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The Urban Legends of Professional Wrestling

Haven't seen this list posted or talked about before, but it's been around since the early 2000's and thought I would post it here for all to enjoy, None should be taken as fact, But it's amusing all the same, as is the Interview Raven did with Honky Tonk Man where the list is discussed a bit and adds insight . Here's that Link if you're curious https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IyPcTzNMNtI
The Urban Legends of Professional Wrestling!
  1. Kevin Sullivan spends his vacations at a nudist colony. Take that image through the day.
  2. Tommy Rich soaked his balls in a beer mug full of hydrogen peroxide.
  3. Roddy Piper having a young "manservant" type who travels with him wherever he goes, holding his bags, opening doors for him, etc. Piper and others referring to the young boy as "cocksucker" like it's his name.
  4. Tommy Rich did some favors for Jim Barnett in exchange for the NWA World Title.
  5. They had to break Brusier Brody's legs to fit him in a cheap Puerto Rican casket.
  6. Virgil got a job by unleashing his hose on Pat Patterson's desk.
  7. Kerry Von Erich really had his foot amputated because he thought he could walk across a room on his just-surgically repaired foot for a cheeseburger, thus crushing it.
  8. NWA World Champion Gene Kiniski bought Kevin Von Erich a hooker in Las Vegas, when Kevin was TWELVE.
  9. A coked up Kerry and Kevin were once playing with a saw blade in the back hallways at the sportatorium. Kerry saw a cat, so he threw the saw blade at the cat, killing it.
  10. Kerry Von Erich sees a cat in the All Japan lockerroom. He decides to put the iron claw on it, killing the poor kitty.
  11. Steve Lombardi is/was Pat Patterson's secret lover.
  12. R&R Express walk in on Jimmy Valiant laying on the floor jerking off under a glass table that a hooker is shitting on. Ricky throws up and leaves, while Robert stays to watch.
  13. Bruce Hart, was a substitute teacher while a top face/promotebooker in Stampede. He impregnated a 14 year-old student and married her.
  14. Dusty Rhodes got Baby Doll fired (or something) because he was pissed that she married near-jobber Sam Houston instead of him.
  15. According to Japanese tabloids, Giant Baba was bisexual and Genichiro Tenryu had penis enlargement surgery.
  16. Victor Quinones tried to rape Tarzan Boy at gunpoint in a bathroom stall. He DID rape some rookie Japanese wrestler at gunpoint in a bathroom stall.
  17. Chris Champion went to jail for inappropriately touching an underage girl. While he was wearing his Cowabunga the Ninja Turtle costume.
  18. El Dandy's banged both Lita AND Fishman & Lola Gonzales's hot daughter.
  19. Manny Fernandez took a dump in "Number One" Paul Jones brand-new Stetson hat, put it back in the hat box on the airplane, like nothing happened, and went to sit back by Jones for the remainder of the flight.
  20. Dusty Rhodes booked Rick Steiner to beat Ric Flair in 20 seconds at Starrcade 1988.
  21. Superstar Graham once injected Clorox on a dare.
  22. Gangrel & Luna are swingers and love to swap out with other couples.
  23. Paul Boesch was doing a "Jewish Champion" gimmick somewhere (NY?). A writer from a Jewish magazine came to a show to do a profile on him. The writer wandered into the lockerroom after Boesch's match and saw him in the shower. Thus the writer found out Boesch wasn't really Jewish.
  24. Jimmy Snuka killed his girlfriend and played the innocent savage in front of the police while Vince did the talking for him.
  25. Raven got caught in a hotel room with Becky Bayless at age 14, and Becky slept with Joel Gertner and his wife.
  26. Rip Rogers pulled Barry Windham's keys out of a commode filled with shit and Jack Daniels after a particularly hard night of partying with his bare hands.
  27. At a indy show, Sabu had oral sex on one of the valets in the locker room but when one of the other wrestlers asked him if it was good, he said something along the lines of "smell my mustache."
  28. There was this dude called John Arezzi who hosted a radio show and did some promoting. He promoted a AAA tour around the US and insisted on using Woman as a manager for Psicosis, because he used to be in love with her. Konnan was booking Baja California, and since he was friends with Woman (from ECW), he got her to do a small tour around Tijuana, Mexicali... After a Tijuana (I think) show everybody went back to their rooms. The TJ guys just stayed at home, Konnan shared a room with his buddies and Woman had her own room. Very late (in the midnight) somebody started screaming and pounding hard on Konnan's door. He opened the door and it was a half naked Nancy Sullivan whose face was a mess. They let her in and she told them that she got high with Metal and they were about to fuck, but he was so fucking wasted that he couldn't get it up from all the shit he'd been doing all day. So... he started biting her ass realllly hard. She hit him in the face with something to get him off, he then hit her back and she just escaped as soon as she could. At the time Konnan was scared because he didn't want to get on Peña's back side by having an argument with Metal, and he was afraid it would cost him his WCW job if this got to Sullivan. Years later I told him "If Sullivan had found about it, he'd probably have gone down Mexico and cut Metal's balls off". He then said "Not really, he probably beats her up even worse"...
  29. Butch Reed has pissed on the carpet and/or furniture of every motel he's ever stayed in.
  30. Johnny Valentine would take a dump and strategically place it where it couldn't be found easily like the inside of bed posts.
  31. Shawn Michaels supposedly invited three hot girls back to his hotel room. He told them to all get naked and get on their knees. He whips out his ding dong and the girls figure it's going to be a suck-fest, but instead he proceeds to take a piss in each of their mouths.
  32. Bruiser Brody was supposed to do a shoot run-in on the first WrestleMania...
  33. Hogan vs. Zeus was supposed to headline WrestleMania 6.
  34. The Iron Sheik was offered $100K to break Hogan's legs instead of dropping the belt to him.
  35. Apparently after Lawler first arrived in the good old WWF a lot of people disliked him for his general arrogant attitude. Hall, Nash, and Michaels didn't take to this too well, so at one of the Royal Rumbles, Lawler left his crown in the dressing room to do the Rumble. So the Kliq decided to shit in his crown. But apparently this wasn't like a couple of turds in the crown. They apparently filled King's precious crown to the brim with a nice, hearty Kilq shit.
  36. Matt Striker had a 3 way with Mase and Buff E backstage at a JAPW show in 2002
  37. TAKA fucked Sunny while Candido watched.
  38. Scott Hall took a dump in Sunny's lunch on a tour of Germany in the spring of 1996.
  39. Jushin Liger likes to loan out his wife to folks like Sasuke, TAKA, and Hayabusa. He may also like to watch.
  40. Buff Bagwell broke into wrestling by blowing Bert Prentice. Then Ronnie P. Gossett paid to blow Bagwell.
  41. Wolfie D was selling pics of PG-13 with Bill Dundee at USWA shows. Bill wanted a cut of the money. Wolfie said no. Bill pulled out a knife.
  42. Mae Young & Fabulous Moolah are a lesbian couple.
  43. During Eddy Guerrero's indy touinitial cleanup period, Brian Christopher asked him if he wanted to get high at the FWA UK Revival show.
  44. Pedro Morales MAY have pawned his WWWF belt (it showed up in a pawn shop eventually and Tom Burke bought it).
  45. There were constant bisexual orgies in the OMEGA lockerroom.
  46. Lita has been pissed on by Steve Corino and Danny Doring.
  47. Ricky Marvin is rumored to be Negro Casas' bottom.
  48. Perro Aguayo Jr. used to cruise the bars in TJ for barrio looking guys to take to his hotel room.
  49. Mr. Aguila (Essa Rios) & Nygma are/or were lovers.
  50. Simon Dean (Super Nova) enjoys the feel of pudding. Take that for what you will.
  51. Tammy Sytch has phone sex with indy guys.
  52. Mike Rapada paied $25,000 to win the NWA belt.
  53. Apparently, there's a polaroid from the 80s of Ric Flair playing the skin flute.
  54. Either Brian Pillman and Tom Zenk were about to double team Terri Runnels(likely) or they were about to get it on themselves (less likely).
