Hit and Misses

Well, it appears that my run at being in a television commercial has finally come to an end. After getting through the first round of auditions, the USA Network Powers That Be decided to go “an alternative route,” whatever that means. Oh well, at least it wasn’t all for naught. I never envisioned myself auditioning for anything, so to do this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience for me. I wonder what the casting agency did with my audition tape, because seeing me impersonate Triple H’s water spit or John Cena’s five knuckle shuffle is more than enough to win on America’s Funniest Home Videos any day. Damn.

I have never shopped on Black Friday before, and after waiting in line all night in 30 degree weather just to get kicked out of line only minutes before the store was to open, I have come to the realization why I’ve never done it before: BECAUSE IT SUCKS! What sucks even more? The $k0ki3 police department...I’ll show you “civil disobedience” – never have I wanted that warm and fuzzy feeling you get when you piss on the car of the cop who royally pissed you off than right at that moment.

While I was having a joyous time exchanging heated Thanksgiving tidings with the cop, my fiancé was earning her ring by freezing her ass off waiting in another line – at Gamestop...for the Nintendo Wii! And here’s a lesson for you soccer moms – waiting in line for one of the most coveted items this holiday season requires you to do one simple thing – wait in line. You get props for being there overnight and thereby pretty much guaranteeing your kid a system, but we take those props back since you didn’t go that one additional step and actually leave the warmth and comfort of your car to join the vigil of people willing to lose a frostbitten finger or three. Stupid soccer mom. They should all just stay at home and make me some babies.

Three Months, But Who's Counting?

It’s been awhile, and a lot’s gone on. Like watching your favorite porno, let’s fast forward to the good parts, shall we?

Have I mentioned that the fiancé and I are now living together? Honey, I love you dearly, but next time you leave me home alone to run some errands, can you PLEASE do me a favor? There’s nothing more uncomfortable than having a gigantic Mexican man stop by to install our cable and internet with scented candles burning and light jazz playing throughout our place. If this wasn’t awkward enough, the thought hit me as he was staring at one of the walls thinking of where he wanted to poke a hole with his drill...at least I hope that’s what he was thinking.

I usually stand my ground and comeback with something for anyone who talks shmack my way, but when a guy on a bicycle dressed in hee-haw overalls and a straw hat at 6:30 in the morning in a non-rural neighborhood is raging at you because you’re in his way, what else can you do but stand there dumbfounded in shock and awe. Did I see that? Someone please tell me I just didn’t see that.

After your woman has been drinking non-stop the whole night and spilling a little bit of wine on your suit jacket here and there, never, never, never make a comment about having to take said suit jacket to the dry cleaners. Because if you do, she’ll claim that the room is spinning and begin to regurgitate and spew all over said suit jacket along with matching suit pants, suit shirt and suit shoes, and thus re-inforcing the need to go to the dry cleaners. Somehow I feel that after a few years, I’ll have enough stories to write a book on the uncomfortable and unfortunate injustices men have had to go through because of women.

To the person that said that fear is the greatest motivator, I think I may have found something even greater – embarking on a late night trip back to Chicago from Milwaukee, and underestimating the time it takes for the White Castle burgers you had at the beginning of the trip to slide through your system. The thought of taking a shit in your own car is pretty terrifying, but the need to get to the friendly confines of your toilet at home is all the motivation anyone really needs to overcome that fear. As if you needed another reason to jet out of Wisconsin anyways.

Even I have my limits. Downing part of a bottle of hot sauce was easy. Downing a beer in a glass of chicken wing bones took a little effort. But downing a cup of bleu cheese? Since someone out there has photographical proof that I spit and definitely don’t swallow, my chances of running for a government office are pretty nil. If it's any consolation, while Drew is trying to sell a few insurance policies to the girls at Hooters, I'm offering them something more useful - a hotel room. I love the hospitality industry!

Last but definitely not least, have you ever laughed so hard you started to cry? Going to dinner with my buddies Carl and Eric is an experience like no other. Especially when we’re going to a decent restaurant and Eric’s stuck having to wear a t-shirt that says “I did it all for the Wookiee”. And if that wasn’t enough:

Eric: Do you have chips and salsa?

Waitress: Yes.

