"Your Master" Reggie Gold's Journal|
[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 12 most recent journal entries recorded in
"Your Master" Reggie Gold's LiveJournal:
|Friday, April 6th, 2007|
It has been almost three years since I have logged into this account. Three years of car crashes, three years of fighting, three years of fractures, cuts, bruises, whores and money.
After running an angle of start up.. in the last couple weeks of Jan and the beginning of Feb for my buddy Ricky Skitts in our home town, I took a week off to recover and then...
In March of 05 I went down to New Mexico to participate in a 4 on 4 cage match, teaming up with Jose Ose, "The Magic Maudlin" Arthur Kant and "Frisky" Pete Risk to take on The Caldonez Brothers and The New Lassos, Mitch Adum and Gomer "The Pyle" Hobbs managed by Bob Bolster. I was the surprise partner brought in by the former boss Kant to take out the new bosses Schnetacedy's prized friends. The federation was on the line. As I wasn't going to be sticking around since I had been booked to work in Madlin's fed in April since it'd been kicking Havoc's ass the minute it opened (who knew?), I took the fall to Calderon, which led to Kant attacking Bolster and I think they signed Kant and a mystery partner against The Original Lassos to settle the business. It's not me...
So in April of 2005 I began my two year and going run with Horizon Blood. First match out was against Sam Houston. Then a tag match against Houston and Dan Adams with Nick Hernshire as my partner. Then Houston, Dan and Tiger against me, Hernshire and the "debuting" Petey Risk. Then finally it was the rematch the fans wanted... Tiger Adams vs. Reggie Gold. We blew the roof off the place, then Jake Roberts showed up and tripped into the ring and the match was declared a double DQ as he got back up and tried to attack both of us.
Somehow the bastard sobered up enough to special referee a second re-match. It was amazing, we went through flaming tables, off the rafter, over Roberts and in the end I was crowned the first official champ of HBG.
With that I moved the wife down to NM and Grace Sellick as well to become my fulltime manager. So yeah... New Mexico has been awesome.
In 2006 both Caldonez brothers joined HBG, so to mess with their heads, I brought their sister back into wrestling. I also brought little Reggie Jr. (me and Ellen's kid) into an angle as well when he turned 4. Kids a natural.
Madlin got a little ancy in September-December of 2006, and with no money coming in for most of us a lot of guys went back to Havoc, some found construction work and other stuff in the meantime, so there was a full roster still.
Me, I took a trip over to Osaka, Japan and did my first fighting gig in like forever. A cool $250,000 for 2 nights of pit fighting. I wasn't exactly prepared though, so I've been nursing broken ribs, a concussion and fractured wrist. I was able to actually work a match with my old buddy Sparky, who made his debut at the end of February with this sexy Thai girl as his manager. She's a good little fighter too though, so to make things a little easier on me till I'm 100 % it was a mixed gender match with Grace on my end.
When I get back I start my "Road back to the title" to face Klaus Schuller.
|Monday, January 10th, 2005|
My wife is the best… because she lets me fuck who ever I want, whenever I want, and then when I get home, I can fuck her.
I don’t just fuck anyone though… only the women who I hire to like come to the ring with me and a few other female wrestlers and the occasional bartender and maybe some strippers.
The sex makes me a better fighter… I know that’s weird. Most folks have a no sex policy before athleticism, but I always perform better if I get it on before hand.
Like just earlier this week. I was going to be in an underground tourney for $500 a win. It was a round robin type thing with a bunch of just crazy lunatics. It was like an American version of the Kumite. Before hand I went down to a bar in the neighborhood. Oh, I was in Phoenix if you wondered. My usual stomping grounds when I’m not at home.
I found some really cute 22 year old. I got her sloshed. She was actually a wrestling fan. I didn’t have sex with her though. I took a blow job. No, I had sex with the bartender, Elisa, like I usually do. She’s a sweetheart. Really damn good.
That sex got me into a place to win $1500 that night. I ended up breaking one guys pelvis because he refused to tap out. Then he wouldn’t get knocked out, so I lifted and dropped him across my knee to just put him out commission. Idiots need to learn, it’s better to accept defeat because you were outfought then to actually lose because you got your ass handed to you like you were a bitch.
