Download Dusty: Reflections of Wrestling's American Dream by Howard Brody, Dusty Rhodes PDF

By Howard Brody, Dusty Rhodes

For over twenty years of professional wrestling, Dusty “the American Dream” Rhodes ruled the hoop. identified for his jaw-dropping antics and bone-crunching talents, Rhodes grew to become certainly one of wrestling’s first superstars. during this riveting narrative, Rhodes chronicles his trip via an plagued with political infighting, grasping promoters, damaging personalities, multi-millionaires, and nice leaders.

Show description

Read Online or Download Dusty: Reflections of Wrestling's American Dream PDF

Similar autobiography books

The Fry Chronicles: An Autobiography

13 years in the past, Moab is my Washpot, Stephen Fry's autobiography of his early years, was once released to rave stories and was once an immense bestseller. In these 13 years because, Stephen Fry has moved right into a thoroughly new stratosphere, either as a public determine, and a personal guy. Now he's not only a multi-award-winning comic and actor, but in addition an writer, director and presenter.

I, Mary MacLane

I, Mary MacLane--the follow-up to I wait for the Devil's Coming--available now from Melville apartment, with a foreword by means of Emily Gould

Fifteen years separate I watch for the Devil's Coming and Mary MacLane's follow-up memoir, I, Mary MacLane (1917). They have been years full of males and affairs, drink and debauchery, battle, friendship, and independence in big apple and Boston. That independence used to be lower brief by means of an ailment that introduced MacLane domestic to the loathed, provincial Butte, Montana, the place once more she took up her pen.

In I, Mary MacLane, the nationwide sensation instructed all, revealing the various salacious info of her flavor of freedom. As we now comprehend, although, the conflict for freedom had merely simply all started: if I look ahead to the Devil's Coming was once a rallying cry for younger women, I, Mary MacLane used to be a dispatch from front strains of early feminism. each web page speaks of the bravery of MacLane and her peers.

Just over a decade after I, Mary MacLane used to be released, its writer died less than mysterious conditions in Chicago, having sunk from sensation to obscurity. The e-book continues to be one of many final records we have now of her existence.

Laid Bare: One Man's Story of Sex, Love and Other Disorders

Profitable Sydney-based sportswriter Jesse Fink was once on the top of his expert profession while his spouse of 10 years left him and walked into the fingers of a brand new guy. in a single fell swoop he misplaced his ally, his soulmate, his relations, his identification. His wife's new lover even bought his puppy. What used to be a trip of emotional salvation, own reinvention and sexual adventuring that took him from considering slicing his wrists to slumbering with enormous quantities of girls.

The Tailor of Inverness

The Tailor of Inverness is a narrative of trips, of ways a boy who grew up on a farm in Galicia (Eastern Poland, now Western Ukraine) got here to be a tailor in Inverness. His lifestyles spanned many of the twentieth century. His tale isn't straight forward. He was once taken prisoner by way of the Soviets in 1939 and compelled to paintings east of the Urals, then freed in an amnesty after the German invasion of the Soviet Union in 1941.

Additional resources for Dusty: Reflections of Wrestling's American Dream

Sample text

For all autobiography is myth, like Death itself, in its deepest reality imaginary. <><><><><><><><><><><><> Like other Egyptian children, I walked among the ancient gods unseeing. Amon, Horus, Set, Hathor, Nu, Mut, Khnum, Anubis, Isis, Osiris: they all haunt the world's museums. In our house they lived only as carvings on lacquered chairs, replicas of Pharaonic thrones awkward to sit on. By their side, Turkish hassocks, Arabesque tables, copper trays engraved intricately with the Koran, and European art nouveau furnishings cluttered my imaginary space.

Throughout my childhood, there were familial quarrels and squabbles about money, marriage, land, children, friends, politics, anything that could inspire argument or indignation, or, for want of better, mere reproach. I suspect that my family, as a whole, lacked a certain inwardness, a certain privacy of vision, which Egyptian culture tends to begrudge. The Civil Service jobs that some held brought them more boredom than power. Their lands, tilled by distant ghosts, yielded revenues which my maternal uncles prodigally spent on green-eyed courtesans in Budapest, or at the green gaming tables of Monte Carlo.

I saw loyalty, endurance, skill, saw much pettiness and greed as well. I witnessed cruelty, the cruelty of men even to their retrievers. I came to love the acrid smell of gunpowder in empty shells, which I fitted on my fingers, blackening my nails. And I came to dislike captive animals, and to despise any beast domestic to man. In our park, a menagerie contained, at various times, monkeys, gazelles, foxes, hedgehogs, rabbits, hamsters, snakes, peacocks, pelicans, pigeons, ducks, and silkworms. But I lost interest in each soon after its imprisonment in shed or cage.

Download PDF sample

Rated 4.85 of 5 – based on 27 votes