The Ithaca Vortex Triangle Mystery

I feel so sick I had to cancel my booking last night.  I really wanted to get a motel room and sleep but I’m right on the edge moneywise again so I didn’t.  My plan was to drive to my next show and just hope that I felt better.  It wasn’t much of a plan.

While I was driving I suddenly felt fine.  A few miles further and just as quickly I felt awful again.  On a whim, I turned around and went back the way I came, and again I felt fine for a couple miles.  I did that a few times until I mapped out where I felt good. 

I pulled over to the side of the road and sat in my car for a long time not sure what do.  What I decided is that I wasn’t really sick.  What I decided is that it was her making me feel that way. 

Some people in the comments have asked why I say “the Asian girl” instead of a name.  There are a couple reasons.  One of them is that names have power.  That’s one thing Harry Potter got right about magic.  It’s the same reason people used to say Old Scratch or Sam Hill instead of Satan.  You never know who might be listening.

I drove to a gas station and, feeling like an idiot, asked the lady working there if the area had any strange local folklore.  It was like asking a new mother if they had any pictures of their baby.  She talked for a long time.  She kept talking to me while selling people cigarettes and lottery tickets.

The highlights are that Native Americans thought this area was cursed, there’s a house supposedly haunted by a woman who was murdered there, from 1969-1981 someone disappeared in the area once a year every year in October, and people claim to have seen giants in the woods.  Not Bigfoot, giants.

I don’t know why any of these things would result in me being healed or blocking the Asian girl’s magic.  I asked the gas station lady where the cheapest place to stay nearby was.

Brass Knuckle Barb Wire Bikini Beach Brawl Buckle Match

My street fight got me thinking about gimmick matches.  I daydream sometimes about what I would do if I make it on TV.  Mostly I would annoy people by trying to bring back old wrestling gimmicks that no one wants anymore.

I feel like whenever you watch a show from the 70’s there’s always a dude with a bullwhip for no reason.  The only whip I’ve ever seen was a lady who was doing a dominatrix/cat thing.  That’s Catwoman I guess.  I want to bring back bullwhips.

Do people really whip bulls or is that just a name?  If you whip a bull, won’t it gore you?

Sometimes there’d be a dude with a chain around his neck.  Or a rope with a cowbell.  But my favorite is the bone.  Dudes would just come to the ring with a big femur like that was normal.  “Oh, this is just the bone I carry around, don’t worry about it.”  Maybe it’s a therapy bone.

I would also challenge people to weird old matches.  I mentioned before how my goal is to be in a flag match and get booed as the USA representative.  Another one I like is a coal miner’s glove on a pole match.  To really get all the coal miners interested in the match.  Evening gown matches, I’d love to do that.  I saw a match once with a sock full of coins.  I’d love to upset people with all that old crap.

There’s one thing I know for sure about gimmick matches – if it takes more than a sentence, maybe two sentences at most to explain the concept, it sucks.  Hell in a Cell?  Fine.  Elimination Chamber?  Garbage.  Ladder match?  Great.  Wargames?  Awful.  Coffin match?  Love it.  Anything with someone being put in a shark cage or handcuffed to something?  Don’t waste my time.

If there is a second thing I know about gimmick matches it’s that you should  make sure the gimmick works.  I watched a compilation of old matches from NWA and WCW where whatever stupid thing they were trying to do failed.  There would be a box or something that would fall apart.  Or there would be a switch that kept falling down.  Dumb stuff like that. 

TNA really hits both sides.  There’s not a lot left to come up with in the world of gimmick matches.  But they hit a home run with the Ultimate X match.  On the other hand, they also came up with the King of the Mountain match which is unwatchable.  What the fuck is even happening in that match?

Protecting Nike’s brand reputation is definitely worth putting someone in prison

The problem with my new piece of crap car is that it’s not big enough to sleep in comfortably.  There are not a lot of options in the $500 or less price range.  A camper van would be my dream.  AEPW contacted me about a rematch, part three of the “Irish” Terry McGinn saga.  I thought about saying I would only do it if she explained what the hell she was doing last time.  Instead I just took the booking.  It’s good money and if she tries that shit again I’ll just break her kneecap.

I also got a call from Bloody Mary saying she wanted to work some dates with me “because we work so well together”.  I got in touch with the Bare Knuckle Fighting people and they’re interested.  Things would really be looking up if I didn’t feel like shit.  For several days now I’ve felt tired and drained.  I’ve had indigestion and nausea like crazy, which I never get, and I’ve felt bloated.  Add in a headache on top of that. 

