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7/23/09 Adventures In The Sunshine State Late at night "It is even more foolish to speculate about the unchangeable past than the unforseeable future." Arthur C. Clarke "Wrestlers go crazy. That's what they do." Bob Calhoun Hey Bill's back from sunny Florida, and so we've titled this issue after the lead novelette in T Is For Thing (due out around the first of the year), which was originally going to be A Is for Alien, dropped that title cos some motherfucker beat me to it, and what was going to be T Is For Thing is now N Is For Nightmare (due out in about a year). Did you follow all that? Good. Sales of Monster are GREAT so far, I couldn't be happier, and cheers to all you NL folks who sent requests (and money!) for autographed copies, they're on their way, mailed them all out yesterday. With one of the book orders I also got one of those ass kissing letters I'm so very fond of, once again dwelling on the brainy/beast dichotomy that is our hero, this one calling me both "a macho athlete and sensuous aesthete". Cool. Be even cooler if it was some hot girl calling me that instead of some guy. Although I'm not sure how much of an aesthete I am, Bill's main passions being strong drink and cigars and loose women, pulp fiction and pro wrestling and comic books, noir movies and the Holy M Trinity . . . no wait, what am I thinking . . . of COURSE I'm an aesthete. (DON'T FORGET MACHO ATHLETE) That would be you. You fucking nutbag. And thanks for this big ass scar on my head, by the way. As expected, got a lot of "what the fuck is wrong with you?" comments regarding the color photo in last issue, just be glad Joe used the mildest one of the bunch, the one where Danny got the lighting right and I'm all red is legit creepy, one person who saw it commented "You look like the Devil." (WHAT'S THIS 'LOOK LIKE' SHIT?) That's true . . . I never have seen you and the Devil in the same place at the same time. (AND I'VE NEVER SEEN YOU AND BRUCE WAYNE IN THE SAME PLACE AT THE SAME TIME) And you won't. Makes one wonder, doesn't it? Anyway, as I said last issue, no worries, I'm fine. Besides my flesh being denser than that of you humans, I also have a lot more blood in my body- (A LOT MORE SPUNK, TOO) - a lot more spunk. So I can bleed, or spurt, buckets to no ill effect. To me, anyway. Also got a pretty perceptive letter saying maybe I'm morose because I still think about Loretta all the time, said I mentoned her 6 times just last issue (I didn't go back and check, I'll take your word for it). Hadn't considered that- I know I'm missing the girls badly this summer- but maybe so. If so, then it is what it is, nothing I can do about it, cos if you think I have any control over what goes on in this head you're as fucked up as I am. And yes, that Lysol douche ad at the end of last issue was both insane and hilarious. You couldn't make something like that up if you tried. Saw in the paper yesterday that yet another of the Class of '74 has bitten the dust, Jimbo Thumm. He was a 53 year old man and they ran his high school yearbook photo in his obit, which I guess I can understand, saw old Jimbo- started to say a few years ago, fuck, it had to be at least twelve- when he came over to Bobby Frontz's while the Tang Spoons were playing- he was one of Bobby's doper buddies- he looked pretty rough then. Never was close to old Jim, but still, RIP. We'll go ahead and recount the Florida trip and then do the what has Bill been whatevering. Started out Friday before last at Ayash with a match- and I use the term very loosely, it was more of a 3 minute total clusterfuck, hated it, DFZ was not a happy psychopath afterward and neither was Jock, fucking GOW (and I include Talent in this) are either going to learn to wrestle or the DeathStars are going to kill them, and that's a shoot. Good thing is I got to see Greg Kesling, old TS drummer and one of my favorite people of all time, he was there to see DFZ (he's a huge fan of the book, go figure). Sorry he had to see such a horrible mess, told him me and Joe and David would all have to come out to the farm soon and jam, he went "Oh Lordy" (seriously) but was all about it. Lucas "Death Falcon Zero Is Here For Your Women" was with him, a delight to see him as well, Lucas is getting married