:BONG:

RIP 6-3-94: LONG LIVE RING PSYCHOLOGY

It's over almost as quickly as it began. We knew deep in our hearts there was no way this much pro-wres journalism talent could be housed under one flimsy blogspot blog. Two weeks ago 6394 was made an offer it couldn't say no to and now all the straight acting bros of 6394 can be found over at RING PSYCHOLOGY while the other scrub ass dudes were sent packing.

Please join the 6394 gang (along with a few dudes who are hella serious about their grapz sports) over at RING PSYCHOLOGY. THE ONE TRUE BLOG FOR NEWS AND OPINIONZ4U ON HALF NAKED MEN FAKE FIGHTING AND ALSO HALF NAKED MEN FOR REAL FIGHTING (AKA MMA). ONE LOVE BOH BOH BOH.


RING PSYCHOLOGY

B. Brian Blair gets all Benoit on his sons.

Dave "Herb" Meltzer reports that former Killer Bee, B. Brian Blair got drunk & tried to murderlize his sons last weekend:

"Brian Blair, 52, spent Father’s Day in jail in Hillsborough County after a domestic dispute when he was arrested on charges that he punched both of his sons early in the morning....blah blah blah....The report said that Blair pushed his 17-year-old son Brett in the chest. According to the report, when his son tried to walk away, Brian punched him in the face with a closed fist, leaving a red mark that caused swelling, and then put him in a choke hold. Police deputies then said Blair let go of Brett and grabbed his 12-year-old son, Bradley, by the throat, and punched him on the top of his head, leaving a lump. When deputies arrived, they saw the bruising of both sons faces and they both said it was their father who did it."

Since this was so close to the two year anniversary of Benoit himself Benoiting his family, there's no word on whether or not this was some sort of weird tribute to the greatest Canadian grappler in pro wres history or if it was some kind of crazy coincidence...or just drunken horseplay. "Jumpin'" Jim Brunzell could not be reached, but I'm guessing he got some texts that night containing Blair's physical address.