I’m looking forward to a couple well conceptualized wrestling shows in the next few weeks and then I’d love to get home and just sleep for awhile.
Right now though I’m gonna get totally wasted and take a drive.
|Saturday, January 8th, 2005|
|for the love of Damian
I recently heard that a fan of mine from Ohio, one Derek Milhouse has been wondering what the hell I’ve been up to.
I’m glad to say I’ve been wrestling all over these here United States of America defending Defiance’s good name and reputation. Oh, damn glam it, what I’m talking about, what reputation?
I’ve been drinking, fighting, crashing cards driving in lakes, climbing mountains, pissing on old ladies, hijacking planes and flying em to Tijuana deserts, getting fucked up on super shrooms and makes sweet love to a tortoise and nearly killing myself with Smith & Wesson on a cold night in Texas after I heard that damn Billy Ray Cyrus song for the 67th time in a shitty ass dive bar.
That wasn’t the best night, but a coupla nights later I’m over in New Mexico for this special show they called the
“Super Independents of Insanity 500”.
It was a hardcore event ala King of the Deathmatch and the like. Sixteen of the sickest, most insane men who compete in the squared circle across the plains were invited to be the shit out of each other for the enjoyment of folks who paid 7 bucks for pitchers of beer and 18 to sit in bleachers. I can’t believe the company, Horizon Bloody Grappling, who was putting together his first ever card, got 30 dollars a seat for front row.
The guy who runs it, his name is Rick Midlin, he used to be a music promoter for a bunch of really horrible Death Metal groups out the Van Nuys, CA area with names like Acid Snake Voodoo Priestess and Blacktonic Eradicator. He even tried to lead sing in one himself, but not only did he get laryngitis after one gig, the name was really uninspired; they were Midlin’s Minions. He got his ass basically ran out of town and than out of California. When he got to New Mexico, word had already reached of how much of a joke he seriously was. The thing is, Midlin’s a trust fund baby, a 25 million dollar trust fund baby, with tons of stocks and investments to let him have 50 unsuccessful bands, 15 rock clubs burn to the ground and a couple of guys die at one of his wrestling events and still be okay.
So on this first night, he gets all these guys in and then he calls in Jake Roberts to book this thing by PHONE from England. Jake calls him at around 3 PM, 4 hours before first bell ring and tells him
“Where’s my money?”
Midlin simply said “I sent it to you about two weeks ago and you still haven’t done anything yet!”
Jake said “Wire me money now”
Rick was flabbergasted “I paid you Jake, $5000, small bills, in an envelope”
“Oh, that was you? I thought that was just left by accident… I snorted all that up already, send me more.”
“Okay, I just sent you another $5000, check your mailbox tomorrow”
“Oh yeah? Cool”
“Now, tell me who’s working who and who wins?”
“Oh jeez… let me get started again…but don’t you dare ask for more money”
Or at least that’s how I heard how it went. Anways, the 16 guys in the in the tourney were as follows…
1. Tom Lowdry, Texas
2. Nick Hernshire, England
3. Mike "Manimal" Perkins, The Bronx
4. Thomas Hadj, Washington
5. Dan "Corkscrew" Adams, Tennessee
6. "Crazy" Manny, Ohio
7. Tiger Adams, Tennessee
8. Homer Robb, California
9. Dan Harris, Delaware
10. Adam Oblinger, Michigan
11. Pat “Pull My Finger” Multon, New Mexico
12. Ochiro Gayanashi, Osaka, Japan
13. Werner Baselminten, Hamburg, Germany
14. Klaus Von Schuller, the former Transylvania (it’s where hails from man)
15. The Caped Avenger, Parts Unknown
and myself, “Orange Demon” Reggie Gold.
They put me in round one with “Crazy” Manny… my dumb ass cousin. They actually wanted him to win, but I wasn’t going to have any of that. I mean really? Have you seen Manny Goldenring? (that’s our original name… my uncle kept it.) This kid who’s half Puerto Rican, is also one of the ugliest bastards ever. My pops got all the looks… and Manny’s mom had a mustache… thicker than the Boogie Woogie Man. Don’t get angry for calling my cousin a bastard, Uncle Jake left when Manny was only 7 months old, so he really is one. Jake got hit by a train while laying on the tracks taking a nap. Don’t ask me to explain further, I can’t.
