9/19/03

Our Sister The Sun

Pard, go get the ponies, we'll blow this town
The first one out the door will be the first to hit the ground

"I guess they had it coming."
"We all have it coming."

Hey

Thought I was going to get some sleep tonight, since I'm killer tired, but I came home and lay down and sleep once again just would not come, so . . . what's up, this all too familiar early am? Well, still doing that massively unhappy thing, missing the girls incredibly, it's even worse than I thought it was going to be, but that tune gets old, I know, so I'm not gonna play it this time around. Talked to the girls yesterday, Sarah's terribly homesick, is being told by her mom, "Get over it," I feel very bad for her, but she knew Loretta was a snake when she picked her up.

I think I'll open with a public service announcement. Any of you guys who have to go to Huntington on I-64, watch your damn speed, it's been just crawling with cops lately, even more than usual. Sundays are still the worst, with the damn local cops- I don't have any idea how many cop cars Barboursville has, but there were three of them out writing tickets last Sunday afternoon, you want to rob a convenience store, I'd say Barboursville around 2 pm Sunday is your best bet. The sheriff's of both Putnam and Cabell were hard at work Wednesday morning as well. They can't get you unless you're speeding though, so as I cautioned earlier, watch your speed.

There's this billboard there around Milton advertising for this lawyer- Will Steele. Swear to God. And while we're on the subject of names, was watching the Cubs the other night, relief pitcher for the other team, I think it was the Reds, comes in, named Belisle, pronounced Belial. I'm not real huge on symbolism, but if I was that guy I'm pretty sure I'd change my name.

If you guys got the PWI 500 (and if not, why not?) you'll see Bobby got a really good write up, at #291, I got a brief mention in his profile- "Feuding with Rick Morton and Death Falcon in Mason-Dixon." That's it, but again, how many magazines were you in this month? Only problem is, I've never wrestled for Mason-Dixon. The guide to indy leagues is supposed to be out next month, hopefully the DF will get a little more print in that. And I've seen the rough for the programs for the 26th, the DF gets a good write up in there, so when you're at the show, buy one.

What's Bill drinking? Green tea. Sorta wet earlier this week, drank a couple Buds earlier tonight, but I really need to stay dry and keep working out hard at least till the 26th.

Joe took some time off last week and we went out on his boat last Thursday from about 1 pm till around 9 or so, we rode slow up to the St. Albans/Nitro bridge, and drifted back. It was a good, good day, got tanned almost to the point of burning, but not quite, very relaxing, drinking Heinekens and listening to CDs, Neil Young is good drifting music, "Cortez The Killer" is great for it, that trippy/dreamy guitar stuff that he's so good at, just don't listen to the lyrics, which moronically glorify both old Hernando and the Aztecs, a more bloodthirsty bunch of mother fuckers you are very unlikely to find- "War was just a legend/Hate was never known"- WHAT?!- tell that to the 60,000 prisoners of war the Aztecs were supposed to have ripped the fucking hearts out of IN A SINGLE DAY, I wasn't there to see it, but they said they did and I believe them. Jeez, Louise, Neil, I'm not exactly expecting a history lesson in song, but come on, I may have gone off about this once before, but that whole "noble savage" myth just gets right up my butt.

In fact I was so moved many years ago upon first hearing "Cortez" that I wrote my own rebuttal- Cortez was a maniac/And if somehow he were brought back/I'd kick his ass from here to home/And make him eat the bloody bone/Oh yeah, and them Aztecs?/They weren't no good either. I don't know what the bloody bone is, I wrote this while drunk, but it sounds sufficiently nasty. I may have included this before as well, but YOU do these for almost 2 years, half of them ripped, and not repeat yourself.

Almost done with the NY biography, don't normally read this slowly, but I've only been reading it while I've been sitting around here drinking beer. One of his early 90's songs contained the couplet- "Why'd you take my kid?/Why'd you ruin my life?" If you get an answer on that Neil, get back to me. He's also at one point called "a grizzled old fuck of almost 47" which I resent mightily.

Struggling with the KS Robinson book, about 200 pages in, but it's slow, slow, slow. Drains may be languishing in some drawer at Tor, but at least it's fast paced, page 10 and you've already got Baba getting his face ripped off by a giant leech.

Met some friends for lunch last Friday at Huck Finns- if I'd known sooner, Joe, we could've have taken your boat back up- haven't been there for a while, when the weather's nice, as it was last Friday, that is an excellent place to spend an afternoon.

Got a couple new wrestling tapes, only because they were dirt, dirt cheap, one is a shoot interview with Chris Adams. For those of you who have the full insert version of the Tang Spoons CD, he's the guy on page 3 kicking Michael Hayes in the face. Always liked old Chris, really liked the super kick cos I could identify with it, it wasn't this smooth looking Oriental deal, but this awkward white boy "I practically have to throw myself down on my face to kick you in the jaw" affair. Chris was married to two of the best looking women you'd ever want to see, but he also had a reputation for drug use and bad attitude, and like so many things, it ended in tears, he being shot dead in his own home a couple years ago by his best friend (yeah, I know, who needs enemies) who claimed self defense, saying Chris was out of his mind on drugs and trying to kill him.

