The Midnight News 07.21.03
Posted By Hyatte on 07.21.03
Letters, Metallica, Where I Can Be Found, Kobe's Got Busy Hands, The Torch Trio, Scherer, Reading Material, A Huge Flame War, The Chairman of the Board, and Sending a Message
It’s all about the big IWF 100
I've had diarrhea all weekend. While sittin' on the crapper, I took a big whiff and was suddenly reminded of your column. As for your IWF 100, I wouldn't want you to get your hopes up only to be severely let down. As such, I leave you with a much more realistic version of your I Wanna Fuck list. For your sake, please consider.
1. Your Right Hand
2. Your Left Hand
3. Your dog
He always writes about how worthless my column is… yet he always reads it… strange.
Shiloh? Lemme guess… Baptist?
Not a bad list, but you forgot some people. Where are Jennifer Garner, Halle Berry, Stacy Keibler, Jessica Simpson and Christy Carlson Romano?
1) Forehead’s too big, 2) Never dug her, 3) eh , 4) Blah… too cliché, 5) Who?
Per your IWF 100 list (or whatever the hell you named it), I don't know what's more disgusting, the fact that you listed around 10-12 porn starlettes, or the fact that I knew every one of them!!!!!
But I have to say, Jennifer Connelly at #39? What in the hell? Look at that face, that chest, that ass, and then go back and watch the infamous ass-to-ass scene from Requiem for a Dream......and tell me if she deserves to be #39. That's downright criminal. She's amazing, and a hell of a lot better than most of the girls you put above her.
Nice job with Chasey at #10, though. Hottest porn star alive (unless she's
actually all cracked out now like you said she is).
And where's Jennifer Tilly? She seems like the kinda girl that would be right
up your alley.
If I used that “ass to ass” scene as a barometer I would have dropped Jennifer from the list and replaced her with “Jennifer’s Body Double in the movie Requiem for a Dream”
Neither of the Tilly girls does it for me.
Hey, Totally with you on the whole Page from For Love or Money thing. She's ridiculous, and she looks like the type you could fuck in the ass, even if she doesn't want you to, and still make you breakfast and be all peppy and lovey and shit in the morning. They just dont make 'em like that much anymore.
Well, she WAS… but now that she’s famous and everybody knows how hot she is… forget it. Her shit officially has stopped stinking
Imagine my surprise when I read through the top 100 IWF list and saw at #50: Florida from Good Times?!?! I'm a bit shocked that neither Thelma nor the next door neighbor Willona made the cut. Also missing from the list are Gorgeous George, Miss Elizabeth and Sensational Sherri. (Don't tell me you wouldn't do Sherri when she was managing Savage) Also, I'm wondering why Joan Severance wasn't in the top 30…you remember how she looked in No Holds Barred. Overall good column and I hope I don't offend you but I'd also like to fuck your ex girls Amy & Melissa.
Joan Severence is an old bat… that’s why.
Amy likes it rough. Melissa likes to be eaten for at least an hour. Have fun
"35) Georgie Makropolis (just to make Scherer’s head explode)"
I sat right by that woman during the '94 McMahon trial. May the Lord have mercy upon thee for putting such an ungodly image in my head.
Yeah, but it really would make Scherer nuts… I’ll just slip three bags over her head (the third one just in case the first two rip) and go to town.
I really don't understand all the fuss about Stephanie McMahon. I mean... look at all the bookers that ever had to book angles during history: Bill Watts. He promoted the third rope rule just to piss off Jushin Liger. Vince Russo. He just loved smut for smut's sake (kinda like you, but that's another matter). Jeremy Borash. He's mini-Russo, bald head and all. Then you have poor lil' Steph... the only Creative Director of Whatever that puts herself overs as a skank... you gotta love her!
No I don’t.
I believe Eric S said it best when it comes to why Stephanie gets dogged all the time: “The WWE puts all their promotional might… spend millions and millions of dollars all for the sole purpose of getting Stephanie McMahon over.”… and it STILL ain’t working.
Plus, it doesn’t help that her fiance has never even come close to dropping the RAW brand’s major title.
This isn’t exactly a comment about the great IWF 100 . Let’s stay on topic, people!
Florida from Goodtimes. What about Big Shirley from What's Happenin', or Weezy from Jefferson's (the early days). Either way just for the Florida Evans reference, you have earned your Brutha Card. At least when you come the the Carolinas you are will be known as a Card Carrying member (or at least you will have a Ghetto Pass).
Bad Azz Yella Boy
Always wanted a Ghetto Pass… all the collard greens I can handle, right?
I'm not particularly fond of where my Mom ended up on the list, but I can't imagine you know her as well as I, so that has to be expected. Only one question: Where was Mae Young?
Mae Young?? Sir, this list is to be taken SERIOUSLY
Jenna Jameson only #20? Jill Kelly only #33? Missy Hyatte ahead of Lisa Boyle? Man, and here I thought you had some taste!
"34) Your Girlfriend"
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Joke's on you, Hyatte! I DON'T HAVE a girlfriend!
Bet you feel pretty stupid now, don't you?
Shut up, you.
My sister’s a lesbian. Do you still want to fuck her?
Depends… she look like Roy Orbison?
I’m Chris and this is the Midnight News. Hello and how are you? Me? Oh I’m doing fine, thank you for asking. Actually, I’m lying… I’m in a rather pissy moody and I’ll guess I’ll tell you about it later.
We have a LOT of stuff to report… I think… not sure yet, quite frankly. What I do know is that there is like, NO wrestling news out there… none… zilch… zip… nada… which works out really well since last week I had almost nothing BUT wrestling news… so this’ll counterbalance everything quite nicely.
In fact… I don’t even have a lead story… oh, wait… sure I do.
