This is just a live stream. I think? Oh, maybe not. It’s an hour long video. And I’m not going to listen to this shit. I don’t care about PVC Bondage Guy’s stupid wrestling obsession that she got nine months ago. This is manic bullshit. She’s needs medication to treat this. Her sudden obsession with wrestling isn’t an interest, it’s a symptom of mental illness.

0:45 – Newt is talking about the comic book store that he worked in.

I only went to a few comic book stores in my life, despite the fact that I considered myself a comic book fan. I think that I’ve amassed about 700 comics, which isn’t a huge amount, but I only collected from about the ages of 12 to 16 or so.

I went a comic book shop in town. It was just a small place. They had a few comics. I got some stuff from there once in a while. Less than ten times. I got a signed Rob Liefeld X-Force card from a pack of cards there. I can’t remember how much that this is supposed to be worth now. At least $200, I think. There were only 100 such cards, if I recall correctly.

The father of a girl from my class owned this place. It used to be a video rental store but after that business dried up, they made it a baseball card/comic book store.

I went to another place that was in town. It was a bookstore but in the back, he opened up a small comic section. That was a pretty creepy place with a creepy guy running it. I only went once.

Oh, I also used to go fairly often to some place by a mall. And I drove there, I think, so I must have been buying comics past 16 because I didn’t drive until I was…17 or 18.

Learning to drive was a terrible experience. My mother kept insisting that I didn’t know how to drive. She, genuinely, couldn’t drive. Never bothered to learn. That would have required effort, something that she didn’t do. I enjoyed reminding her that Hitler also couldn’t drive. That’s why you always see him being driven in pictures when he’s in a car.

But she was just relentlessly negative. She didn’t want me to get a licence. Constantly told me that I’m a shit driver, despite the fact that I had gone through driving school and had practiced driving for many hours.

I was a senior in high school. Actually, I fucking should have graduated already. It was the summer after 12th grade. I was going to summer school. And I hated taking that fucking bus. It was a city bus, it took like two hours to get to the school (compared to 30 minutes by car) and was awful.

I had a car. It used to by my sister’s car. It was a piece of shit. But I didn’t have a licence.

So one morning, I’m telling my mother that I need to take this test to get my licence so that I don’t have to take this fucking bus any more. And like usual, she’s insisting that I don’t know how to drive. So I just said fuck this. I got in the car and I drove to school. No problems. Didn’t have a licence. But that spurred things into action because at that point she knew that I was just going to continue to drive without a licence until I got one. I got my licence within a week of that incident.

You know how in movies and tv shows there’s that big moment when somebody turns 16 and they can finally drive and it opens up a whole world of freedom and having fun with the ladies? I didn’t get to experience that. And I’d been learning to drive since I was 15, like everybody else. I had numerous “learning permits”. They would expire and I’d have to get another one. All because my controlling mother didn’t want me to get a licence.

What a total piece of shit. Parents are really crucial to your life. You get a good one, it gives you a giant advantage in life. You get a shit one, it really fucks you up.

Where was I going with this? Oh yeah, that comic book store by the mall. I went there maybe 20 times. I don’t know. I don’t actually remember it too much. They had shelves of comics. I don’t know. It was a comic store.

Oh, there was another one that I went to once or twice that was by some tae kwon do school that I went to. Again, it was just a comic book store. None of these places were anything noteworthy. I bought some Dark Horse…World’s Greatest Comics or something. Oh, Comics Greatest World. They were $1 comics, and by this time most comics were more than that. These comics were thin because of the price. Barbed Wire was one of them. That became a Pamela Anderson movie. Each comic was a contained story but they ended up being somehow linked. I liked them. I bought a lot of them. I tried to get them all.

There was another I went to once inside of a mall. It was a comic book store. I bought some comic allegedly written by Leonard Nimoy that had a rhino on the cover and was by some weird company that I never heard of. Oh. Primortals was the comic and the publisher was Tekno Comix.

