Assume its just not worth gettng back up 
So I'll blame it on bad luck 
And I'll shake responsibility 
And say a hard life did this to me . . .

"If you stay drunk, you don't have to get drunk." Bill Bitner

"Fuck, no." Kurt Russell, when asked if he was going to be in the re-make of "Escape From New York".

"Gordon Solie will you PLEASE shut up. Sometimes you talk too much, man!" Terry Gordy (RIP)
"Well, sir, I am the announcer." Gordon Solie (also RIP)

Hey

And I'm the announcer here, sir, and I'm not going to shut up either, not that I've been all that talkitive of late. Not sure why, I haven't been doing fuck all, which may well be the problem, that and the fact that I'm the most undisciplined creature Earth, whose main talents are hard drinking and stepping on his own dick . . .

I may as well start out complaining, it's where we're going to end up anyway. I've been in a lot of pain lately- physical more than psychic, for once- my knees are hurting me as much as they ever have, and my shoulder is the worst it's ever been. Over the years I've gotten to where, like Lawrence of Arabia, or at least Peter O'Toole, I don't so much not feel the pain as learn not to mind it, but now I've also got that damned motion impairment thing going again, it's inconvenient as fuck trying to work out, or work a match, or even take a shower or read a book or wipe your damn ass, when your goddamn shoulder is not only killing you, but will only move certain ways, and then only at certain times.

Besides that, I just feel- shitty. Fuzzy headed and tired all the damn time. And no, it's not from this extremely wet summer, alcohol is the only thing that keeps me even moderately sane, I've had a billion hangovers, this is something else. And while I'm thinking about it, thanks to you who expressed concern about my episode as related last issue, but no, it wasn't a stroke and it wasn't a seizure and definite no, I'm not going to the doctor. Don't you know those fuckers'll kill you?

Sarah's gone back to Baltimore, left last Wednesday, heads back to FDU next week, she was in for two and a half months, the longest she's been back since she moved away five (dear Lord) years ago, and her time here still went, as it always does, like the briefest flash. On a happier note, Rachel goes to Concord this coming Friday, it's going to be sweet having her so close.

What's Bill been up to?

Went to a Power ball game nigh on four weeks ago now, my first, really nice ball park just like everyone says, it was raining pretty hard after the fifth inning so we- the MC- went over to O'Kay's, which is slipping badly, their draft beer selection is a fraction of what it was the last time I was in there, the most damning omission being the Harpoon IPA, she- Kay- is pushing the Mountaineer Brewing Company product hard, which I think is a mistake cos it isn't very good at all, their stout is barely adequate and their pale ale sucks, it's sweet, fuck that. Ron's gonna talk to her about fixing her beer list, so we'll see. Also, our waiter was either deaf or mentally impaired, and I'm not joking. Nice enough guy but Jesus Christ, he kept bringing us the wrong stuff, it got old pretty fast.

Sarah's latest boyfriend, Norm came in to visit for a week, brought a bunch of NYC (purchased) beer down to get on the good side of the MC, which wasn't a bad idea, been so long since we drank them I can hardly remember which was which, but we all really liked the Maharajah Imperial India Pale Ale (I haven't forgotten you want the label, Chris, I just keep forgeting to bring it on Tuesday nights), Avery Brewing Comp. Boulder, Co, 10.21% alcohol by volume, great beer, crisp and strong and refreshing, same goes for the Ruination IPA and Arrogant Bastard Ale, both from Stone Brewing Co in San Diego, both over 7% alcohol by volume, great stuff, this is how beer is supposed to taste, but since they have too much alcohol in them for this punkass state, you can neither buy, nor have them shipped here.

He also brought, and we all sampled, a Bavarian organic Weisse beer- I'm not a big fan of the Weisse but this was as good as that gets, not bad at all, also some weird ass shit, a Blanche de Namur, Belgian, with coriander, orangeskin and liquorice, a Hebrew pomegranate ale (by Schmaltz Brewing Co, Sarasota, NY) and a bitter chocolate oatmeal stout, also by our boys in San Diego. Now we all know Bill doesn't like orange or pomegranate or chocolate in his fucking beer, so no one was more surprised than I was that I found all these beers pretty good as well, in a what the fuck kind of way. I wouldn't drink a case of them at a time like I would the IPAs, but as a change of pace beer they weren't bad at all. Live and learn.

