August 30: Killer Kowalski
Wladek ‘Killer’ Kowlaski. Once named WWF World Tag Team Champion with the adult film-sounding Big John Studd.
He actually legally changed his name to Killer Kowalski in 1963, which would have made for some frightened bank tellers and doctor’s receptionists. In college he majored in electrical engineering, but opted for a career in the more glamorous field of pretend-beating the shit out of people in a ring.
Reports indicate that outside the ring he was incredibly friendly, polite and vegetarian. Inside the ring, though, he ripped some guy’s ear off.
He didn’t drink milk or alcohol, and was a bachelor until he was 80. He died two years later.
The guy lives 80 years without incident and dies just as he’s getting into the swing of married life? There must be some Al-Bundy-esque one liner in that.
September 10: The Shark Hunter
Frank Mundus, rumored to be the inspiration for Quint in the movie (and book) Jaws.
This guy was so fucking badass it actually makes our balls implode in a cloud of pink glitter.
He originally wanted to fish for bluefish. He decided that hunting twenty-pound sea creatures was a pussy’s game, and moved on to sharks. He once harpooned a 4,500 pounder. With a hand-held harpoon, none of this pansy-ass harpoon gun business. In 1986 he caught a 3,427 pound great white... with a rod and reel. Though some say he actually killed the whale the shark was feeding off, then fucked up the shark.
Also, he walked around wearing a slouch hat, a shark-tooth necklace, and a gold hoop earring. So basically, he looked like the pirate version of this:
You know what he was doing all summer of his 83rd birthday? Hanging out on his boat, making sharks wish they were never born, sandy-fleshed cowards they are. He returned home, and, deciding it was enough that generations of young shark folk would hear the ghost stories told in his honor, had a heart attack at Hawaii Airport.
Oh, and once he bought a dead whale to a New Jersey port. People weren’t cool with that.
Sharks now tremble in fear at the sight of a gold hoop earring, which is why they avoid suburban malls and time travel to the 1980s.