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9/17/04 All Or Nothing
Hey What's Bill been up to? Been kind of busy, which translates to not too bored, which is why it's been a couple weeks since the last one of these, boredom being the main motivating factor in getting them out. First order of business, in the "I don't wanna be buried/In a Pet Sematary" department, I got called out to do undertaker duty again week before last, I must have this invisible- to me, at least- sign around my neck that says "Bury your pet?" Anyway, one of Tina's cats either got into something it shouldn't have, or else something just went drastically wrong inside it, it had a puking and seizing spell and then shuffled off this mortal coil. Lucky bastard. She brought it out to my parents house to be buried, where so many pets have already gone into that back yard over the years, if future generations ever dig it up they're gonna think it was a tar pit. While Tina used to rhyme with "do less bitch", love has mellowed her considerably, but she's still fucking do less. Seems to me a grown woman should be able to dig a hole herself, but the job still fell to Buryin' Bill here, although to give her a modicum of credit, she at least thanked me for it after I was done, which she wouldn't have done five years ago. I take the box with Mercury in it- have you ever noticed how animals get heavier after they die?-boy, I have-and head out for the graveyard. My Dad comes out to "help", and immediately starts doing that goddamn thing he does. B: All right, you're doing that goddamn thing you do. Tempted though I was, I only dug one hole, and eventually the job got done. I stop by there again the next morning on my way home from Al's and I'll be damned, once again (see last issue) my Dad is shoving a steaming plate under my nose, this time a bunch of red stuff over spaghetti. B: And this would be? Stopped by the NEXT day, to find him up on a ladder there in front of the house. B: Haven't you been told to stay off ladders? He goes running in the house with a swarm of pissed off wasps in hot pursuit. I go inside, my Dad's up in the bathroom doctoring his wasp (who won't bother you if you don't bother them) stings, my Mom asks, "Why'd you get your Daddy all wasp stung?' B: Why'd I WHAT? My Dad hollers from the bathroom- "THEY WEREN'T BOTHERING ME TILL YOU SHOWED UP, DAMN YOU!" Jesus. Although he does have a point. My Dad being old school to the core, his remedy for stings is to make a paste with baking soda and water and glob it onto the sting. Don't see how that could help, but he does it. He comes out of the bathroom.
When we get back he's in a slightly better mood, starts talking about this show he'd watched in the middle of the night before, I think on Discovery Health, I'm about half listening to him like I do, and he says, "Turns out he was a morphodite." B: He was a what?
Someone said I was awful hateful to Al in the last newsletter, not at all, in fact I was being generous. Took him to the doctor since then, which, being him, he protested vigorously, "I'm healthy as a bullfrog" he kept saying, which is a new one on me. Got him something to help him sleep at night and it's made a lot of difference, thankfully, I think a lot of why he was getting so crazy mean is cos he was wore out exhausted from being up most of every night, which was having the same effect on me. Something's also gotten into Al's attic, in fact, I think two somethings, since it often sounded like one thing chasing another, been bugging me the past two nights running around over me head while I'm trying to sleep. Might be squirrels, although I've had them in here before and they're not usually active at night, or raccoons or possums or gargoyles, who knows. Surely not me, cos I'm not going up there to check it out. I don't investigate bumps in the night, never have done, and I don't intend to start. If whatever it is wants to come mess with me I'll give it all the fucking trouble it can handle, but I'm not going looking for it. Read "It's Nothing", by one William Bitner in issue #58 of Space and Time magazine (January '81) for my thoughts on the subject. This doesn't include obvious "someone's breaking into the house" noises, I'm talking about those creepy ass middle of the night noises we all hear- you do hear 'em too, don't you?- like that scratching noise from inside the walls, or that sound like someone's walked up and is standing at the foot of your bed, or that other sound, like someone's whispering over in the corner of the room, and you can't quite make out what they're saying, but you know it's not "Have a nice day". What's Bill drinking? Beer.