Later that same night went up to the Empty Glass to see Spurgie- he REALLY wants you to come see him, Dave- drank a bunch of Harpoons up there- conversely, the Glass beer selection is immensely better than the last time I was in there. A bunch of Sarah's friends were there, including my sister Tina (she and Sarah get along much better than she and I do) and her latest boyfriend Nick, who actually seems like a hell of a guy, Tina'd do good not to dump this one, and goofy Patrick, who the first time he met me called me "Paul"- yeah, this was in 2002- and got "It's a good thing you're retarded" back from Bill. Cos I thought he was, and I'm still not so sure he's not, Master's Degree and all.

It was great to see Spurgie as always, he's genuinely one of the nicest guys in the world, he didn't sound bad, but he's been playing this stuff so long he pretty much plays it in his sleep, and for way too long, one set they played three fucking songs. Also saw, of all people, CRAZY Tom, the demolition guy who played with Spurgie at the same time I did, first time he's been in the Glass in ages, I think he spends most of his time growing pot up in Pinch, serious, he acted like we were best buddies so I let it go, fuck it, it's been fifteen years (also, he bought me a beer),

Speaking of Toms, Dave (and Joe), did you know Tom Fountaine's wife- it shames me I can't recall her name at the moment- died from breast cancer a couple years ago? I had no idea until Spurgie told me. That sucks, she was always nice as hell to me, and I don't think I ever saw her once when I wasn't cross eyed drunk. Now Tom's trying to raise all those boys by himself- what's he got, five? I hated to hear that, truly.

Had the party out at Joe's a couple weekends ago, attendance down again this year from a few years ago, I don't give a fuck, I had a good time, maybe too good, thought this year I'd keep track of my drinks so I could pace myself a little better, well, fuck that idea, ended up downing 15 margaritas-a good half of them were simply a full cup of tequila with a splash of lime juice- the next morning my stomach felt like I'd eaten a cheese grater-a cheese grater that was ON FIRE- plus five beers, and four cigars.

I didn't get obnoxious or anything- nobody there this year to wind me up- unless you consider telling everyone that you love them obnoxious. Which some might.

What else has Bill been up to?

Went into Books a Million a while back and got waited on by a girl with, proportionally, cos she was a slender thing, the biggest tits I've ever seen in my life. Dear God. Tiffany was her name, she was wearing a fucking low cut camisole under a jacket, and my theory has always been, if a well endowed female dresses to accent or even reveal her fucking endowment, then she wants you to look. So I obliged her. You know how when you're standing on the edge of a cliff looking over, even though you're standing still you feel like you're about to tip over the cliff? That's how I felt while looking at dear Tiffany, like at any second I was about to pitch, sheerly through the forces of gravity, face first into her amazing cleavage. What did I buy there? I don't know, a book or something.

What's Bill been reading?

"A Good Hanging" by Ian Rankin, writes police procedural/mysteries set in Edinburgh, a city I'd love to go back to, good stuff, Ian was on a No Reservations with Bourdain a while back, seemed like a very cool sort, if I ever do make it back to Scotland I'm going to look him up, we can get drunk. Also a book about the battle of Iwo Jima with interviews with 28 of the survivors, they were some tough sons of bitches, and little, a lot of them, 5'4 and 5'5'', "The Full Burn" about stunt men, seemed like a fun bunch as well, except this one ex-cop who seemed a total prick, he can fall on his head for all I care, "Blood Of Paradise", pretty good mystery set in El Salvador that falters a bit at the end, "The Rise and Fall of ECW" about, well, the rise and fall of ECW, the latest Nevada Barr, it was good, Martha, and some other stuff.

