The Midnight News 09.20.04

hyatte | September 20, 2004 | Archive | 0 Comments



What is going on at this new site? If there is an InsidePulse it certainly is very weak, barely palpable. We followed the big 3 over here and now what? Eric’s too busy with work, Scooter’s finally found a chick that lets him touch her boobies, and you, what’s your excuse? But, don’t worry, the comics and dolls zones are updated all the time. That’d be great if I wanted to read about that stuff, but alas, I’m growns up and I’m growns all up so I don’t.

Check over at 411 and they’ve got eleventy RAW recaps and columns out the whazzoo. It doesn’t look like they’ve lost anything, in fact they appear to have gained writers. 

The only good thing about the new site is the return of Fleabag’s weekly submissions.

C’mon hyuckster, get with it. We depend on you. When you skip a Monday my day at work feels easily 2 hours longer.


What’s happening is that Widro picked a bad time to get sick of sharing credit… if you want to be honest. Lot of people, myself included, are in transitory phases of our lives. Widro knows this. He also knows we’re working very hard to help him out.

I’ve heard that the most generous thing girls can say about Wade Kellar’s penis is that it’s an “outy.”

Is this true?

Mike O’Brien

‘fraid so

I’m not here to ruin Chris Hyatte and the Midnight News. I’m here to make them better. 

Oh man, get ready. Time for you to get excited about your work again, mofo.



Yer off to a great start, homeboy. 

I know I missed out on the glory days of the IWC, But I’m just curious as to why you show such distain towards LOP. I mean I understand it’s all about hits and who gets heat. But I’m just curious as to why you hate us at LOP so much. Is it because you know you could never cut it on our main page? You might make fun of Dumass, but on Dumass’s worst day he could write a better column then you on your best. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy reading your work. But then again I do think you should be smacked for that bit you did on Dr. Death last week. I mean you went way over the morality line. There should just be somethings that should not be joked on Cancer is one of them. But other then that…I’d love to know why you hate us so much.

No name… but I THINK it’s a Lord of Pain

Yes, I goof on the Lords of Pain because deep down I really, REALLY want to be a Lord of Pain.

Ask the varous women I’ve molested if I’m one already… heh heh heh…. bitches.

Hello BateMasters, I’m Chris and this is the Midnight News Alpha. Wasn’t around last week because… well, I went a WHILE without a full week off…. I was LOOOONG overdue. You know it too. Shut up. How much you payin’ for this again? Damn straight, not dime one.

Whattawe got? Some NEWS? Sure, why not. Some Fun stuff? I think so. Hot babes? One or two. A messy column that’ll feel GROSSLY unsatisfying? well DUH. Shall we begin? As if you have any say in the matter…


What is Sports Spyder? Well, it’s another BEAUTY of an idea from Widro. Click that link at register for the Inside Pulse forums and then you’ll get a PERSONALIZED site where we scour newspapers and magazines from all over the world concerning ANY sports team(s) and/or sports people that you list and front them to you. Right there, just a click away you get all the news on any sports wise that you want. It seems that every time I turn around Widro is doing soemthing new and HARDCORE creative for this “rasslin” site… mark my words, soon these other IWC assholes will be ripping us off with their own “original” ideas like this. I TOTALLY see Scherer doing a “PWInsider Wrestling News Crawler” any day now.

Scumbags… I’m going to personally beat the shit out of all of them. One day. 


Alas, the wrestling word mourns as another promoter has passed onto that great reaalin’ ring in the sk… oops, I mean down under.

But since he was 80, and never showed up on Raw, practically no one reading knows just who the heck Jim Barnett was.

He did some big time promoting for both the WWF and WCW in the 80’s, and was allowed to send notes to Vince McMahon as a consultant since 2002:

Being 80 years old and old school, however, Barnett’s notes went mostly ignored. I called my top WWE source for some samples of Barnette’s suggestions… he’ere what he used to send out to Vince:

Get that Helmsley kid off the air until he paid some dues!

What’s with all these cheescake women? Hire some toothless truck drivin’ gals who could give birth while in the abdominal stretch!

These youngins need to eat more fat and drink more beer! Dick the Bruiser got over on his beer belly! Enough with the pretty boys!

More headlocks damn you!

How come no one chews stogies on air no more?

Bring back Haystacks Calhoun! Now!

And so it goes.