Bobby knew Chris, traveled with him some while they were in WCW, said he was a nice enough guy, but obsessed with the cost of things, down to the penny- "These bloody boots cost me $411.24, this watch was $309.15, dinner last night was $44.78, can I borrow "60.52?"

World Class Championship Wrestling was the hottest promotion of the early 80's, they had Texas going CRAZY, and look at 'em today- David Von Erich, Gino Hernandez, Terry Gordy, Rick Rude all dead of drug ODs, Kerry and Chris Von Erich shot themselves (Kerry shot himself in the chest so he wouldn't mess up his purty face, good Lord) Mike Von Erich suicided on Placidyl, Bruiser Brody stabbed in the heart by the despicable Invader 1, someone needs to kill his shittin' ass, seriously, just tear his goddamn head off, Chris Adams shot by his buddy. That's a lot of mayhem. Abdullah used to trundle through there a couple times a year to stick a fork in whoever didn't move fast enough, and he's still trundling today, God love him. Keep your goddamn drugs, boys, just give me ten more fried chickens.

Also got a shoot with Kevin Sullivan, whom Missy Hyatt (who used to be very hot, but refused to let time and nature take it's course, so she kept getting implants, and collagen injections, and God knows what, to where now she looks like this raggedy unreal porno Muppet type thing and sells nude photos of herself over the Internet- very sad) once called, in all sincerity, "that devil worshiping little troll". I'll bring it down some night Joe and we'll crack some beers and watch it.

Still don't have a full time job. This Birth To Three stuff is really turning into a pain- not a major pain compared to what a lot of you have to deal with, I'm sure, but a pain nonetheless, the insurance mopes are jerking me around, and I can't get my damn CIB stuff back, they said two weeks at most, it was three last Wednesday and I still haven't seen it. Need to get going soon, cos money is starting to be an issue.

Could always move back in with ma and pa (JUST KIDDING) cos apparently Tina is moving out. Yeah, I know, I about fell over myself. Not sure where she's moving to, asked if she was moving in with new boyfriend Vince, my mom said, "She hasn't said anything about him asking her," to which my Dad replied, "I sure as hell didn't ask her to move in here, but that didn't stop her." Wherever she's headed, she's promised them she'll be out by November 1st, which will be a relief, if I have to listen to my dad bitch about those cats and their stink much longer I'm gonna go fucking nuts.

Actually, Joe and I met Tina up at The Empty Glass Tuesday night to watch Spurgie play and she was very nice, bought us each some beers, going out of her way to introduce me to her friends. Weird. Spurgie sounded about the same as always, but he's revved up some of his songs, and they're not the better for it. I know it's unusual for me to complain about songs being too fast, but a lot of his stuff isn't rock and roll, and speeding them up only exacerbates the tendency of Spurgie's stuff to get samey sounding, particularly since they like to play every song for ten minutes. Eric from Jarvis Skye is playing with them, but he didn't do a whole lot the other night, couple leads, mostly he just strummed along. Spurgie was asking about you, Dave, we need to get up there sometime soon. And Tom still has the cheesiest stage patter of all time, but like Joe said, "That's what I like about him."

Drank some Micheloeb Amber Bock draft at the EG, it was lousy, but I think a lot of that was because it was flat, I'd heard they had a pretty good draft selection there, but not Tuesday, Joe got the last of the Guinness, about 2/3 of a glass, so we drank bottled, Beck's Dark, expensive. Also drank a couple shots of Jagermeister that Tina bought, I think it's highly overrated, but it will do a job on you if you get too many in you. Met some interesting people, a couple who work at the downtown library, some diabetic guy into comics and Mothman. Probably never see them again. Tina's friend Laura was there as well, she looks a lot better now as a blonde, or maybe I'm just a lot hornier than the last time I saw her.

Watched "Monster From The Surf" the other morning, came on about 2 am or so. This is the type of late night hysteria that makes insomnia worth while. You've got a bad script, horribly acted, and if you give me a funnel and a couple of garbage bags I can make you a monster costume as good as the one in this movie, and if I can find a constipated half wit to play it, one that's portrayed as well. "Squat like you're straining to take a shit . . . a little more- that's it. Now can you shuffle toward the camera in that position? Perfect". There's just crazy shit in here, the action just stops near the beginning for like five minutes of randomly inserted surfing footage, later this guy gets dropped off in the middle of town, in the middle of the night, next scene he's walking on the beach in the daytime- did he get lost, or what? No, it's so he can look out to sea for five MORE minutes of surf footage.