at the farm in September and boys, we are there. WE ARE THERE. No, we're not invited. But still, WE ARE THERE. Spending the night at Danny's so we could leave early the next am but I wasn't ready to go there yet so I went up to Rosa's for a MC, got there late so I only drank four beers I can't remember the names of (put the bottle caps in my pocket but they didn't help since they just had symbols on them, like a dogfish, not words) and smoked a cigar, got up to Danny's about 2 am, he was already in bed, I was still wired so I got in his fridge and drank the 12 pack of Busch he had in there- not good, but they served their purpose, went to sleep about 4:30 to get up at seven. Saturday- up at seven as noted, took a shower and brushed my teeth, asleep in the car before we left Charleston. Woke up when he stopped in Princeton for McDonalds. No fucking thank you, I'll pass. Slept off and on till we got into North Carolina. Danny started asking me if I felt like driving some, after the third or fourth time I told him no he quit asking. Stopped at a Dairy Queen in Georgia, ordered a couple chili cheese dogs- yeah, I know it was risky but this was one of those half-assed DQs they put in a BP staton and their menu was practically non-existent- the girl fixing them asks - "You want cheese on these?" "Uh, yeah. Also chili. And a hot dog and a bun." She gives me a dirty look, but what the fuck, what a stupid question. Then when Danny gets out of the bathroom he orders a chili cheese dog and she asks him the same thing. What the fuck, do people down there order chili cheese dogs and then get mad cos there's cheese on them? Rained like fuck for the last hour or so of the trip, saw these idiots spin out and crash into the guard rail taking an exit ramp too fast, then jump out of the car and start kicking it, while screaming at one another, I was hoping to see some gunplay and bloody moron death, but if it happend it was after we got around them, got to Danny's brother Steve's house in Orlando around 8 pm. Really nice house wth a pool in back, and Steve seems like a good guy. Had beer and food waiting on us, I opted for just beer- hell, I'd had two chili cheese dogs- with cheese- in Georgia. He had Bud and Yuengling, I drank nine Yuengling and went to bed. Sunday- got up and had an early swim, very nice, couple cups of green tea and a banana and we were off to Tampa to see the Rays. Flex, who now lives in Tampa and is just recovering from some serious self-inflicted health problems, was supposed to meet us there but no showed. I'm not much for indoor baseball but it was killer hot that day, no way would I have wanted to watch that game outside. Got good seats along the first base line for $27, enjoyed the game- A's beat Rays 7-3, but I don't like how the Rays have dropped the Devil from their name and are going for a new sun ray type image, instead of a giant killer manta ray. And the day I pay $8 for a Bud Light will never dawn. Back to the house for more swimming and beer, very relaxing. Monday- off to Cocoa Beach to look at some beach property. Looked at a total of six, liked one a lot, old (1956, a year when things were built to last, trust me) duplex, remodelled inside, great price, two blocks from the beach, four from a bar, six from a strip club. Perfect. Also got down and kissed the ground where my beautiful Barbara Eden used to walk, (got sandy lips, I don't care) got my picture taken hugging the I Dream Of Jeannie Blvd. sign, have to get Danny to send me a copy. Done by noon, went to the pier for lunch, one probem I did have with Florida is that all the bars have mostly fucking LCD beers, it's hard to find anything decent, had a really good grilled fish sandwich, then hit the beer, Heineken the best I could get, bottles. Couldn't get into our room till four so we went back to the bar close to my new beach house- if I can figure out how to get a bank to loan me some money- and drank till then, sticking with Heineken. Danny won't drink during the day so it was just Steve and I putting them away. Have I mentioned Steve is a nice guy? Cos he really is. Got in our room, right on the beach, bathing suits on and into the ocean, felt great. GREAT. Swam and sunned till about seven- and I'll only mention her once this issue but yeah, I sure missed being on a beach