Eric: What does that entail?

Waitress: Ummm, chips and salsa?

Carl and Erwin: OoooooooH

A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words

After having our flight cancelled and re-booked to the following morning at the last second...

After being stuck in traffic (Seattle traffic nonetheless) for almost three hours...

After just missing the ferry and having to wait another two hours for the next one...

After getting onto the island just in time for one of our regular places that we normally frequent when we visit to tell us that they're closed...

This makes the entire frustration of sixteen hours of travel by plane, ferry and automobile so much more worth it:


A trip to the winery for a congratulatory bottle of wine and two glasses: $30

Ferry ride to the San Juan Islands: $65

Round trip flight from Chicago to Seattle: $400

A marriage proposal overlooking the Pacific Ocean at sunset: PRICELESS

She said yes!

The Beginning of the End

With the money I just spent, I could have bought:

- A really nice TV and home theatre system
- A PSA 10 Gem Mint 1986 Fleer Michael Jordan rookie card
- The platinum travel package for next year's WrestleMania in Detroit for myself and the people who went with me to WrestleMania this year

Instead, I bought this:



The things you do for love...how much head is this worth?

A Bad Omen?

From the "It Can Only Happen to Erwin" files:

Question: What are the chances of being about to leave a bank and running into an old friend who you haven't seen since his wedding day three years ago and him telling you that getting married is the worst thing you can possibly do?

Answer: Pretty high if you're me and you just went to the bank to send your very first bank wire to pay for an expensive piece of jewelry...like an engagement ring.

That's right, folks, you've read right - I sent my first bank wire!

The Move

After three plus years of imagining it, thinking of it and talking about it, the wait’s finally over – like a shady Albanian drugging an under aged girl that he met on Myspace and then having a one night stand with her in a Kane costume, the Erwin and Cathy Far From Scenic Please Be Uneventful Road Trip Short of Hell (also known as “The Move”) has come and gone. Let’s break this road trip down parte dalla parte, shall we?

Far From Scenic
With all the places we stopped for gas, our drive from Washington State to Chicago could easily have been called the Erwin and Cathy No Name Town Tour:

Ellensburg, WA
Kingston, ID
Custer, MT
Billings, MT
Clearwater, MN
Beach, ND
Fargo, ND
Hixton, WI
Rockford, IL

How I Did a 36 Hour Drive in 30 Hours #1 – Over 2,000 miles and the only things worth noting are crossing the Continental Divide twice and driving past an aluminum structure in North Dakota that proclaims to be the largest in the world – a foil eye.

Please Be Uneventful
I wonder what would have happened if I listened to the wifey and turned my head to look at a cave as I was driving through curves down a mountain going about 90 miles per hour.

How I Did a 36 Hour Drive in 30 Hours #2 – I’m pretty sure I averaged 90 – 95 miles per hour from start to finish. So much for the cops being out on 4th of July weekend.

Road Trip Short of Hell
The trip did have some memorable but infamous moments:
- Having to drive slowly through a section of highway where an accident investigation scene was ongoing with the bloody chalk outline of someone killed still on the road.
- Being unable to see through my rear windshield for pretty much the entire trip because one of the vacuum compressed bags that Cathy used to keep her clothes had filled with air.
- Eating breakfast at a McDonalds in Montana and overhearing a conversation among a bunch of 70 and 80 year old elderlies:
“I bought a bed at the flea market yesterday. It only cost me $9.”
“Did it come with a vibrator?”
- Driving on the first day of the trip from five in the morning to eight in the evening on only three hours of sleep and getting to our planned destination only to find out that all the hotels and motels in this Podunk town were booked because of a K K K biker rally and then having to stay at the only place that had vacancies – a hole in the wall motel/casino called the War Bonnet.

How I Did a 36 Hour Drive in 30 Hours #3 – Before the trip even started, I was told not to stop in Idaho while I was in Chicago, then I was told not to stop in Montana while in Washington, and then I was told not to stop in North Dakota while in Montana. Was it friendly advice or maybe a warning that colored folk just weren’t welcome?