HAVING A LITTLE (UN)FAITH IN MTV
Big, BIG congrats goes to Erik Ashley for his big Metallica parody stunt that got so out of hand that CNN, MSN, and even Jimmy Kimmel discussed it. In fact, Rolling Stone may even do a piece on it.
The end result… this stunt brought more people to 411 in one day than ever before… combine the numbers of me, Scooter, and Eric and we wouldn’t even come CLOSE
As a bonus… this sent a ton of people to ScoopThis.com…. which probably means nothing for me since Erik has the old Mop-Ups buried in the top right hand corner… which sort of means they aren’t BURIED exactly, but… well, you know what I mean.
I’m happy for the guy… even if he wasn’t on this site, it’s still a neat thing to pull off. One only wished he had the foresight to do this when Howard Stern was on the air… because Stern would’ve been all over this… and even though Stern sort of sucks now, he still reaches a LOT of people.
Wow… I remember a time when Widro thought that Scooter Keith’s book would bring 411 the attention… yeah… at least Ashley was nice enough to include 411 in on the stunt… all Scooter did was send all 20 people who bought his book right to Don Becker’s miserably boring site. Yeah he really fucking… oh nevermind
Anyway… I was going to do a huge “Across the Boards” thing here but I ran out of time… and Eric insulted me by saying that I am about as important to 411 as I was to ScoopThis… so he instead of the bottom third of the column dedicated to him, he gets the top story and a nice round of applause for a neat trick. Now let’s hope “Unfaith” can make something from this.
He’s at here.
You can read the MTV parody here
And the Metallica “response” here.
You know… it’s really stupid that anyone bought this… it’s like Emeril Lagasse suing “Joe’s Diner” for using salt THEN pepper to season their homefries.
MORE HYATTE THAN YOU CAN HANDLE
In case you were wondering… and if you weren’t, I’m sure you will be… ol’ Flea won’t be around these parts for the time being. He’s going to concentrate on his website for a while.
In addition to FINALLY supplying a home to every Mop-Up I’ve ever written… especially old Scoops columns that haven’t been seen since the 90’s… he’s also given me a brand new place to write a brand new type of column. Audience participation is DEFINITELY required here… and keep the wrestling bullshit away, because I will.
KOBE DIPPIN IN THAT WHITE NASTY
And they tried to sell us on the notion that Kobe Bryant is the next Michael Jordan. HA!
I’ll tell you about Jordan… even with rumors of his gambling problem that was so sick he actually made his NBA comeback specifically because he blew so much of it… even though some people whisper that the reason his old man was found dead on the side of a highway was because Michael owed the wrong people some hard-core booty… even though porn star Kylie Ireland (whiter than Nicole Kidman, yo) ran around saying that Michael’s been plugging her on and off for a while back in the day… even though many critics have called Michael out on his unwillingness to be a positive black role model off the court as well as on… even with all that and much, much more…
The dude knew how to keep things on the DL. He knew how to keep certain members of the press well fed in exchange for privacy. He knew how to control the flow of information released about his personal life. He knew how to use the frightfully clueless Ahmad Rashad as the only reporter allowed to speak with him.
Most importantly… JORDAN KNEW HOW TO KEEP HIS PANTS ON AROUND TROUBLE MAKING WHITE WOMEN!!!!
Kobe Bryant doesn’t… and since we Americans love to convict people before their trial, I can rationally declare Kobe Bryant GUILTY AS SIN!!!!
Michael was as good a playmaker off the court as he was on… couldn’t bet worth a shit, apparently, but he knew how to keep his ass hidden from the cameras.
And let’s not forget, please… this is the same Kobe who was FORCED to marry his (very hot) wife under threats of legal, endorsement threatening action after he knocked her up. Michael knows how to sneak money into hands under the table.
Flea has Kobe’s mugshot. And if you want to see the white girl who is causing Kobe all this shizznit, here ya’ go. She’s the blonde girl lying on her side in front Dig that crazy white ass, yo… that be some SPONGY BOOTY!!! DAAAAMN!!
And wit the Mailman and that other dude (bitch, I ain’t got no time to be rememberin’ these damn names) now playin’ for the Lakers, man, dem homies gonna be straight up BANGIN’ dem boards all the way to the title, B. Ain’t no one gonna take dat trophy home wit dem other than Shaq… see what I’m sayin’? Word.
And Dennis Rodman, who’s fucked EVERY pussy there is to fuck, wants to make a comeback. Bitch got bills, motherfukka…. All that booty means homeboy needs to get PAID again.
Excuse me… I always talk black when I talk about the NBA… ever since Larry Bird retired. A-HEM… *cough… *cough… OKAY… better.
GETTING INSIDE WITH WADE AND JAY!!!
Those ultra-exclusive, extra hardcore INSIDE wrestling’s deepest, darkest secrets, reporters: Wade “Meltzer doesn’t know shit and Scherer lubes his asshole” Keller and Jason “Whatever Wade says I agree with 100%” Powell treated their oh-so lucky “ya gotta buy the newsletter to get this AWESOME, INSIDE service” VIP members to a pair of “OH MY GAWD I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY REPORTED THAT!!!” news e-mails… luckily, because I have more fucking influence than even I can sometimes believe, I got a hold of them…
So, I bet you’re wondering just WHAT Wade’s TOP SECRET, REVEAL THIS TO ANYONE AND WE’LL HAVE YOU KILLED, I COULD GET THROWN IN JAIL FOR THIS SORT OF HOT, HOT, HOT INFO e-mail had to say? Here ya go:
-He announced that Triple H will face Goldberg in at least one upcoming house show. NO WAY!!!
-He reported that Triple H has a leg injury. JESUS CHRIST!!! HOW DID HE KNOW THAT???
