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John Raide · (12-19-2013)

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I step through the curtain and spit blood onto the ground.

Well I'll be ... one of those Black Circle parasites split my bottom lip.

I hear shouting. Someone yells something about Eli James snorting coke. I hold in a laugh. It seems Meth Head Santa Claus has found a brand new high. What's Jesus gonna think about that one?

I collapse down onto a folding chair and one of the swarming medics starts shining a pen light into my eye, and I wave him off. He asks if I need anything and I tell him to bring me a cold beer. The moron asks if I'm serious and I shoot him a look and he scrambles away.

I start to zone out, letting the events of the evening play over in my head. I almost miss John Austin walking by with a towel over the mop of his hair. I ask him how his nose is feeling and he flips me the bird.

The show seems to be winding down as I can hear foot traffic approaching where I'm sitting. First through the curtain is the Spanish announcing team. Both are yelling in high pitch voices about something fierce. The one with the sexual predator mustache stops and slaps my knee and starts to ramble something off in Spanish at me.

I nod politely and he's on his way. Why the fuck do people do that?

The other day I'm ordering a sandwich at a local deli and this Asian man comes over to ask me a question in Chinese. I tell him I can't understand him, mainly to see if he understands English (he doesn't) and he keeps yapping away at me in Chinese.

At what point does it look like I speak your fucking language?

Have you noticed that I'm not responding to you at all?

Why in the blue hell would you bother to keep talking at me?

It turned out that his wife was going into labor, but that's neither here nor there...

The medic sheepishly returns with the beer I asked for and I shoo him away after I get my beverage. I press it against my split lip and it stings for a moment, but then the cold feels pretty good.

Perhaps you'll indulge me on another rant. Here's the other issue I have with language barriers. If you're going to live here, know the language. I'm not fucking around on this. This is for your benefit as well as mine.

Now, before you start thinking I'm being xenophobic, please know that I support people from all walks of life. I don't care what you look like, dress like, color of your skin or even who you want to marry.

I'm very supportive of Peter Gilmour's same sex marriage to Ross Smith and Eli James' marriage to his husband Mystica. I'm glad they are able to find love in this lonely world of ours.

My point is we all have a social contract to follow. I think it's incredibly irresponsible for anyone to be in a country trying to live and not speak the language. Look, I lived in Japan for two years. You can damn well bet I learned Japanese before I walked into somewhere hoping that I wasn't going to unknowingly give license to having my nuts chopped off on a Japanese game show.

Anyway, the beer the medic brought me goes down smooth.

--

I sit in the hotel lobby and enjoy a cup of coffee. It's subpar at best, about two grades above motor oil, but I drink it anyway. It's been an uneventful week and it feels like I'm just killing time until I can get back in the ring on Thursday.

I won't waste your time by telling you what a crock of shit it is that I'm not in the match for the US title next week. I go and expose 'our champion' John Austin for the fraud he is on live TV and my reward is I have to compete in a match with the Brothers McGangBang and She-Ra.

There was something else I wanted to add, but I'm distracted by two yuppie idiots trying to impress the other with how knowledgable they are with current events. One is informing the other about how it snowed across the Middle East, including Egypt, Lebanon, Syria and Israel.

First time in a century...

Zzzzz...

Does anyone fucking care about this?

Wait ... wait, let me just check my tarot cards, drain the blood of a virgin, and cast a spell over a sleeping Unknown Soldier and --

Oh, you're right that does sound a bit like horse shit.

It's obvious that it snowed there because Santa (real Santa, not Eli James in the role of Meth Head Santa Claus) is coming to town!

Golly-gee-fucking-whiz guys!

Hang on, I'm getting a call from my sources, and they are telling me that She-Ra, code name Egyptian Snow Pharaoh, may in fact be the one responsible for the first snow fall in a century.

Sheee-it. And here I thought spending all that time drawing pentagrams on the back of school buses was going to prevent that. Fuck me, right?

Side note, ever notice how women will be all like: "Hey, I'm a bad bitch." or "Don't fuck with me, I'm a bad bitch." But the minute you're like, "Hey, you're being kind of a bitch right now," the fucking claws come out?

Seriously, make up your goddamn mind.

But back to the topic at hand, please, send all the snow you want. Bring the storm of the century. I'm looking forward to it. Word to the wise though, just be sure in the mean time you don't give an Irishman a reason.

Yeah, I don't know what that means either. I think I saw it on a bumper sticker somewhere.

Anyway, I have a bowl of lucky charms calling my name back in my hotel room.

I'll see you fine folks on Warfare.

I'd tell you to pray if you were into that sort of thing, but it wouldn't do any good.

You have earned what is coming to you.

FULL DISCLOSURE: Things I did before I sent this out

1. Watched the next installment of The Hobbit. The actor who voices Smaug is a mighty fine actor. (Not a fan of overpaying for stale popcorn).

2. Noticed that I referred to Rose Smith as Ross Smith. Fuck it, it stays.

3. Gotta be honest, I wouldn't kick ESP out of bed for eating cookies.

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