Alas, now Barnette is in Hea… err, the other place. Where all the secrets to life have been revealed. In a MIDNIGHT NEWS EXCLUSIVE… and because Hyatte is… well, I have certain skills that you don’t (sorry), I managed to grab these comments from the recently departed Barnett. What does he now know? What wisdom and advice can he share? You won’t BELEIVE what he had to say!

Satan created the Internet and every time you log on someone’s momma becomes Satan’s sex slave!

Believe it or not, OJ is INNOCENT! 

Rob Feinstein ain’t

A-Train’s back hair ain’t hair… it’s black maggots who secretly rig Presidential elections!

Osama Bin Ladin is actually Tony Orlando with his beard grown out!

There was a clerical error and Sinatra ended up in Heaven.

Owen sends his regards, and advices Bret to get his will all up to date PRONTO!

Andre the Giant has a 3 inch pecker

Patterson is going to be my roomate here!

Neither Lucifer or Christ want to take Russo when he goes.

Satan used to give all of us the night off from being tortured each Wednesday so we could all watch TNA. Then Jarrett quit running it. Now we’re getting tortured again. Fuck you Jarrett!!

Who is Flea and why is Lucifer calling him “My UnHoly Offspring”? 

Any asshole who left with Widro and didn’t stay with Ashish is in for one shitty afterlife.

Scooter can’t write good books.

If Hyatte says yes and hands over his soul, he’s gonna get Stratus. Guaranteed! Trust me. Hey, if you can’t trust a rasslin’ promoter, who can you trust?


I’m in! It’s yours! Now hand that girl over!

Oh like I was going to Heaven anyway… you should’ve SEEN the shit I’ve done over the years!


Move over HHH and Steph, a NEW WWE power couple is about to form a partnership!

Defying odds and rising up to say that yes indeed, pure love CAN bloom among a homoerotic world where men grapple with other men in half naked, sweaty spandex… Charlie Haas and Jacqueline have found TRUE love and will be marrying sometime soon!

Haas is said to be beside himself with delight. He’s a lucky boy. No one blows spots better than Jaqueline! (BA-DUM DUM)

Yes, children… this is FURTHER proof that a union in the business of sports entertainment is possible! Just ask Randy Savage and Miss Elizabe…. err…. okay, just ask Tommy Dreamer and Franci… ahhh….. just ask Chyna and Trip…. hurrrmmm…. OKAY, ask Stone Cold and Debr…. nope…. Dustin Rhodes and Terr…. okay…. Joanie and X-Pa…. fudge…. err…. Missy Hyatt and 80% of the entire business!!!! 


DDP and Ki… guess not.

Anyway, best of luck to them…. stranger things have happened. 

Heh, guess what, I’m FRESH OUT of rasslin’ news! Actually, I have a few more things, but they need work for maximum effect. Sooooo


Top five movies of the week, daddio!!

1) Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow: $16.2 million opening weekend. You know. I… I just want to foul Gwyneth Paltrow. I know, it’s all make-up and scrubbed out, she isn’t all that hot and by God she doesn’t exactly hide her snobbish attitude and she can NEVER convincingly play an unglamourous working class character… but I just want to throw her around and ram something unHoly up her skinny boney white ass… and yank out her hair while doing it. Something tells me that she would hate it at first but, like many great b-movie “Scinemax” near-rape scenes, she would slowly start to get off on it.

Jude Law, on the other hand, I find thoroughly annoying.

I’m curiously indifferent towards Angelina Jolie… go figure.

2) Mr. 3000: $9.2 million opening weekend. Bernie Mac. I dig him. Ever see him in The Original Kings of Comedy? Part of the reason you have to watch his set about 20 times is just to decipher exactly what he is trying to say. Took me 5 tries before I figured out that he was screaming, “BUST A NUT!” 

Any black comic who talks about us crazy, uptight white people is cool with me. 

3) Resident Evil: Apocalypse: $9 million ($37.3 million total) Why – oh – why does Milla Jovavich do practically nothing for me? Why – oh – why do I absolutely refuse to squirt no matter how hard I try to spank it to her in The Fifth Element? Why – oh – why doesn’t she get titty implants. Christ, I know web writers… MALE web writers with bigger bitch titties than her.

4) Wimbledon: $7.7 million opening weekend. Spider-Man can take out ANY snotty Brit with bad teeth! What is Kristen Dunst DOING with that guy!!!