-He reported that the whole Smackdown crew is heading to Bangkok for a show or two. STOP… I SAY STOP THOSE MOTHERFUCKING PRESSES!!!! Actually, that IS VIP worthy because no one on the Torch site or in the newsletter – not even Bruce “I am Mojo, I can do ANYTHING” Mitchell – is allowed to use the words “bang” and “kok” in the same sentence.
-He reported that other than Rob Van Dam, the newly “heeled” Kane has NO babyface opponents!! He also wondered how Kane can show up for House show work after burning JR the other week. YES… WHEN YOU ARE A VIP, YOU GET THESE EXCLUSIVE, AND UTTERLY RETARDED QUESTIONS WHERE THE REPORTER PRETENDS TO ASK SERIOUS CONTINUITY QUESTIONS ABOUT A WRESTLING ANGLE!! WADE IS SO INSIDE… HE ASKS THE TOUGH QUESTIONS THAT NEED ASKING!!!!
-He openly wondered if the mysterious “Eric” that Eric Watts is planning to bring to NWA is in fact, Eric Embry!… to which 90% of the Torch VIPs loudly muttered, “who the fuck is Eric Embry and why do I fucking care?”
Meanwhile, Jason Powell brought HIS brand of TRUTH UNCOVERING reporting to you unwashed VIP scum… WHAT news did HE tear the lid off of, hmmm?
-He announced a Triple H/Goldberg Summerslam press conference was coming.
-He announced that the Undertaker missed the Smackdown Asian tour NOT BECAUSE HE’S A SHIFTLESS SCUMBAG LIKE THAT WEASEL HOGAN… but because the UT’s father, or something was sick.
-He announced Smackdown’s ratings for the week. WHAT??? JASON!!! STOP!!! YOU’RE GONNA GET IN SO MUCH TROUBLE!!!!! THIS SORT OF INSIDE REPORTING IS NOT WORTH IT!!!! DAMMIT BOY, THE AUDIENCE DOESN’T DESERVE THIS MUCH INFORMATION!!!!
-He broke the news that a stuntman was set on fire… not JR. No… NO!!! POWELL, YOU MAGNIFICENT BASTARD!!! YOU’RE TOO GOOD TO YOUR AUDIENCE!!
-He revealed the names of the Conquistitors who worked a recent Smackdown… OVW talent. Powell’s gonna burn in hell for this… in HELL
-He revealed that the NWA settled with that guy who screwed them with lousy PPV advertising… oh okay, that was news to me. I admit.
-And a whole bunch of NWA news that no one cares about. Plus, his “can’t live without” REVIEW of the most recent NWA/TNA show! Yes… YES!!! DO YOU SEE… HOW CAN YOU LOSERS LIVE WITHOUT A TORCH NEWSLETTER??? HOW CAN YOU LIVE WITHOUT BEING A VEE… EYE… FUCKING PEE????
I hope Keller realizes how much EASIER his life would be if he just fronted me a free subscription… remember the good ol’days Wade… when I used to talk about how worthwhile a Torch subscription was?
MOJO STAND UP FOR ONE OF HIS OWN!!!
Funny little Torch aside here…
Jay Bower, while he was doing his (very well produced) RantWars “let’s find a new writer” contest, contacted Bruce Mitchell to be a guest judge.
Well, since there ain’t no one in the IWC who doesn’t respond to a little ass kissing… Bruce answered. Paraphrased, his response was:
Sorry, you seem like a nice enough guy, but I can’t write for the same site where that crass Hyatte guy makes jokes about Pat McNeil’s dead mother.
Hey… now wait a minute!!! It’s not MY fault McNeil makes everyone suffer on a weekly basis with those stupid, stupid, STUPID song parodies!(has he done one lately? Have I finally gotten to him? I haven’t checked). I TOLD THE idiot to stop… he didn’t listen.
Besides… what jokes did I make? I only reported that Pat planned on honoring his mother with song parodies dedicated to her. His song listed included: Iron Butterfly’s Innagottadivida, Don McLean’s American Pie, Simon and Garfunkle’s Bridge Over Troubled Water, Alice in Chains’ Man In The Box, and Trent Reznors Starfucker. Like I WASN’T going to report that?
And Bruce… while you are so busy being high & mighty… perhaps I should point out that soon, EVERYONE will get to read the old Mop-Ups from Scoops and will see just who you (and Scooter Keith, but that’s a different story) got his real MOJO from, bitch.
Be nice to me, Brucie baby… or I’ll start talking about all those rumors I’ve been hearing about how you are always leering at the little girls in your classroom… been caught peeking more than once, from what I gather. (Fear MY audience… they are EVERYWHERE)
Of course… it’s all unsubstantiated gossip… bullshit in fact… but it would be fun to speculate.
Pat McNeil is a tool who spends hours and hours doing play by play for fantasy league bullshit wrestling atches on some dumb ass message board, all the whiole claiming to be a licensed, PRACTICING attorney… Mr. Mitchell really should pick his spots a lot better.
DAVED AND CONFUSED
While we are in the motif…
Dave Scherer recently did that silly web guy move of booking his OWN BRILLIANT, CAN’T MISS PLAN TO BRING THE WWE BACK TO GLORY (the only one I know who has actual good ideas when he did these sort of things was Blake Norton… who might have died some time ago, unfortunately). Dave’s fantasy book involved the players from WCW and ECW banding together to feud with the WWE… how fresh.
Anyway, when you do shit like that, you get mail… Byron Turk e-mailed Dave to explain how lame his idea was… Dave responded… a brief flame battle ensued…
I love posting this stuff…
From: Byron H Turk [mailto:email@example.com]
Sent: Thursday, July 17, 2003 3:43 PM
To: 'Dave Scherer'
Subject: RE: WWE Booking Article
A simple plan to turn WWE around explained in multiple installments?
