate Universe tries for, in this GN Ms. Marvel kills Green Goblin with a shot to the head without a second thought, Electro is not some guy in a goofy costume, he's actually been turned into electricity, and is bug fuck nuts as a result, which is what I think being turned into electricity would most likely do to you), Batman, The Killing Joke (from back in '88, justifiably acclaimed, but the real star isn't writer Alan Moore, good as he is, it's artist Brian Bolland, one of my all time favorites from the very first Judge Dredd of his I saw back in '81- and this is from a writing biased guy), a Hawkman I can't remember the name of (DC revisionism at its absolute worst, used to be dirt simple, Earth-2 Hawkman, Carter Hall, reincarnation of an Egyptian prince, Earth-1 Hawkman, Katar Hol, space cop from the {later deemed facistic, but still badass} planet Thanagar, both very distinct, both cool as fuck, why they fucked with it I have no idea, but now they've jumbled them both together into some damn mess that just PISSES ME OFF), Scion, (some generic S&S/space opera blend), Common Grounds (about a chain of coffee shops for superbeings, not bad, but less talk, more fighting next time) Supergirl (better than I'd exepcted, but again, REVISIONISM, I hate it). I think that's it for the GN's, if there's more I'll get to them next issue. Oh yeah, and I also read War and Peace, the Bible, and a textbook on quantum physics. Not. Though not watching much TV now that I'm no longer staying with Al, I have watched some borrowed, as in free, DVDs, Resident Evil Extinction, I sort of watched the first two RE films while down at Al's, FX ran them all the time, but I really didn't follow them all that closely, all I knew coming into this one was that some corporation did some bad shit and now there's zombies, REE, surprisingly, wasn't bad, sort of a cross betwen Day of The Dead, The Birds (briefly), and every SF/horror movie where the evil scientist gets a dose of his own medicine, on purpose or otherwise, and turns into the big final monster. Also more Milla, Ultraviolet, just terrible, with horrible writing, and while I've never confused Milla with Kate Hepburn, her acting here is atrocious. (NICE ASS, THOUGH) Very nice ass. I would eat it with a spoon, as they used to say when I was a lad. But the movie sucked. As did Aeon Flux, not as bad as UV, but it still wasn't very good. Also watched The Orphanage, a Spanish film by Guillermo del Toro, artistically head and shoulders above this other stuff, but typically downbeat. The girls, Doug and I also went to the theater last week to see Hellboy II: the Golden Army and were soundly disappointed. Surprisingly (to me, anyway) it was very weak, shallow and uninvolving. Shit. "Speaking of Heaven, it's cocktail time." Sandra Lee What's Bill drinking? Rolling Rock, only on number eleven, but it's early. Okay, I hesitate to put it in this section, cos I don't think it's connected, but here we are, so here we go, I had some kind of weird shut down episode last week at Doug's- not passing out, cos I've done that, though seldom, this is something entirely different, and unrelated as far as I can tell to drug and alcohol consumption. It starts out with all sounds getting very far away, someone can be next to me talking and it sounds like they're down at the end of the street, then I start getting tunnel vision, things start to gray, then blacken, in my peripheral vision, at that point I start thinking, well, fuck, but I can't move, and then the tunnel closes in and I'm out. Unconscious. And then I puke, or at least stuff comes up and out of my mouth, even though I don't actually heave. Yes, I know it's disgusting, why do you think I'm talking about it? It's happened to me before. It was August 2, 1995- seriously- I was working for Abraxas and on my way across Rt. 33 to Elkins to interview a kid at the Childrens Home when I thought something had gone wrong with the car stereo cos all of a sudden I couldn't hear it (I was listening to the MC5, Babes In Arms, and if you can't hear THAT). As I reached to turn it up I noticed everything was getting gray- fuck me, is there a storm coming? I recall briefly thinking- well, yes and no, cos the sun was shining and I was losing my vision. I was able to pull the car off the road before I went under (though I'm sure if I'd have crashed it I'd have survived, yet again) and the next thing I know I'm coming to, car in park but with the engine still running, and my lap full of vomit. Again, it must've just run out of me cos it was all down my shirt and in my lap, none on the dashboard or steering wheel like there'd have been had I hurled. Still, yuck. I chalked it up back then to stress, I was havng a bad time of it in those days, trying to reconcile two absolute truths that couldn't possibly both be true, Loretta would never cheat/Wake UP, mother fucker, Loretta's cheating, and just like one of them old Star Trek robots that Kirk posed the unanswerable quesiton to, I think my brain just locked up and shut down. And I think it's the same thing now. What's currently got me going I haven't a clue, but I'm convinced whatever happened last Tuesday, the cause wasn't overconsumption- please, like Rosa said, "I've known Bill for well over twenty years (23 to be precise, darling) and I've NEVER seen him hurl"- or any type of physical ailment. It's all in my tortured, yet beautiful, mind. "Everything you see really happens." Rocky Johnson DFZ has been busy as usual since last issue, got rained out at the Rand fair, then missed Riverfest later that day to defend in Buckhannon, a wise decision, the place sold out, plus (all 150 seats full, with some