I got the vast majority of my comics through mail order, though. I got some real crap. But I also managed to get some good stuff, later in my comic book collecting days when I focused more on vintage stuff from the 1970s. All of those comics from the 1990s that I got are worth nothing but the stuff from the 1970s is sometimes worth something. And they were literally giving this shit away. You’d get free comics with every order from Joseph Koch Comics and they would include just obscure shit from the 1970s. I got a Crazy Magazine with Shaft on the cover, for example. And like a hundred water-damaged Casper and Richie Rich Digests.

Where was I going with this? Newt Wallen? Do I really have to watch this? I’ll give a few more minutes.

1:15 – “So a couple of months ago, you got super into wrestling.”

Newt knows full well that this is mental illness. Why the sudden interest? She didn’t know about wrestling before?

Okay, I’m turning this off. I made it to 2:45. She’s talking about Sabu and ECW and this is all new to her. This wrestling from 30 years ago is all new to her. And it’s extreme mental illness that she’s suddenly into this.

Is there anything that I can say about wrestling? Well, I’ve known about it since…maybe the third grade. By the fourth grade, people would talk about it on the playground. Pretend that they’re Randy Savage or Jimmy Snuka or whatever.

I didn’t start watching until probably the sixth grade. Because I remember people being asked who the tag team champions were and if you didn’t know, you were roundly mocked for not watching wrestling. And I didn’t know if it was Demolition or…whoever…the Hart Foundation so I obviously wasn’t watching the product at the time.

So I started watching. I’d watch the show on Sunday. Superstars of Wrestling, I guess. It was all jobber matches except for the last match where it was two named guys.

I never watched the pay per views or any of that shit but I went to a couple of pay per views at my friend’s dad’s house. He had a bootleg setup so he’d get all of the channels and he’d watch the pay per views and have a lot of snacks and whatnot.

God, what a difference that guy was to my own father. My father didn’t do SHIT. I have more father/son bonding moments with my friend’s father than I do with my own. We went fishing. We ate family meals together. We played video games together.

My father took absolutely no interest in being a father. Never played any sports with me. Never encouraged me to play sports. Never played a video game with me. He never even watched tv with me. He did nothing. If he wasn’t working (he worked a lot, he’d be away for days at a time), he was in the bar, or he was in his room.

Did nothing in terms of being a father. What kind of a father hides in his room whenever he’s home? Total piece of shit.

He literally never watched television with me. He was never in the fucking living room. It’s just mindboggling when you think about it.

Never helped with homework. Never imparted any fatherly advice. He didn’t want to be there. And I get it. I wouldn’t want to be around my mother either. But you have children.

We’d go on vacation every year. That’s the only time we would spend time together. And he was fine then. He seemed to enjoy spending time with us. But the rest of the year, it was nothing. It’s like he could only hold it together and be a normal father for two weeks out of the year.

It’s just such a waste. What were these people thinking? Have children and then do absolutely no parenting. What’s the worst that can happen?

That monkey with the wireframe mother had more loving parents than I did.

5 thoughts on “METZ VS MICK FOLEY – Newt Wallen

  1. I was just thinking of blogs and my lousy parents. I had an English professor in college who wrote, “You write WELL” on one of my papers, with “WELL” unnderlined, and it went on to say that I need to just do all of the assignments.

    So I went home, pleased with this, and told my mother about it. I got this paper back and she said that I write well and “well” was underlined. My mother said, “You’re not supposed to underline words.”

    It’s just unbelievable. All she had to do was say, “Hey, good job. I’m sure that you do write well. Not that I’d know because I’ve never looked at a single thing that you’ve ever written.” A little encouragement. No. Nothing. She criticised the professor for not following underlining protocol.

    “Why don’t you call? Why don’t you visit? I can’t understand it.”

    1. “let em know”. They don’t give a shit Newt. In fact, nobody on this planet really does. This is a terrible product made by terrible people. Your former friends are terrible people too, so they aren’t even people you should be wanting contact with. They shouldn’t want contact with you either. Do you guys not all comprehend that none of you is the good person here? You’re all shit.

  2. Bigfoot exorcist? Never heard him talk about this. Maybe Skittles has, i missed it though. Everything Newt does is to get back at the “red head” and “the Italian”…

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