Got some psych stuff as well, "Inner Marshland" by Bevis Frond, okay, but not as good as his better stuff, like "Triptych", and "The Insect Hospital" by ST 37, again, okay, but unfortunately not as good as I'd hoped. ST 37 are young Texas fans of personal icon Roky Erikson, the album is dedicated to him, so I had high hopes, but these guys aren't the Rok. They do a techno version of "Cold Night For Alligators" that just doesn't cut it. Still, a couple decent songs, so it's not terrible, just not great. Finally, got Sun Ra (and his Arkestra's) Greatest Hits, you should remember old Sun from "He's Not From No Mars", and again, it's okay, but not great. I thought this would be some weird ass shit, I was hoping, anyway, but it's just this sax and piano jazz stuff, that may be slightly more out there than most of it, but not what I was hoping it would be.
(I'D SAY A GOOD BIT MORE THAN HALF. YOU LOOKED AT THE CLOCK LATELY?) I never look at clocks. They piss me off. What's Bill been watching? Well, this thing on Stevie Ray Vaughan on that free weekend thing you get with shitbag DirecTV, more from curiosity's sake, cos I never liked him much, I think he's tremendously overrated, only thing he ever did I think was any good was his cover of "Voodoo Child (Slight Return)". A lot of guitar playing types adore him, but any of them that I've ever worked with, I also think THEY suck. Like Tom whatever his name was, lead guitar player when I was doing bass for Spurgie band back in '93. Never cared for Tom, which is what eventually got me kicked out of the band, I just always thought he was a dick, but Spurgie couldn't see it. And I've said this before, but it's true, it's just intrinsically hard for a drinking man to be in a band with three stoners anyway, I was playing a Rickenbacker with a pick which gets my favorite bass sound ever, that classic Brit rock bass noise, but they were used to a funkier Fender with fingers sound. Also, they played too goddamn slow, I remember one time saying "Do you think we could possibly play that song any slower?" and Spurige, totally missing the sarcasm, goes, "Yeah, Bill's right, let's slow it down a little." Good Lord. Tom did have an interesting background though, in '93 he'd just come back from a stint in Kuwait finding and deactivating land mines left over from the first Gulf War in '91, made a shit pot full of money in just 6 months of it, which was the length of his contract with whatever private company he was working for, decided not to re-up cos he'd seen too many guys get blown the fuck up, which I believe. So I guess it's no wonder he was weird, and smoked pot like a fiend. I still thought he was a dick. Also saw the MC 5 on Trio, much more my pitcher of gin, just a great guitar band, great songs. This was the current (2003) incarnation, with the 3 surviving members looking very ancient and hard (RIP Rob Tyner and the awesome Fred "Sonic" Smith), had some lefty on second guitar, I think it was Deniz Tek from Radio Birdman, but since they never said, and I'm not sure I've ever seen a photo of old Deniz, don't hold me to it. None of them can sing a lick, which they were happy to demonstrate, so they had a bunch of guest vocalists, (Dave Vanian, Lemmy, Ian Astbury) none of whom could sing a lick either. Where was my fucking invitation- I can sing that MC 5 shit like nobody's business. Kick out the jams, motherfuckers. Was watching the Beverly Hillbillies with Al the other morning- he's a fan, and I am too. Jethro was in his Roman Empire phase, got pissed at Jed cos he thought Jed was trying to steal this hot little Italian maid away from him, so he gets all armored up and tells Jed "I'm gonna take you down to the Colosseum and gladiate ya! Once the lions are done eating the hippies, me and you are going at it!" I bet writing for that show was a hell of a lot of fun. Charisma Carpenter- after viewing the photos Joe included in the last issue- not to mention the others at the link he sent me- I have to admit she's pretty wonderful, but I still don't see her as the Wonder Woman character. Also, while I'm sure she's a beautiful woman, I'm always suspicious of those Playboy and their ilk's photo spreads ever since I saw this thing on TV that showed how they took photographs of already attractive women and computer improved them until they look almost inhuman. I prefer my women real, warts and all- though, you know, preferably without warts. I do really like that blissed out expression Charisma's got in that one photo, though, like she's getting off, I find that look very stimulating. When I get off, I look like I've just been gut shot. A couple people let me know Tom Welling plays Superboy on the "Smallville" TV show, which I don't get out here in the hinterlands, got