Relativity

How I’d go about preventing someone from jumping off a building:

“There is no real meaning to life, only patterns. The adventurous type, the boring type, the quiet type, the flamboyant type, the cynical type, the geeky type, the perverted type, the suicidal type and so on and so forth. No matter who you are or how you identify yourself, you’re not the first to do what you’re about to do, and chances are, you’re not going to be the last either. No matter how different we perceive ourselves to be, we really are all the same. Everything is relative to everything else. Could you imagine what would happen if Kevin Bacon decided to jump off a mountain? The six degrees of Kevin Bacon would no longer exist.”

“And that’s a bad thing? “

“Hmmm, good point. I’ll see you in another life, brother.”

Okay, so maybe suicide prevention isn’t my thing. But you know what? I think White Castle burgers aren’t my thing either. I should have realized it after having to use the bathroom less than two hours of having my first White Castle burgers ever. I should have also realized it after having three more of those burgers after clearing out the inaugural set. Instead, the realization hit as I was running late to work this morning because my ass didn’t want to leave the toilet. What felt like a never ending stream of the squirts was actually excess burger, cheese, onions and steamed buns – the catalyst for a smooth ride out the hole. Pepto-Bismol, now that’s what I craved.

The time sitting on the pot wasn’t entirely full of waste though. I started to think of the previous day’s good times being in the company of great friends, and then it hit me.

The cheese sticks. The onion rings. The answer to the Bobby Brown question.

If my lovie was constipated and had asked me to take my hand up “there” to literally clean her system out, I would have to respectfully decline. If she then offered to sing that Whitney Houston song from “The Bodyguard,” I’d point to her and sing, “That Girl is Poison.” That’s right Bobby, let me put it this way: If Bel Biv Devoe busted a cap in your ass, do you honestly think Whitney would fist you to get that bullet? Shit, not if that bullet was filled with crack. “If It Isn’t Love?” What the fuck are you smoking dude?

I could see the comic right now in tomorrow morning’s newspaper:

“Love is...plopping your woman on the toilet and shoving White Castle burgers down her throat for instant constipation relief.”

Buffalo Rock State Park

Cleared for Takeoff

March 29, 1987 – The only light in my bedroom is coming from the television that is on channel nine, WGN news. I look over at the bottom bunk where my sister is sleeping peacefully, and I yawn, thinking that it’s past my bedtime too. It’s only around 9:30 at night, but at seven years old, 9:30 PM is more like midnight to me. My eyelids are heavy and I just want to lie down, but there’s something driving me to stay up and keep vigil, because there in my youth I truly believed that something big was going to happen. And it did.

“WGN news, tonight’s sports is brought to you by…”

As the commercial plays, sleepy weariness is replaced by an adrenalin rush. The light from the television seems brighter and I’m squinting because my pupils are trying to adjust. My heart appears to be beating faster. I have awoken.

The commercial ends and we cut back to the sportscaster at WGN news, but in what felt like not even a second, there it is:

I’m seeing Hogan vs. Andre. I’m hearing the words of Gorilla Monsoon, “The irresistable force meets the immovable object.” Both of them look at each other look at the sea of humanity, all 93,173 people at the Pontiac Silverdome for WrestleMania III.

The rest of that night is history. For me personally, that’s where it all began.

WrestleMania: WM3, Detroit – Where it all Begins...

Again – WM19, Seattle – Childhood dreams can come true...

And again – WM22, Chicago – Two words: Home City, One word: RINGSIDE...

And again – WM23, Detroit – The childhood dream comes full circle

It’s confirmed. April 1, 2007. Ford Field, Detroit. Silver package. I’ll see you in the lower level.

Touched by a Writer

Chuck Palahniuk (author of Fight Club, Invisible Monsters, Choke, Haunted, etc.) is one sick f*ck.



Chuck, thanks for agreeing with me. To all you in the Pacific Northwest, it's Ore-Ah-Gone!

A Modern Day Samson and Delilah

To all the fellas out there, I know you’ve heard this before, but I am going to officially join the millions (and millions) of guys before me and say that you cannot win against a woman. There’s just no way. It’s not possible, especially when it comes to making bets.

Men win bets simply because women let us. Women play to our needs knowing that we need instant gratification so they give us the quick and easy wins.

“Haha, you have to sing “I’m a Little Teapot” in public and you have to do all the motions.”

