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7/26/04 Bum Weiner
Hey Welcome to the latest BBNL, girlie men need not apply. Another three weeks between issues this time, a couple of you have expressed your concerns that I might be losing interest in this thing that so brightens your otherwise drab, workaday lives, or that I might even be running out of things to say (perish THAT fucking thought). Nah, I've just been kind of busy doing that summertime thing with the girls, in addition to cooking up a storm- just basic stuff, but lots of it, some pasta dishes, and for the thousandth time, fuck your low carbs, ribs, chicken, fajitas, Oriental beef and noodles, but shit, it feels good to cook for the girls again cos they appreciate and enjoy it- and washing tons of laundry, and running to the store every other day to buy more toilet paper. Girls in the house. Some of you have also expressed the concern, what with the long delay in getting the last letter up on the site, with no pitchers (sic) or additions of any kind once it was up, that Joe may also be losing interest in posting this thing. Not that I know of, at least he hasn't said anything to me about it, but then again, who're we talking about here. I think he's just been quite busy as well, I think he might actually be having to work at work, and I know he's always got tons of shit to do around his house, being the handy type that he is. The Retro Queen, for as much as I like her, has really been a money, and especially time, Black Hole for our boy, if you took into account just all the man hours Joe's had to put into her over the past couple years, she really should be a 50 foot pleasure yacht crewed by swimsuit models in their swimsuits. Or better yet, their birthday suits. So, anyway, I'm still cranking them out, I figure Joe will continue to post them with photos with funny captions. Besides, how you like the price? What's been up with Bill lately? Going back a few weeks to right after the last newsletter, where we'd just gotten all the junk out of my parents house, I spent two solid days- and I exaggerate not by one second- mopping the downstairs for them. First a super strong ammonia mop to cut through the cat piss and shit and the slick layer of Pine Sol overtop it left by Tina and Vince's wholly ineffectual efforts- it was like mopping on Saturn, or better yet, Uranus, the ammonia competing with the shit smell for which one was going to asphyxiate me first- then a bunch of rinse mops to get all that crap up off the floor, then the next day some Lysol mops and clean rinses to clear out the gas giant smell. I'm telling you, I mopped my fucking ass off, OFF, I fucking say, and if they ever, EVER let Tina bring a cat into that house again I'm going to kill all fucking three of them. And the cat. All that damn work on their behalf only to get screamed at the other day by my Dad in one of his snits, he wasn't even part of the goddamn conversation, I was talking to my Mom. I wasn't in the fucking mood, the girls and I had just walked in the door, we turned around and left, and haven't been back until today, when he fell all over himself trying to be nice. Sometimes he's funny as shit- he walked through the room a week or so ago, Martha Stewart was on, he hollers "Jailbird!" and just keeps walking, I went by the bathroom today while he was sat down in there doing his business, he's singing "Happy birthday to me, happy birthday . . . to me", and no, I have no idea- but a lot of times he's not funny at all, these fucking temper tantrums have got to stop, or he can find someone else to mop his goddamn floors next time. And I mean it. In more fun news, been doing a lot of socializing, had lunch with Jason a couple-three Fridays ago, he's doing well for you who know him, says he loves being a cop, more power to him I guess, somebody's gotta do it. Still wants me to be in his wedding, the damn fool- not for getting married, but for getting me involved- that's okay though, I've always cut a damn fine figure in a tux, maybe I can get a bridesmaid off in a corner during the reception for a little- recepting. Also had lunch with Joe and Laura and Anita- last week? -maybe week before, Anita was telling us about this photo of hers, "Bum Weiner"- the title is self explanatory, although from her description it should more accurately be titled "Raisin in the Sun"- that she took on vacation one time, that's gonna be on exhibit up at the Cultural Center the rest of the summer. Or it would be in a better world, anyway. Anita, why don't you bring it to work and let Joe scan it into the newsletter? Hey, I didn't take the damn thing, she did.
