GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #565: GALLAGHER

 

So Gallagher died.

My first memory of him was when my stepfather and I would walk to Nu-Time Video, which is loooooong gone now. I preferred Video Magic, but I was stuck with Nu-Time because my stepfather didn't want to drive across town. He would let me get something first, and then he would plant me in front of a row of VHS tapes. "Stay here," he said. He then went through the batwing doors into the back room where they kept the pornos. It just so happened that the videos I was looking at were of Gallagher's specials.

Eventually I tried them out. I was probably seven or eight at the time. Who cares about the talking parts? I was there to watch him fuck shit up with the Sledge-O-Matic. I thoroughly enjoyed that shit. I wanted to be in the front row with no tarp to pull over me. I wanted to bathe in the glory of all that filth.

Fast forward a whole bunch of years. I'm pretty sure this was either during that stretch of 2020 when I was unemployed, or maybe it was during 2021 and I was on sick leave at work due to one of my bouts of pancreatitis. I remember because it was the middle of the week, and I wasn't worried about going to work the next day. Whichever it was, I was at a forest preserve reading when a friend texted me to say that Gallagher was going to be in Bolingbrook, and I should come hang out.

What the hell? Why not?

It's the place that Tailgators in the Zimventures is based on. If you have even rudimentary Google skills, you can probably figure it out what place it is. I remember showing up. I didn't have money, so my friend paid cover for me and got me a drink. And then Gallagher came out.

Whoo-boy. It did not take him long to get into the racist shit. There was standing room only at that point, and my leg was killing me, but even if I didn't have that bad leg, I probably would have made some excuse to get away from that mess. I took my drink outside to the porch, and my friends came with me. Instead of listening to that garbage, we just hung out and got drunk instead.

I heard he eventually got to the watermelon-bashing, but by then I didn't care about it. After he'd finished I heard someone bragging about how she got some watermelon almost in her pussy. To be fair, Bolingbrook is an area that is a bit more aligned with the idea of racist comedy, so the fact that he was cheered was not surprising.

On the way out I saw a sign advertising Gallagher's appearance that night. It proclaimed him to be a "living legend." I pointed this out to my friend and made a jerk off motion.

So yeah. Now he's a dead legend. Oh! And you might have been wondering why I killed Gallagher in this part and this part of Zim Air! Yeah, that's why.

And another thing. Gallagher came to that gig with the idea that people were going to boo him for being racist. No one did, but he had his comeback ready anyway. "Oh come on! I'm old!" Welp. Not anymore.

If someone mentions Gallagher to me, this is who I think of now.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #382: A VACATION FROM MYSELF

Last week I took a vacation from myself. Sometimes you need a break from being you all the time. I still read and watched my shows, but aside from that I did nothing else. I didn't even write. I would get home from work, do some reading, jerk off and maybe, just maybe, check emails. But not if it was too taxing. It was very relaxing. But I can't keep that sort of thing up. Time to get back to business as usual. Plus I got a lot of shit to do. Work backed up quite a bit, and that's OK. But it's time to start cleaning up the projects that have been sitting fallow. My splatter SF and splatter western novels, for example, have made the rounds and were roundly rejected. As I expected. That's fine. It frees me up to tell these stories the way I want to tell them as described in a previous GF column. Plus I have to get off the ground with a few other projects that have been kicking around in my head, and God help me, I have a new Zimventure to write that will probably torment me for the two or three weeks it'll take me to write. So all right. It's time to get back into the game. It's time to stomp the fucking terra. Our regularly scheduled programming is now returning. Pucker yer buttholes . . .

NOW LAUNCHING THE THIRD INSTALLMENT OF THE ZIMVENTURES!

I'm really quite proud of myself for this one. When I was a kid I was a huge fan of TV westerns (still am, in fact). In the back of my head, all of these years, was the idea that all of my favorites happened in the same world. It helped that most of them aired on CBS, so it was within the realm of possibility.


A few years ago I got to indulge this idea. I originally wrote the Zimventures to amuse those who know the real life Cris Zim. Now that I'm posting them, I finally get to share my dream project with a wider audience.


The third Zimventure happens in just such a world. I crossed-over the following western TV shows for this one: GUNSMOKE, WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE, HAVE GUN WILL TRAVEL, MAVERICK and RAWHIDE. It is populated by such wonderful characters as Matt Dillon, Paladin, Bret Maverick, Rowdy Yates, Josh Randall and many, many more. For those who might not like that kind of thing, I have thrown in a few more crossovers: BACK TO THE FUTURE, I COME IN PEACE, QUANTUM LEAP, ZARDOZ and IT'S ALWAYS SUNNY IN PHILADELPHIA. That's right. All of these properties crossed over into one Zimventure! And it's an epic! I'll try to post these every day. For now, here is the prologue.


PS: Here's my fantasy. It will never happen, of course, but in my heart of hearts, this is what I want to happen. I wish that someone important at CBS will read this and realize how well I know these old west characters. They will suddenly want me to relaunch all of these series, all interconnected, for TV. How awesome would that be? I don't expect that to happen, but it would be nice. Anyway, after the prologue we have 16 chapters and one interlude. I hope you enjoy!

NOW LAUNCHING . . . THE ZIMVENTURES!

Dear God, what the fuck am I doing? Have I finally lost my mind? I think I have. Join me as I bizarrely become, this late in my life, a writer of fanfiction. But not any old fanfiction. No sir. I'm writing a special brand.


There was this guy I used to know. He was an utter dirtbag, but he fascinated me. I tried everything in my power to destroy his will to live, but I failed each and every time. He didn't even notice. He didn't even notice it when I created a fake Facebook page for him, one that actually got my own profile shut down, and I had to prove I was me to get it reopened. Or the time I . . . fuck it. I'm just embarrassing myself. Suffice it to say, this asshole is a piece of shit (who, I hasten to mention, has been--rightly, I believe--accused of rape), and he deserved everything I ever flung at him.


The one thing I did that was really amusing for me was writing, for a group of friends, these stories about him getting involved in pop culture worlds. For example, in the first one this guy, who I have cunningly named Cris Zim to protect the guilty, reluctantly teams up with Angel Investigations in order to save the world. In another he joins Project Stargate. In yet another he travels back in time for the greatest western crossover in the history of the world, joining together the forces of GUNSMOKE, RAWHIDE, MAVERICK, WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE and HAVE GUN WILL TRAVEL. Along the way there are references to ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK, ZARDOZ, BILL AND TED, TERMINATOR, TREMORS and more.


It is my hope that you will join me in this madness that I've called The Zimventures. I posted the first handful of chapters at once because Angel and friends aren't mentioned until later in the story, and I didn't want to be accused of not fulfilling my promise to Angel fanfic readers to involve their hero. I don't know how often I will post new chapters, but I'll post about it on Facebook and Twitter, so if you follow me in either of those places, you'll be among the first to know.


The real life Zim will probably never find out about this, but I don't care. It's a lot of fun. Plus, waaaaaay later in the series, I explain what happened to Gil Favor and Chester Goode. So if you're a fan of westerns and ever wondered what happened to those characters (outside of Eric Fleming's death and Dennis Weaver's decision to move on, of course), then I am here to help.


I can't believe I'm posting this lunacy. Now I know how J. Robert Oppenheimer felt. Strap in, folks. This is either the stupidest thing I've ever done, or it's amazing. Let's find out together. Click here to begin the craziness.