an e-mail from a reader who informed me Christian Bale was in "Reign Of Fire", only guy I remember from that was old pumped up Mathew what's his name, and he sure gained and lost that bulk fast, didn't he? I'm top prime cut of meat, I'm your choice What's with the Alice quote, you ask? Well, some pollster called out at Joe and Laura's the other day, got Charlie, and asked him who he was voting for for President, he told 'em "Bill Bitner". You know what, I think that's an excellent idea. Last presidential election was the first one I didn't vote in since I became of age, been voting for (or against) them sons of bitches since 1976, but in 2000 I simply could not bring myself to vote for either one of the major candidates, both of whom I genuinely considered to be pieces of raw sewage (save your hate mail, I don't wanna fucking hear it). I'm having a similar problem this year, although I don't really hate Kerry, not like I did that total fuck face Al Gore. Anyway, this year I fully intend to vote for myself for President, and I heartily advise all of you to do the same. Seriously. And while we're on a political note, and talking about raw sewage, Loretta the morphodite is at it again. She originally registered Republican way back when, switched to Democrat in '96 cos she hated me at the time, and also so she could go out and screw around- this is not just pissy speculation on my part, although I was already long aware of it by then, I ran into someone as recently as last spring who used to work with her at the PSC and who wanted to give me the dirt on Loretta and her '96 "campaigning", I just told him "you're about 8 years too fucking late, buddy, just keep it to yourself", sort of bit his head off, which I felt sorry for later cos he's actually a pretty nice guy, but honestly, what's the fucking point of telling me about another one of her infidelities NOW? All you're gonna fucking do is hurt me worse, and I been hurt enough already, thank you- while she was allegedly working on the Charlotte Pritt campaign, as recently as the 2000 election she was still a good WV Democrat, absolutely HATED George Bush, I remember her saying at the time that if he gets elected he'll wreck the country. Four short years later, now whoring for Gandhi, who's a staunch Republican, she's once again registered Republican, Bush is one of the best Presidents we've ever had, and John Kerry is a lying sack of shit who, if elected, will wreck the country. It's nice to know there are people out there who still have the courage of their convictions. Fucking hosebag. If I ever kill her it will be with my bare fucking hands, I swear to God, and it's not gonna be quick. Staying political, I was at the house the other day- yeah, I have been spending a lot of time out there recently, keeps me from drinking so much- and my Dad, who was reading the paper, goes- "Did you see this headline? It says 'Many demented people to vote in general election'". Actually I had, the article was about all these Alzheimer's folk, especially in Florida, who are still registered and still voting. B: Yeah, I saw that. By the way, who you voting for? He fucking kills me. Been asked for some new recipes, it's been damn ages since I've included any. I haven't included any cos I don't cook anymore, and while I'm thinking about it, for those of you asking when the girls will be in next, what I'm hearing is November. Yeah, I said NOVEMBER- they left here August 13th. This time together that's being stolen from me and the girls can never be given back to us, and- ah, FUCK IT. I don't want to fucking talk about it. Anyway, here's a recipe for anchovy burritos. Get a burrito wrap, put a bunch of shredded sharp cheese on it, put a can of anchovies- I prefer the flat fillets- on top of that, make sure you pour all the oil out of the can on as well, microwave for 55 seconds- and please, PLEASE never say "nuke" for microwave in my presence, that expression absolutely gets right up my nose for some reason- and enjoy. You can only eat these if you live alone, but after a couple you can go find some bugs and breathe on them and watch them shrivel up and die. Had an abridged Movie Club up at Chris's Saturday before last, watched "Taking Lives", it wasn't bad but I didn't really like it, as noted before I cannot get into the serial killer theme even a little bit, but Angelina Jolie takes most of her clothes off in one scene- good for her- so it wasn't a total waste. Also watched "Kill Bill Vol. 2"- Sarah told me on the phone the other day the Kill Bill movies are favorites of Gandhi's, of all people, it has to be the titles, seriously- it wasn't too good either, not that we were expecting much. Vol. 2 is much slower than Vol. 1, I'd heard just the opposite.