Fantasy booking is unprofessional for someone in your position unless you explicitely say you're doing it for fun. If you took your long winded article and summed it up to "Eric Bischoff and Paul Heyman take RAW", that is better. Everyone can fantasy book, posting your column is just an attempt to trademark those ideas before someone else agrees with you and ruins your claim to the spotlight.
For what it's worth, I think it's an interesting idea, but the column sucks. So does "WECW". Call it something new, WCW and ECW are history.
From: Dave Scherer [mailto:firstname.lastname@example.org]
Sent: Thursday, July 17, 2003 4:05 PM
To: Byron H Turk
Subject: Re: WWE Booking Article
I knew there would be someone who disagreed. Thanks for being him. And, if my column sucks, why do you read it?
From: Byron H Turk [mailto:email@example.com]
Sent: Friday, July 18, 2003 12:38 PM
To: 'Dave Scherer'
Subject: RE: WWE Booking Article
I read the first few paragraphs and skimmed the rest. By the way, it's "why did you read it?", past tense.
From: Dave Scherer [mailto:firstname.lastname@example.org]
Sent: Friday, July 18, 2003 12:57 PM
To: Byron H Turk
Subject: RE: WWE Booking Article
No, you read it. All the time.
From: Byron H Turk [mailto:email@example.com]
Sent: Friday, July 18, 2003 08:14 PM
To: 'Dave Scherer'
Subject: RE: WWE Booking Article
I'm pretty sure I haven't gone back to that column since that first time. I have been to the website since but not that column. Thanks anyways.
I love it when Dave gets pissy and all snotty with the reader. “No, you read it. All the time!” HA!!! Yes, you are all caught in Dave’s web of writing awesomeness and you can’t help but read him over and over!!
And notice… for a guy who gets “over 500 e-mails a day”… he really doesn’t ever take long to respond… less than 20 minutes each time!
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF MRS TRISH HYATTE
Yeah… since all that drama with her and interviews that I summed up last week… she hasn’t been around. You losers have ran her off the web… away from my loving arms.
I wonder what Tammy Sytch is up to?
THE MIDNIGHT NEWS BOOK-OF-THE-TWO-WEEK-CLUB
Flea: Only three writers in the world have ever meant anything, Hi-Betr8.
Hyatte: Oh yeah, which ones?
Flea: Stephen King, George Orwell…
Flea: (takes a long, drawn-out, desperate pull from his bong – followed by a nice, generous sip from his glass) and… whoever.
Hyatte: Who the fuck is whoever?
Flea: When you know, then you’ll know
With the exception of Hooking Up (which served more as an introduction to Tom Wolf than anything else), every book I’ve put here so far has been a full, one plot story by a male writer. So now would be a good time to toss something completely unique into the mix.
As far as I can tell, there are two types of short stories. The first is the one I’m sure most of you are familiar with, so for purposes of recognition, I’ll call them the Stephen King short story (and for the record: quality-wise Skeleton Crew, Everything’s Eventual, Night Shift, and Nightmares and Dreamscapes are the proper order in which to read them). These shorts are exactly what they should be: single plotted tales with a solid beginning, middle, and end.
Then there is the other kind of short story… one that doesn’t seem to have a beginning, or a middle, and barely an end. These are the kind of shorts that appear to be full novels that were butchered and hacked down to their bare essence. The problem with these sorts of stories is that the author seems more intent on writing for his or herself than letting the reader in on whatever point they are trying to make. A good writer knows how to make his or her thoughts accessible to the reader. A bad writer thinks every reader is a friggin’ mind reader.
(incidentally… anyone remember CRZ’s old recaps? Remember those “jokes” he used to tell? Remember how you never laughed or even understood? Remember how his defendcers used to say “well, you have to THINK about his jokes in order to get them”. No you didn’t. CRZ just never bothered to let the reader in on the joke. That’s why CRZ was a good transcriber and a horrible original thinker… still is, in fact.)
This week’s book selection is by a young woman named Kelly Link. Her book is a series of fantasy-esque stories called Stranger Things Happen. I was drawn to it on the recommendation of Salon.com… which really doesn’t mean a hill of bean-shit as far as opinions go… but I liked what they said about the book enough to give it a whirl… since I am always looking to try different writers.
I actually got the book for free by the dude who gave me the best Christmas present ever of 18 books (and thus inspiring this Book club thing), and before I opened it, I read the back cover. The book, and Link herself, had critical blurbs praising her from such big names as Neil Gaiman, Peter Straub, and the New York Times Book Review. I thought I was all set. Plus, there was one of the sweetest, nicest, most charming introductions I’ve ever read at the bottom of the back cover. It says:
These eleven extraordinary stories are quirky, spooky, and smart. They all have happy endings. Every story contains a secret prize. Each story was written especially for you.
Isn’t that cool?
So I read it. And…
I am good and comprehending stories. I’m a smart lad. So when I don’t get what the hell I’m reading, I get pissed. Like I’m an idiot. Like this stuff is above me. Nothing is above my grasp. I refuse to allow it.
And yet… most of the time I had no frickin’ clue what the hell Kelly Link was going on about.
And YET… her style is funky. There’s a neat little way she puts her words together that I enjoyed. In other words, I like her overall presentation, but her basic foundation was muddy and unstable.
Her tales, most of them are modern day fairy tales, run something like this:
-A guy writes a letter to his girl from heaven, hell, or purgatory. He can’t remember her name.
-A guy meets her fiance’s family. Finds out they are all dogs… I think.
-Directions on how to go to hell… maybe
-Girl slowly vanishes… if I’m not mistaken
-Girl is haunted by a naked ghost… or something
-Girl falls in love with an alien… I believe
-and the last story, called “The Girl Detective”… I don’t know what the fuck was going on.