Side note: Props to Jennifer Capriati for a tennis comeback that is only rivaled by Jimmy Conners from 15 years ago! heh, them crazy Williams sisters with the psychotic father ain’t shit… well, they be BUFFED shit, but that’s it!

5) Cellular: $6.8 million ($19.7 million total). A kid runs around town while Kim Basinger keeps him on the phone for hours on end, forcing him to charge his battery. Replace “Kim Basinger” with “Flea” and this movie could be a day in the life of Hyatte. 

In other movie news: Well, he just won’t go away. He refuses. He ignores conventional wisdom that no one can miss him if he doesn’t get out of our face and goes the opposite route. 

Yup, Ben Affleck is apparently going for the record as most annoying celebrity more into being famoius than making watchable movies and doing good work. Not only did he totally whore himself out by showing up wherever the cameras were at the Democratic Convention, but he’ll be hosting the season premiere of Saturday Night Live and is now gracing all the magazine covers as the new boyfriend of big head Jennifer Garner. The man has bombed in every movie he’s been in for the last TWO YEARS, PEOPLE!!!! HE RUINS EVERYTHING HE TOUCHES!!! But he’ll do ALL the talk shows and Enterainment magazines talkking about how he’s going away for a while to dissappear from the spotlight… he’s been saying that for years now…. HE ISN’T LEAVING!!! HE CAN’T!!! HE’S AFFLECK!!!! HE NEEDS THIS!!!

I’ve been screaming about this for years, LONG before it was cool to dis him… NOW people are starting to catch on.

Then again… it’s kind of fun watching him torch his career like this! Carry on, Affleck! STAY IN THE SPOTLIGHT!!! PISS ON THE REMAINS OF YOUR ONCE PROMISING CAREER!! IT’S OVER, BABY!!! 

I… I really don’t like the guy… and I’d like him less if I ever caught wind of the full list of incredible babes he’s scored… we only know a few of them… there has GOT to be more A-List babes on his resume. Alyssa Milano? Probably. Katie Holmes? Oh probably. Your girlfriend? If not, she would in a HEARTBEAT! B’lee dat, playa. 


Flea: Only three writers in the world have ever meant anything, Concen-Tr8
Hyatte: Oh yeah, which ones?
Flea: Stephen King, George Orwell”¦
Hyatte: And?
Flea: (takes a long, drawn-out, desperate pull from his bong — followed by a nice, generous sip from his glass) and”¦ whoever.
Hyatte: Whoever?
Flea: Yep
Hyatte: Who the f*ck is whoever?
Flea: When you know, then you’ll know


Easily, one of the longest lasting literary creations is the (un)natural predator of man – the vampire.

Since Stoker told the tale of Dracula, it seems that damn near every writer of fantasy or horror has used the creature as a main antagonist – or, in Anne Rice’s Lestat’s case – protoganist. From books came movies, then TV series, all featuring vampires in a new way, all exploring the mythos with focus on certain attributes. 

Mostly, writers stick with Stoker’s hard and fast rules concerning vampires: They can’t take sunlight, they must feed on blood, they have super strength, they are essentially evil, or at least extremely self-possessed, they must be invited into a home, they create other vampires by taking their human blood and replacing it with their own, and they can die from wood to the heart, holy water, and crosses on their flesh. Some of the other rules, such as turning into bats or wolves or being able to hypnotize anyone (usually a hot chick) are sometimes ignored. For the sake of the story, or because the writer thought it rather silly, they pick and choose what Stoker originally intended. 

It’s not rare when a writer uses vampires for a comedy, but often times, the comedy is more of a campy value. They are not putting the vampire in a comedic situation, they are making the whole legend of the vampire a joke. This is usually for movies or TV. 

Christopher Moore is a novelist who tells funny stories with an absurd slant, but while his tone is light and humorous, he stays respectful of the characters. He is probably most famous for Lamb, which is his telling of the first thirty years of the life of Jesus Christ, told through Jesus’s best friend, “Biff”. Good book. Go read it. But Lamb doesn’t feature any vampires, Bloodsucking Fiends does. And that is the book I’m using this time out.