Her name's Caitlan Keats, why don't you run a picture of her Joe, cos I think she's hot. We were also talking a little about the Death Falcon, Ron said "He just did a drive by last show, didn't he?" which was great, sounds a hell of a lot cooler than a run in. We were working on the Vodka Collins again at Chris's, the lime juice- didn't we make them with lemon juice last time?- was getting to my stomach after a while, so I stopped at a 7-11 on the way home for some chocolate milk, there was this insanely effeminate guy working there behind the counter, I mean this guy was on fire, and he started jabbering at me non stop as soon as I came in the store. Maybe he was nervous doing the late night shift, or maybe he was just one of those talkers, I don't know, but honestly, if I'd been inclined to mayhem that yapping would have definitely sealed the deal. I get my chocolate milk and come up to the counter to pay- 7-11 Guy: You know what I like to eat late at night? Well, that tickled him so much he forgot to tell me, which was fine by me.
(I GOT SOMETHING RIGHT HERE THAT WOULD KEEP HER EYES WET). - I hear that, anyway, I don't remember her being that hot all those years back when she was doing "Northern Exposure", but then again I never watched the show, so maybe she was and I just missed it. Oh yeah, and that 50 year old in the purple bikini in the Bowflex commercial? Also very hot, and she sure damn doesn't live around here. Went over to Joe's the next night, Laura was in New Orleans over Labor Day weekend, she had a nice time from what I've heard, and so did everyone else, good for ya, we sat out on his dock and night fished, which means we drank beer and smoked cigars. Very relaxing. Also talked a lot of smut, much of which I threatened to include in here, but have decided against it, bragging about your sexual adventures- in print, anyway-is pretty tacky, even for me. Although I STILL get commentary from people new to the site who've gone back and read "Hammered", asking, "Did she really?" Yes, she did. I will include a little advice though. I was talking about how I've been from A- Amy, two of 'em- to Z, Zahara, which there's probably only been one of in the world, Zahara- I had her spell it for me- was her, ahem, "stage" name, which was the only one she gave me, though not the only thing she gave me, if you catch my drift. Anyway, my advice is, instead of trying to save $2.29- the cost at the time, which was April '76- in beer money and instead try to cure what ails you by using a home remedy involving pubic deforestation, gasoline and or lighter fluid- SPEND THE $2.29! Trust me on this one. I hope all of you enjoyed "Jim And Mr. Peanut" as much as I did, I think Anita's reading of it is damn hilarious. It's on the website, check it out. She and Miss Impetuous came out to the FBBFWS last Thursday, they weren't up for the advanced lesson I had planned for them- maybe next time- but we did all hang out, along with Joe and Charlie, drinking PBR and Sam Smith's Nut Brown Ale. Come back any time, ladies. They're currently at the beach, hope you're having a wonderful time, wish I was there. The Death Falcon made an appearance at the XMCW show last Saturday in Nitro, for a thrashing of the hapless Smokey C. I gigged him good with this metal pipe wrapped in barbed wire, got some good color, Joe was there taping so he should be able to include some stills from the match. Took a couple suplexes on a bunch of tacks, but these weren't those giant killer Rachel/Juggulator tacks, these were just the regular kind, so it wasn't too bad. I got a tack stuck right on the point of my elbow, right on the bone, it's still sore, ditto where one stuck in my palm right at the base of my thumb, that's still sort of swollen and sore as well. Poor Smoke, however, took a power bomb onto the tacks that got him back stuck pretty thoroughly, then I scraped a bunch of tacks into a pile, stuck his face in it, and then stomped on the back of his head, which got him face stuck pretty thoroughly. I didn't call that one, for fear he'd move his head. I guess there's really not much to boast about in dish ragging some skinny kid, but I'm not gonna lie, I did get something of a kick pounding the hell out of some guy 30 years younger than me. Get outta town, junior. My mom saw an obituary in the paper sometime since the last newsletter for my fifth grade teacher, Mr. Cox. Even though that was still in Camp Springs, he was from Beckley, and I guess he went back there after he retired. Mr. Cox was a very neat man, although he looked like a brute, very thuggish, dark