Anyway, Manny may be hardcore, but he’s ugly, and he’s dumb and he hasn’t ever been a real fight like me. Hell, I TAUGHT Manny how to wrestle. So I went out there, cracked open his skull with a cheese grater, gave him a drop hold onto some thumbtacks and jacked his jaw for the win.
Rick was a little miffed, but when I told him how I once stole Jake’s coke and then dunked the piss Jake had just done into a bucket over him at a New Jersey show, he was fine and dandy.
That put me in round two with Hernshire. Midlin decided to book me to get in the ring Schiller and Adams in a three way after the Jake story. The original had Adams winning the whole thing.
Before the match I tossed some garlic at Klaus, and wouldn’t ya know it… the bastard didn’t burn. Oh well, a well placed Singaphore cane did the trick. After a quick trashing with a metal garbage can and dual chair shots from me and Tiger, that left the two of us. Then the Caped Avenger who’d lost in round 2 Homer Robb ran down to the ring with a lasso and attacked Tiger. I grabbed the Avenger and jacked him and then removed his silly ugly red mask. Wouldn’t ya know it, it was freaking Sam Houston. That damn Jake Roberts. While I was turned around taking care of Houston, Adams cracked a chair across my back and then got the win as planned.
Sam Houston then whipped his dick out and pissed all over me. That wasn’t cool. A practical joke is one thing, but forcing the audience to see that? Not cool at all… even though I whip my dick out all the time… but I got a sweet fucking schlong.
So I leaped to my feet and I gave Sam Houston probably the worst beating of his entire life. I didn’t leave him in a state for any serious hospitalization, but he’d be feeling that one for weeks.
Midlin paid me off and then gave me a bonus and said he wanted a rematch between me and Adams in two months.
We’ll see if he survives in the business that long. He did good his first night… but this industry can still eat up the strongest.
|Thursday, May 8th, 2003|
Many moons ago, okay a few months I entered a tournament and went through two rounds before having bicep busted and cut up. I was taken down hard and fast.
In round one I faced Giorgio Gogilini, he hailed from someplace in Italy, I don't really recall, I went in and speared him and knocked him out fairly quickly. Next up was this big guy from Miami, obviously a cokehead, called himself "Slippery" Sam Shindig, which was of course wasn't his real name. I knew this joker from some past experiences, and if I revealed his name he'd be sitting in some prison somewhere, but maybe not, I've alluded authorities so far. Anyway, kicked him square in the gut and grabbed his nose, made quick work of him. Then the trouble began. I got a stinger in my shoulder, no clue how. I rushed in trying to take out the third guy, little guy from Taiwan, he snapped me over and struck at my shoulder, which actually woke it up, but when I turned to blast him he tripped and my arm came crashing down upon the mat, the pain was amazing as the bone snapped in two. That was it for me. It was a good thing that we still got paid and the promoters actually covered my hospital bills.
I'm just starting to use the arm again, it hurts, but I can finally start doing things like push ups, rolls, etc. gearing to get back into the ring. I think I'm going to quit the fighting for a bit, find a good federation, make a deal, work some angles for a bit, that's my best bet. I haven't donned the Orange Demon costume since December 2002 in my match against Calderon in Burning Havoc down in New Mexico. That was the ending of a great angle. The Last Bastion, Calderon and I had won the feds tag titles in September from Bob Bolster and Ted Shenacdy, The Lassos, who had held the belts for over a year. Two weeks later, after Calderon and I had one successful title win over Mr. Smith and "Head Honcho" Arthur Kant, The Lassos lassoed me in the back, after I had been "knocked out". Calderon walks down to the ring, lies down, gets pinned and gets paid. So the week after where Calderon is doing an interview trying to say it's just business I come down to the ring with his sister, Ellen "Hellfire" Calderon, a top wrestler in the nationally syndicated FFL (Ferocious Fighting Ladies) hand in hand and I give her big smooch, pat her on the bottom, hand her $100 bucks and say into the microphone "It's just business!".