So, no… I didn’t like this book. But maybe YOU will. So here’s an excerpt. It’s from “Travels with the Snow Queen” and it’s about a girl who looking for her boyfriend after he was taken (kidnapped?) by the Snow Queen.
Since picking out something from the middle of Link’s stories that you, the reader, could understand would be an exercise in extreme frustration, I’ll start us off from the beginning of the tale and give you a couple of pages to sample. See what you think:
Part of you is always traveling faster, always traveling ahead. Even when you are moving, it is never fast enough to satisfy that part of you. You enter the walls of the city early in the evening, when the cobblestones are a mottled pink with reflected light, and cold beneath the slap of your bare, bloody feet. You ask the man who is guarding the gate to recommend a place to stay the night, and even as you are falling into a bed at the inn, the bed, which is piled high with quilts and scented with lavender, perhaps alone, perhaps with another traveler, perhaps with the guardsman who has such brown eyes, and a mustache that curled up on either side of his nose like two waxed black laces, even as this guardsman, whose name you didn’t ask calls out a name in his sleep that is not your name, you are dreaming about the road again. When you sleep, you dream about the long white distances that still lie before you. When you wake up, the guardsman is back at his post, and the place between your legs aches pleasantly, your legs sore as if you had continued walking all night in your sleep. While you were sleeping your feet have healed again. You were careful not to kiss the guardsman on the lips, so it doesn’t really count, does it.
Your destination is North. The map that you are using is a mirror. You are always pulling the bits out of your bare feet, the pieces of the map that broke off and fell on the ground as the Snow Queen flew overhead in her sleigh. Where you are, where you are coming from, it is impossible to read a map made of paper. If it were that easy then everyone would be a traveler. You have heard of other travelers whose maps are breadcrumbs, whose maps are stones, whose maps are the four winds, whose maps are yellow bricks laid one after the other. You read your map with your foot, and behind you somewhere there must be another traveler, whose map is the bloody footprint that you are leaving behind you.
There is a map of fine white scars on the soles of your feet that tell you where you have been. When you are pulling the shards of the Snow Queen’s looking-glass out of your feet, you remind yourself, you tell yourself to imagine how it felt when Kay’s eyes, Kay’s heart were pierced by shards of the same mirror. Sometimes it is safer to read maps with your feet.
Ladies. Has it ever occurred to you that fairy tales aren’t easy on the feet?
So this is the story so far. You grew up, you fell in love with the boy next door, Kay, the one with the blue eyes who brought you bird feathers and roses, the one who was so good at puzzles. You thought he loved you – maybe he thought he did, too. His mouth tasted so sweet, it tasted like love, and his fingers were so kind, they pricked like love on your skin, but three years and exactly two days after you moved in with him, you were having drinks out on the patio. You weren’t exactly fighting, and you can’t remember what he had done that had made you so angry, but you threw your glass at him. There was a noise like the sky shattering.
The cuff of his trousers got splashed. There were little fragments of glass everywhere. “Don’t move,” you said. You weren’t wearing shoes.
He raised his hand up to his face. “I think there’s something in my eye,” he said.
His eye was fine, of course, there wasn’t a thing in it, but later that night when he was undressing for bed, there were little bits of glass like grains of sugar, dusting his clothes. When you brushed your hand against his chest, something pricked your finger and left a smear of blood against his heart.
The next day it was snowing and he went out for a pack of cigarettes and never came back. You sat on the patio drinking something warm and alcoholic, with nutmeg in it, and the snow fell on your shoulders. You were wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt; you were pretending that you weren’t cold, and that your lover would be back soon. You put your finger to the ground then stuck it in your mouth. The snow looked like sugar, but it tasted like nothing at all.
The man in the corner store said that he saw your lover get into a long white sleigh. There was a beautiful woman in it, and it was pulled by thirty white geese. “Oh, her,” you said, as if you weren’t surprised. You went home and looked in the wardrobe for that cloak that belonged to your great-grandmother. You were thinking about going after him. You remembered that the cloak was woolen and warm, and a beautiful red – a traveler’s cloak. But when you pulled it out, it smelled like wet dog and the lining was ragged, as if something had chewed on it. It smelled like bad luck: it made you sneeze, and so you put it back. You waited a while longer.
Two months went by, and Kay didn’t come back, and finally you left and locked the door of your house behind you. You were going to travel for love, without shoes, or cloak, or common sense. This is one of the things a woman can do when her lover leaves her. It’s hard on the feet perhaps, but staying at home is hard on the heart, and you weren’t quite ready to give him up yet. You told yourself that the woman in the sleigh must have put a spell on him, and he was probably already missing you. Besides, there are some questions you want to ask him, some true things you want to tell him. This is what you told yourself.
The snow was soft and cool on your feet, and then you found the trail of glass, the map.
After three weeks of hard traveling, you came to the city.
No, really, think about it. Think about the little mermaid, who traded in her tail for love, got two legs and two feet, and every step was like walking on knives, And where did it get her? That’s a rhetorical question, of course. Then there’s the girl who put on the beautiful red dancing shoes. The woodsman had to chop her feet off with an axe.
There are Cinderella’s two stepsisters, who cut off their own toes, and Snow White’s stepmother, who danced to death in red-hot iron slippers. The Goose Girl’s maid got rolled down a hill in a barrel studded with nails. Travel is hard on the single woman. There was this one woman who walked east of the sun and west of the moon, looking for her lover, who had left her because she spilled tallow on his nightshirt. She wore out at least one perfectly good pair of iron shoes before she found him. Take our word for it, he wasn’t worth it. What do you think happened when she forgot to put the fabric softener in the dryer? Laundry is hard, travel is harder. You deserve a vacation, but of course you’re a little wary. You’ve read the fairy tales. We’ve been there, we know.