Bloodsucking Fiends is Moore’s way of exploring the vampire legend in a fun way. Jody, a woman in San Francisco is attacked at night. Next thing she knows, she wakes us under a dumpster with a bag filled with one hundred thousand dollars on her chest and her arm badly burned because of sun exposure. Once night falls, she goes about figuring out just what happened and exploring her new gifts. Moore plays particularly close attention to the vampire’s heightened senses, and their ability to see auras. He also lets them turn into fog, an ability which plays heavily into the book’s climax. After deciding that she’s going to need help, Jody sets about to find someone to take care of her during the day, the classic vampire watchdog. That’s where Tommy comes into play.

Tommy is a young, naive, sweet but goofy kid just off the bus who has arrived in San Fran in order to become a writer. Upon meeting Jody at his job, (he runs the third shirt stocking crew at a supermarket, a rag-tag bunch of eccentric characters Moore calls “The Animals”, Jody preceeds to pick him up and seduce him into helping her. It doesn’t take Tommy long to fall for her, and Jody to fall for him in return. Officially, the book is called Bloodsucking Fiends: A Love Story, so you know where this is heading.

But Moore keeps Jody’s intentions close to the vest. Is she turning evil? Does she love this good-hearted kid from the sticks? Or is she just using him until she can ffully embraces her new life. Meanwhile, San Francisco police, and one detective in particular, start investigating a string of mysterious deaths that is leading them straight to the couple. 

It’s not the best book I’ve ever read, but it’s a solid page-turner with plenty of fun lines and interesting characters. My one complaint is the presense of a homeless man named “The Emperor”, a self-proclaimed vampire hunter who knows exactly what kind of evil has invaded his city. The homeless man who is a noble warrior at heart is a rather cliched character, and Moore doesn’t do much with him beyond the stock characterization.

The book clocks in at exactly 300 pages. The chapters are quick and easy – nothing to tax yourself over. And it takes a well-worn legend and applies it to the modern world in a pretty unique way. How does a freshly undead vampire go about adjusting to her new life? How does she cope with the fact that no matter where she is, as soon as the sun rises she slips into a dead coma until it sets. Moore focuses on that in a very witty way.

Which leads me to the excerpt for the book. Jody has already met and seduced an all-too-willing (but clueless) Tommy into finding her an apartment with a windowless bedroom. Having been a vampire for only a few days, Jody has gotten a feel for most of her new abilities, but is about to realize that being a vampire has it’s problems. The excerpt for Bloodsucking Fiends is Chapter Fourteen, only a few pages long. Still living in a hotel, she wakes up from her death-sleep in an unusual place, which reminds her that she has no control over her body once the sun comes up. 

She also realizes what happens when a vampire doesn’t feed for a few days. 

Consciousness went off like a flashbulb of pain: a dull ache in her head, sharp daggers in her knees and her chin. Jody was slumped in the shower. The water was still running – had been running on her all day. She crawled out of the shower stall on her hands and knees and pulled towels out of the rack.

She sat on the bathroom floor and dried herself, blotting away the water with rough terry cloth. Her skin felt tender, almost raw. The towels were damp from fourteen hours of steam. The ceiling dripped and the walls ran with condensation. She braced herself against the sink and climbed to her feet, then opened the door and stumbled through the room to the bed.

Be careful what you ask for, she thought. All the regret about waking up a little too alert, coming out of a sleep like a gunshot, came back on her. She hadn’t thought about falling asleep in the same way. She must have been in the shower at sunup, dropped to the shower floor, and stayed there throughout the day.

She sat up on the bed and gently touched her chin. Pain shot up her jaw. She must have hit it on the soap dish when she went out. Her knees were bruised as well.

Bruised? Something was wrong. She jumped to her feet and went to the dresser. She turned on the light and leaned into the mirror, then yelped. Her chin was bruised blue, with a corona of yellow. Her hair was hopelessly tangled and she now had a small bald spot where the water had worn away at her scalp.

She backed away and sat back on the bed, stunned. Something was wrong, seriously wrong, beyond her injuries. It was the light. Why had she turned on the light? The night before she would have been able to see herself in the mirror by the light filtering in under the bathroom door. But it was more than that. It was a tightness in her mouth, pressure, like when she had first gotten braces as a child.

She ran her tongue over her teeth and felt the points breaking through the roof of her mouth just behind her eyeteeth.

She thought, I’m breaking down from lack of… She couldn’t even make herself think it. This will get worse. Much worse.

Now she could feel the hunger, not in her stomach, but in her entire body, as if her veins were going to collapse on themselves. And there was a tension in her muscles, as if piano strings were tightening inside her body, sharpening her movements, making her feel as if she would jump through a window any second.