greasy- which was the style then- hair and already a five o'clock shadow when he showed up in the morning. He also had an artificial right arm, a cosmetic one, not the kind that ended in a hook, one of those primitive mid- 60's deals, the damn thing weighed about 30 pounds and if Mr. Cox did this bizarre Mae West looking "come hither" motion with his shoulder, he could manage to get the thumb to open and close. Big deal, but it was state of the art for it's time. He used that arm to give you this godawful Vulcan death pinch thing right at the base of your neck if you were cutting up in class, God bless, it was this horrible combination of numbness and intense pain, even my hard head only needed a couple pinches before I decided cutting up in this class was just not worth it. Of course this was back in the day, he'd be sued out of this world if he tried that now, but back then- M: What's that bruise on your neck? At the beginning of every school year Mr. Cox would relate the story of how he lost his right arm, and got his left one all fucked up- the hand on his left arm was fused into this claw like thing, which he somehow used to write with. As a lad he and a friend had been messing around this coal mine after school, and Mr. Cox had gone to walk under this cable. He had to stoop to get under it, and as it brushed the back of his neck, he reached up to lift it off. Well, the damn thing was electrified, very, and it started electrocuting the shit out of Mr. Cox. His little friend, showing almost unbelievable presence of mind, picked up a board and swung it at Mr. Cox. The first swing knocked his left hand loose, which is why he retained that arm, mangled though it was. It took a second swing to knock his right arm loose, by which time it had been burned too badly to save. He used to tell this story the first day of class, and take his arm off and let us check it out, so it would all be out of the way first thing. I remember thinking his arm stump still looked awful raw for this having happened 20 years earlier, and I also remember when his fake arm got to me, the first thing I did was sock Tom Kniebel- pronounced like "Knievel", with a hard "K"- in the side of the head with it. T: OW!
Turns out he was a morphodite. (YEAH, WELL AS SOON AS THE LIONS ARE DONE EATING THE HIPPIES, ME AND HIM ARE GOING AT IT). Go to it. Me, it's late-damn, way late, now I'm pissed off, see why I don't look at clocks?- and I'm outta here. Later. Bill
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You know I would if I could 
M: Aaagh! 
Been at war with nature here of late myself, got spider bit and wasp
stung in the same afternoon, on the left thumb and right wrist, I killed
both of the little fuckers, I'm all about live and let live, but they
started it.
What's Bill listening to? Ordered some CD's off the Internet, and I'm
listening to them. In the pop division, got Crabby Appleton's self titled
first album solely for the excellent "Go Back", (#36 from summer
'70), worth it for that one great song, any of those power pop bands of
the late 70's would have given their eye fucking teeth for a song this
good. Also got- I'm almost embarrassed to admit this- The Buckingham's
Greatest Hits, they were sort of lame, even for their time, but they also
had two killer songs that I really like, "Kind Of A Drag" (how
could you not love a song with that title?) and the even better
"Don't You Care?" with it's plaintive refrain "Can't you
see/You're hurting me?/Don't you care?/Don't you care?"
Unfortunately, big guy, sometimes they don't.
Still, none of this stuff is anything less than listenable, and it's
good to have some new stuff to listen to, period, so I'm happy. And about
half pixilated.
There was this one girl in KBV2, just had a small role as one of the
wedding party, she caught my eye, to tell on myself, my first thought when
I saw her was that she did porn, cos I associated her with getting a hard
on, then I recognized her as someone from a commercial, the one where she
says she 29 even though she's not. It was funny, I brought that up and
every guy in the room knew exactly who she was, Debbie's 16 year old
nephew Will even knew what the commercial was for, which I couldn't have
told ya- it's for Olay- none of the women recognized her. Olay might want
to rethink their commercial strategy, since I don't think it's getting to
it's intended audience.
And before we leave commercials, I think Janine Turner is looking awful
damn hot in that commercial she's doing for something that keeps your eyes
wet-
That was when I got my first Vulcan death pinch.
