April Hunter prefers having me online.
The key to her is that she isn't into flirting. Treat her with class and she'll loosen right up. Nice girl.
Do you realize that Fergie's solo CD has spent almost a FULL YEAR in the top twenty sales, and mostly in the top ten? She's a bonafide superstar now.
And she's a meth-head... which means you can get her high and do her ass with no lube. God Bless us all.
What I like about her is that her face looks smudged, like it was left in the rain for a few minutes before the ink could dry. That's some hard living on that mush. And she wears falsies. Aces.
Let's answer some more questions:
1) August 19, 2007 8:32 AM
Anonymous asks... Will we ever get to read Independence on a Saturday Night?
I hate to say never, but probably never.
Did I ever get around to bragging like an asshole about the plot? Well...
And Another Thing: Independence on a Saturday Night is (was/willbe/whothefuckknows) about a day in the life of an Indy promoter. The day is Saturday and the end will be his monthly Indy show. I was going to do it 24 style where each chapter would be the time of day, starting at 6 am where one half of his tag team champions - a fat twin brother act - was calling from jail where he got picked up for not paying child support. The guy is a moron with a habit of making up new words on the spot. So the hero's day begins then.
Over the course of the story the hero hustles about town getting ready for the show, he yells at the stoner who was supposed to slip flyers in the local newspaper but got high instead, his chief ref is a drunk, his homegrown superstar is an arrogant fuckhead who crippled a young wrestler just starting out, but he has someone from the WWE coming in that night to offer him a development deal, he has an old time star coming in to work a special feature match, and his main diva/valet, who he thinks of as a little sister is knocked up and showing.
And he hires a mystery worker named "John Lee" for some reason.
There is also the "other" indy booker who tries to fuck the show up... and the mob-affiliated landlord who wants the rent.
Anyway, the story features and monster monologue where he convinces the Judge (a Saturday court hearing??? Welcome to the world of fiction!!) to release the deadbeat dad, ends up bailing him out (where he tries to leave the state before the show but has a fistfight with his twin brother and they ended up not wanting to work together), the old time ex-superstar (I was thinking Honky Tonk Man as my base) showing up drunk and bitchy and demanding more money and more money for his road dog who travels with him and is the only one he'll work with (hence the "special attraction") and "John Lee" being a shooter in the classic sense ("Hooker") who just totally mangles that arrogant up-and-comer in front of the scout. The climax has the mob send legbreakers to collect on the rent but the drunk, obnoxious veteran saving the day and beating ass. The end is a nice chat with the vets road dog who tells our hero to keep on going, because the entertainment is real, no matter how many people he's playing to... or bullshit like that.
I doubt it'll ever see the light of day for a lot of reasons: 1) It's fixing to be about 200 fucking pages, 2) My year at DOI showed to me just how unrealistic my scenario is, 3) I didn't want to get laughed at my the various Indy people who would've read it 4) My hero was TOO good... Indy promoters are generally cheap, dime-store skunks, 5) I could never figure out how our hero financed such a production every month, and 6) WHO HAS TIME TO WRITE 200 FUCKING PAGES OF FREE ENTERTAINMENT??? and 7) Indy feds are 99% former big deals working the circuit for a few bucks, my fed was 99% homegrown local talent.
I am willing to sacrifice a lot of reality for a story, but any point I was trying to make (and this story's main point was finding the love for pro wrestling no matter what the cost) would've gone down under a haze of non-believable plot elements.
So I canned it.
And there you have it.
August 19, 2007 12:53 PM
Relevance asks... Have you ever lent your name to someone else to post under, or have you ever written under a pseudo-pseudonym? (rumors abound that you are Flea, CRZ, Dusty, and Widro... God help us if any of that is true.)
No.
Once upon a time, years ago, and because we were TOTAL FAGGOTS... Flea and I gave up each other's AIM passwords. The only notable occurence is that the young lady with whom I was infatuated with (long time readers know her as "Amanda") always knew when she was talking to Flea and when she was talking to me. Trish Stratus got all paranoid once about the two of us swapping screen names and cussed out Flea... who cussed ME out, "I could buy and sell that bitch!!" he hollered. But other than that, nothing.
As for posting columns under an assumed name... or under someone else's name... well, let's break this down:
Flea: Flea writes like he talks. Flea talks like he's in his own world. You can't write like Flea because you would have to THINK like Flea, and there ain't a writer on the planet who can do that.
CRZ: Now really, do any of you think, for one single second, that I could POSSIBLY recap a two hour Raw and a three hour recap by typing every single minute detail right down from bell to bell? Where in my entire history online have I proven to be even REMOTELY capable of that?
Dusty the Fat Bitter Cat: He wrote too much like me in terms of outlook and attitude. If I were to try to do something like that, I'd be creativer enough to go in a completely different direction.
Widro: Boring as fuck. Widro never had anything to say and said it in as few words as possible.
Besides, if I was to write under someone else's name, there would be a payoff down the road. I'd be doing it for a reason and by now you would have known it. I never did anything special online unless the end result would be to add to the legend. What possible pay-off could there be for doing any of those guys?
I DID do a news column under Al Isaacs name for Scoops back in the day... and it caused a semi-major hysteria that scared Remy "The Slammer" Artiega shitless to the point where he had to add a bonus "Its me, lovable Hyatte!" coda at the end... which I LOATHED AND HATED! Remy was a douche. I recall announcing that Bob Ryder married Dave Scherer and goofed on Rick Scaia and Mike Samuda and said that Hyatte was an asshole and basically flipped off the Net in general (trust me, 9 years ago that was a HUGE deal). That was fun. I miss those days. I was a fucking bandit.
If you have no idea who Remy "The Slammer" Artiega is... or Al Isaacs... or Scoops... well, you're in company with roughly half the other people reading this. Don't worry about it.
We'll stop there. I'll post again real soon... or not.