They were going to make me a really good deal as well, less than they've been offered for it, but it was still more than I wanted to spend, and I don't know if I want the fucking hassle of trying to run a show every two weeks. Went up to Lori's and went swimming week before last- again, I'm thinking this may have been the week before that- I still say I think they have the nicest backyard pool I've ever been in. What's Bill drinking? Beer. Sunday's a traditional heavy drink night for me, plus I'm sore as fuck and can use the pain medication. Got some excellent beer at Kroger's in Huntington recently, I haven't seen it around here, $10 for a 4 pack, Samuel Smith's Taddy Porter (good), Nut Brown Ale (better, very Newcastle-y) and Old Brewery Pale Ale (best, not quite their outstanding IPA, but a great beer nonetheless). Obviously these aren't what you're gonna grab when you're just wanting to get your buzz on, unless you've either got a lot more money or a lot less tolerance than I have, but if you're just looking to drink a good beer or two, try one of these, especially the Pale Ale. What's Bill been reading? Finished the S. King book mentioned last issue, ho-hum, he does the conceit of making himself a character in his own book, I did the same ages ago in that post-apocalyptic trilogy I wrote but never sold, in the last one, "Brains Enflamed", where experiments to create telepaths to try and communicate with the aliens it's been discovered are behind the apocalypse result instead in these murderous pyrokinetics who have to be hunted down and terminated by the hero, Billy (ahem), at one point in his mission he runs into me as a crazy old guy living in a cave with a still and about twenty women, great book, can't understand why it never sold- also the Ramones book, great music and image but they were some fucked up boys. And I just read in yesterday's paper that Johnny Ramone is in bad damn shape with prostate cancer. What the fuck? The girls and I went to the library to stock up for our summer reading week before last, I got a bunch of new mysteries, started one by Sarah Andrews, "Earth Colors", which so far- I'm about halfway through- is pretty good, but way clumsily written, with characters just breaking into page long dissertations to advance the plot, people DO NOT talk like that, this kind of shit drives me INSANE (gotta blame it on something) as well as SF and ghost story anthologies, also "Red Scared" which I already finished, about the Commie menace and how it was portrayed over here. I mostly got it for the reproductions of period movie posters and book covers, one looked really good, "The Defeat and Occupation of Russia, 1952-1960", based on our plan to stomp them shittin' Commies into their own turf way back when (shades of "Atom War '50").
Heard an infomercial on behind my back the other night, thought they were touting "slimming sex", turned out it was "Slim In Six". Fuck that (ha). The girls and I went to see Spiderman 2, I'd actually recommend it, easily one of the best cast comics movies I've ever seen, Toby McGuire makes an engaging Peter Parker, Kirsten Dunst is appealing as Mary Jane, I like Doctor Octopus a lot better than Willem (I'd like to kill 'im) Dafoe's punk take on the Green Goblin, with that shitty, SHITTY Green Goblin costume, I still don't like CGI effects, never did, never will, you can say what you want about them but to me they look fucking FAKE, the girls and I watched the first Spiderman the night before, in preparation for SM 2, it was better than I remembered it, though still not great. I saw it in the theater upon original release on one of the first and only "dates" I went on after the divorce, had a good time, she was a nice girl, great kisser- she actually looked a lot like Kirsten, only with dark hair- but that was also around about the time I was realizing dating wasn't really something I was interested in anymore. In SHITTY comic movie news, I hear Jack Black- I honestly cannot believe it- JACK BLACK, that pudgy numbnuts PUKE?!?- is being cast as GREEN LANTERN in an upcoming movie, must be by the same asswipe responsible for that Hallie Berry Catwoman abortion, and in the new Fantastic Four movie Michael Chiklis is Ben Grimm (my fucking ASS), Jessica Alba is Sue Storm (cute girl, but too dark, too young) and a couple bland outs are Johnny Storm (Flame On!) and Reed Richards. I fucking HATE Hollywood, the goddamn, Goddamn GODDAMN retards. . I really do hate Hollywood. Also bought a couple cheap DVDs sometime since last issue, the original Gammera- I remember the first time Ronnie and I watched it, at his grandmother's house sometime in the early 60's, and Gammera did that shooting flames out of his leg holes trick and went spinning off across the sky, we went berserk and almost turned the TV over, "What is THIS shit?", we took our monster movies seriously. I still do. Also "Warning From Space" (Japanese title "Unknown Satellite Over Tokyo"), with these unbelievable giant walking starfish aliens with a great big eye in the middle of the star. Love it. Sarah got a book at the mall called "The Magical Personality", sort of a magic zodiac type thing, you take this personality test and it tells you what you are, according to it I'm a wyvern, very strong fire with a supporting water, my shadow type is a pegasus, low air, very low earth. Every damn thing that I take that assigns you an element, whether it's based on birth or the way you are, I always end up a fire type. Go figure. My good points according to this magic book? Energetic, dominant, enthusiastic, extraverted, impulsive, sensitive, insightful, sociable, warm, emotional, thoughtful, urgent, passionate, spontaneous. Bad points? Superficial, manipulative, neglectful, lazy, confused, irrational, moody, irritable. Yeah, whatever. I can live with it. None of it's true anyway (except the good stuff). In wrestling news, no Ultracore show in Huntington 7/10, rained out after a shit load of work getting the ring down there, should've just bailed and gone to Joe's party, that's what being responsible gets you, nothing, you're exactly right. However, a couple of the guys down there were (peripherally, though they tried to scam me that they were key) involved in the IWA Mid-South Death Match Tournaments that have run for the past 3 years, big crowds, pretty big legit media coverage (I'm talking newsstand wrestling mags here), this is that Indiana bunch I mentioned a while back that wanted me to come work some shows for them. They've lost their venue and they're thinking of doing their 2005 show in this area, and wanted to know if I'd help them out, working and promoting. I gave them my price, and they said okay, but we'll see where they're at next spring when the show is supposed to be. The Death Falcon continues to go through those boys down in Nitro like
shit through a goose, pinned their big dog, reputation wise, Mister X (The
backbone of XMCW) at the June CAPW show, wrestled their big dog,
physically, Bad Boy Dallas Michaels, Saturday before last (7/17). He's not
all that big, I don't think, or that muscular- Joe, why don't you include
a pic of the Anyway, the result of said DDT was a huge bloody lump on the DF's forehead- this is even with the mask on- and a wicked headache, and a not very fucking happy Death Falcon. Once we got back in the ring I gave him a fucking combat boot to the nuts, legit, then a spinning neck breaker, again legit- I didn't actually break his neck, mores the pity, but I didn't give him the easy spin like I do my friends, I gave him the fucking wrench and torque spin, and brought him down hard on the back of his head- and then pinned him, also legit, in the sense I cradled his ass good, he couldn't have kicked out to save his life. Bad Boy was crying in the back afterward, "You didn't have to kick me in the nuts", the DF's response, "Yeah, I did". The result, on the 31st, which is this coming Saturday, the Death Falcon is entered in a 4 man Hardcore Match with not so Bad Boy, Hardcore Mark Mathews, and Ricky Villain with the winner getting the Xtreme Maximum Championship Wrestling Hardcore Title. I know who my fucking money's on.