I’ve got to calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.

She repeated the mantra to herself as she got up and walked to the phone. It seemed to take an incredible effort to push the zero button and wait for the desk clerk to come on.

“Hi, this is room two-ten. is there a guy in the lobby waiting? Yes, that’s him. Would you tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes?”

She put down the phone and went to the bathroom, where she turned off the shower and wiped down the mirror. She looked at herself in the mirror and fought back the urge to burst into tears.

This was a project, she thought. She turned her head and looked at her bald spot. It was small enough that she could cover it with a new part held by a couple of hairpins. Her bruised chin might require some explaining.

She started to run her fingers through her hair to facilitate the preliminary untangle, fighting the tension in her arms that seemed to be increasing every second. A large moth buzzed into the bathroom and went for the light above the mirror. Before she knew what had happened, she snatched it out of the air and ate it.

She started at her reflection and was horrified by the red-haired stranger who had just eaten a moth. Even so, a warmth ran through her like good brandy. The bruise on her chin faded as she watched.

The first thing she saw when she turned the corner at the lobby was Tommy’s grin.

“Good,” he said. “You’re dressed for moving. I like your hair pinned up like that.”

Jody smiled, and stood awkwardly in front of him, thinking she should greet him with a hug, but was afraid to get too close to him. She could smell him and he smelled like food. “You found a place?”

“An incredible loft, south of Market. It’s even furnished.” He seemed as if he would burst with excitement. “I used all the money; I hope that’s okay.”

“Fine,” Jody said. She just wanted to get him alone.

“Get your stuff,” he said. “I want to show it to you.”

Jody nodded. “I’ll be just a minute. Have the desk clerk call a cab.”

She turned to leave. Tommy caught her by the arm. “Hey, are you okay?”

She motioned for him to move within whisper range. “I want you so badly I can hardly stand it.”

She pulled away and ran up the steps to her room. Inside she gathered what few beloingings she had and checked herself in the mirror one last time. She was wearing jeans and the chambray blouse from the night before. She unbuttoned her blouse and did a straightjacket escape from her bra, then buttoned the blouse halfway up. She stuffed the bra into her day pack and locked the room for the last time.

When she returned to the lobby, Tommy was waiting for her by a blue DeSoto cab. He opened the door for her, climbed in, and gave the driver the address.

“You’re going to love it,” he said. “I know you are.”

She moved closer to him and held his arm tightly between her breasts. “I can’t wait,” she said. A tiny voice in her head asked, What are you doing? What are you going to do to him? It was so faint and foreign that it might have come from someone outside on the street.

Tommy pulled away from her and dug into his jeans pocket, coming out with an envelope. “Your check’s in here. I didn’t open it.”

She took it and put it in her day pack, then moved on him again.

He scooted to the door and nodded toward the driver, who was watching them in the rearview mirror. “Forget him,” Jody whispered. She licked Tommy neck and shuddered with the taste and warmth of his flesh.

“I couldn’t get your car out of impound. It has to be the owner.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, nuzzling into the space under his jaw. 

The cab stopped and the driver turned to them. “Six-ten,” he said.

Jody threw a twenty over the seat, reached over Tommy and opened the door, dived out and dragged him out of the cab after her. “Where is it?”

Tommy just had time to point to the door before she pushed him at it. She climbed on his back as he unlocked the door, then bolted past him and dragged him up the steps.

“You’re really excited about this, aren’t you?” he asked.

“It’s great.” She stopped at the fire door at the top of the stairs. “Open it,” she commanded.

Tommy unlocked the door and threw it open. “This is it!”

She went through, catching the front of his shirt and pulling him in.

“Look at all these bookshelves,” he said.

She ripped his shirt off and kissed him hard.

He pulled up for air and said, “The bedroom doesn’t have any windows, just like you wanted.”

“Where?” she demanded.

He pointed to the open door and she pushed him through it. He fell face down on the bare mattress. She flipped him over, hooked her hands into the waist of his jeans and ripped them off him.

“So you ike it?” he asked.

She ripped his shirt open and held him to the bed, one hand on his chest while she took off her own jeans. She climbed on him and muffled his next question with a kiss.

He finally got the message and returned her kiss and tried to match her urgency, then didn’t have to try at all. She pulled away from the kiss as her fangs unsheathed, then guided him into her as he moaned. Jody growled deep in her chest, pushed his head to the side, and bit him on the neck.