That’s why we here at Snow Queen Tours have out together a luxurious but affordable package for you, guaranteed to be easy on the feet and on the budget. See the world by goosedrawn sleigh, experience the archetypal forest, the winter wonderland; chat with real live talking animals (please don’t feed them). Our accommodations are three-star: sleep on comfortable, guaranteed pea-free boxspring mattresses; eat meals prepared by world-class chefs. Our tour guides are friendly, knowledgeable, well-traveled, trained by the Snow Queen herself. They know first aid, how to live off the land; they speak three languages fluently.
Special discounts for older sisters, stepsisters, wicked witches, crones, hags, princesses who have kissed frogs without realizing what they were getting into, etc.
She finds her lover… and hardly recognizes him. She meets the Snow Queen… and she turns out to be rather pleasant.
Strange, I found myself enjoying the story more as I was transcribing it here. Maybe I’ll give it another go sometime.
So, if you are in the mood for something really different, and sometimes awfully challenging to understand, but with a nice little style to it. You can try Stranger Things Happen by Kelly Link. The good part is that if you can’t handle it after one or two short stories, you can chuck it and not feel like you cheated yourself out of a full book.
You were going to travel for love, without shoes, or cloak, or common sense.. I was going to do that once… except I was planning on wearing shoes. Then I fucking woke up. Don’t do anything for love, people, you’ll only get hurt.
FINALLY… THE DREAM WAR YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR
Having had enough of audience demand… and finally having had enough of his blatant, pointless ass kissing of Scott Keith… I finally decided to take Scotsman down ONCE AND FOR ALL…
And oddly enough, he wanted to do the same…
Hyatte1com: YOUR DEAD, SCOTSMAN!!! DEAD, DEAD, DEAD!!!!
ScotsmanWU: I might be dead, but I have your REAL NAME fucker.
Hyatte1com: FUCK YOU, SEMEN BURRITO-EATING-DOUCHE!!!
ScotsmanWU: WANT ME TO POST PICTURES OF YOU SWEEPING UP JANITOR BOY? OH WAIT YOU GOT FIRED...AND REPLACED BY A FUCKING NIGGER!! HAHAHAHA! LOL2000BLACKMEN.
Hyatte1com: SHOWS WHAT YOU KNOW!!!! I'M NOT A JANITOR!!! I WASJ DISHES!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA
ScotsmanWU: LOL U CANT TYPE U SAID "WASJ" LMAO
Hyatte1com: YOU UNBORN CHILD WILL BE MY PERSONAL SEMEN TANK!!!
ScotsmanWU: My fiancees too fat even for you!!!
Hyatte1com: I'll fuck her so hard that fat'll sjake right off!!!
ScotsmanWU: Please do. It gross me out!
Hyatte1com: fiancees? SCOTSMAN FEARS APOSTROPHES
Hyatte1com: JAY BOWER TOOK YOU TO SCHOOL!!!!
Hyatte1com: SCOTT KEITH IS YOUR HOMO BOYFRIEND!!!!!!!
ScotsmanWU: IF YOU COME WITHIN 400 SQUARE MILES OF ME, I WILL KNOCK YOUR BLOCK OFF.
Hyatte1com: I'LL PUNCH SCOOTER SO HARD IN THE STOMACH YOU'LL GET A CONCUSSION!!!!
ScotsmanWU: Hey did you hear the one where the girl told Scott Keith to eat her out, and he said "LOL EAT!!! I'M GONNA GO EAT A PIZZA!!!"
ScotsmanWU: KEITHS ABS OF STEEL WILL PROTECT ME
Hyatte1com: I'LL USE HIS BALLS ANS PUNCHING BAGS AND GIVE YOU TWO BLACK EYES IN THE PROCESS
ScotsmanWU: That'll please the people.
ScotsmanWU: Or leave them saying "WTF?"
Hyatte1com: or make them click off the column saying, "fuck this"
Hyatte1com: anyway... good show... have a nice day
There, I am STILL undefeated. And I guess he is too.
Ah, and I asked Scotsman if he would like me to edit out that naughty, horrible word he used and he said no… so if you want to “steal a computer” (his words, not mine) and e-mail him… please do. I do not condone such language
BACK WHEN I WAS FUNNY
This is a Classic Mop-Up moment that I rather enjoyed… plus it holds up well over time. It’s from my ScoopThis days, roughly around three years ago.
I was in the middle of my Nitro recap when… an unexpected visitor arrived….
-The Mamalukes were supposed to take on the Harris Brothers, but the 2 Brians trashed them and hit the ring instead. Let’s see what this match can do to get us goi....
-RING-A-DING DING PALLY!!!
-Oh my Word!! Ladies and Gentleman!! I... I... I can’t believe this. FRANK SINATRA HAS JUST DROPPED BY!!!!! THE FRANK SINATRA!!!! HERE, IN THE MOP-UP
-How are you doing? Hello to all you crazy cats!!
-Mr. Sinatra, aren’t you supposed to be dead?
-Kiddo, when you got a voice like mine and you grew up a skinny wop from Hoboken, death is only a break between gigs. You know what I mean?
-I guess so, sir.
-I can only stay for a few minutes! I’m going to take the MGM to Vegas to catch Deano at the Sands
-Uhh, Frank, Dean is de..
-WhattamI doing now? Covering this match? Where’s Haystacks? Is Haystacks fighting?
-Haystacks is dead, Mr. Sin...
-How about that Queer Sumptuous George? Is he in this ting?
-That’s Gorgeous George and he’s dead too. He died 40 years ago.
-I knew that. Don’t get cute, sonny! I can get some guys to come over here and within 5 minutes I’ll be golfing wit your eyeballs.
-No sir! I mean yes sir!
-My mind is just as sharp as a stiletto heel! Just like Jackie Kennedy used to wear.