As for graphic novels, Ultimate Fantastic Four #9 where the Silver Surfer is the herald of- The Psycho Man?! What, Paste Pot Pete was busy? Plus three Marvel Civil War titles, not a bad concept concerning government control over superheroes, who would go along and who, like Captain America, would say "Kiss my ass", but I can't keep track of what the fuck's going on, or went on, I guess it's over now, reading shit piecemeal like this, Blue Beetle, "Shellshocked", better than I thought it'd be, but I liked Ted Kord, "Trinity", not bad but again, I'm so sick of reading the hundredth retelling of the first time Superman and Batman and Wonder Woman all met, write about something new, dammit, and, let's see- 8 more I just don't feel like going into right now. Head's killing me.

What's Bill drinking? Green tea. Surprise. Have to get up early in the morning, not that that 's ever stopped me before, but I got hammered hard last night, Friday night as well, I figure tonight I'll give it a rest.

Doug, Sarah and I finally made it to see "The Dark Knight" week before last. I could pick some nits, but overall liked it very much. And it seems like there's starting to be an anti-Heath Ledger backlash, oh, he wasn't that good. I think he was, I think he did an excellent job.

More kids TV insanity- Yo Gabba Gabba (should be about the fucking Ramones, but no)- "This children's show is hosted by DJ Lance Rock, who teams up with his friends Muno, Foofa, Plex, Toodee and Brobee to learn important life lessons through music and dancing." Someone has lost their fucking mind here, and this time I don't think it's me.

And if there's a more stupid/annoying commercial on TV than that Big Mac chant, I don't know what it could possibly be. I wouldn't eat a Big Mac right now if it was made out of pussy.

What's Bill been watching?

Well, I watched "The Gorgon" on TCM a while back, a rather slow Hammer horror first viewed (by me) through a rainy windshield at a drive-in, in Chester, WV with Dear Gay Steve and a guy named Drew, double billed with Andy Warhol's Dracula, which had Udo Kier running around with a sub Walter Koenig accent looking for "wirgins", and nudity of the "put it back on" variety.

That was an odd trip, Drew and I went up to DGS's house for spring break '75, our freshman year, sort of a dooomed trip from the start, Drew was a lovely guy, which was pretty much the problem, he was a lovely guy, shy, soft soken doctor's kid, hadn't been out much, he really wasn't up to the rough and tumble of a week with Bill and DGS, only reason Steve asked him up was cos he had a car and Steve and I didn't-well, I had the Montego but as per usual it was between crashes and not running.

Drew was miserable even before we got there- he was uncomfortable I was drinking the whole ride up, (man, Joe will tell you, I used to not even be able to get in a car unless I had a beer in my hand) "What if I get stopped?", "Hell, you're sober, what's the big deal", and DGS took my side, "Lighten up, Drew," Drew immediately started finding fault when we got there, which hurt Steve's Mom's feelings -Steve didn't have a Dad, which is why he went gay, or so he told me- seriously- so he and Drew spent most of the first part of the week sniping at one another, putting Bill in the unaccustomed role of peacemaker, a role I'm neither comfortable with nor particularly good at- "If you two don't quit your goddamn bitching I'm gonna bang your fucking heads together!"

(DIDN'T YOU USED TO SAY THAT TO THE GIRLS, AS WELL?)

Still do.

Part of the problem was, there wasn't a lot to do in Chester, as mentioned, we went to the drive-in, Drew bitching about the rain- did I say he was a lovely guy? I take it back, he was a fucking crybaby bitch- finally, last night there Steve tells us about this big ass disco- yes, I said disco, this was 1975- called the Aquanaut- odd name, I know- that we could go to that night (it was only open on the weekend). I was all about it- as mentioned a billion times, Bill really likes to dance and to make it even better, DGS, who had actually been damn popular in high school, says he can hook me and Drew up with dates if we'd like. I don't mind findng my own, but if someone is going to save me the trouble . . .

However, not being a total fool . . .

Bill: You got pictures of these girls?