  55. Kevin Von Erich, once paid a hooker to break in a then 11 year old Chris von Erich. Supposedly, Chris even cried during the act.
  56. Curt Hennig was supposedly one of those that shit in Lawler's crown.
  57. During one of those Nitros where the wrestlers had to stay under the ring the entire show, it was at least Hennig and Scott Norton under the ring. Hennig had to go and of course, he couldn't exactly leave. So, he shit under the ring.
  58. Bill Watts pissing out of his tower office at Turner onto the parking lot below.
  59. During the Gold Club investigation, Bischoff admitted that he enjoyed watching his wife and one of the strippers get it on in their hotel room.
  60. Sheik Adnan Al-Kaissey describes seeing Andre screwing - "like a lion raping a rabbit".
  61. Bad News Brown said that Strong Kobayashi liked to cop feels off of his opponents.
  62. According to a referee who was released from the WWF, Bradshaw tied up a wrestler in the shower while he was naked and rubbed baby oil all over him threatening to rape him until he cried while the lockerroom looked on and laughed. I think the victim might have date-raped a girl, or may have just not been well-liked. It was never specified who the victim was other than this happened in like '98 or '99 and the guy was a fairly well known wrestler, I also heard it might have been Brian Christopher aka Grandmaster Sexay.
  63. Some of the Smokey Mountain guys liked to take pisses in hotel ice machines.
  64. Remember when David Flair quit IWA Puerto Rico due to unfit living conditions? And everybody ragged on him when they found out IWA had put him up in a nice house? Well, that nice house belonged to Victor Quiones. I shouldn't have to say anymore, but I will. David was sleeping one night and was woken up by Quiones standing over him about to blow a load on his face. David quit the next day.
  65. But as I recall, Dynamic Dude #2 Johnny Ace and Z-Man Tom Zenk have just returned from an NWA house show in Cincinnati, OH. They're all over each other, when my friend asks them for autographs and a picture. Zenk and Ace collapse into a loving embrace, climaxing with Zenk planting a big fat snog on the cheek of Animal Jr. Then they realize my friend has a camera and just photographed their loving embrace. Zenk stands up and demands the camera. The fan refuses. Ace stands up and orders him to turn over the camera. Again, my friend refuses. The Dynamic Dude and the Z-Man charge at him, he runs. The only proof this incident ever occured is this photo.
  66. Jerry Lawler has a well known foot fetish and he was once caught by a valet (ECW/USWA ringrat Miss Patricia) jacking off into her shoes.
  67. Kerry Von Erich was preparing for a match, getting his gear on and listening to his Walkman, but he was so fucked up he somehow laced the headphone cable into his boot laces.
  68. Macho Man had his way with Stephanie (she was about 14 then) back in 94/95 and that Vince found out and that was the true ending for Macho Man in WWF.
  69. During the 80's when Tommy Rich was to wrestle a show in Parkersburg WV, he decided to skip the show after already taking the money. He was caught stopped by the police and was arrested for having pot on him. They dropped the charges however he isn't allowed back in the country.
  70. Andre The Giant once called Kamala a n****r and Kamala stuck a gun to his face. Andre was nice to Kamala after that.
  71. Randy Savage once knocked Bill Dundee out in a parking lot of a gym in Louisville after Dundee pulled a gun on him. This was back when Randy was running an outlaw promotion and they would tell folks on their TV show the real names of Memphis wrestlers and give out their telephone numbers. And the way I heard the Lawler's crown story is that it was Steve Keirn who started the crap in the crown battle royal.
  72. Lita took off for Mexico in the 90s and bang anyone down there that would "train" her in the ring.
  73. Antonio Pena turned half the AAA lockerroom gay.
  74. Pat Patterson had a special "relationship" with Jacques Rougeau in the 80's.
  75. Bulldog Bob Brower was pretty open about being a card carrying member of the KKK.
  76. Trish Stratus and Lillian Garcia getting to “know each other” really well.
  77. Sabu kicking a bag down some stairs and all around the lockerroom and then opens the bag and a cat comes out. All the while Sabu has a “I love cats” t-shirt or something like that.
  78. New Jack threatened to beat up Gary Yap’s girlfriend.
  79. The Kliq and some of the other WWF wrestlers making the Eliminators dress out in the hall instead of the locker room.
  80. Jushin Liger has one of the worst acne/pock marked faces you’ll ever see.
  81. The Iron Shiek used to do headstands while snorting coke.
  82. Bull Pain isn’t afraid to introduce a flashlight to a girl.
  83. Bison Smith changing in the WWE lockerroom and HHH sat down by him, stared at him the entire time he changed, not saying a word.
  84. Paul Heyman's firing from WCW had to allegedly do with embezellment of funds. The example being that he would have two sets of bills for road expenses thus, I believe, overcharging WCW.
  85. Davey Boy asked Dynamite Kid about steroids, and Dynamite gave Davey was he seemingly thought would be his first injection of steroids...only thing was Dynamite put milk in the syringe.
  86. Ricky was well known for hitting the nose candy before interviews, hence the rapid-fire unintelligable promos he gave. Word is it that he took a severe toot before going to sign autographs at an indie show. While signing an autograph for a kid, he sneezed and then said , "Goddammit. There went about $500."
  87. At least 4 people in ECW killed someone.
  88. The Rottens stole from the ECW locker room.
  89. Taz did show his penis to the teen at the tanning place. He did that to the females in ECW too.
  90. Bradshaw allegedly gets in the shower with new guys and soaps them up. Supposedly he was doing this kind of shit to Paul London a lot.
  91. Paul Heyman used to get blowjobs behind the ECW parking lot at 3am while writing checks to a line of a few wrestlers.
  92. Stephanie McMahon has a strap-on & has used it on Austin, HHH & Chyna.
  93. El Dandy was caught by Fishman when he was banging his daughter (I think she was a minor), and he no-showed several shows where the two were booked together because Fish threatened to kick his ass. When heat died down, El Dandy repaid him by also fucking his wife.
  94. This has been dismissed as fake, but one anonymous wrestler claimed years ago in a long letter posted in message boards how Dr. Alfonso Morales used to have coke orgies with underage males and his "pornstar wife" (apparently his wife was a major star in 70s pseudo-erotic movies).
  95. Xochitl Hamada and Negro Casas were rumoured to be about to marry when she caught him very late at the Arena Mexico showers in a very tender act with one of his male trainees.
  96. 5'1" Super Astro is now a nicely married family man, but in the 80s he was "famous" because of his willingness to insert his astral wang on tall (5'11" or more) women.
  97. During one of AAA's long tours in the mid 90s, fatboy commentator Arturo Rivera was anally deflowered by Jerry Estrada.
  98. In both AAA and CMLL, Estrada has been known to make a lot of "side money" by running a drug little business of his.
  99. More Estrada! He's the Mexican Jimmy Snuka. He didn't wrestle in Tijuana for years (and I haven't checked but maybe he still doesn't even work there) after getting into trouble for throwing a rat off a hotel room's balcony.
  100. El Salsero also had trouble in TJ, I believe after trying to rape a girl, so he moved to Monterrey and invested some of his money in a shoes shop. The first thing he did after opening was going shop to shop, threatening to kill all of the local competition owners if they didn't close their shops.
  101. Midget wrestler Pentagoncito (original) is in jail for raping a little girl (around 14) with his mask on. He still claims he didn't do it, and that it may have been a kid her age wearing a mask like his'.
  102. Mexican version of the Victor Quiñonez sports car of love. Pierroth gave a really great new model sports car to AAA wrestler Estrellita, but he took it back after he learned she was fucking Latin Lover as well. Well, and half of the AAA locker room.
  103. AAA's Vatos Locos used to carry coke through the US border hidden in pendants and necklaces with secret compartments.
  104. If you go to Mexico City's club "Solo para hombres", for a reasonable price you can fuck most of your favourite CMLL ring girls.
  105. Apolo Dantes' uncle old time wrestler Septiembre Negro has a shit fetish.
  106. Simply Luscious was dating one of the guys down at the TWA camp back before anyone knew anything about her, and the guy broke up with her. So, she drove to his house and started beating on the door, threatening to kick his ass. This somehow ended with a car chase down an interstate with a loaded gun being carried by the guy.