-I never saw Jackie wear stilettos?
-You callin' my a liar, Pally?
-Smart kid. My mind is as sharp as a stiletto heel. Just like that fag Janet Reno.
-JANET RENO!!! MY SINATRA, PLEASE!!!!
-Hey, go over there and sit down kid. I ate out broads with more balls than you.
-Yes sir, Mr. Sinatra.
-Watch your mouth, Dago. Or I'll have Jilly use your guts for Ravioli.
-Now just point out the TelePrompTers and let me show you how it’s done.
-It's all yours Mr. Sinatra.
-Let’s see. These two dagos were fighting these two long haired Sallys. Now normally, the Wops would have taken out these Hippie mutts without so much as spilling a drop of Bean, but seeing how this sport is fake, and thereby for scumbag punks who wouldn’t know a good song if it crawled into the tub wit dem and gave a little rub-a-dub dub...
-Umm, at this time I would like to point out that Mr. Sinatra is still firmly rooted in another ERA of time when certain... means of expression were still deemed acceptable in the eyes of society. Or at least, Frank and his cronies were able to get away with it to a certain extent.
-You through chatting away to a silly box, Sonny?
-What is this thing anyway? Does Uncle Miltie come in?
-No sir, it doesn’t.
-Where’s the music? Why am I in this room with no music? *Sinatra begins to bang quite hard on the Monitor*
-What kind of music, Mr. Sinatra? Could you honor us with a song?
-Doobee doobee dooooo, exchanging glances, Strangers in the niiiight, scratching our asses... wandering with a kiiiiite... Ben Franklin romances us NOOOOWWWWWWW
-Umm, Mr. Sinatra?
-SHADDUP YOU PUNK!!!! ONE PHONE CALL AND YOU'LL BE IN A WHEEL CHAIR FASTER THAN ONE OF DEM JERRY CRIPS!!!
-Where is that Spook Sammy? I wanna sing "Me and My Shadow".
-Spook? Mr. Sinatra PLEASE!!!
-SAMMY, ARE YOU LISTENING, PICK THAT COTTON OUT OF YOUR EYE AND GET OVER HERE NOW!!!!! I WANT TO SING "ME AND MY SHADOW!!"
-He's dead Mr. Sinatra!!
-Sammy ain't dead until I say so!!! SAMMY, GET YOUR LAZY ASS OUT OF DAT JEW GRAVE AND GET ME A SPLASH OF JACK!!!
-Oh God... the opinions of Mr. Frank Sinatra do not reflect the....
-"And nowwww... my end is a rear..and so I raped... the final few childrennnnn..."
-Oh GOD!!! OPINIONS OF THE MOP-UP, SCOOPTHIS, OR CHRIS HYATTE...SOMEONE GET HIM OUT OF HERE NOW!!!!!!
-"My depends... I'll state my case... I filled them up... without exemption!!"
-oh this is NOT how I thought it would be
-"I ATE IT UP!!! AND PUKED IT OUUUTTT!! THE CHECKED SHIRTS SHOOOOOOWWW... I DRESSED LIKE A SHMOOOOO...AND RODE THE HERSHEY... HIIIIIIIIIIIGHWAAAAAAAAAAYYYYY"
-Goodbye My Sinatra!!!
-GOODNIGHT ALL YOU SWINGING HIP CATS!!!! VOTE FOR JACK KENNEDY IN NOVEMBER!!!! OR I’LL HAVE YOU KILLED!!
MY THREE STOOGES
Hyatte, I wanted to write you about a subject I know you like to touch on from time to time, that being what a pain CRZ's fiancee is to the folks on the Wienerboard.
A perfect example of this is in this thread…about the fake 411/Scoopthis Metallica article. The thread was bouncing along fairly inoffensively until she popped in with her comment about 8 or 9 down. It just reeked so much of "I was at MTV and I'm cool because I know the MTV news division and blah blah blah." Yay. You know who covered Metallica on MTV news online. I know my nutsack itches sometimes. I figure these two things mean about the same thing to the general public or the board public for that matter.
Yeah… she’s a silly little cunt alright.
See… her name is Kim Stitzel (Jew?)… and she’s smarter than you, me, and every no good too lucky in life celebrity that she has to interview. So please forgive her for her catty little put downs and her constant belittling of harmless wienerboard posters, all of whom worship CRZ for some ridiculous reason. See, life is unfair to her… she shouldn’t be INTERVIEWING the Christina Aguilera of the world… it should be the other way around. SHE should be heralded.
Yeah… too bad about that fat ass, huh sweetness?
And those roots that grow SO FAST and ALWAYS betray that “natural” hair color.
And those manly, thick fingers… damn.
So forgive the girl for sniping away at those hapless souls… she has a LOT of stress on her mind.
Besides, you have no choice here… snap back and POW… CRZ tosses you OFF the board. Last victim was a 17 year old kid named “Maniacal Clown” who’s incurred a Kimmy put down by simply saying he wasn’t a big fan of Metallica… then had the NERVE to say “Thanks Kim, as if I didn’t feel left out enough” after she properly put him in his place! Yes, that was more than enough for Manly Hippie Zimmerman to toss him away!!
What a pair.
I had a bigger story in mind for this… but it turned out not to be as big, so this is what you get.
But since we are talking about girls… how about we wrap thjings up with a monster huge THREE part segment? I’m so good at goofing on OTHER relationships… let’s turn the spotlight on my OWN!
LADIES LOVE COOL HY (part 1)
So, honestly, that IWF 100 thing last week was well received… and a couple of the girls on the list spoke up about it.
This one, for instance, seemed to have gotten the joke:
#74: how have you been? its been awhile since we last chatted - I've been on vacation...
Hyatte1com: ups & downs...
#74: yeah? why so?