I listened to a podcast about Nate “Grave” Diggers.  He’s a basketball player who was in the NBA for a little while.  He’s in prison now for selling stolen guns.  He was in prison before for selling drugs.  And another time for selling counterfeit Air Jordan shoes.  The hosts spent several minutes talking about how this guy was abandoned by his parents at a very young age, was living on his own on the streets between periods of being in foster care and group homes.  They were saying that’s why he was violent and “wild”. 

I don’t disagree with what they were saying.  I ran away from all the foster homes I was in.  But I didn’t like the way they were saying it.  I can’t explain it but even though I agree with their point that the system is broken, the way they were talking about it pissed me off. 

On the upside, in the abandoned at a young age category of people, as long as I stay out of prison I’ll be doing better than Nate “Grave” Diggers.   It’s good to have goals.

It was just like Die Hard

The woman I worked last night wrestled in cut-off Wrangler jeans and Carhartt work boots.  I think it was a gimmick.  I’m still working barefoot and she stepped on my toes about 700 million times.  There’s a spot you do in wrestling with bare feet where you pretend to stomp them.  This wasn’t that, she was just clumsy.

I think I would have lost a couple toes if I couldn’t heal myself.  This experience convinced me to use the last dollars I had to buy some Pro-Keds to wear in the ring.  Hopefully I’ll have enough gas to make it to my next show.  If I don’t get paid I’m fucked.

One of the only times I’ve gone out to hang with the “boys” was after a show in Burlington.  The promoter disappeared and didn’t pay anyone.  A wrestler called Pete Thunder invited everyone to a bar his wife worked at to drink for free. 

Everyone was complaining about not getting paid while drinking more free booze than they could have bought with the money they were supposed to get.  After a while it turned into a kind of game where everyone was saying what they could do to the promoter if they ever saw him again.

I said that I would cut up his body into six pieces put them in garbage bags and dispose of the pieces in a Pennsylvania mineshaft.  That was the end of the game.  After that nobody would talk to me except an old dude with bleach-blonde hair that looked like he belonged in the 1980s wrestling scene.  I asked him what I said that was wrong.

He told me that when someone says they’re going to rip off someone’s head everyone knows they’re joking.  What I said was too specific.  I said it like I was really going to do it. 

I didn’t understand the rules of the game I guess.  Later he asked me if I wanted to do a line of coke off his dick.  Talking to people is hard. 

Remember what the dormouse said

Last night I returned to Lights Out Xtreme Wrestling for my promised match “perfect” for my “gimmick”. The site of this long awaited showdown was the prestigious Cascade Holiday Inn in Akron.  It was quite a night. 

I don’t know how many people were there but I believe my previous record at the bullfighting ring in Mexico was beaten.  At the bullring the people were far away, so having them all crammed in around us made it seem like ten times as many.  When I worked for Lights Out before, it was a decent show but I didn’t know they could draw a crowd like this.  Before the show started there were hundreds of people there at the merch tables.  I really should get some merch.  Of course I’d need money for that to happen.

I didn’t talk to my opponent before the match, I didn’t even know who it was until I saw her come out to the ring.  We were the last match before intermission, which can go either way.  Sometimes people are already checked out.  Sometimes they treat it like a mini-main event.  This crowd was hot the whole show.

I came to the ring unannounced, which I like.  Most people hate it because it makes you look unimportant but there’s something about it I find appealing.  My opponent came out to one of those songs that they play in every movie about Vietnam.  Something by the Doors I think. 

She was dressed like a ballerina.  Not in a pink tutu, but with tights and a leotard maybe.  I don’t really know what it all was.  She did have those ballet shoes on.  She looked like she had been run over by a dirtbike and then left in a ditch for a couple weeks.  Her gear was all torn up and dirty.  And bloody. 

She didn’t shuffle to the ring like a zombie but she had a deliberate and strange way to coming down to the ring.  She was introduced as “McSweeny” and the crowd went nuts.  I get what the promoter meant now.  With her looking like that and me with my mask it’s a vibe like Su Yung and Rosemary.  The referee did a great job of selling it too.  He acted like he was scared to death of her.

When the bell rung she came at me like a wildcat.  We hadn’t discussed anything beforehand and we barely said anything to each other in the ring.  We were just reacting to each other.  From a certain POV it was the worst match I ever had.  We hardly did anything but brawl.  We were going too fast and not selling much. 