  107. Luscious and Paul London apparantly had a little fling that London ended up breaking off before heading for his stint in Florida, training and working for Dory Funk Jr...the thing is, Luscious, jealous as hell, decided she was going to follow him there, and ended up starting to hang out around the BANG school (I forget if she actually trained there or not, though they found out she was a wrestler and started using her for a short while). They ended up being booked on opposite ends of a mixed-gender tag, and London "took his frustrations" out on SL during the match.
  108. Steve Corino might have once had an affair with a female Zero-One office worker that had a pregnancy scare involved.
  109. Johnny Valentine put lighter fluid in Jay Yorks inhaler.
  110. Owen Hart never drank, so Bret spiked his drink with halcion so he got totally wasted and passed out.
  111. Bill DeMott did a shit on Bagwell's face while Buff was sleeping.
  112. Gino Hernandez WAS a major coke user, and also a dealer...of course, he's been clean for 18 years.
  113. Killer Khan stole a homeless man's hooch, and threatened to give him a Mongolian chop.
  114. Masa Saito & Ken Patera broke some windows at a McDonald's after hours when they refused them service.
  115. A few months after David passed away in early 1984, referee David Manning, who worked in the World Class office, was autographing David VE 8x10 pictures with David's name on them and they were still selling them throughout the year - all of this at the command of Fritz.
  116. CW Anderson told a story of him, Corino, and Spanky getting drunk/high in a hotel room in Japan. They met two chicks, and followed them back to their hotel rooms. The chicks kept saying "Zero 1 wrestlers." When they got back to the 2 girls rooms, the girls tied all 3 up, pulled down their pants, spanked their asses with a cat of nine tails, and then poured hot candle wax on Spanky's ass.
  117. At a hotel with Sandman once, he went out on the balcony, dropped his pants and yelled "2 Cold Scorpio ain't got shit on me."
  118. New Jack said when he worked for XPW he use to go to a warehouse of sorts for Extreme Associates and Rob Black would pay him in hundreds of porn DVDs.
  119. Negro Casas owns Olimpico's ass. Literally.
  120. Negro Casas tried to own Ultimatum's ass till he jumped to AAA and became Skitzofrenia, later Electro Shock.
  121. Septiembre Negro loves to be shit on.
  122. Nino De La Calle was no gimmick. Pena found him at the age of 14 and let him be a wrestler in exchange for... well you guys can figure it out.
  123. Mascara Sagrada Jr. told Pena he was done having sex with him. He's yet to be on AAA TV since and rarely gets any special bookings.
  124. Zach Gowen and CZW star Z-Barr Doubleteamed some hoe on June 4th after an NWA FL show in St. Petersburg. Z-Barr then proceeded to run around naked.
  125. Homicide punched a fire extinguisher at the same hotel, shattering glass and causing him to miss the show the next day and the ROH show after that. I believe he was intoxicated, because he kept hollering "That damn thing owed me money" after he punched it. He was eventually taken to the hospital and was stitched up.
  126. New Jack intentionally shoved Grimes towards the outside of the ring in XPW. He wanted revenge for blinding Jack in one eye in ECW.
  127. Ron Killings and BG James weren't flown into Nashville for TNA because they couldn't bring their weed on the planes. So they drove in just so they could smoke. Of course they had to get local hook-ups once they started taping IMPACT and were required to fly.
  128. The guy in the clown wig Monty Brown pounced on Xplosion three weeks ago. I saw him personally sell some "stuff" to a very strung out Larry Z. three months ago at the Fairgrounds out of the back of an mid-90s model Chevy Blazer.
  129. Jerry Lynn is a nice guy, but has a special tote bag for pills. Lots and lots of pills. Same for Sabu and Simon Diamond. Sabu's wife told us he can't even walk in the morning without a half hour of motivation. Diamond's back is so f'ed that after each match in TNA he lays on the concrete for twenty minutes to "ease the pain." Concrete. So hell, who can blame them?
  130. Raven didn't wear clothes backstage at TNA until someone complained to prevent Dixie from seeing his horsec*ck.
  131. Bert Prentice has done "man things" with one of the Naturals.
  132. Chris Harris went over to Bob Ryder's apartment early this year (February or March?) and jacked off for Bob. But that had to stop when a beefy, ecstasy addicted Abyss moved in with Bob.
  133. This past summer David Young brought his girlfriend to a show early in the day and got her hooked up to be the "ring girl" to return gimmicks (robes, vests, etc.) to the back as the match started. THEN his wife and kids show up so he tells the girlfriend to "play it cool." BTW, his real job? He's a bouncer for a gay bar in Atlanta.
  134. Around March-April, several TNA guys started wrestling for gay videos. They weren't told they were in gay videos and wrestled in regular ring gear. BUT the matches weren't in front of a crowd, they were in front a "green screen" where they were told fans would be "super-imposed" later. They were told they would be sold in Germany I believe. Anyway, I didn't believe this at first but Elix Skipper, Sonny Siaki, and David Young all confirmed it. I laughed when they all said Bert Prentice got them the booking.
  135. When Dusty Rhodes first came to TNA I found out that a lot of boys HATE him. I couldn't understand why but apparently a few years ago he promoted a show and handed everyone empty envelopes after the show. When the asked him when they were getting paid he just said, "Well when I finalize all of the numbers I'll mail you a check." Then he jumped in the truck and left before the main event was over. Apparently one TNA wrestler wrestled nearly twenty shows w/o being paid believing Dusty would actually pay him.
  136. Ryder was living high on the hog in WCW. He bought a $300k boat, a small plane, and a two million dollar house in Louisiana. Well when that shit hit the fan in 2001, he started to lose all of his stuff or mortgage it to the hilt. So once that ran out what did he do? He started ripping off Joey Styles of course. He was handling the accounting and stiffing the staff (Dave, Buck, etc.) and not paying bills on time (bandwidth, etc.). Well out of the blue some collection agent calls Joey for a bill. He doesn't have a clue. He finally gets the accounting from Bill and he realizes that everything and everyone is more than two months behind. Why? Ryder had an addiction. Pills? Of course not. Hardcore drugs? No way. His weakness? Male prostitutes. Lots of them. I've heard from multiple sources that he spent over $40,000 on man sex inside of two months. Needless to say, he's working off debt to Joey now. Which explains why every one of the paid staffers went to PWI. This also explains why the news is painfully slow on 1W now. Free labor only gets you so much. So after that Ryder decided to make himself irreplacable (sp?) to TNA. He wanted to carve a niche for himself that really would have pushed someone else out. He wanted to become the "Jim Ross of TNA" and serve as a talent agent. This would of course put him in direct competition with NWA President, "Ninja" Bill Behrens (also very gay, by the way). So anyway, he couldn't afford the man-whores so why not make new ones under the guise of giving them "their big break" in the wrestling business.
  137. James Storm is an asshole. A week into the business he was stretching newer guys and telling them to pay their dues. But that is different now. He cries a lot. If he doesn't like a match, he cries backstage afterward. I'm not making this up. He's just really sensitive now. Odd. But his partner, Chris Harris is now at the very least bi-sexual thanks to Bob. Right before Harris got the big singles push he went to hang out with Bob. One thing led to another and they were both jerking the meat whistle. Magically they both got bumped from $500 / week to $1,500 / week. First, can you believe anyone pays them that? I mean, anyone but TNA? But how great does Storm come out in this? He doesn't whack off for anyone but still gets the good pay days.
  138. When Missy Hyatt was sixteen when she met Tommy Rich. She was a virgin, even orally, but jumped at the chance to blow him. So he took her to the show and she blew him on the way. She didn't swallow so he used a towel. He told her to keep it as a souveniur (sp?). She laughed but didn't keep it. Once they got to the arena he asked her to come in for a minute. She met Larry and went down to Larry Land for a meal that night too. She must've been hungry for the business.