At one point the Sheriff turns to call for his Deputy, who's standing right behind him, I think someone missed their mark, so he turns and yells "C'mere Scott!" right in this guys face, they take casts of the monster's prints to Mr. Local Scientist who proclaims them the paw prints (PAW PRINTS) of the South American fantigua fish- "Could it walk on land?" "Yes, if it had enough fluid in its lungs" (ITS LUNGS), the theme song is sung by a lion hand puppet (I could see the guys lips move), there's this girl twisting on the beach got more in the front of her bathing suit bottom than I do, this is entertainment.

I've been invited to go see "Underworld", but the more I see of the commercials the more Matrixy it looks, not so sure I want to make the investment.

Went out to eat at Applebee's with Joe and Laura and some of their work folk last night, this guy Sean, very cool guy, I like him, and a couple young cuties, Allegra and Aleena (that's phonetic), then over to Aladdin's for the cha cha lessons. Yeah. Let me tell you, watching Joe cha cha is a sight to make strong men tremble, and women give birth to two headed calves, at one point I could actually feel myself turning to stone- I think Joe already has- I had to slap myself and look away, then chug a beer. But by god, despite having the flexibility and rhythmic sense of a cigar store Indian, and apparently not knowing left from right- I'm not sure he can count, either- Joe still cha cha'd up a damn storm, (Isabel, actually) so more power to you, big guy, I was proud of you.

There were also some fine looking girls there, especially the female instructor- the male instructor was pretty precious, himself- and if you're going to watch a good looking woman dance and keep her clothes on, the cha cha is right up there, love that girly hip shake stuff. I think Joe and Laura are going back next Thursday, knock yourselves out- Joe, I don't mean that literally.

Got hurt at training Sunday, and it's no joke, in fact I think I did you one better, Chris. I dislocated my left thumb, though I don't think with consequences as serious as you've had with your finger, or so I'm hoping. I was working lard butt Vito- he says he's just 250 but he feels a lot heavier, went to do an exploder on him and he sandbagged me bad, and I dropped him straight on his head, which is starting to become a bad habit of mine. Wasn't on purpose, I was just too weak to get him over- I got some sleeping pills from a friend, about a weeks supply, I'm saving them for next week, cos that's when I really need to be rested- but Bob thought it was on purpose and got a kick out of it, cos he thought I was putting Vito in his place for sandbagging.

We go to do it again and I get his big ass up and over this time, but in so doing I get my thumb caught in his knee brace, and damn near tear my thumb off. I'm not kidding, Jesus, it hurt. It made this ripping sound, Bobby thought I'd ripped my pants, no, man, that was my hand. Bob popped it back in for me, I iced the hell out of it for the next few days, kept it wrapped, it's still pretty sore and swollen, but not nearly as bad as I would have thought, considering how bad it looked when I did it. Joe took some pictures, not sure if they came out to where you could tell anything or not, if so, then they're on the site.

Health is a precarious thing. I just heard that a friend of a friend- well, I think he's my friend too, I just seldom see him- was diagnosed with prostate cancer out of the blue (and into the black, terrible pun, sorry), then Joe's nephew Jason- he helped me bury Buttercup last December for you older readers- was moving a glass table top and it shattered and somehow a piece of it got behind him- that's some badass glass- and sliced into his upper heel and severed his Achilles tendon. Jesus, you guys be careful out there.

Wild Kingdom, Pt. 2. Joe picked me up at my parents Tuesday to go to the EG, I went ahead and spent the night at my parents rather than drive back out here, I TOLD them they needed to bring the cat food in at night (there's 2 outdoor cats, 3 indoor) but of course no one listens to me, so when Joe drops me off, that damn possum was back on the porch chowing down on cat food. My dad walks by on his way to the bathroom (he's always on his way to the bathroom, unless he's already in there) looks out the front door window and sees me standing in the yard, so he comes on out-

D: What are you standing out in the yard for?
B: I'm not coming up in the porch with that possum there.
D: What possum?
B: That one.
D: There's no possum up here.
B: Look again, Hawkeye.
D: There? That's Cal- I BE DAMNED, A POSSUM!

He draws back his foot to kick, and I can see which way he's aiming.

B: Hey, WATCH IT!

Too late. If he was trying to kick that damn possum onto my head, he couldn't have done a better job. Fortunately, I saw it coming and was able to duck and cover, otherwise I'd have taken a damn flying possum right in the mush. The possum hit the ground running for parts unknown, hopefully getting the message he's not wanted, and that he'd no doubt be safer playing in traffic.

B: For God's sake, why'd you kick that possum right where I was standing?
D: Why were you standing where I kicked that possum?

There's no talking to that man.

If only she would have screamed to let us know she was in trouble, maybe we could have gotten there in time.

Man, I gotta get to bed.

Later

Bill