That set up a simple feud into a brutal one, ending with Ellen coming back with Calderon's little brother, Marco Caldonez, who works regularly in Puerto Rico, smashing a chair over Bastion's head and giving me the win with all three of us telling him "It's just business!". That led to Marco getting his first regular run in America against his brother Esteban and I had the worker to make it all happen. I also made something happen for Ellen and if me and the wife didn't have an agreement, I'd be in trouble.
|Friday, February 14th, 2003|
Defiance is so beautiful... all the woods and farm land and the rich history always makes me feel happy to have grown up here.
I crashed straight into this river or lake whatever it is once. You do not want to know how I was able to drive my car straight through a National Park. Let's just say, blood, blood, more blood and quite a bit alcohol. One day I will stop drunk driving... or not, it's pretty fun.
My fists are bruised, the knuckles mostly, but the rest of my body is close to the best it's been in awhile. I have spent every waking hour working out, only taking breaks to eat, go to the bathroom and maybe play with the kid. That is a workout in it's own way, because it keeps my speed up and if I can catch that kid while she runs around, I can catch anyone. Oh and sex, I've had lots of sex lately, me and the wife have been doing the wildest position, stretching my body beyond limits I didn't even know I had.
Why are my fists bruised then? That's from punching walls and punching bags bare knuckled, trying to get my fists into a sharpness so when I throw a jab or a right cross it will truly sting. My legs hurt a bit too, from all the kick drills. I have about 8 days left till this tournament starts. Next Saturday will be my day of rest. Then Sunday, I have to beat up 4 men if I want to win. I've heard of some of the folks involved in this thing. Great competition, it's going to be rough. Deb says she'll takes notes, since by them time it's all over my head may be out of it, but I'll also have the program and my memories whatever left there are after all the pounding.
I'm sure you're wondering why I'm even making an entry if I'm so busy training. Well, I landed on my balls doing a split leg roundhouse kick and now I'm sitting here in front of the computer with my testicles in a bucket of ice. I need to sit here for about a half hour, then I take a 15 minute hot bath and get back to the working out. This is giving me the opportunity to catch up on what's been going on in the world, I've been trying to avoid TV so I don't get distracted. I'm so glad I live in Ohio, I feel like I'm in another country out here.
|Tuesday, February 11th, 2003|
Let me take you back to Japan, 1995. I was 25 years old. I had been competing in my home country of America as a professional wrestler and mixed-martial artist for 4 years at this point. I wasn't making waves or anything, not that I am really making waves these days, I'm just comfortable in my being unknown.
In March of 1995 I took my first trip to that little island to compete in Fuijwara Hardcore Competition. Running mostly out of the main offices in Oita, FHC also ran shows in Kobe, Kyoto and Osaka. We never got close to running a show in Tokyo, but that doesn't mean I didn't find ways to get over there and check out to the Otaku. I was into hardcore Manga, Dujishiro, Anime, long before it ever became popular in the states. For some reason they wanted to make my name Japanese so instead of being simply "Orange Demon" Reggie Gold, an American Hardcore wrestler, I became Daidaiiro Akuma. Many times I was tossed out there and I didn't even know what I was in for completely. I knew who the winner was supposed to be and my opponent, but I had no clue what type of stipulation the match would have Would it be a barbwire match? Maybe I'd have to grab baseball bats with spikes on them. I always hated those exploding ring matches, who ever invented those needs to be stuck in a room with raging beavers.
I have very few memories from FHC, mostly because I seriously can't remember 3/4ths of what went down there. Too many blows to the head. I remember lots of the sex stuff though. I would go to Geisha houses a lot. I picked up lots of sadistic Japanese porn while I was down there, most of it I snuck back to America with me. Porn rules, especially Japanese porn, Asian woman are HOT!
I do remember this from FHC, I walked away alive, barely, but alive. I use the memories to help me train for every fight I've had since. If I could survive FHC, I could survive anything. Plus those bastards had the stupidest accountant, so I remember all the money I made working there, much more than I deserved or was signed for.
|Monday, February 10th, 2003|
I just got the news that Curt Hennig died. You know what I say to that? Good. I told my wife this exactly:
"Who gives a shit about him anyway? If its wasn't for talented wrestlers like thats bastard I wouldn't haves to be competing in real fights for a living!"