“Ouch!” Tommy shouted. She held him down and snarled into his neck.

Dust from the old matress filled the air and was stirred by the movement of their bodies.

“Oh jeeze!” Tommy shouted, digging his fingers into her bottom. Jody answered him with a catlike scream as she came, then fell on his chest and licked the blood that dribbled from the punctures on his neck.

She twitched and shuddered while he repeated, “Oh jeeze,” over and over between gasps. After a few minutes, she rolled off him and lay on the bed feeling the warm nourishment running through her,

Tommy rubbed his neck. “That was great,” he said. “That was incredible. You are -“

Jody rolled over. “Tommy, I have to tell you something.”

You’re beautiful,” he said.

Jody smiled at him. The urgency was gone now and she was feeling guilty. I could have killed him, she thought.

Tommy reached over and touched her lips. “What’s that on your teeth? Did you hurt yourself?”

“It’s blood, Tommy. It’s your blood.”

He felt his neck again, which was completely healed. “My blood?”

“Tommy, I’ve never done anything like that before. “I’ve never been that way before.”

“Me either. It was great!”

“I’m a vampire.”

“That’s okay,” Tommy said. “I knew this girl in High School who gave me a hickey that covered the whole side of my neck.”

“No, Tommy. I’m really a vampire.” She looked at him in the eye and did not smile or look away. She waited.

He said, “Don’t goof on me, okay?”

“Tommy, have you ever seen anyone tear a pair of jeans like that before?”

“That was my animal attraction, right?

Jody got out of bed, went to the bedroom door and closed it, shutting out the light from the living area. “Can you see anything?”

“No,” he said.

“Hold up a number of fingers. Don’t tell me how many.”

He did.

“Three,” Jody said. “Try again.”

He did.


“Jeeze,” he said. “Are you psychic?”

She opened the door. Light spilled in.

“You have an incredible body,” Tommy said.

“Thanks. I need to lose five pounds.”

“Let’s do it again, without our shoes on this time.”

“Tommy, you have to listen to me. This is important. I’m not kidding you. I am a vampire.”

“C’mon, Jody, come over here. I’ll take your shoes off for you.”

Jody looked up at the ceiling. There were open steel beams twenty feet above, “Watch.” She jumped up and grabbed onto a beam and hung. “See?”

“Jeeze,” Tommy said,

“Do you have a book here?”

“In my suitcase.”

“Go get it.”

Be careful. You could fall.”

“Get the book, Tommy.”

Tommy went nto the living area, looking up at her as he walked under. He returned with a volume of Kerouac.

“Now what? Come down from there. You’re making me nervous.”

“Close the door and open the book.”

He closed the door and the room went dark again. Jody read a half page aloud before he opened the door again.

“Jeeze,” he said.

She let go of the beam and dropped to the floor, Tommy backed away from her to the bed and sat down.

“If you want to leave, I’ll understand,” she said.

“When we were making love… you were cold inside.”

“Look, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Tommy’s eyes were wide, “You really are a vampire, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry. I needed help. I need someone.”

“You really are a vampire.” It was a statement this time.

“Yes, Tommy. I am.”

He paused for a second to think, then said, “That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever heard. Let’s do it with our shoes off.”

And so, one of the most unique love stories involving a vampire and a human begins.

Moore injects plenty of funny one-liners in this story, climaxing into a classic stand-off between a small army of humans and Jody’s sire, the Vampire who is older than dirt and completely prepared for any attack. Who is he? Why did he pick this girl? Which member of “The Animals” confronts Tommy and Jody with an offer of his own? What are they going to do with the body in the cooler? How are they going to keep the cops away from them when the body count keeps growing? And what happens when Tommy’s mother pays them a visit?

Christopher Moore puts his spin on the vampire lore and makes it into a breezy, quick read. The chapters are quick and the plot moves along nicely with likeable characters.

Bloodsucking Fiends manages to be a comedy about modern day vampires without being campy. Quite an accomplishment. Give it a read. Then read Lamb, or wait for me to get around to putting it here before you make any decisions. 

My name is Chris Hyatte and I will rape your momma if it’ll MAKE YOU READ!!!


I, for one, am so sick and tired of HHH bashing. Thus, I give you this ongoing gimmick.