  139. Joel Gertner went to college at Cornell U., of all places. His parents busted his ass for him to go to school there. He majored in TV production and worked at a TV affiliate in Ithaca while he was trying to break into the biz. With a couple of semesters left from getting an Ivy League diploma, he dropped out of school to follow his dream.
  140. There was a rumor floating around RSPW a few years back about Tully Blanchard, JJ Dillon and Maxx Payne gangbanging Dark Journey backstage at the Slamboree Legend's Reunion in... I wanna say 92
  141. Victor Quinones slipped Shocker a mickey. Shocker feels sickly and goes to sleep. Shocker wakes up with lil' Shocker in Victor's mouth or about to be there.
  142. Rita Chatterton who was the WWF's first female referee alleged that she was raped by Vince McMahon in the back seat of his limousine. Chauffeur Jim Stuart corroborated Chatterton's account and filed a lawsuit of his own, alleging that, during his WWF employment, he had been forced into witnessing the commission of crimes. The cases were either dismissed for lack of evidence or settled out of court.
  143. Norman Smiley once knocked out Rick Steiner with one punch in a bar fight.
  144. New Jack once got liquored-up at a strip club after an indy show and talked shit to Swede Hanson in the parking lot.
  145. Sunny and Candido had a 3 way with Jake Roberts for some of his crack.
  146. A married Kurt Angle was banging Jacqueline on the road for some time.
  147. Jeep Swenson used to pimp out his wife to the boys backstage.
  148. The Freebirds had a habit of initiating new wrestlers by pissing on them while they showered.
  149. Andre the Giant had a habit of shitting in hotel bath tub's.
  150. I hear CM Punk started banging BJ Whitmer's wife while she was still married to BJ. I hear this happened while Punk was (and still is) dating TNA's Tracy Brooks. She, by the way, is hotter in person.
  151. I know this belongs in another thread, but I have more info on Bobby Eaton. He's not the great guy everyone was talking about in the other thread. He's a legit alcoholic who allowed booze to ruin his career and family.
  152. Balls Mahoney is also a satanist. James Mitchell is an atheist like Raven and CW Anderson but not a satanist. He thinks everyone is wrong.
  153. The 3PW Promoter Jasmin St. Claire once had sex with 400 men in a day! Shocker!
  154. Heyman didn't pay ECW boys for well over a month as the company was dying. He wasn't even at the shows. He bought himself time by saying telling everyone to be patient because he was out in California working on securing a new TV deal for ECW. He was actually spending the money hiring an agent, filming Rollberball, and spending money buying drinks and suites for Hollywood types with the boys' pay. Of course everyone knows he never told the boys the company was dead. They just saw him on RAW and figured it out.
  155. NWA President and NWA Wildside Owner Bill Behrens has a fetish for young looking boys and black muscles. Ever notice Wildside has more black wrestlers than most other feds? I mean c'mon, it's Georgia and he has an almost 50% black locker room. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Hmm... Well let's just say that's not because he enjoys their "work." Wait, on second thought maybe he does.
  156. When Chris Adams was wrestling in Portland during 1982 and 1983, he had his then wife Jeannie Clark (Lady Blossom) along with him. Billy Jack Haynes boinked Jeannie during that time period.
  157. I saw Sabu attack a fan outside a show in Buffalo. Sabu arrived at the arena, via his dilapidated camper, in his ring gear and was accosted by a fan who claimed to know him. Sabu, in a hurry to get inside, just hauled off and decked the kid before running in the front door.
  158. I also saw the Grimm Twins assault a fan in Albany who was doing nothing more than rib. One of them just hauled off and slapped the heck out of him before Faarooq ran from the ring and started kicking the crap out of him (legit) when the other Grimm attacked Faarooq, Scorpio ran out and they all brawled to the back - I think turning it from a shoot to a work as agents had come out w/Scorpio.
  159. Also, I heard about the Iron Sheik being notorious in WCW for not wanting to job. He thought being a former WWF champ meant something so he refused to put either man over until management showed him footage of Vader breaking Joe Thurman's back (an admitted accident). Sheik turned into the world's biggest ass-kisser after that.
  160. The Sinister Minister supposedly stole Joel Gertner's wife.
  161. When they were all in the UWF, Slater was dating Dark Journey. She hooked up with Sting behind Slater's back, but Slater found out about it and threatened to kill Sting. So Slater shows up in the locker room looking for Sting and finds him putting on his facepaint. Slater gives him a pretty good beat down because Sting doesn't fight back, knowing that he deserved it and didn't want to screw up his reputation by making any more trouble with Slater. After Slater finished with him, Sting got up, put on his facepaint, covering up the cuts and bruises, and went out and wrestled. Slater was fired from the UWF the next day.
  162. There's also a greaet story Missy tells about the time she was dating Jake Roberts back in the day. Apparently, Jake had this weird thing where he liked to go to bars with Missy, but have her go in and sit at the bar by herself until some guy started hitting on her. Then, Jake would be watching from outside and come in and stare down the guy talking to Missy until the guy got up and walked away.
  163. There's another story (this is sad that I remember all of these) about a time when Missy and Eddie Gilbert were having relationship problems, so she'd moved into her own apartment. She started dating Bill Fralic (thanks to Jim Ross hooking them up), but Eddie found out. One day he comes over to her place ready to go after whatever guy he found in Missy's bed. In the process, he knocks over a grill on the patio of the apartment that he thought was Missy's. When he finally gets into the apartment, Fralic is really cool with him and ends up giving Eddie a ride back to his place. As Eddie is apologizing for barging in, he says he's sorry about the grill. Fralic and Missy say, it's not ours. From the patio comes a voice, "It's mine!" The voice of the grill owner belonged to none other than Buff Bagwell.
  164. Akira Hokuta and Kensuke Sasaki kept the whole hotel awake from so much LOVE NOISE~! when they first hooked up at one of those WCW/NJ deals.
  165. Chris Candido and Tammy Sytch just showed up at the January 2004 MLW tapings in Florida. They weren't booked and just showed up trying to secure future bookings. Well that night (early AM) they ran up and down the floor Court had rented for the boys knocking on every door. Then they started on different floors when they went looking for ice. The kicker: they wearing absolutely nothing. Well Tammy was wearing a sheet when she remembered to pull it up. She's not a big advocate of shaving apparently. Chris was as naked as the day is long. Not very long at all in his case. The hotel tried to evict everyone because of this but Court got them to settle down.
  166. Mickey J was at those same tapings. It's twenty minutes until show time and neither of the referees have shown up. Then with five minutes to go before the show starts Mickey J walks in off the street in his gear. He was two hours late and just walked right in off the street in the ref shirt. He stopped by the bar and bought two shots before hopping in the ring. He didn't greet anyone (including Court) or go over finishes. He just hopped in the ring and looked at the ring announcer long enough to say, "Hey tell someone to tell you the finish so you can tell me." He assumed he would do the first match and then go backstage to rest for the second match and get the finishes then. Needless to say, the other ref never showed and Mickey didn't leave the ring for over three hours. He got the finishes during the match from the announcer and worked the entire show.
  167. Arn Anderson passed out in a bar in Georgia around 1995. He was in a circular booth with a beer in his hand when he passed out. The funny thing is that even passed out he held the beer in his hand only slightly tilted never allowing a drop to hit the floor. When security came to take him outside they woke him up and he pissed all over himself before calling them "cocksuckers."
  168. At those January MLW tapings a few of the boys and regular every day citizens got wet when water balloons fell five stories upon them. The culprit liked to disguise his voice as a bird when he did it. But his voice sounds like a bass CD rumbling it's so deep. The culprit: Low Ki!
  169. I don't know if this is true..but Supposedly Koji Kanemoto has been seen with many young boys. Liger recently cut a promo and mentioned the gay part, referring to the junior babyface group as "Kanemoto and his army of gays." I guess the jury is still out on the underage boys thing. All I can say is after reading 20 pages of sleaze here...I wouldn't doubt its validity too much, seems like anything is possible.