The wife came back at me saying that she has no clue why she ever married me in the first place. That woman was kidding of course.
She loves my career even more than me. She gets upset when I don't want to do a certain angle or wrestle a match with some guy she loves, even when we don't need the money and we don't. We're set up just fine here. Julie, our daughter has plenty of toys and food and everything. I would love to stay home and spend more time with her. I mean we're still living off the cash from my years in Japan, but no... the little woman, Deborah gives me this whole thing about that being Julie's college money. So once in awhile I have to travel out to Nebraska or Arizona or just up the road to Toledo or some such to fight some guy I don't care for and I'm worried will either hurt me on a screwed up suplex or get messed up because he can't take a simple a neckbreaker and usually the angles are just ridiculous. They don't even bear repeating.
Now Deb is yelling at me because she wants me to come eat some dinner and then she wants to help me do situps to train for the tourney, that woman is a taskmaster, I tell you.
So, even though I really couldn't care, I guess I'll wish condolences out to the Hennig family and anyone else he affected, I do know how much it hurts to lose someone you cared about (R.I.P Mindy Hambone), even if they were a no good son of a bitch.
They tossed me out of the hospital at around 5 AM when I started screaming about the guy in the bed next to me snoring. I made quite the ruckus, I think I may of ripped his IV out and smacked him before orderlies grabbed me. I put up quite the fight, knocked one of those green suit wearing bastards out with a mule kick, but they tackled me and tossed me right through the front door and my clothes came after me. I put those on and sat on a park bench for about an hour, till I remembered I had to go get my car and go to the meeting in Wisconsin.
I have been invited to be involved in a very special brawling tournament. I have been paid 1500 dollars just for agreeing to compete in the first round, which I feel is a bit high, but they have a feeling about me and this tournament, despite it being very underground and probably illegal, I think it may be being run by the Russian Mafia, you didn't hear me say that though. The more rounds I survive, the more money I will earn. It's 500 for round one, 1000 for round two, 2000 for round three, 5000 for round four and a smooth 10,000 pot for winning the tourney in a fifth and deciding round. I'm unsure of how many people are involved in this thing or what the rules are. It's two weeks away, which gives me plenty of time to train and heal. I'll probably be hanging out here in Defiance the whole time. Did I forget to mention I'm back home? Yeah. After being given 1500 dollars I took a bit of it and paid a company to drive my car back to my house and took a plane home. I haven't really checked how much I have left after that, but it's at least 800 dollars and that'll last me a good two weeks or more till the tourney.
Most of today I plan to make sure every single sliver of glass is out of my mouth. Then I'll sit in a hot bath with ointment on my arm and let the rest of the blood and puss ooze out of my leg and sleep. I haven't really slept in about 72 hours, so it is probably a good idea to get my body back to 100 percent before hitting the heavy bags and doing my weight training.
For now I believe I am going to throw one of those Swanson XXL meals in the microwave, nosh on the food and try and see if I can watch the tape Sparky gave me. If not, I'll just find some old copy of The Smurfs. The Smurfs would be fun right about now.
|Sunday, February 9th, 2003|
The hospital wants to keep me overnight, there was all this pus and some shrapnel in my leg, they also noticed how my gums were all cut up from the match I had Friday night. Also my arm is pretty cut up with rope burns from "Gay Mountie".
Luckily this hospital just happens to have a tiny library with internet connection set up and since I'm stuck here for observation I decided to sneak down to here. I was hoping being a hospital and stuff they'd have some hot anatomy books to look through, and boy was I right. They got some crazy stuff here and I was looking through it, getting hot from the nude pictures, since it's all I have to use for porn.
I remember when I was 12 years old and I first saw a porn film that made me really open my eyes. There was this girl in a barn and she was bent over sucking off what looked to be a guy maybe 75 years old and this woman with probably double D breasts walks in with a horse. The horse just gets up behind the girl and his horse wiener just slides inside her, stretches her whole. I was glued to the set, salivating, this was the hottest shit I think I had ever seen. That was until I got older and got my hands on some serious bestiality porn. I've seen dogs, giraffes, cows, cats, kangaroos, rhinos, monkeys, apes. Wild stuff and all of it has made me happy.