But from another POV it was my best match ever.  It was like a real fight.  Not a real real fight, but what people think is a real fight because of fights in movies.  We fought through the ropes and into the crowd in the first thirty seconds.  We were smashing into fans and tripping over ourselves and the people loved it.  At one point she kicked an obnoxious fan out of her way to get at me. 

It was wild.  Normally a street fight match is used for a feud.  They used to be feudkillers in the old days but they’re somewhat tame by today’s standards.  I had never worked a gimmick match before.  I heard they’re supposed to be easier, if more painful, because you can use props instead of doing moves but I was gassed after a couple minutes.  Wrestling is more demanding cardio than people think.  Take a cushion off your couch and punch it continuously and see how long you last. 

I was puffing like a train for a second but I got it together.  It was a nine minute match that felt like forty seconds it was so furious.  In the end she hit me with the Nutcracker Suite and pinned me.  What other finish would a battered ballerina use?  The crowd was going crazy like they had just seen the Superbowl.

The promoter paid me $220, which is more than we agreed upon.  He told me good matches get bonuses.  When I went looking for my opponent backstage to thank her I saw her in street clothes talking to the guy in the crowd she kicked.  Must be her husband or BF.  Out of her gear she looked like a kindergarten teacher.  With them was a little girl, who was wearing a pink tutu and excitedly telling her about the stray cat she saw.  It was grey.

I didn’t want to intrude then and before I could talk to her she was gone.  Some of the other people on the show told me that’s what she’s like.  She doesn’t socialize or hang around, she does he job and then gets home.  That kind of attitude rubs people the wrong way usually but everyone seemed to love her.  One guy was grinning as he told me “She’s a ghost, man.”

I kind of like that.

Not guilty by reason of insanity

In 1989 three women lured a man into an apartment.  One of them was hiding behind the shower curtain and hit him in the head with an ax.  Their goal was to dismember him, drain his blood, and eat his kidneys.  They believed that this ritual would resurrect Jack the Ripper.  Why would anyone want to bring back Jack the Ripper?  Because the woman with the ax was his mother in her past life.  Of course.

The two women who didn’t hit the guy in the head with an ax were sent to prison for attempted murder.  They’re out now.  The ringleader with the ax was sent to a psychiatric facility.  She’s still there.  She’s crazy regardless, but knowing what I know the question is; was she working magic?  Could she have brought back Jack the Ripper?  How many people in psychiatric facilities or prison really are blood magic people? 

I watched a video of a woman in the lobby of a bank being attacked by dogs.  She lived because she jammed herself in the revolving door and a guy working at the bank got in front of her.  They both got tore up.  Another guy came in and shot three of the dogs.  An article said that it was a bank security guard but it looked like just a guy there at the bank with a carry permit to me. 

The police think the woman’s ex-husband plotted this attack but they can’t say how or why he got attack dogs.  I think it was magic.  Reading through Royale’s notes he talks about summoning and controlling animals being a staple of blood magic practitioners.  There are some journal entries and old news clippings about Bessie and him coming up against a British couple that used dogs to attack their enemies.  He also references a doctor in the 40s named Jason Thompson who used dogs as minions.

What do I do about it?  I suspect that the woman in this video’s ex-husband is a blood magician.  What do I do with that information?  In Royale’s notes he talks about stopping evil users but he doesn’t elaborate.  What did he do?  Did he fucking kill all these people?  I can’t believe that.  So what did he do about it? 

Always good for a laugh

Half of my matches at least have been intergender.  Usually because I’m the only woman booked on the show.  Until now I’ve never really had any issues with the guys I’ve worked.  Maybe they shit talk behind my back, but to my face they didn’t care.  A lot of them are newer guys who are just glad to be on the show.  It’s probably some kind of hazing – work with the girl rookie.

That changed last night.   I worked a guy, I kid you not, called Lance Armstrong.  That’s his real name and in the world of wrestling where everyone uses a different name he decided to stick with it.  He looked like Chris Masters only without a stupid face.  I asked him what he wanted to do for our match and he said “How about when we’re out there you try to keep my cock out of your ass?”  He and his crew of douchebags laughed like it was the funniest joke ever told. 

I never met this guy and right out of the gate he goes to threats of anal rape.  Classy.  He must be boys with someone I’ve pissed off.  That could be any number of people.  I really need to work on my people skills.   After that interaction I figured there was no point in talking anything else over about our match.

Once we got out there, he stood in the middle of the ring flexing and ignoring me.  If I tried to do a move he’d shove me away.  The crowd was not pleased by this. Eventually I left the ring, sat in a chair out in the crowd and chanted “bullshit” with them.  I also got them chanting “live strong”. 