He did, and they both looked good. And it turns out I was already good buddies with this one girl, Christy's, brother, Sam. He'd come down to Marshall to visit Steve earlier in the year and had stayed in Steve's and my room, Sam was a big, burly, bearded motherfucker couple years older than us, at first glance he looked like a thug- he had a glass eye, too- and like the last guy in the world you'd expect to be friends with DGS, but they were close, and Sam turned out to be a really good guy, in the room Sam drank Black Velvet straight from the bottle, no chaser, first- actually, only- guy I've ever known to do that- he and I bonded during his visit over a really drunken night/bar fight at the Varsity Club- can't remember what it was really called, maybe that, we called it that cos a lot of Marshall athletes used to drink there, and some times they would just get on your fucking nerves . . .

After that night we were tight, I started calling him Sammy, which apparently he never let anyone do, Rick Ramell tried and Sammy told him, "My name's Sam, asshole" also, we're sitting in the room getting pounded-

Bill: Hey, man, you think I could see your glass eye? 
Steve: Oh my God. (Steve had told me before Sam- Sammy- had gotten there never to mention his glass eye) 
Sammy: My what? 
B: Your glass eye. You think I could see it? 
S: You mean, like, take it out? 
B: Do you mind?

Steve's about ready to bolt for the door, but Sammy ponders a second, shrugs-

S: Okay.

So he takes it out and hands it to me.

S: Don't break it. 
DGS: He already knows you.

I checked out his glass eye, it was pretty neat, but I bet that fucker would be uncomfortable there in your eye socket, I mean back in '75 at least, the fuckers WERE glass, if I ever get one of my eyes poked out, which could happen, I'm gonna wear me an eye patch like a fucking pirate, or Snake Plisskin.

So, I tell Steve to fix me up with Christy, cos she's cute, and I already have an in cos I know and like her brother. Also, Steve tells me Christy is "fun", and boy, I'm liking the sound of that, hell, her brother let me play with his glass eye, no telling what she might let me play with. The man himself, Sammy, stops by the house, he's going to meet us at the Aquanaut later- apparently it's THE place to be on the weekend- and I overhear him saying-

Sammy; Don't hook Christy up with Bill, hook her up with the other guy. 
DGS: I thought you liked Bill? 
S: I love Bill. But he's wild, and Christy's wild. You put the two of them together and I'm afraid of what might happen.

As soon as Sammy walked off I collared Steve-

DGS: I know, I know, you and Christy. I will, but if there's any trouble, you're the one's gonna have to deal with Sam.

Trouble? From me?

B: Thanks, man. I'll name it after you. 
DGS: Sometimes you're not funny.

Sometimes?

We picked the girls up and Christy was a fine looking girl indeed, even better than her photo, as was her companion, even whine box Drew had no room for complaint there. And I have to say, Bill looked marvelous indeed in his lime green leisure suit with multi-hued greeny-blue polyester shirt underneath and gigantic heeled brown two toned floor stompers. Laugh if you will, and you should, but in 1975 this was the height of fashion- you remember this outfit, Joe, I wore it the night we went to the Pompeii Club.

I had Steve ride in the front with Drew while I hopped in the back seat with both girls- none of this Mayberry seating shit for Bill- and off we went. The Aquanaut was a cool place, big, with three bars and three dance floors, if a bit crowded for my tastes, and for a brief time all was well. Christy was indeed a lot of fun, smart and funny, and a good dancer, which always bodes well for later. Then DGS has to come and rain on my parade.

B: What's the problem? 
DGS: Drew's date (I can't remember her name) is having a terrible time. She's wanting to leave. 
B: Don't tell me that. 
DGS: It's that fuckng mope ass Drew. 
B: Let me handle this.

I find Drew sitting staring off into space at our table, with his date looking pissed and bored.

B: Drew. Bathroom. Now. 
Drew: I don't have to- 
B: Oh yes you do.