  170. Manny Fernandez was once booked on an indy card featuring some of Ivan Koloff's trainees, despite Ivan's protests. Manny was a serious power drinker. Manny is booked in the main event as a "mystery opponent", but the promoter pulls Manny when he shows up lit the fuck up. The promoter then books Manny as the curtain jerker against one of Ivan's newer trainees and also refuses to pay Manny his full gate. Manny threatens to kill the promoter when the show is over. Ivan does not think that Manny is bluffing. Bell time comes around and it takes Manny 10 min to get to the ring. During the match, Manny beats the hell out of Ivan's trainee and shouts "I'm gonna kill you" at the promoter, who is sitting at the timekeeper's table. The trainee is mercifully murdered at the 5 min mark after a horrific squash (which the fans pop for) & is stretchered out legit from the ring. Manny rants until he is escorted from the ring by several refs and security. Ivan escorts his trainee to the ambulance and returns with hatred in his eyes. As Manny sees the promoter backstage and lunges for him, Ivan meets him with a right cross, knocks Fernandez cold, and shakes loose three of Manny's porcelain crowns.
  171. Italian Stallion held raffles for door prizes at his PWF events. No one won because the raffles were rigged. One of Stallion's friends, trainees not working the card, or family members always seemed to have the winning ticket. Everyone but Stallion's wife (now ex-wife I think) seemed to know that the reason Mad Maxine kept the PWF Ladies Title was because she was fucking Stallion. Stallion's wife was pretty hot and pretty well proportioned, while Maxine was sorta normal looking in the face, but weighed a shade over 270 lbs.
  172. Harvey Whippleman was booked at some local Indy in Evansville while he was working for WWF back in like 99ish to ref a match. He came out at the beginning of the show to start the night's angle that set-up his reffing of the match between the promoter and the champ. When they went backstage, Harvey demanded DOUBLE the pay for the night since he "had to work twice, and the only reason all these people are here is because MY NAME is on the card". The promoter said fuck it and gave it to him just to keep him happy. A week later, the promoter got a cease and desist order from the WWF because Harvey told Vince that one of the wrestlers at the show used WWF music.
  173. Scott Casey retired from wrestling to become a gigolo in Vegas and there have been rumors that he has been a client for both men & women.
  174. Sid Vicious used to take a squirrel with him everywhere he went for some stupid reason and one day a couple of the wrestlers bet him he couldn't keep the squirrel down his pants for a minute. Sid accepted and after about 30 seconds the squirrel bit him in the dick and Sid dropped on the floor in pain crushing the squirrel in the process. He had to get rabies shots and stiches on his dick.
  175. Austin got pissed off at Raven one time in the locker room because earlier in the day Debra (who was his wife then) was cutting a promo near the showers when Raven came out of the showers wearing nothing but a towel. Austin hears this and confronts Raven because he thought that Raven was "showing off" in front of his wife (Raven supposedly has a big dick) and basically choked Raven while threatening him verbally until Raven told him that he didn't know that she was there. Austin then apologized and Raven understood because the wrestlers knew at that time that Austin was VERY protective of Debra then.
  176. Collette Foley would negotiate with Vince to get more money if Mick took certain bumps & other abuse.
  177. Towel Boy Eric Tuttle gave Tommy Dreamer to get into ECW.
submitted by Warbotter to SquaredCircle

That was Taos when I knew it. Your friends robbed you and talked bad about you when it didn’t work out for them.

Cheo and my mom helped me get my truck back after the incident in Santa Fe a couple years before that when the crack dealer took it and never returned it. They also helped me get a place on the side of the highway north of town toward Arroyo Seco. It was an old office building we rented from Cheo’s friend, who apparently had money and property but terrible hygiene and the propensity to make awkward and perverted statements at the worst times. He stank but he was a nice guy and let me rent the place for $600 a month.
Someone shared the news about Bobo’s DEATH with me. MY FRIEND Becky was nowhere to be found. The hoodlums at the park and plaza all had different faces and names. DVDs of “Where the Buffalo Roam” and “Young Guns” entertained me on a cruddy laptop someone gave me, until I got a job washing dishes at a restaurant called Ogelvie’s. I called my father bored and depressed with nothing to say and choked back cries for help he couldn’t give me. He thought I was sober. My parents sounded very happy about how well I was doing.
I bought a copy of “Hell’s Angels” by Hunter S. Thompson, and like so many drug addicts, I idolized him. My father had given me a typewriter like Thompson’s before I left New Orleans. It was my most prized physical possession. Thompson had inspired me by getting published as a journalist who placed himself amid the dangerous Hell’s Angels for his book. In similarly dangerous fashion, I wanted to document a group of Mexicans crossing the border illegally but decided the potential of being baked to death in the back of an 18-wheeler was not worth getting published. Besides, I couldn’t finish reading “Hell’s Angels” once drugs came around, much less organize and document an illegal trip across the border from Mexico. The mental stability and concentration necessary for that kind of thing simply did not exist in my life.
They say the books you read, movies you watch and people you hang with form WHO you become. It was true. A fascination with Billy the Kid, Gonzo journalism and doing drugs while living in the New Mexican desert had heavy influence on how my life would play out over the next few months. Besides, Taos is a crazy place.
There was a 16-year-old runaway from Florida who held a cardboard sign at the light on the north side of town. He hooked me up with meth. We called him Tweaker Bird. I met my boss, Thad, who also had connections for meth and cocaine. We laid flagstone during the day, and at night, I washed dishes at Ogelvie’s. A guy named Timmy and his dog came to live with me around then. I had a few other friends who smoked weed and usually met them at the Plaza Caffe, which was supposed to be a place for hippies, but we chased paying customers away with our body odor and grease-caked pores and blew hits of weed at their kids. We badmouthed the owners for selling out and never bought more than a cup of black coffee with refills. One day, my new friend Travis came to find me at Caffe Tazza.
He needed a ride for his uncle. I had no problem giving his uncle a ride, but Travis didn’t have an uncle, at least not in Taos. We all knew that.
“Sure, I have to be back to work at Ogelvies for four.”
“Cool. He’s back at Geoff’s. We have to get something out of his car.”
Minutes later my blue S10 idled in the shade of Geoff’s gravel driveway. It was my beautiful blue truck once again (until I forgot to put antifreeze in the radiator. Then it was an immovable eyesore that the grass grew around in the front yard of Cheo’s house on Montoya. The death of that truck marked the death of my alleged eight-month stint of sobriety. It was more like four months, and I smoked crack and meth the whole time.)
“Bob’s 73 years old and from Woodstock. He showed up earlier this week and flipped his car down a ravine two nights ago. The highway patrol said he flipped it at least six times and walked back up himself. A real miracle. He had to throw his stash and scale before he could walk back up.” I pretended not to notice that Bob was not Travis’ uncle at 73 years old. “We just have to help him get something out of his car, in Questa.”
Before my hand came off the horn, an old man busted through the screen door with a bob and swing in his walk, an exaggerated limp. The racket of the door creaking open and clacking shut mixed into his belligerent squawking. There was no one except us, but he made accusations. He muttered curse words under his breath like he was spitting in disgust and climbed into the passenger seat. Travis squeezed between us.
“Fcking imbeciles! I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. Just a pile of horse sht!” Over time, I would learn that this was his default. Ninety-five percent of the time, he was this way, unless you had some coke or heroin.
“I know. I know,” Travis replied. “I talked to Geoff about it. He said he didn’t know anything about it and blamed it on Christine. I don’t believe it, though.”
Some drama I wasn’t privy to, but I found out later that BOB’s dog was missing. It was one of two times Geoff and his girlfriend, Christine, had stolen and traded the old man’s pure-bred Pekinese for a bag of cocaine to Edward, a diabetic drug dealer in a dirty double-wide on the south side of town. He was unusually sweaty. His face looked like he was sucking a lemon, and the only hair he had was a werewolf patch on his right shoulder. Deep-pitted boils of brown covered his skin from his bald head to the stained waistband of his shorts. His shirt was always off. His health was always terrible, and he was always sweating.