without Loretta, God BLESS, she really could fill out a swim suit- dinner on the pier, stuffed flounder, a little too done which means it was dry, flounder overcooks in a heartbeat, wanted to watch the shuttle go up, we were only about 12 miles from the site, but the launch was cancelled. Went back to the bar close to- I hope- my new beach house, had a killer hot waitress, athletic build- I pegged her as a softball player right off, which it turned out she had been, Danny thought she was too muscular, fuck that shit, she was toned, I found her hot as fuck as did Steve, enjoyed some nice flirty banter with her before we went back to our room about 1 am. Slept like a baby. Tuesday- got up and went back to the beach for a little more sun and swim before we had to vacate the room, then drove- in my case, slept- back to Steve's for an afternoon and evening of swimming/sitting around the pool and pounding beers (started to say I drank like a batfish on this trip, that would hardly be news), nice grilled chicken dinner about six, good day, again, very relaxing. Wednesday- off to Gatorland. Hot as HELL. Got a cool Dr. No-ish (tropical Bond) photo of DFZ and Prof Danger and about a hundred alligators I'll get to Joe for the site. Danny also took one of DFZ wrestling this model of one of the killer back in the day gator icons- Bonecrusher I think- that he's apparently trying to pass off as legit, and I admit, in the photo you can't tell. I don't care if he fools the marks, but you guys aren't marks and I'll always be straight with you in here, cos when I do all the hard to believe shit that I do for real, I'd like for you to believe it. So no, DFZ didn't wrestle a real alligator at Gatorland. (NOT THAT I WOULDN'T HAVE) I know. If there was ever anyone on this planet meant to wrestle an alligator it's you- (A BIG FUCKING ALLIGATOR. BIGGER THAN GODZILLA, I DON'T GIVE A FUCK. I SWEAR I DON'T, I'LL KICK HIS REPTILIAN ASS) - big as fuck, hell yeah, and my money's on you legit. Your day will come, I promise you. This computer just fucked me again, dropped six paragraphs. Someday, you cunt. SOMEDAY. Thursday- time to go home, stopping in Rock Hill cos we're picking my Mom and Aline up. Uneventful trip to SC other than some bad weather. Once there, Danny and I are drinking some beer out on Aline's very sweet dock when Teresa shows up, hugging and kissing all over our boy Bill. She was being nothing more than her sweet, affectionate Southern belle self, meant nothing beyond ""It's good to see you again, Billy, I've known and liked you all my life" but Danny was going "holy shit, dude." I was crying cos Denise was out of town (dammit), but Danny's outside perspective was enlightening. Teresa is truly a very sweet and sexy woman, she's just not drop dead gorgeous like Denise. Friday- up and back home. Until this day Danny had always been one of my Mom's staunchest defenders ("She can't possibly be as bad as you say") cos she had always been nice to him in the thirty seconds or so at a time he'd been around her previously. By the time we got to Charleston he was going, "Damn, I had no idea,". No, you really don't, not until you live with it. So- what has Bill been reading? Twisted Tales, really weak collection by Brandon Massey, couple disappointing novels by Richard Matheson and Ramsey Campbell, both great at short stories, Matheson was good in his day with novels (The Incredible Shrinking Man, I Am Legend- what a great title), Campbell not so much. Skylife, okay SF collection, The Road by Cormac MaCarthy, good. Also The Death Of Captain America GN, not so good Heard my name on Channel 9 What's Bill been listening to? Still doing the alphabet thing, Beatlles (13), Be-Bop Deluxe (3), Beguiled (1)- Mike Ball, lead guitar was killed by a drunk driver mid 90's which ended the band, sad- Belly (1), Chuck Berry (2). What's Bill drinking? Yuengling and Labatt's, twelve pack of the former, three big cans of the latter, although I think I may be going off the Labatts cans, they're starting to taste really tinny. Even though it's early to you- not yet 10 pm- I've been drinking hard since 11 am, and it's getting late to me, Think I'm going to shut it down. Good night, mes amis. As the years slip through my hands Later Bill
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