Hyatte1com: long story.... encompassing the running drama that has been the last year and a half of my life
#74: well - I'm sorry to hear that...I hope you get it all sorted - stress is very bad....
Hyatte1com: eh... I take it all in stride... and drink a lot
#74: LOL...what do you drink?
Hyatte1com: shot of Jack chased with some Sammy A
#74: woooo too strong for me 'lol
#74: I'm more of beer and wine with the occasional girlie shot lol
Hyatte1com: I can adjust
#74: good to hear
Hyatte1com: Hyatte doesn't like to get smashed in front of a girl until at least the 5th date.... or until copulation
#74: Anna doesn't like to do that either. Dirty men like to looky at Anna's boobs when she's bombed. lol
Hyatte1com: usually, I'm too busy getting THEM smashed... which, of course, helps get that whole "copulation" thing going
#74: oh...you are so bad lol
Things continued for a while… nothing worth talking about. I did point out to her that dirty men are staring at her breasts whether she’s drunk or not, though.
It’s fun to flirt.
LADIES LOVE COOL HY (part 2)
And yet THIS member of my list didn’t quite seem to get it…
#100: Too bad I already have a guy.
Hyatte1com: Like I care
#100: You may not, but I do
Hyatte1com: I’ve seen him… tell him to take a fucking shower and try to use soap… and then he might try shaving… tell him Don Johnson called and said, “Bitch, the 80’s are over.” A haircut would be nice too. Hippies are bad… grubby hippies are beatdown worthy
#100: I like him just the way he is, thank you.
Hyatte1com: Hear that sound? It’s the sound of this topic landing squarely in the “don’t know, don’t care” file
#100: I’m just saying, I’m taken… so I can’t be on your list.
Hyatte1com: Sure you can… and when I go through the other 99 girls, you will be up, kitten.
#100: I don’t think I’ll leave the best thing that’s ever happened to me for you.
Hyatte1com: Okay… I’m going to say this very carefully… if I manage to actually have sex with each and every movie star, porn star, and singer on that list… not to mention the girlfriend and the MOTHER of every reader I have… not to mention my dead mother… and my dead grandmother… and then if I can manage to get my little pee pee all the way into my buttocks for some self-anal… not to mention if I can buiold a time machine and travel BACK IN TIME to get all those actresses from a different time period that I listed…if I can manage ALL THAT… then… and only THEN… will I go to #100… which is YOU
#100: Don’t I get any say in this?
Hyatte1com: Sweetie… if I can pull that off, you will have NO PROBLEM taking me on… if only because you will HAVE TO SEE what can get all those big time stars in the sack.
#100: okay… just as long as you know that I’m spoken for and I never cheat.
Hyatte1com: sigh… fine.
#100: Good… so long as you know where you stand.
She’s really a pretty nice kid too. Just a little… umm…
LADIES DON’T LOVE COOL HY
Yeah… I talk all cool and stuff and act like a playa… but here’s a little truth for you.
A long time ago, I made the decision that I’d be better off alone. It6 was half my choice and half-circumstances… more or less it was me saying, “Hey, you know… I’ve been alone my whole life… I sort of am used to it… and it’s a lot easier on the heart… let’s ride this out and hopefully, I’ll be dead by 40.”
And for the most part, it works. I’m fairly mellow… have rare moments of stress… and get to do what I want when I want. Getting laid is a lot tougher once you reach the far edge of your 20’s, but you deal.
Still… every so often, you wonder if maybe you have something special enough to consider breaking your vow. You begin to… well, hope may be too strong a word, how about imagine? Yeah, you start imagining life on the other side when something comes up.
Well… then SHE has to go away for a while… and you don’t see her. She lets her cell phone number dry out and you never see her online. She goes back to her family during the summer.
You try to keep in touch through e-mail… but she rarely responds and when she does, it’s short… but not rude… it’s just that she’s a shy girl who is uncomfortable communicating her feelings. It’s kind of cute, actually. You get off on watching her open up over time.
So… weeks and weeks pass and I am more or less ready to move on when one day… she pops online. I’m on “away” at the time so when I see her, I immediately hit the “I’m Back” button.
Yeah… as soon as I do that, she logs off. Just checking to see if she’s still on my buddy list.
Yeah… okay, fine. You’re off it now, pun’kin.
Sad thing is… I’m not even mad at her. Not at all. If I have a “soul mate”, it’s probably her. I’m more mad at myself. Mad for allowing myself to imagine. Mad for allowing myself to get affected by someone when a long time ago I swore I wouldn’t ever again.
But the GOOD news is that I wasn’t affected THAT much… that’s the cool thing about having a well-shielded heart it takes a lot more to really get to it.
I’m not closed off to… whatever “love” is forever… I’m just saying it’s gonna take a lot more than what I’ve seen so far to get me to embrace it. And if it never happens… I can live without it and have a LOT of fun in the meantime.
So really… I want to thank her for reminding me of just who I am. Nice thing about being alone is that you don’t have to deal with GAMES!!! You can just walk away.
I’m walking. Catch me if you want… just bring more than a “I’m sorry” with you. Maybe, just maybe I’ll stop and listen.
I am fucking Hyatte.
Now excuse me, I’m going to eat some cheese to go with all this whine
And this’ll be the LAST time I EVER openly discuss this topic.
Next week: Hollywood Gossip, Across the Boards, and maybe that thing I was going to do about Sylvester Stallone… or perhaps a mini-And Another Thing. I am now going to repeat the mantra I started a few lines ago… in order to remind myself that no one screws with my head… they can screw with yours all they want… but I am… I am…
Goddammit… I am fucking Hyatte… I am fucking Hyatte… I am fucking Hyatte… I am fucking Hyatte… I am fucking Hyatte
This is FUCKING HYATTE