(Once after Edward moved to the north side of town, I saw him getting wheeled into the emergency room. I spent a lot of time at the hospital back then, and since I knew he was going to be checked in for a while, my friend and I burglarized his house. It was blatant and my S10 ran out of gas a quarter mile down the highway. Besides the safe, with some silver dollars and a couple OF ounces of high-grade weed in it, the only thing I got was rinses out of his dirty heroin cookers. That was the main reason I broke in. We walked up to the Conoco and put gas with the silver dollars into a milk jug. His neighbors saw us do it, but Taos is a land of outlaws, and cops are rarely called.
Eventually the old man’s dog got eaten by coyotes in the sage brush behind my house after he moved in with me. The old man had bad luck.)
“Bob, this is Riley. Riley, this is Bob.”
“The Indomitable Buffalo, they can’t keep me down! Buffalo Bob Cass! Pleased to meet you!” His tone and attitude completely changed. It was a show he put on; after all he was an entertainer in Woodstock, where he lived before and used to do drugs with the bass player of The Band. He stood in for Levon Helm when he was sick, because they were both singers/drummers. Levon couldn’t stand Buffalo, though. He thought Bob was a piece of garbage.
We passed a pipe full of green hash and coughed, crammed in the tiny cab. Bob coughed hardest. He was 73 after all, but when he coughed a weird sound came out of his chest, like a marble rattling in a can of soup, probably from the wreck in the ravine. Travis looked at me horrified. Bob acted like he didn’t hear it and took every hit he could. On his move to Taos, he had stayed in a hotel in Iowa where the toilet broke in half while he sat on it. The water damage was so severe that they wanted him to go to jail. Somehow, he lost his U-haul trailer with everything he owned because of it.
As we finally got out of town, whatever heroin Travis and Bob did before they found me mixed with the hash to soften the lines in their faces. Their mouths hung open and their chins were on their chests. The silence of sublime sleep filled the cab, but for the hum of fifth gear. To the left a vast expanse of desert territory summoned my imagination. They said Taos was still the wild, wild West, so I listened for the busting caps of antique six shooters and the thud of arrows through the necks of cowboys, shot from the bare backs of painted horses. Somewhere in the distant dust was the war cry of dark men with long hair and a caravan of covered wagons burning. It was faint, but I could hear it before the road dropped into Hondo and back up toward Colorado.
Funny how people are when they ask you for something, especially junkies. Bob wasn’t Travis’ uncle. He made it sound like his car was down the street or worst-case scenario in Ranchos, but not 20 miles away in a different town. There was almost no way I’d be back by 4. Travis nor Bob had any clue where his car was, not a number to call, not the name of a junkyard, nothing. It may not have even been in Questa, and I bet anything that whatever they wanted out of the car wasn’t in it anyway. But that’s how it goes for a junkie in Taos.
At a gas station we pondered what to do. Bob didn’t have any ideas. Travis was busy smoking heroin in the bathroom, and there are untold junkyards in Questa. Bob and I sat in the truck and smoked cigarettes waiting for Travis.
“Why don’t you go in and see what’s taking him?” It had been over 20 minutes, and when I walked into the gas station Travis was on an office chair behind the counter. His face was green and body doubled over. He held his gut with his hands.
Before I got back out the door an ambulance pulled up. They loaded him onto the gurney and into the back. It was a bad case of gas as far as I could tell, from his diet of pure sugar and the irregular bowel movements of an opiate addict. A gloved hand grabbed a tube of lubricant and a rubber tube in the window of the ambulance before they pulled away. I shook my head and walked back to the S10.
“Well? What the hell is taking so long?”
“Ambulance came and took him. He looked like his gut was in a knot.”
“Ambulance? Really?” The truck was 15 feet away while they loaded Travis into the back, but somehow Bob had missed it. “Are you sure? I guess he won’t be coming back with us then.”
“No. No, he won’t. Probably what he ate gave him a stomach ache.”
“What did he have?”
“A giant moon pie and a bunch of orange soda.”
“Well, no sht! What did he think was going to happen? Eating like that! Fcking imbecile!”
Bob got silent and turned away as if he forgot what he said. He looked out of the passenger window, pensive and still, pondering some deep truth about life. Dark clouds gathered over the horizon, and the aura of heroin and his tiny pupils were peaceful. His long grey hair barely touched the collar of his leather coat. It was proof of the wisdom only 73 years of life can give.
The crinkle of cellophane broke the silence in the truck. He pushed it back before his dentures ripped a chunk of moon pie into his mouth. The gold handle of his cane rested on a 64-ounce fountain drink between his legs.
“F*cking imbeciles, I tell ya! I’ve never seen anything like it in all my life. Well, let’s get going.”
I started writing about Bob as soon as he moved in. My plans were for a book. The first line went,
“The heartache. The headache. The stink of watery, green feces sprayed on the walls and puddled on my landlord’s carpet.” The carpet was new when I moved in. Brand new, and Bob ruined it. On top of my plans for a book about Bob, I had dreams of being a poet at that time of my life. It took me years to realize I hated poetry.
Bob began to detox in a bad way. It was the beginning of a dramatic and obscenity-laden affair of about two months. He kept a welcome mat on the floor next to his bed, and I picked it up out of curiosity one day. Underneath were at least nine black rectangles where cigarettes had burned from end to end on the carpet, but the mat was also completely caked with green poop. Between the toilet and his bed, the green trail proved he was not well. There was a spray of lime green on the wall by the door.
Bob was a self-proclaimed junkie through and through. He knew it. He told so many stories of all the dope he had done and where he did it and how good it was and who he did it with. Those days were gone though, and 73 is not so kind to a junkie.
We were all dying like him. It was only more obvious that he was on his way out. Dead men and dead women walking, we looked for life in death, because staring death in the face was the only time we felt alive. Everywhere we went, our environments changed to match the death inside of us, but we lied about it to ourselves and to everyone else. None of us believed it, but we lied about and pretended this was what we wanted.
We did meth and heroin and smoked cigarettes in his room, dubbed the shooting gallery. Bob needed a medical detox, but he had a habit of saying he was going in and not doing it. I dropped him off before a six-hour shift at Ogelvie’s one morning. When I came back to the house, I went into his room to find information on how to visit him at the facility, but he was sitting in his bed smoking a cigarette.
“How’d you get out of detox? Or did you ever go?”
“They kicked me out.”
“They kicked you out? Why?”
“Too much trouble. They said they weren’t prepared for me. Too much shtting. Too much runny nose. Said they didn’t expect me to be shtting all over the place like that.”
On another morning I opened my eyes to see him sliding his thermal underwear over his foot. It was the first thing I saw, and the fabric got caught on his big toe nail.
“Come on, you fcking btch!” He screamed at his underwear and pulled harder. He ripped the big toe nail out of his foot.
Bob had become my main focus in life. He and I laughed till we cried at night in his room. We told each other stories about our lives growing up, but besides him, I had relationships with other people. The majority of my friends claimed to be spiritual in one way or another. Everyone in Taos does, but since I knew these people, I assumed it was a symptom of their mental illness, which caused them to think joblessness, drug use, refuting science and bad hygiene placed them on higher moral ground than the rest of the world.
There were a few different girls who came around, one named Luanne. Some people tell you they are bipolar, and others you find vacuuming your living room at 4 a.m., dancing to dubstep and smoking a bowl of weed, but you know that they don’t do meth. Luanne was that kind of bipolar, and she spent the night with me sometimes. We were good friends.
I saw another girl who panhandled change in the parking lots during the days and had my mother’s name. She was beautiful in a weathered kind of way like some old mama you find at the pound, worn and scarred by the world but beautiful because of it. Bob referred to my women affectionately as “that f*cking whore.”
My friend Timmy and his dog were the sanest of anyone living at my house. He only smoked a little heroin and meth and frowned when I locked myself in my room for days watching pornography on Luanne’s computer. I smoked cigarettes at the living room table, sweating in my underwear, and jabbered at him about my plans to start a mobile pet crematorium or the mystery of repeated nucleotide sequences in DNA with no discernable purpose. Timmy nodded in agreement to anything I said. He knew better than to disagree with me.