So he follows me to the men's room, and instead of bouncing him off the walls like I should have done I try the fatherly approach-

B: What's the problem, buddy? Don't like your date? Cos she's seems awful fine to me. 
D: She is fine. I just . . . 
B: What? 
D: I don't know how to talk to girls. 
B: Jesus Christ. Do you know how to talk? 
D: Yes. 
B: Then you know how to talk to girls. 
D: But- 
B: Tell her she looks nice, buy her a drink, and get your ass out on the dance floor. 
D: Yeah, but- 
B: Do it, Drew. Or I swear to God . . .

I should have just beat his brains out and done a three way with Christy and his date both. We go back out and again for a brief period I'm havng a wonderful time with Christy, and not cos I'm looking ahead, she was a really sweet, attractive girl. Drew, however . . . he'd taken part of my advice, which was to buy his date a drink- and himself about five. Not being an experienced drinker at all- yeah, I'm sure you can see where this is heading. To compound his mistake, he was drinknig tequila sunrises, a vile drink that was popular at the time, and he said later, he ordered cos it was the only drink he knew the name of.

Christy and I are coming off the dance floor back to our table when Drew, that suave motherfucker, already got his sorry head down, bends over further and hurls all over his date's feet. To make it worse, that suave motherfucker Bill sees it and starts laughing his fool ass off. I know laughing was a mistake, but it struck me as funny, dammit, just one of those things.

The girls head off to the ladies room, Drew's date cursing him like a fishwife- and she's not too happy with laughing boy here, either. Fuck, I didn't do anything. I sort of shake my head at Drew in disgust and go up to sit at the bar- hell, there was a big pile of puke under our table. I'm still at the bar when DGS comes up and throws his arm across my shoulders, and some sixth sense tells me I'm not going to like what I'm about to hear.

DGS: Christy said to tell you that she had a wonderful time, and if you're ever back in town- 

B: What? 
DGS: She said- 
B: No, I understand what she said. Why is she saying it? Where the hell is she? 
DGS: Sam took her and Drew's date home. 
B: WHAT? Fucking hell, again, don't tell me that. For shit's sake, why? 
DGS: Bill, Drew's date had vomit all over her. 
B: Christy didn't have to leave with her. 
DGS: She felt like she did. 
B: Where's that fucking Drew? 
D: Why . . . 
B: Cos I'm gonna kill him.

I didn't, but I sure as hell wanted to. That was pretty much it for Drew and Steve's friendship- I didn't really know the candy ass except through Steve- after we got back to Huntington I don't think I ever saw Drew again. Never saw Christy again, either, more's the pity, but if I couldn't make it to Lewisburg, Chester may as well have been on the moon.

Also watched "They Came From Beyond Space" which came on right after "The Gorgon", and which I first watched at my grandparents house (my Dad's, in Martinsburg) one long afternoon when I was about twelve, I thought it was kind of boring then, and it was kind of boring this time as well, (it's one of those aliens possessing humans deals so they can save on effects, and excitement) but there wasn't much to do at my grandparents house back then, and there's not much to do here now, so I went ahead and watched it both times. And that title . . . I mean, what's beyond space?

(MORE SPACE?)

Yeah. But I guess "They Came From More Space" would sound even goofier. Thing is, they came from the fucking Moon.

Been watching lots of Japanese wrestling on Youtube, that damn thing is worse than Internet porn, I'll get on and say, "I'll just watch for a couple minutes" and then an hour or more has gone by before I have a clue. I love Jap wrestling though, and the insane names they give their moves- Sterness Dust Gamma and Sterness Dust Alpha, Emerald Flousion (Flousion?) and the Crash Thunder Buster, a lot of them have an Avalanche variation (Avalanche Crash Thunder Buster) which means it's given off the second, or even top rope. How those fuckers keep from killing one another is beyond me.

I was going to use this as an intro to the DFZ section, but I'm beat- I know, it's crazy, I should be able to stay up till dawn, always could, I don't know what the deal is at the moment. The Death Falcons got a couple big matches- if his beat to hell ass can make it to the ring- later this month, I'll just wait and we'll give him a big section next issue. Okay by you?

(YEAH. I KNOW YOU"RE STRUGGLING).

I really am. Anybody got any extra energy, send it this way.

Later

Bill