Feedback Please. Have I just zoned out for 9 months?

I was inspired to title the blog "Wanted:  Friends, Producers, Rabbis or Dealers," but my first pay check at my current job was not too bad, so that's not Facebook appropriate.

So I got to come up with something to write about.  Out of practice of course, but I haven't kept up on my Netflix and with Facebook being my only societal feed, my anger at human race is fleeting.

I actually think it maybe more directed at individuals.  Is it sad to say that the most recent blog idea was to write about how no promoter should book a particular insecure, pussy-whipped, son of a jobber Pekinite who post racist comment only to follow them by his sharing a "Pro Wrestler Against Bullying" image.  Posting that would be a bit hypocritical and frankly is to easy.

How Easy?  Do you really want the long winded version of that borderline run on sentence.  I also do not want to take the time to redesign the structure of this website to give that carny (meant in the Marigold Festival sense) to properly classify this blog.  I would defeat the ease in writing I was trying to obtain by switching this blog from Go Daddy to Blog Post.

Read the rest of this blog at MainEventoftheDead.com and determine if I am capable of writing/producing a no budget zombie/pro-wrestling movie.

Facebook Should Be the Ultimate Bar, So Know the Rules

DO NOT TALK ABOUT RELIGION OR POLITICS ON FACEBOOK. 

It seems like the idiots I talk about say stupid, borderline hateful shit because they would be considered shunned if they said the hateful adjective that they want to scream out.

I really gotta get back to writing daily.  When the end of the month comes, there are so many twisted ideas that I haven't expressed, it is tough to determine which one gets a month dedicated to it.

There is no excuse for the lack of production.  Or at least, my acceptance of my fleeting existence.  Bukowski, Hemingway, and the greatest female writers thrived because of that.  When are Stephanie Meyer and J.K. Rowling going to off themselves to prove their witches and vampires aren't just fluff?

Then again, I'm not that great a writer.  I could blame that on living in Midwest for my entire life.  It just lacks the insanity of war or delivering mail in East Los Angeles to support a gambling addiction.  Guess I still have my sanity, suppose it's a bad thing.

At least sanity is ironic.  It is a tough to keep one's sanity though when you go onto Facebook and see some of the uneducated, divisive shit people are willing to post

Read the conclusion of this blog at MainEventoftheDead.com and tell me if my opinionated nature can carry over into Pro-Wrestling and Zombie B-Movies. 

We gotta get "Main Event of the Dead" rolling. Need some sense that my efforts can be rewarded.

I hate to make resolutions, but "Main Event of the Dead" has to be completed this year. Of course I need some help, and unfortunately, I cannot count on anyone to deliver except me. Aside from my family, I can only think of three people that have gone to the bat for me. One of them is dead, one got me arrested over a coke head, and the other is a wrestling promoter.


Read the entire blog at http://maineventofthedead.com.

I don't remember drinking requiring so much dedication.

No time to write. No time for exercise. Fuck, I got three weeks of "The Walking Dead" to catch up on.

And I worry about ending up with a first shift job.

The bars, what few are left downtown, aren't much fun on the weekends, unless you got friends to tear it up with (what I hope to come out with from all the late night activity), so waking up in the AM is kind of scary.

Farmington Road, is that where my future intoxicated adventures are to be found? When the only time I left the Dormitory, I was pissy about who I could have mopped the floor with, going anywhere besides the Jukebox, that future seems bleak.

With any luck, the MMA plans will come to fruition. I'll catch on to BJJ and Muy Thai quick enough that I can bust my ass to cut weight for fights, and hopefully old school "Conan: The Barbarian" rewards.

Still, it is just difficult to change your ways without proper motivation. It almost makes me wish that I was two-dimensional fat. No small compliments to inspire you to believe that you are good enough, smart enough, and the rest of that ironic bull shit.

Then again, how many of my fat fuck friends end up with their own families without dropping a single pound? Makes me genuinely believe I'm just unattractive.

Dedication, I guess I got to the point with drinking that I don't think about how shitty my life is when I'm drunk.

Perhaps Russell Claude is back. But I do wonder, should I just spend my booze money on a dating website.

When they guarantee tits in my face, let me know. I got to be true to myself, hence a return to the Dario Argento filmography.

Check out the rest of this blog at "Main Event of the Dead.com and let me know if my satire and movie knowledge should produce a Pro-Wrestling Zombie movie.

Would King Diamond take time off for Grandma?

9/28/11: Would King Diamond take time off for Grandma?

It turns out that Jamaicans do not understand English as well as Filipinos do. I don't like picking on those who do not speak our language, but when you are getting paid to speak it, comprehend it.

Now if I want to walk that stereotype line, the language barrier isn't the issue, it's the relaxed culture. You would hope the Yanks who are reinventing the training program for my lame-duck position would be partaking, but they know that would prevent them from bitching at us because we cannot repair their fuck ups.

They got to go out of their way to treat us better. It is damn near intolerable. We are so understaffed, if I was management, I would have demanded better proof that I need to get out of work to see my dying grandma than a text message. Even the dumbest cell phones have camera phones. If a boss demanded visual evidence, and you provided it to them, they should probably feel so shitty that they will give you a couple of extra bereavement days off.

Check out the rest of this blog at "Main Event of the Dead.com and let me know if my satire and movie knowledge should produce a Pro-Wrestling Zombie movie.

Pay Me, Friend Me, Screw Me. Or I'll Start Hoarding Cats.

I need something awesome to happen in my life. It may only be a situational issue. No way to adjust my schedule to mix things up. Deciding to pay off my bills is severely limiting things. This blog is a response to the monotony of watching movies just to have something to write about.

The problem is that nothing is happening or seemingly can happen. I don't even want to get into the frustration that genuine assholes seem to prosper. Not that they all prosper, but they are the first to let you know if they are. Life can suck, but misery loves company, and damn how I could use that.

At least declawed company. Honestly, the company can have claws as long as they can balance. Eva went and shredded my left hand in a battle for the laptop mouse. It is not like she meant to do it.  I don't think any cat can intentionally do a somersault when falling out of a chair. She definitely didn't mean to. Her claws trying to reach out for me during the fall is an indicator of that.

Check out the rest of the blog at MainEventOfTheDead.com and envision how my movie reviews and satire could develop a zombie pro-wrestling B-Movie comedy.

Wrestling, Ambition, and The Douchebags. My Douchebags.

I need to get a life. The cat demands it. Mom says I should get another job (but she don't like the one she got...oh for when Green Day was still cool), and that may be little Eva's preference, but the fact of the matter is the furball just needs me to leave as frequently as I do during the work week.

Cat Lovers Community dot Com

Whenever I need to leave the apartment, she knows I have to give her the cat treats or she will leave to terrorize the neighborhood. If I'm broke, and stuck with nothing to do outside the apartment walls, she won't be spoiled as much. Brushing and petting aren't enough. The taste buds must be satisfied.

It is either she doesn't like me loitering in her home, or she dislikes pro wrestling. How do I always end up having my life ran by a typical chick?

Wrestlemania X and King of the Ring 1993. It killed three hours, and reminds me why I do not get out of the indie wrestling scene. Most of my ideas always seem directed to the business, and I'm looking for an outlet to express them, and they only inspire me further when I watch the great moments.

Again, it is sweet and sour bullshit. If anyone gave enough of a shit about improving the local wrestling business, I could have the chance to make Downstate mean something. Instead, all Downstate pro wrestling is about amusing friends and pretending to be tough.

Check out the rest of the blog at MainEventOfTheDead.com and envision how my movie reviews and satire could develop a zombie pro-wrestling B-Movie comedy.