I’m a cruel heartless SOB…at times

I was watching Extreme Makeover Home Edition tonight and it was about a family that had 7 daughters and one son. The son got brain cancer and died at age 6. They were expecting another baby, a boy, and they had one bathroom…holes in the floor and ceiling etc. 3 of the girls played softball and were huge Yankee fans. ABC called and told Jorge Posada, who had a son who has had 6 brain surgeries already, and he brought a Joe Torre jersey that was autographed by the entire team to be hung up in the girls bedroom. I turned to my grandma and I said “Thank God Ian isn’t here or else he’d be bawling and saying how he couldn’t hate the Yankees right now…but by God I have no problem still hating those bastards!” My grandma looked at me and called me a cruel heartless son of a bitch. I will freely admit, when I hate your guts, I don’t give a shit what you do…you aren’t getting off that list unless someone else comes along and takes your place. I don’t just create vacancies. That isn’t me. Not by a longshot. BTW – Ian Rotten almost cried when I told him that story from the laughter knowing how true my sentiments and expectations are.

Speaking of what I am not, I now find myself in a position that I never thought I would find myself in ever. I am the man of hope and optimism however fleeting. My Horsemen have accepted the likelihood of defeat. They are almost sure of failure and disaster. They fear for my wellbeing (my sleepless nights and stomach ailments) and my sanity. The mission of the Horsemen is to keep me on top, help me to victory and to protect me from myself. Of course, Sox and Fusion were the naysayers from the get go right along with me. It was Ray and Maniwa and Mickie and others that were clapping and cheering and saying “you never know unless you go for it.” They believed in me. That belief was like a huge weight being lifted off my chest. It was no longer me vs. the entire world. Now I have run out of time. Instead of waiting almost a year after the first inclination…almost four months after first talking to Maniwa about it, I should have begun sooner. I am behind but I still have the bat in my hands and I have one more good swing in me. The naysayers are much louder now and in greater number than the supporters. Even some of the supporters have turned to naysayers. The naysayers are saying to live to fight another day and to run at options B & C and forget about what you want the most…go for the surer victory. Fusion doesn’t know if he can come on the 19th because he doesn’t want to have his heart under the stress of the way he acts at a show and under the stress that would be endured seeing me and knowing that he has lost faith in the cause and doubts his hero. Here’s to hoping that I can eventually prove him wrong and he can forgive himself for doubting me since it was only in looking out for my best interests and protecting me.

Well it is after 10. I should have started my restless tossing and turning at least half an hour ago.

Until next time…it looks like the 19th will be ultrachicanery for the Horsemen.






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