“Hizzah, make me a banana cream pie. Wait, why don’t you make that twoooo...and three quarters.”

“Heh heh, that’s right girlie, get underneath the table and do your thang while I have a nice conversation about politics and religion with your parents over dinner, yeah, yeah"...

...Okay, so not all these really happened. A second banana cream pie would have been nice...

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned though. To a woman, a guy winning a bet is like a tremor undetectable to the most sensitive of seismic equipment. It’s not really a big deal.

“‘I’m a Little Teapot?’ How about I wear a backpack with fake explosives and do it in Arabic in the middle of synagogue on Passover?”

But women are cruel like that. They toy with our emotions and monitor our happy meter; eventually all the little tremors build up into something catastrophic that blows up in our face:

“Wear that pink shirt, bitch.”

Or in my case earlier a few weeks ago,

“Stop being a wuss and lift up your arms so I can shave your pits.”

Yet another example of how a man’s misery can bring about a woman’s happiness.

Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore

Click here for more pics.

The Art of Storytelling

At my favorite place to go for lunch on a workday, the person at the register takes notice of the book I have in my hand and asks what I plan on reading in the sixty minutes I have to get my head off of work. “It’s Invisible Monsters,” I say, “the most fucked up book I have ever read.”

The person at the register grins and asks what the book is about. I tell him that it’s about the most fucked up story I have ever read. I tell him that it’s “Fucked up, man.” I tell him that the book is written by the guy who wrote the book Fight Club before it ever became a movie. I tell him, “And if you thought Fight Club was fucked up, you should check this book out.”

If Mr. Chuck Palahniuk was a porn star, he’d be Ron Jeremy. And Invisible Monsters would be his greatest fuck.

Jump to the next book in my reading queue, School for Stingers, recommended so much by two friends who took turns reading chapters to each other as bedtime stories, they decided to give me a brand new book free of Albani-Jew glue for my birthday.

From a fucked up book to a book of nothing but fucking, this is going to be interesting. While the cover of Invisible Monsters left something for people sitting next to me on the train wondering what the book was about, the busty chests on the cover of School for Stingers will have people doing more worrying than wondering if there’s anything else besides my monthly train pass I’ll be whipping out on the commute to or from work.

Jump to the next time I’m at my favorite place to go for lunch on a workday. The person at the register takes notice of the book I have in my hand and asks what I plan on reading in the sixty minutes I have to get my head off of work this time. “It’s The DaVinci Code,” I say, “the most heart pounding, fast moving, suspense thriller that will leave you breathing hard and gasping for air.”

Looking at my watch, I tell him that I’m actually a minute late today because I had to take care of something really quick.

I tell him, “No worries though, I’ve already got my head off of work.”

I tell him that the next fifty-nine minutes are going to be like the moment you leave work on a beautiful sunny Friday afternoon heading into a stress-free and worry-free weekend.

Nothing but pure relaxation.

I tell him to have a good rest of his day, and then I find a table for me to eat my lunch, and start reading my book with both hands clearly on the table for everyone to see.

During this post I Google'd: Venice Cafe, Chuck Palahniuk, School for Stingers, Perverts in Public

Push

One of my self mottos has always been “Push”.

The word itself has connotations of moving forward or making some type of progress, but if you actually look up the definition, there is so much more meaning:

- Ambitious drive
- To sell (another one of my mottos, “Sell or be sold” could be translated to “Push or be pushed”.)
- Strive to achieve a goal
- An effort to advance

“Push” defines who I am as a person. So it shouldn’t come as a surprise that for someone who is constantly looking forward, one of the things I don’t do a whole lot of is look back. I’m not saying I don’t enjoy doing it. I just don’t do it as much as I probably should. There comes a point in time in everyone’s life where one’s memories become more important than their dreams and aspirations. That certain point in time is called a mid-life crisis, and I’m still light years away from having one of those.

That being said, given how the day of my birth coincides with the celebration of Christ’s rebirth this year, I feel that now’s a good time to reflect and look back at the path that brought me to where I am today...

...You really thought I was going to just give you the story of my life? Sucker!

Happy Easter!