Every week, I shall list one good thing Triple H has done that makes him a much better person than YOU, John Q. BoyLover, who has never done anything for anyone”¦ and probably a fan of Ring of Honor too, you PERVERT!!

Triple H Is Better Than You Because”¦ 

He’ll never suggest to Vince to hire Hulk Hogan again for one “last” title run.



I found a few websites, and a lot of you have been GREAT with the submissions. I’m doing okay with movies/TV shit… so if you don’t mind, focus on wrestling. I need wrestling promoes and little quips. Thanks.

This week, as luck would have it, among the offerings I popped in here, I end up paying tribute to one of the most overrated directors to ever foul this earth… he was fat, he was bald, he wore eyeglasses, and he loved long, lingering camera shots that did nothing other than put the audience to sleep… nestled within this week’s offerings, a few choice lines from movies directed by the late, great STANLEY KUBRICK… off we go:

01): What’s your name fat-body? 

Sir, Leonard Lawrence, Sir. 

Lawrence? Lawrence what of Arabia? 

Sir, No, Sir. 

That name sounds like royalty! Are you royalty? 

Sir, No, Sir. 

Do you suck dicks? 

Sir, No, Sir. 

Bullshit. I bet you could suck a golfball through a garden hose. 

Sir, No, Sir. 

I don’t like the name Lawrence, only faggots and sailors are called Lawrence. From now on you’re Gomer Pyle.Full Metal Jacket

I’ll bet you’re the kind of guy that would f*ck a person in the ass and not even have the goddam common courtesy to give him a reach-around. I’ll be watching you.Full Metal Jacket

02): I can’t believe we blew two grand on this when electric rollers could be massaging my buttocks.

Homer! Would stop thinking about your ass!

I tried but I can’tThe Simpsons

03): You see that man with the machine gun sitting in your tree?

Yeah I do.

Well he shouldn’t be standing there between us and the light.

You want me to go out there and tell them to move?

You got a sense of humor, Bob, I like that in a man.

What do you like in a woman?

Big tits.

And they say you’re not sensitive.Real Men 

04): …I like you. I don’t know what it is exactly.

My tits?

No, no, it’s your energy or your attitude or the way you carry yourself or…

Christ, you’re not a fag are you? Because I don’t want to be wasting my time.Being John Malkovich

06): Dad? 


Do you like this hotel? 

Yes. I do. I love it. Don’t you? 

I guess so. 

Good. I want you to like it here. I wish we could stay here forever… and ever… and ever.The Shining

07): You remember when I said how I was gonna explain about life, buddy? Well the thing about life is, it gets weird. People are always talking ya about truth. Everybody always knows what the truth is, like it was toilet paper or somethin’, and they got a supply in the closet. But what you learn, as you get older, is there ain’t no truth. All there is is bullshit, pardon my vulgarity here. Layers of it. One layer of bullshit on top of another. And what you do in life like when you get older is, you pick the layer of bullshit that you prefer and that’s your bullshit, so to speak.Hero the REAL Hero, starring Dustin “THE FUCK” Hoffman, Goddammit… with not a Jap in sight!

08): Why should I love God? He strung up his only son like a side of veal. I shudder to think what he’d do to me.Quills

09): Mr. President, we are rapidly approaching a moment of truth both for ourselves as human beings and for the life of our nation. Now, truth is not always a pleasant thing. But it is necessary now to make a choice, to choose between two admittedly regrettable, but nevertheless… distinguishable… postwar environments: one where you got twenty million people killed, and the other where you got a hundred and fifty million people killed. 

You’re talking about mass murder, General, not war! 

Mr. President, I’m not saying we wouldn’t get our hair mussed. But I do say no more than ten to twenty million killed, tops. Uh, depending on the breaks.Dr. Strangelove

10): It’s all about the bucks, kid. Everything else is just conversation.Wall Street

12): I don’t wanna sound like a queer or nothin’, but I think Depeche Mode is a sweet band!Orgazmo

13): Look at him Smithers, walking around like the cock of the walk. Well, Homer Simpson is the cock of nothing!The Simpsons