Once I gave up and went backstage, the promoter went ballistic.  Shortly thereafter, Lance Armstrong came back and told him that we had worked out a bit where he would flex and then I would roll him up and the match would start in earnest.  He said that I had sandbagged him.  I didn’t bother to argue.

I don’t think I’ll be working for All-Pro Pro Wrestling, or Pro Pro as they call it, again.  I didn’t get paid.  I also didn’t find out what the hell that guy’s problem was with me.

You people make me sick

I’ve gotten pretty good at a spell that simply amplifies my voice.  It lets me talk to the crowd like I have a microphone even when I don’t.  Which is always.  A lot of shows I work don’t even have a PA system.  I’ve never been good at promos but last night I started ripping into the crowd for being there because they want to see someone get hurt.  I likened them to people who watch Nascar because they want to see a crash.  I said they were coward and voyeurs who were too scared to hurt people themselves so they watch others.   

It worked.  It really worked.  There weren’t a ton of people there but they hated me.  Some of them threw stuff at me. You know someone is pissed when they hurl a 12 dollar beer at you.  It seemed pretty unique at the time, but thinking about it more it’s similar to Mick Foley’s anti-wrestling bit in ECW years ago.  But if you try to limit yourself to things that have never been done before, you’re not going to do much.

When I got backstage my opponent asked me how I did that.  I told her there was a small mic in my mask and it connected to an app on my phone.  She had no further questions.  Sometimes the fact that no one cares about much anyone else is doing is helpful.  But not usually.  Usually it’s awful.

I watched a movie called My Fair Lady.  It’s about some guys that make a bet about turning a gross street urchin into a proper lady.  It was pretty good.  I think modern cinema is really missing the ‘two rich guys making a bet over maybe ruining a woman’s life’ storyline.  If any crazy rich people want to make a bet about if one of them can use their money to make me the world’s most successful wrestler I’m game for that. 

I also watched an episode of My Bare Lady.  It’s a British reality show about teaching porn stars to be real actors.  My Fair Lady was better but not by as much as you might think.

What’s in a name?

I watched part of the Undertaker documentary last night.  My main takeaway is that Michelle McCool looks great.  I don’t envy pretty girls often.  Shiny clothes?  Pointy shoes?  Flamboyant make-up?  Complicated underwear.  That is not for me.  But once in a while I do see a woman with a nice hairstyle and I feel jealous of that.  

There’s a scene where Michelle is going around with her husband doing whatever, and her hair is long and blonde and glorious and she’s got like a crown of braids.  I don’t know what it is but it looked great.  I would look ridiculous with long hair but it’s fun to pretend.  

Eric, aka the skinny Macho Man called me today.  His wife left him to shack up with someone else again and he wanted me to put “another” spell on her to take him back.  It reminded me that when I started this blog I thought I was going to start a cult.  Part of the reason the Asian girl has more power than me is that she’s channeling the magic energy of her followers.  

I see now that it’s not going to happen.  It’s a miracle I even have one follower.  I should probably change the name of this blog.  

I told him that I couldn’t help him.  He begged me to meet with him.  I told him where my next few shows were if he wanted to come to me but I reiterated that there was nothing I could do for him.  Some things people just don’t want to hear.

I went down, down, down and the flames went higher

 I didn’t know Subway had breakfast sandwiches.  They’re not bad.

Adding a stolen hockey mask to my terrible ring gear really improves the look.  I tried wearing the Johnny Cash t-shirt inside out but the graphic is irritating against the skin.  So I’m a masked psycho that likes Ring of Fire a lot.  I had a good match last night.  The promoter wants me back for a match with an opponent that’s “perfect for my gimmick”.  Who knew that all I needed to get a gimmick was losing everything I owned.

There is a voice in my head saying that I’m an asshole for feeling good about doing well after a series of crappy matches.  That voice says something bad happened, so I should never allow myself to feel good again.  Ignoring that voice is important.  It will be a while before it goes away.

I went to a sporting goods store to get a knife in case I run into another situation like in Lyons.  It was probably just my imagination but I felt Royale’s disapproval like a physical presence.  I didn’t end up buying one.  

I used that money for a motel room instead and spent some time looking through the documents in Royale’s trunk.  In one of his journals, he talked about a ritual he called Gilgul.  It’s a way to sever someone’s connection to magic.  According to his notes, it was more advanced that even he could manage.  And he was a thousand times better than I am right now.

That just means I have some work to do.