Here are a couple free notable quotes to live by:

“A true champion is not necessarily defined by how much they’re admired, but instead their ability to stand up in the face of adversity.”

“If you can dream it, you can do it, and there’s no better place than here and no better time than now.”

WrestleMania 22!

What a weekend! My voice is still hoarse and my body is constantly reminding me that getting less than ten hours of sleep in the last three days is not a good idea, but it was so totally worth it. If fate is on my side, I will do it again next year, this time in Detroit, Michigan – Ford Field.

Now for some notes:

- Holy shit! Holy shit!...Ringside seats, camera side, row 6...Holy shit! Holy shit!

- From what I remember, the people that I met came from: Boston, Detroit, San Francisco, St. Louis, Alabama, Tennessee, Oregon, Wisconsin, Texas, Indiana, Florida, Louisiana, New York, Ireland, Germany, England, Scotland, Australia, New Zealand.

- You know it’s time to go to bed when it’s two in the morning and you’re outside with an Australian and an Irishmen talking about being in a river with a crocodile, and an Englishmen who kept on shouting out, “Booze” and “Broads”.

- Hey Carl, you were right: people from Tennessee skip the middle syllables of any word that has more than two, speaking only the first and last (i.e. Shelbyville is Shelville).

- WrestleMania 22 set a record as it became the largest single day event in AllState Arena history, grossing more than $2.5 million. Glad to know that my $1,400 travel package, $60 jersey, $40 hooded jacket, $30 long sleeve t-shirt, two $25 short sleeve t-shirts, $20 program, $20 hat, $10 dog tag, and $5 ticket holder was all part of history in the making.

- When was the last time you shouted and screamed for joy? Seeing where I was sitting after a 402 day journey was a bittersweet ending. I felt like Frodo Baggins winning the WWE World Heavyweight Title.

- A few rows ahead were two people that kept on pissing people off because their Israeli flag was blocking people’s views. Why do “those people” always have to be in other people’s business? Dumb Jews...

- The WrestleMania 22 DVD comes out May 23. I figure since I was on TV, there's a good chance that I'll be on the DVD. If that's the case, I will be accepting bookings for autograph appearances shortly.



Click here for WrestleMania 22 album.

Eugene and Mickie James Autograph Signing

The question I asked Mickie James: So...is Trish a good kisser?

The question I should have asked Mickie James: So...what was it like having your head in Trish's crotch?

Perfect Timing

First off, fuck the House of Blues! They really need to state on their tickets that no cameras are allowed in their crappy venue. What exactly is the harm? They allow drinking so that people can walk out belligerent, and before Chicago’s smoking ban went into effect, they allowed smoking so that people can come out wreaking of cigarettes, but you can’t take pictures so that you can take your sentimental mementos home? I’m never going there again.

All in all, other then spending $30 on a ticket that I didn’t use and an extra $15 to cab me to and from that shithole, I still can’t complain. Everything happens for a reason, and I guess I wasn’t meant to be there. I know because I really was meant to go to the Triple H book signing instead...because I’m special…

After being rejected at the House of Blues, I somehow managed to take the train back to my car and drive to Blooming –bufu – dale in about 30 minutes. Getting to Tower Records was a little discouraging seeing as it was 10 minutes before Trips was to arrive and there were over 200 people waiting in line for his autograph. So much for the effort…

I decided to see if I can get into the store as a shopper to at least check out his book when out of nowhere a black limo - Triple H’s limo – comes right at me and almost hits me head on. While most people would have their life flash before their eyes, all I could think of was living out one of the storylines in the career mode of Raw vs. Smackdown (that should come as no surprise - I’m also the one who fell into an ice cold river screaming “Camera!” instead of screaming for help).

Knowing that Trips was now in the area, I ran into and then around the store frantically searching for his book. No book. Like a dumbass, I was searching in the CD section and then the DVD section when I asked myself out loud why Tower Records, a place that sells music and movies, is having a book signing when the friggin store doesn’t even sell books. Someone must have heard my thought because a cashier said that the books were up at the register.