Anytime we went somewhere Bob told strangers of the abuse he suffered at my house. It was humiliating and largely untrue, but one hipster kid bought Bob’s line and sneered at me for my inhumanity. He would take Bob to his house in Tres Piedras and care for the old man as any decent human would. The guy made a big show of how altruistic (one of Bob’s favorite words) he was and what a disgrace I was. Travis and I laughed so hard that we had to put our hands on our knees to keep from falling on our faces.
The next morning, I found the two in the hipster’s Nissan in the parking lot behind Tazza. Bob sat in the passenger seat with an unlit Native 100 between his lips and acted excited to see me, too excited, like he needed something, like things weren’t working out with the hipster.
“Hey, Riley! I’m so happy to see you!”
“Hmm . . . Are you now, Bob?”
“Oh yeah! Extremely.” He turned to the hipster in the driver’s seat. “Hey, you! Where in the f*ck is my phone?”
“I don’t know where in the f*ck your phone is! It’s your phone! Why don’t you keep track of it?” I agreed with the kid. It wasn’t his responsibility, and they yelled some more before the old man came back to my place.
Bob got healthier while he lived with me, and my heroin habit grew. He put on weight and got his bodily functions under control for the most part. After two months it was time for him to leave, and he had a place rented in El Prado. I packed his stuff into the back of my truck, and for some reason he called me a, “fcking piece of sht! You know that? A real piece of sh*t!”
After all I did for him, I had it. I had only ever touched him with care and concern. All the times he went to the hospital, I visited him. When he came back from a CT scan, I patted his head and held his hand. At night before he slept, I washed and rubbed those two petrified pieces of mahogany he called feet and lathered them with tiger balm, but now I had him by the collar, my fist cocked back behind my head, and bit my lip. “Oh what? You’re gonna hit a sick old man, are you? Bet you feel real tough! Don’t you, boy? You’re real tough, now!” I threw his boots into the back of my truck and took him to his new place. My back tires sprayed him with muddy snow and gravel as I tore back out of his driveway.
My manager at Ogelvie’s asked me about him a week after he moved out.
“He said he thought he was bothering you a little bit or something.”
“A little bit?” We both laughed.
Bob came in on a Saturday afternoon to watch his Iowa football team play Ohio. Tiffany, my manager, said he kept walking around the place “grabbing himself.” She called me to come watch him, and in case things got crazy I could take him away.
Ogelvie’s fired me for acting goofy when I came out of the bathroom at work. I wore sunglasses to wash dishes and had a weird film that collected in the corners of my mouth while I obnoxiously ranted at customers. A week after that I defaulted on rent at my place. When my landlord came to see me, we talked for 30 minutes in the cold next to a shattered front window while addicts lurked around inside. He was nice about telling me I had to go, but when he left, I found a loaded syringe behind my ear. The weather had already cracked the engine block in my S10.
This is when my parents found out I wasn’t sober anymore and I had to move out. I called them for money. There was no real reason to tell them about the dope, except I thought I might try getting sober and figured telling them didn’t matter if I did. My mom talked to me. She told my dad later.
The summer after fifth grade I started cleaning horse stalls for my dad. He paid me $5 for four hours of work every day and $20 the next summer. By the time I was 13, I had $1,000 bucks in my sock drawer and spent it all in a few months on weed. My father and mother did so much for me in life. They taught me such good things. Here I was again to tell them I had thrown everything away.
Before I moved out, Bob called me to tell me he had broken his hip and that he was staying in the old folks’ home by the hospital. We hadn’t talked since the day I almost punched him, so I went to visit him.
“Yah! Fell on the ice on the road up to my house coming back from the movie store.”
“What did you rent?”
“I don’t know! Some flick about a hit man. Whatever it was, it wasn’t worth shattering my hip. That was it, though, when I fell. I couldn’t do anything, and it was getting dark. The neighbors drove around me and up to the house to watch the news! Can you believe that? Drove right around me lying on the ground! I could have died!”
I smiled. It seemed hard to believe, but unbelievably bad things always happened to him. Now he graced the nursing staff of the geriatric ward with his red faced, foul- mouthed, screaming accusations. They caught him rolling around in his wheelchair smoking weed in the hallways. He liked to pretend the pictures on the wall were fine art. When he didn’t get what he wanted from the staff, he messed himself and rolled up to the nurse’s station and demanded they take care of it.
“Well, I’m glad you’re not dead, Bob. I missed you.”
“Missed you, too, Riley. Missed you too. How’s that piece of sht? What’s his name? Timmy? Can’t stand that mother fcker. When is he going to get where he can take care of himself? I mean. He’s only 38.” Timmy and Bob never liked each other. Neither of them seemed to like anyone else for that matter.
“I don’t know where he’s going to go. I don’t know where I’ll go for that matter.”
“What do you mean? Are you getting thrown out?”
“Yeah. I decided to buy some coke last month while the rent money was in my pocket. You know how it goes.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I do. Ha ha. F*cked yourself, didn’t you?” He showed his dentures with a smile.
“Yup.”
“Well, I won’t be home for a while. At least another month. You can stay there and help me out when I get back home.”
“Awesome! Thank you!”
“Just one thing, Riley.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Leave Timmy wherever the fck you found him in the first place. The last thing I need or want is his sorry a* at my place. Lousy piece of sh*t.” Before I left, I told Bob I loved him. It was something I told people back then, but to me love only meant that I wouldn’t rip you off unless I had a good reason and the cigarette I bummed you last month entitled me to half of everything you owned for the rest of my life.”
There were a few days of wandering in the cold and staying at Thad’s house. I moved into his house a few days after Thad stabbed me in the face with an umbrella over a handful of Xanax I stole from my friend’s leukemic landlord. Despite all that I had going against me in terms of reputation and appearance in town, the black scabs on my face embarrassed me, because they made me look less than sophisticated. Looking sophisticated was the least of my worries, and while Bob was in the hospital, my new friend Johnny and I tied my mattress to the hood of his car to move me and Tim and Tim’s dog into Bob’s new place.
Johnny and I used to tear through Taos in his white Lincoln Town Car with two other kids while I projectile vomited out of the passenger window. Both of those kids are dead now. One jumped from a cliff escaping imaginary and malevolent figures. The other overdosed and got left in his car at the ER one night. They found him dead in the morning.
Other times Johnny and I hung out with an older nurse who hated me until we shot cocaine together. Then she stripped down and danced and sang for me while Johnny and I laughed at her. She never noticed that I wasn’t into it, but that didn’t matter. She was into herself. It was common to watch her mix way too much cocaine with way too much heroin in the same shot, and 10 minutes later she bragged about how she only ate granola because Fruity Pebbles were so unhealthy. She told us about a house she had in Ranchos that was haunted by a patch of red paint that bled through multiple new coats over several years. Eventually she had a dream set in the same bedroom in which details were disclosed about a 19th-century abortion involving a teenage girl and a priest. I tried to contact her about the story, but she’s dead too.
Bob ran Tim and his dog off as soon as he got home from the hospital, and fell in a pile of his own feces soon after that. In an episode of dementia, he had gotten mad at me about not giving some syringes to Johnny and yelled for help all night long after he fell. I let him sit in it until the morning, even though I couldn’t sleep for his yelling. It was a heinous thing to do. Heinous was what I had become. He struggled to breathe for several days before we took him to the hospital, and it turned out one of four broken ribs had punctured his lung. His lung had been collapsing. He snuck his IV out of the hospital when they released him, but when he pulled it out at the house, his blood was black sawdust.
Sometimes I banged out reams of nonsense on my electric typewriter like a maniac firing a machine gun. Sometimes I decided that the world was ending and that I would die soon. There was no point in writing, then. Sometimes I stayed in bed and watched the squares of white sunlight slide slowly across the floor and up the wall until I couldn’t take it anymore and had to get up to figure something out. Sometimes I yelled at my dog from all the stress Bob caused me.
I forgot I had a dog, until now, but I probably wouldn’t have told you about him anyway. My career as a dog owner was a disgrace, and I thought if you hated me any more than you already do, you might stop reading. Not that my neglect of the old man two paragraphs before this one shouldn’t make you hate me enough to stop reading, but these days people seem to value animal life more than human. Let me tell you about my dog. He was a good dog.