I was around 14 when I started to get into bondage, all that leather and chains, the whips. I was already into pro wrestling and violence and seeing it combined with sex. That was just the wildest thing. It wasn't too long till I had found my hands on an underground magazine and was able to mail order things like snuff. I never knew if these rape and murder films were real, but I got off on them. I still do today. Although once I helped an FBI investigation bring down a kiddie/bestiality porn ring, by posing as a customer under the auspices of the US government which is mainly why all the stuff I watch and buy still to this day is mostly overlooked, but I still need to be careful about who I talk to and what I order, there is a limit of what they will accept.
I hear some nurses walking around, I better try and sneak back up to my room before they notice I'm gone, I get to go home to Defiance in a day or two after making a stopover in Wisconsin to meet with some guys from a new underground mixed martial arts fed.
|Saturday, February 8th, 2003|
Sparky gave me the coolest thing, "400 Cums, 40 hours", it's this Japanese tape. I don't when I'm going to get to watch it, I hope it actually works on an American VCR, if not, I'll just watch it on my next tour. It's supposed to be this one chick, like this little tiny girl, 5 feet or something and only 98 pounds or maybe less, lying on this bed as seriously 400 men just cum all over her for 40 hours. That's some SERIOUS bukkake there, I wish I was one of the 400 guys. Hell, maybe I was, I remember some weird shit last time I was down on tour, there was this one time, maybe they filmed that for this. I don't know, if that is the fact, wish I remembered it. That'd be the shit if I'm watching it and then I go "Hey, that's my cock!".
The ride to Canada this time was wild. I never made it to one the parks, because I sat in Lake Superior for about 5 hours. Well, me and my car. Hahaha! yeah, I kind of crashed into this shallow part of the river when I got off the highway for my simple diving. I don't remember how I got out or how the car was able to still make the trip up across the border, but I did it and I showed up good to my match.
Man, "Gay Mountie" got me good. He actually sucked me off before our match, but as revenge for last time, he actually stopped and blue balled me. So all during our match I just wanted run back and jerk off. It got me pretty angry, I think I gave him some permanent damage to his right eye socket. I actually had no patience to run to the back and after that I didn't think it'd be a good idea for me to ever return to this fed, so I just whipped it out and came all over his face. I grabbed the mike and went off on him. I don't really remember much of the promo point for point, because the promoter loved it so much he got me piss ass drunk and then tried to hit me with his car before tossing $300 at me, but it went a little something like this.
"This son of a bitch, now he got a purty mouth, thas he do. Is real pretty, and when is wrapped around my manhood, is should finish me off, but nos, he's gots to run, so whats I do? I knocks him out and cracks his head open and breaks his eye and then spluge all over him, thas what I do. Yous don't like it? Too bad, I says, you can all sucks the Demon's dong, thas right, all yous! Man, frek this stuff, I wons, so I'm gone!"
I think I'm going to be kicked out of this library soon, that car scuffed my leg pretty bad and I'm bleeding from it. I'm going to head to an infirmary, I really hate doctors, but I don't feel like dying tonight.
|Friday, February 7th, 2003|
I'm sitting in an internet cafe in St. Paul, my mouth is cut up beyond belief and I still have some glass stuck between my teeth. They told me I really need to get to an emergency room, but I laughed, I wanted some coffee, I have to be in Ontario in a half a day or so and it's going to be quite the drive, well, it's only 300 miles, but have you people ever seen me drive?
I'm probably going to hang out in one of the National Parks for a bit, the trunk is full of some wild shit... and take a leap in Lake Superior. I better not take too much time though, cause I want to hit one of those underground magazine stores when I hit Canada, they have this new porn about cows I want to check out. Then it'll be off to face "Gay Mountie" in a bullrope match. He's angry at me for how last time I was up there I cummed really quickly in the back while he jerked before his match with Harley Boyd so he's going to probably knock my eye sockets in, but I'm gonna punch him back pretty hard and I'm scheduled to win, so he needs to be careful.
I better get going, I'm supposed to meet Sparky before I head out, he has a gift for me, I hope it's what I think it is.