This was to be the much touted barbed wire baseball bat and thumbtacks match between the Death Falcon and The Juggulator (NWA-Tristate X-Division- their hardcore designation- champ). He showed up without the barbed wire bat, and perverse as it sounds, I was pissed off. Goddammit, if you say you're gonna bring it, whatever "it" may be, then BRING IT! He looked all sheepish and said, "I just thought of the Death Falcon coming at me with a barbed wire baseball bat and went . . . nah". I hear ya.
I could write more, but it's late and I'm tired. Later Bill
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"A Red is any son of a bitch asking for thirty cents when we're
paying twenty five".
Got invited to dinner by Mister X and Pampered Booty since our last get
together (this would be mine and yours, dear reader), actually had a
decent time up there considering I don't really know them that well, she's
a good cook, and pretty cute, drank some Pilsner Urquell that I brought,
she and I, anyway, turns out part of the reason they had me up is they
wanted to sell me XMCW, which was kind of flattering, they want out,
understandably, promoting is the real sucky end of wrestling- by the way
Joe, I'm gonna forward you 
Been tons of great noir movies on TV this month, I mean fucking tons,
missed every damn one of them for one reason or another, the one I regret
missing most is "The Killing", original screenplay by the great
Jim Thompson, and starring the great Sterling Hayden.
asshole, he's on the WV wrestling site- but he seems to think
he is, and most of that Nitro crowd are genuinely afraid of him. I just
think he's a shitty damn worker, doesn't know a fucking head lock from a
combination lock from his Aunt fucking Fanny, he gave the Death Falcon a
DDT outside the ring onto a metal chair, absolutely the most poorly
executed move I've ever been hit with, I'm talking EVER, this idiot makes
Little Larry- who recently retired from wrestling because his grandfather
died and he was only wrestling for him, all together now, "THANKS,
GRAMPS!" (and couldn't you have kicked off a little sooner?)- and
"Hatchett (sic) Warrior" Mike Roach- look like Bob Backlund.
That brings us to the combined CAPW/MSWA show from last, actually
Saturday, night. Good show, no, REAL good show, strong card, Spyder
Crowley's legit retirement show, I've gone on before about how genuinely
funny he is ("Rule Number One! Don’t hurt Spyder!"), I think
he's really done, he's truly beat to hell, both knees shot, and just too
damn old at 35. Ahem.
He compensated by making a tack bat- and that damned little Rachel
helped him- where you wrap some double sided tape around this fat headed
whiffle bat, and then affix 300- I said 300- LONG ass tacks to it. Well
let me tell you, that motherfucker stings like shit. Sweet Jesus. I took
the first hit across the back and it was all I could do to keep from
breaking kayfabe and hollering "OOOOH, YOU DIRTY SON OF A BITCH!
AAAAAAAH! GOD DAMN, WHAT THE FUCK'S WRONG WITH YOU!" Took a couple
more, my back looks like hamburger, got a really bad case of tack backne,
but I've been good about keeping it peroxided, so it should heal up pretty
quickly.
Juggs took a whack across the head, which left a couple dozen tacks
embedded in his cranium- what a trooper- plus a reverse corner chair whip,
which led to an ace gigging job on his part, some really good color (blood
to you rubes), it was a really good match, Matt's a great guy and good
worker, sounds crazy, but I really enjoyed the match. Took that shittin'
Dead Body Driver finish of his- anything with "Driver" in the
name hurts like fuck, legit, and taking this onto tacks didn't make it any
sweeter- it compresses the living fuck outta your spine, my lower back's
killing me right now. But the DF came back with a genuine ball bat across
the throat Falcon Leg Sweep, and into the Oxygen Destroyer submission for
the finish. Good match, we'll get some stills from it onto the website.