It was Thad who brought him to my place after finding him in the KTAO parking lot some months earlier, and he was mostly heeler, what we called a Taos Cattle Dog. We named him Serio, in part because he seemed serious and in part because Sirius is the dog star. It fit well, and he understood me perfectly. He would leave at eight in the morning and return at night. He could sit, stay, lie down, get on the bed, get off the bed and anything else I asked him to do. He never went to the bathroom in the house except this time I screamed at him in my bedroom, and he pooped on my bed. It was clearly intentional and made me laugh because I deserved it.
When I moved from my old place to Bob’s, I overdosed on anxiety meds and left Serio outside of Smith’s grocery store. It took me several days to realize that he was missing, and when I did, an empty leash tied to the railing at Smith’s was the only thing I found. Serio showed up at Bob’s the next morning, even though he had never been there. It was an amazing feat and endeared me to him more than ever.
Now, I can’t remember if these last few paragraphs are about my dog or the electric typewriter my dad gave me. Either way, they were both destined for doom like everything else I cared about. My typewriter slid slowly off my bed even though I could have stopped it. I was too depressed to move. The impact shifted the keys, and it never worked again. Another local drug addict took Serio from me. Of course, he was better than I was and accused me of neglecting the dog but shot him for killing one of his chickens a week later. Such was my life and all I touched.
“Everything the warning labels on prescriptions say not to do is everything you want to do!” Bob laughed with his dentures out, like he was channeling my old friend Bobo. With tears in his eyes, he told me of entertaining back when he was Buffalo Bob Cass and made crowds swoon. He told me that every time he died from an overdose and went to heaven some “Abe Lincoln looking mother f*cker” sent him back saying he had to come in the front. That he couldn’t come in the back door.
Buffalo said he once woke up in a refrigerated room under a sheet of plastic. His clothes sat in a bag on his feet and he had a toe tag. He got dressed and found dope hidden in his waistband. The whole hospital was frantically searching for his missing body, while he snorted drugs in a bathroom stall. His friends already had all his stuff and were squatting in his apartment when he walked up. A soothsayer in Woodstock told him this was his last incarnation and that he was paying the price for the evil of his past lives. These were the stories he told me.
One day he watched our friend’s girlfriend open his window and hang her belly over the sill before she slid onto the floor. The lights were off and she supposed he was gone, but Bob watched the whole thing from his bed a few feet away. She came for the flat screen. Bob slapped her in the head with his cane and used his walker to escort her to the front door. That was Taos when I knew it. Your friends robbed you and talked bad about you when it didn’t work out for them. Bob sent me to the bank to pull 40 bucks out of the ATM and get some cocaine one night, but I took $300 out of his account and never came back. The year’s last snow had still not melted.
I slept at the homeless shelter after that. My friends all lived there, too, and walked the parking lots with me during the day asking for change. When we injected cocaine in the vacant lot behind Albertson’s, they all hated me for abandoning them, gnawing my cigarette or licking kerosene from my lips as I walked away. A cop stopped me panhandling once and took me to jail on a warrant for an old ticket I never paid when Serio got loose. I spent 12 days in jail. It should have been one night. The afternoon I got out, I used a lint ball out of my sock to filter a shot of heroin and got cotton fever. An ambulance picked me up at the homeless shelter. I puked and screamed. My head throbbed. The ER tried to kick me out at 4 a.m., but I cried in the waiting room until they let me back in to sleep.
When the weather got warmer, I slept in a burned-out trailer or the bushes behind an auto parts store. My sleeping bag stank of chemicals and rotten eggs. I left my bag and clothes in the bushes during the day. It was my camp, but one day someone defecated on all of my stuff. Whether it was malicious or not, I didn’t have time to wonder, because I had to find a new place to sleep.
When the weather got hot, I would end up at that desert oasis in Ranchos called Taco Bell. Inside I stared at the walls painted unorthodox colors to make it look less cheap and listened to the soft jazz. The dropouts working the counter understood the plight of life in Taos and let me drink the cold Baja Blast with a water cup. I pondered life and what could have been and what was not. Tourists stopped in to eat as they passed through town. Their kids complained that their sister did this or that and wanted to know the next time they would swim in the over-chlorinated pool at the hotel. I would close my eyes and imagine that I was one of them on a road trip with my family in late July. Back-to-school commercials on the hotel TVs offered deals on binders and loose-leaf and pencils. Anxiety put knots in my stomach when the kids played, and I could feel it all, like I was there, like I was 11 years old again waiting to start the sixth grade. Then I would push the door open and walk the highway miles back to the Albertson’s parking lot looking for a fix.
My dad came to see me for my birthday. It was miserable. I was homeless. While he was there, I ran off to score dope and did heroin in the hotel bathroom at night. The morning he left, we visited the Gorge Bridge a mile or so from the Mesa. It was foggy, and I was high. He knew how it would be before he came and that nothing would change with me. The obvious heroin use didn’t seem to bother him anymore. Maybe he came just to show me he loved me, even if I didn’t love myself. Maybe he came to show me he wasn’t giving up, even if it killed him.
Dramas continued to unfold in Taos. I did a lot of drugs and wandered homeless and slept under a tree in a field behind McDonald’s. One of my teeth abscessed, and when I had the chance to get it pulled I went to get high instead. There was a short-lived attempt to get sober at Cheo’s place. By November my mom paid 400 bucks to get me a room on the second story of a white stucco building across from the jail.
My neighbor prep-cooked in the mornings and drank malt liquor at night. There was a chunky flap of cheek hanging from his jaw. He told me about being homeless as a younger man and his six-month coma after the extraction of a wisdom tooth went wrong. Doctors kept him in the coma so they could cut away the necrotizing fasciitis in his face every few hours. He lived many lives in his coma. He had been a big movie star whose last role was the voice of a baby duck in an animated film. Everyone loved him and mourned the end of his career. His eyes watered as he spoke. When my neighbor regained consciousness from the coma, his body had atrophied. He was still homeless. The doctors sowed his face back together, but it never looked right.
I always remembered the stories people told me. It seemed like they were always fascinating and bordering on the unbelievable much like my own, but maybe I remembered stories like my neighbor’s because I identified with the pain in it. That apartment was miserable. That’s where I met my girlfriend Danielle. I’ll tell you about her soon.
The last time Bob and I spent time together was right when he got out of the hospital again, a year later. We had not talked for a long time, but I knew where he lived, and I knew he was in the hospital, so I moved in. I was renting the front room out to Johnny and his girlfriend who drooled on herself and always had four or five spoons on the kitchen counter with streaks of soot and the scattered pink crumbs of pills she called fast fives. One of her eyelids always stuck halfway shut, and she paused several seconds between every word.
Bob was happy to see me anyway. That was the life of a junkie, even at 75. You go to the hospital. You get out. Junkies are living in your house, and the party goes on. My girlfriend, Danielle, put the light bill in her name, because Bob owed money to the company and asked us to. But when he made us mad one day I threw a big-box TV at his feet and busted the white powder all over his floor. Danielle and I turned the power off on the old man in the middle of winter to collect the deposit. It was the last time that I ever saw him, but not the last I heard.
A year later, he called me from Miami, where I suppose he died. Years after that, in the foyer of a church, a woman asked me if I had a grandfather who passed.
“He wants to tell you hello.”
“You mean you talk to dead people?”
“My friends are passed over.” She said, as if calling them dead was politically incorrect.
“Oh, well, I didn’t know my grandfather. I don’t know who it could be.”
She struggled to get the deceased’s name, but could not come up with it.
“I’ll let you know if he tells me his name. He says he loves you. He says you went through a lot together, and that you were in a bad way. He said he is proud of you, for doing so well. Very proud.”
She walked back over to her table, and I forgot about her. My girlfriend and I talked. She said she thought contact with the dead was evil. I had my own opinions about how that worked and explained. The lady stood up suddenly and screamed,
“BOB!!!!! He says his name is Bob!!!!!! He loves you and, he is so, so proud of you!”
submitted by ASavageLost to Drugs

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