I was going to leave the store to hopelessly wait in line just so I could get back into the store within the next two hours to meet the man who slept with the boss’s daughter and is still living and living well when a store employee said that all the people in the store would have to make way for Trips. I noticed that all the people that were in the store grouped together in what looked like a line so I joined them. Another employee headed toward the door and turned the latch – the store was locked down, no one could enter, but no one could leave either. I was going to meet Triple H…and I didn’t have to wait in line!

Trips walked into the store, did a quick interview, and started the book signing. The first person was a kid in a wheelchair with his parents. The next person in line was another kid, this time with downs syndrome, and was also with his parents. After realizing that the first two kids were “special,” I began to notice the 10 other people who were in front of me – they were either kids with disabilities or the parents of these kids. I also noticed that all of them were wearing green wristbands. To make matters worse, I was the only one not decked out in wrestling apparel, which made me stick out even more like a tall Asian Filipino.

When I finally got to Triple H, he shook my hand and gave me a funny look. It was like he was trying to figure out what was wrong with me, the thing that made me “special.” It didn’t take very much thought because as he was signing my book, the only thing I said to him was, “Hello Mr. H.” I felt really, really special at that moment.

Oh well, it beats having to wait in line for hours.

Tyson Tomko and Trevor Murdoch Autograph Signing

Candice Michelle Autograph Signing

WWE Diva, Godaddy girl and April 2006 Playboy cover person Candice Michelle at the Virgin Music autograph signing.

What WrestleMania Means to Me

In a way somewhat similar to how the television show “24” began each episode in their first season,

My name is Erwin, and this week will be one of the most memorable weeks of my life.

Like “24,” the twists, the turns, and the buildup that have occurred throughout the past WWE calendar year will finally reach its climax this Sunday in the pinnacle of professional sports entertainment…WrestleMania!

“Wrestling is fake. Wrestling is scripted. Why would you spend all that money to see that shit?”

Why? Because going to WrestleMania has been a childhood dream of mine since I was seven years old. To all you haters out there, when was the last time you had an opportunity to achieve something that you really wanted since you were a kid? I’ll tell it like it is: If everyone lived out their childhood dream, there’d be a hell of a lot more doctors and astronauts than there are today.

WrestleMania is where bitter feuds come to an end, while the seeds for even greater battles are being planted. In some cases, WrestleMania is where good finally triumphs and overcomes the obstacles that have been in its way. It took Hulk Hogan several tries to body slam Andre the Giant at WrestleMania III in Detroit, Michigan in 1987, and with every attempt that passed, all 90,000+ people in the Pontiac Silverdome were asking themselves whether or not the irresistible force could really defeat the immovable object.

Watching the body slam seen around the world on WGN news later that night, that’s when I knew I wanted to be there.

I had a chance to live out my childhood dream, going to my first WrestleMania four years ago in Seattle. It was an experience being in a baseball stadium with close to 50,000+ wrestling fans, many of whom die-hard like me. In the airports to and from Seattle, I met people from London, Germany, Australia and Japan. I met people from the States that lived out east in New York and out west in Hawaii. This Sunday, over 15,000 people from 16 countries and 41 states will pack the AllState Arena and more than 90 countries will watch the grand daddy of them all. How many single day events are out there that are truly global in nature? There’s only one that comes to mind: WrestleMania.





This WrestleMania will be just as memorable as my first but for completely different reasons. One, this year’s WrestleMania is in my home city, Chicago! Two, I’ll be sitting ringside! And three, when WrestleMania is finally upon us, the 402 day road to WrestleMania that began on February 24th, 2005 will come to a bittersweet end. Aside from getting married, I can’t think of another reason why anyone would countdown that number of days for anything else.

On that day, I know there will be a moment where I take a step back like I did at my first WrestleMania four years ago, and it’ll finally hit – I did it. I’m at WrestleMania!

I may not have the opportunity to main event for the world heavyweight title, but being there live and witnessing the matches between those who can is enough of a championship win for me.


We are all mortals. Our bodies, though strong, cannot defy time. One day, we will die... What matters most is the legacy we leave behind....

Did we become all that we are capable of becoming?

Did we make the difference we came here to make?

Did we pursue our dreams when all around us thought we were chasing illusions?

Only those who dare to rise are able to lift themselves above horizons...

Only those bold enough to chase dreams are the ones who catch them...

WrestleMania: The Showcase of the Immortals