14): You do not make perfect sense to me. I’m a hypocrite. I ask for sincerity and I lie. I denounce the system as I embrace it. I want money and power and prestige.
I want ratings and success. I don’t give a damn about you, or the world. That’s the truth. For this I could say I’m sorry, but I won’t. Why should I? I mean, who the hell are you anyway, you… audience! You’re on me every night like a pack of wolves, ’cause you can’t stand facing what you are, and what you’ve made.
Yes the world is a terrible place. Yes, cancer and garbage disposals will kill you. Yes, a war is coming. Yes, the world is shot to hell, and you’re all gonners!
Everything’s screwed up, and you like it that way, don’t you? You’re fascinated by the gory details. You’re mesmerized by your own fear. You revel in floods, car accidents, unstoppable diseases. You’re happiest when others are in pain. That’s where I come in, isn’t it? I’m here to lead you by the hand through the dark forest of your own hatred and anger and humiliation. I’m providing a public service! You’re so scared… you’re like a little child under the covers. You’re afraid of the boogeyman, but you can’t live without him. Your fear, your own lives have become your entertainment! Next month, millions of people are going to be listening to this show, and you have NOTHING TO TALK ABOUT. Marvelous technology is at our disposal, and instead of reaching to new heights, we’re gonna see how far
DOWN. we can go! How deep into the muck we can immerse ourselves. What do you want to talk about? Baseball scores? Your Pet? Orgasms? You’re pathetic. I despise each and every one of you. You have nothing, absolutely nothing. No brains, no power, no hope, no future, no God. The only thing you believe in is me. What are you if you don’t have me? I’m not afraid, see? I come in here every night, I make my point, I state my case, I say what I believe in! I tell you what you are, I have to, I have no choice. You frighten me. I come in here every night, I tear into you, I abuse you, I insult you, and yet you keep coming back for more. What’s wrong with you? why do you keep calling? I don’t want to hear anymore, stop talking! GO AWAY. Bunch of yellow-bellied, spineless, bigotted, quivering, drunken, insomniatic, paranoid, disgusting, perverted, voyeuristic little obscene phone-callers, that’s all you are. Well, to hell with you. I don’t need your fear or your stupidity. You don’t get it, it’s wasted on you. If one person has any idea what I’m talking about… I… Fred, you’re on night talk:

You see Barry, so many people just don’t understand that you’re just joking… 


Barry, I’ve been listening for years, and I find you to be a warm and intellig-


Um, what you’re saying before about loneliness… I’m an electrical engineer… 


Uh, my mother is from Waco, and she wants to know if you went to high schoo-


Why do people INSIST on calling homosexuals norm-


I’m in my house. I’m at home. That’s where you should be, Barry. I’m not far away. You could come over if you want. We’re the same kind of people. I
have beer, soup. I’ll be here. Come over later. I’ll wait.

(hangs up)

(a long moment of dead air)

I guess…. we’re stuck with each other. This is Barry Champlain.Talk Radio

15): George, say three things you like about Louise.

Well George? He asked you to say three things you like about me.

Fine! Your momma died. Your momma’s dead. Your momma ain’t living no more. George Jefferson on The Fresh Prince of Bel Air

HAW!! Dead momma jokes… straight outta the 70’s, on a 90’s show!

Damn, that Will Smith is a GENIUS!!

We done? Eh, just about. Let’s knock ‘er home with one last bit of fun…


1) What do you call a fat (CANADIAN)?

A Chunk

2) What’s six miles long and only goes four miles per hour?

A (CANADIAN) funeral with only one set of jumper cables

3) How do you fit four (CANADIANS) at a crowded bar?

Turn the stool upside down

4) What’s the difference between a (CANADIAN) and a tire?

A tire doesn’t sing when you put the chains on

5) Why do (CANADIANS) smell?

So blind people can hate them too

6) What do you get when you bury a thousand (CANADIANS) up to their necks?


7) Do you know why so many (CANADIANS) were killed in Vietnam?

Because every time the Sergeant yelled, “Get Down!”, they stood up and started dancing.

8) What do you get when you cross an octopus with a (CANADIAN)?

I don’t know, but MAN, can they pick lettuce!

9) Why do (CANADIANS) eat beans every day?

So they can take a bubble bath at night.

10) How do you sink the (CANADIAN) Navy?

Put it in the water.

“Get down”… BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA… love it… LOVE IT!!

Not as much as I love the fact that it’s another column in the CAN! WHOO HOOO!!!

I’ll be around Thursday. And Triple H is going to fill in for Vince McMahon. TRIPLE H! Can you believe that? Me either.

And, other stuff. I have a rough idea of exactly WHAT… but that’s it. Should be a time.

Oh, just call yourself a name and log off… I’m done. 

This is Hyatte