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John Raide · (12-28-2013)

It's Christmas. I'm slightly drunk, sitting on the floor of my hotel room while Goodfellas plays on the TV in the background.

No man is a failure who has friends, right?

Yeah. I know. Wrong fucking movie, John.

I look around, there is a blonde laying face down in the pillow on the disheveled bed.

What was her name? Something with a T I think...

It doesn't matter. I grab the bottle of wine that has toppled over onto the carpet near my feet and I take a swig. It's a bit warm, but it washes the taste of bile out of my mouth.

I try to think back to how I got here. Not to the hotel room per say, but just here in life. I start to understand why people off themselves over the holidays. It can all get a bit depressing if you let it.

It's hard not to feel detached. I hold my hand up in front of my face until the depth of field behind it turns fuzzy. I feel the fatigue sink in like waves arriving on the shore.

One can already feel like an alien walking about if you venture out on Christmas day. Nothing is opened, the streets are deserted. The places that you can go into seem foreign, disconnected from everything else. The people working there are understudies of the people normally cast in the role of counter jockey or shop owner.

It doesn't help that I'm in San Diego. It's warm, there's bright sun, and the palm trees are done up like Christmas trees and there's foam in the place of snow.

Fucking foam!

Goddamit...

Where's Egyptian Snow Pharaoh when I need her to swing in and blow (not Michael McBride) this city away with a blizzard?

Oh well, guess we can't always get what we want.

Speaking of those two love birds ... what the hell happened on Warfare?

The whole week I had to listen to ESP run her belligerent mouth about how she was crafting this ultimate weapon in McBride and how I should watch out for him.

Smash cut to Warfare where I'm beating that brain dead Mick up one side of the ring and down the other and then suddenly I'm shoved out of the ring so she can go and pin him.

Yeah...

Seems like a lot of effort for a so called master plan. Next time, just save your breath and stop giving McBride more hype than his career will ever see again.

I'm going to apologize in advance here because I've been drinking so I'm probably going to ramble a bit and jump all over the place. Here's something that has been kicking around in my head. Why in the blue hell is that good ol' boy Eli James the guest timekeeper for my match on Friday?

Seriously, I'm not even asking for a friend, I sincerely want to know.

You're telling me that the guy with his homeschool education that he received on the gator farm is going to be in charge of keeping time?

The man can barely articulate himself without talking in circles and this is what XWF management thinks he's best suited for?

May I point you to him as a guest referee a few weeks back where he sat on his wide ass and couldn't even officiate the match right?

But please, go ahead and keep giving Cat Stevens little jobs since it's clear the guy can't wrestle anymore.

That little rant back there is where Eli is going to come in and say something about how I keep making fun of his weight, his beard, him being uneducated, him being from the south as if repeating back my insults at him cuts me real deep.

Go ask John Austin how that worked out.

Also, be on the look out for him to call me a coward, a child, an ignoramus or some other lame insult that's supposed to make it look like he's holding all the power.

He's not.

Maybe once he's done his stint next week as guest custodian or guest fluffer or guest asshole he'll finally decide to step in the ring with me.

That's a huge maybe. He'll keep making excuses of why he can't and he'll put his little spin on it and try to make it seem like someone has to be worthy to kick his teeth down his throat.

Then he'll spin that and say, "...but if someone doesn't have to be worthy to fight me, why do you want to fight me if you're saying you're worthy on the non worthy day of the non worthy month and I never said there was a god, but there is a god, but there isn't, but you should fear him, but don't."

Or some convoluted bullshit like that.

Also, apologies to Damien Callaway. I'm sure you're a real interesting guy and you look like you have some problems. We're all fucked in our own way. Just know that nothing I do to you on Wednesday is personal.

But you're a step, just like Tri Bute was, just like John Austin, just like Mick McBride.

You're a step for me as I move onto something greater. Something bigger.

Don't stand in my way.

I'd hate to have to cut you down.

FULL DISCLOSURE: Things I did before I sent this out

1. Received a Christmas card from the XWF offices ... not sure what this stain is...

2. I might have enough pork fried rice to last me to spring. Also, opened fortune cookie and confirmed something for me: "The world is yours."

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

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