standing), pulled fifty bucks over my guarantee- we'll get into the money thing here in a minute- plus got in a little discrete slap and tickle with S II in the locker room (she's doing this cheerleader valet thing with Jock now). Great heel crowd- some fucker, drunk or crazy or both, hollered at the top of his lungs as DFZ was coming to the ring, "Whooooo! Ric flair's retired! Wang Doodle!" WTF, but funny. DFZ was over huge, had a so so match with The Elite Eric Ramsey (who was neither elite, nor really named Eric Ramsey), nice enough guy but way too lazy in the ring to be an effective face, at one point I'm pummeling him and the crowd is cheering- the kiss of death if you're a face-and he whines, "They hate me", "Fuck, I hate ya," I told him, and I did, I asked him in the back if he could throw a drop kick, cos I was going to call this old school spot, he throws two drop kicks and on the third I give him the big swat as a cut off, a great spot you never see anymore- (EXCEPT IN MY MATCHES) -true, Ramsey, or whatever the fuck his name is, says, "Sure", well, I don't know (but I been told), that maybe white men can't jump, and black men can't say "ask", but EER sure as fuck can't throw a drop kick, his first one caught me square in the balls, hurt like hell, I cut him off right away with a smarten up stiff clothesline, took him to the mat, "I thought you said you could throw a drop kick" I growled-maybe a little high pitched. "I can," he says, "just not very high." Jesus. But again, funny. That show was so over, the event director for the Barbour County Fair was there and he booked us- AWA-MWA- for the BCF in Phillippi sometime in late August, he's obviously a Death Falcon fan cos he told Mike, "Make sure the champ comes, I hate that guy"?! Works for me, and it'll be another good payday, bought shows, like fair gigs are the best money around. After thinking I would do it, I decided to turn down Viper's Ohio summer fair stuff- he called me again last night about one- cos they're all just so fucking far away, and that travel time is time I could be drinking. Worked five matches July 4th/5th for AWA-MWA, cleared over $210 still in my pocket when I walked back in the door here (Sarah helped me count it), had a good match with a new kid, Trace Mathews, young and good looking and built, the jealousy factor- fuck, I used to be him a million years/a week ago- said knock him out on principle, but he was such a sweet, respectful kid, there was no way. I liked him a lot, hope he goes far. Had some okay matches with Snakeman, the best you can expect from that lazy bitch, I blacked his eye semi on purpose, but to be fair, he didn't cry about it, also got to work some with former WCW star Buff Bagwell, nice guy sober, not so nice buzzed (or so I heard, after my comped dinner on the 4th I went to my comped motel room, early and sober and alone- just wasn't in the mood, and maybe Buff should have followed my shining example as he blew up not FOUR MINUTES into his main event on the 5th and had to take it home- pathetic). Spent most of the 5th, after check out and before the matches, in the Borders there at the Parkersburg Mall with Shane and Samantha and Larry (nice guy, but slow, he does this Jason, as in the horror movie, gimmick, which he hates and I don't blame him), well over four hours, sounds tedious but it wasn't, they were good, undemanding company, we hung out in the coffee lounge, I napped intermittently on this big soft couch (even though I went to bed early the night before, I didn't sleep well) in between drinking free coffee and smoothies- gotta stay hydrated- and reading, and spanking cutie pie Samantha at chess- though I'd have much preferred just plain spanking her. Also bought a couple books out of my wrestling money (the $210 is what I brought home), a new Lovecraft thing I haven't read yet, and a biography of Frank "Bruiser Brody" Goodish, who, depending on who you are, was either a stone bully and a thug, or the nicest guy and best friend you could ever have. Either way he was a great, effective worker, you really believed him, I remember seeing him just destroy Robert Gibson, later of the R&R Express, in Huntington in '81, I thought he'd killed the guy. I'm sure Joe and David remember him, I'm figure even Loretta remembers him from her GCW watching days. Goodish was murdered twenty years ago the 16th of this month in a locker room shower stall in Puerto Rico. Sad. Worked the aforementioned sunburn match for XMCW in St. Albans- last Friday, Friday before, maybe- it was okay, nothing great, DFZ over Howitzer with the loaded mask head butt, wasn't fun wrestling with a sunburn, but the worst part was when I unthinkingly smacked my own chest in triumph, a DFZ trademark, and lit myself up, for real. As for the Affiliates, its collapse, as I predicted, is imminent, a classic case of all Chiefs, no Indians. Frustrating, but a textbook case of independent wrestling 2008. The Tennessee deal is done (I beat their champ but didn't get his belt, they didn't want to send it to WV, apparently afraid they wouldn't get it back, which is horseshit, I'd have given it back, fuck, I'd have gone back down there and dropped it . . . eventually), as are the shows in Levisay, which started out promising but fell apart through no shows and egos, and the resultant on the fly booking, I heard a fan complain as he left after the final Levisay show, (which I couldn't make sense of, so how was he supposed to?) "the first ones were good, but this was just one big hobglob." The perfect description. A big hobglob. And a good image to end on. Anything you want to add? (EVEN THE WEARIEST RIVER You weary? (NO. YOU?) Yes. Later Bill  |