Rest In Peace: Dusty Rhodes

Dusty Rhodes, a big-bellied, jive-talking heavyweight who was at his best on wrestling's biggest stage, died of cardiopulmonary arrest (aka Heart Punch) Wednesday at a Las Vegas hospital. He was old.
Rhodes, whose jive-talking promos was tailor-made for the racist south like Florida, never weighed less than 244 lbs. during seven major-level title reigns and had a career average of .253 elbow fortitude (due to calcium deposits from drinking unflourided waters from his plumber father's belief systems).
But in his first World title reign, in like the '80s, he delivered a reverse figure-four like right before the time limit, to turn the tide, and win a championship by beating the way more awesome and way more stylish and way less fat Ric "A Nature Boy" Flair.
Rhodes also won the title again a couple times, and maybe even before that with Harley Race, but fuck looking gay assed shit like that up. His multiple NWA World title reigns were the only ones by a huge fucking fat ass who talked funny ever.
Although the NWA World title is best remembered for "Whoo!" Ric Flair's great running catch phrase that he beat to death and now is on lottery tickets in North Carolina, it was Rhodes sequined Rollo-style hats (like Rollo on Sanford & Son) that proved to be most memorable. Yet, somehow the world is a faggot, and Rhodes got sent to the WWWF, where he wore polka dots with an ugly nigger bitch who couldn't sing like Sharon Jones.
The WWWF tried, but no other woman wanted Rhodes.
"I decided Rhodes couldn't wrestle or be original and I decided fuck it, let's make him a joke," the coked-up Vince McMahon, a Hall of Fame business-type dude who made the Forbes 500 list once, said after Rhodes' Pokadelick Adventure came to an end. "Get rid of him. He can't do nothing. He convinced me how wrong I was, like eventually, especially when I got his only son to dress up like some weirdo faggot and split up with his slut wife, who sucked my dick. But to be fair, she probably sucked Dusty's too."
But the WWWF wasn't Rhodes only brush with wrestling history. In Florida back in the day, he wrestled 300 men in one month.
The '82 year was his best; he had a career-high .341 bionic elbow index with 15 Florida title reigns and 50 World title shots in only 264 days of working.
In his autobiography, "Everybody Has a Price," McMahon called the buffet-loving Rhodes "the worst wrestler who ever wrestled in a Wrestlemania." But he also wrote that Rhodes' personality kept the locker room "confident and happy."
"He was a lovable guy. He was a party guy. He was just a good old boy," Kareem Muhammad, a cousin of Rhodes' wife, Gloria, said Thursday. "Did he live a hard life? Did he go out at night? Yes. But he was a good man. He was a Southern gentleman."
Virgil Runnels Rhodes was born on May 13, 1947, in Mathews, Ala., and grew up "dirt poor," according to Muhammad.
He joined the Navy shortly after his 19th birthday, seeing action on a warship in the jungle during the Vietnam conflict, then signed his first wrestling contract with Tennessee Championship Wrestling in 1968.
But he spent his entire most well-known time with the WWWF, where kids knew him as the funny fat dude in polka dots with that weird bump on his belly.
A product of the segregationist South who wrestled his first professional match the year that Abdullah the Butcher became the first African American wrestler to poke forks in white dudes, Rhodes was "color blind," former fellow boy in the back Ron Bass said.
"He was like a brother to all the black players, you know, like brutha," Bass told this bloggot. "He sure did like the good life, though, which would drive promoters crazy."
After his wrestling career ended, Rhodes returned to New York, where he worked doing all that bullshit that old wrestlers behind the scenes do to justify keep getting a paycheck even though they don't do shit anymore in a real sense. Road agents there wore their fanny packs at half mast in his memory Thursday, his family said.
Rhodes retired to Boca Raton, Fla., then to Henderson, Nev., with Gloria, his wife of 30 years.
"He loved wrestling. He loved his kids. He loved his wife," Muhammad said. "I don't know in what order. But he was a funny guy. He would tell you a story and you'd fall on the floor. And then he'd elbow drop you, except his elbow would miss and his belly stank and shaven armpit would wrap around your face."
Over the last two years, Rhodes battled heart problems, the diabeetus and emphysema (hence the wheezing), which resulted in frequent visits to hospital emergency rooms, Muhammad said.
He was on his way to a regular medical check-up when he bumped into Ox Baker at a sandwich shop and went into cardiopulmonary arrest, dying a few hours later at Valley Hospital Medical Center in Las Vegas, according to a spokeswoman for the Clark County coroner's office.
In addition to his wife, Rhodes' survivors include three children from a previous marriage; a sister (who once had ink thrown in her eyes); and 11 mostly illegitimate grandchildren.
A memorial service will be held Sunday at the David Funeral Home in Las Vegas, to be followed by a funeral and military burial Monday.

Breaking News: Japanese Fake Fighter SHOOK

To the surprise of absolutely nobody, Akitoshi Saito, the puro fake fighter who executed the famed the "Straw that Broke the Camel's Back" suplex is absolutely butt-shook over being the guy who finally pushed over the pro wres equivalent of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. From the new Observer:

The most vivid scene of the night was Saito, 43, who had to be talked out of announcing his retirement that day, getting on his hands and knees to a large framed photo of Misawa, crying and being apologetic. It was actually at that point when fans realized that Misawa died directly related to the move, as opposed to the possibility it was a heart attack suffered in the heat of battle.

We at 6-3-94, while still acknowledging the sheer faggotry of such a moment, would like to absolve Saito of his guilt. Come on, dude, be real. Misawa's neck was to the point where, if it hadn't been you, it would have been the Teacup Ride at Disneyland Japan. The guy was pretty much a Pez dispenser, and you should definitely not blame yourself. And if you absolutely need to apologize, don't fucking cry like a gay bitch (TM Benoit) in front of the last good photo Misawa had done at Glamourshots. WTF dude. Ox Baker killed a man with the heart punch and made a career off of it. Surely you can parlay this into something instead of contemplating retirement and weeping, Emily Dickinson.

I decided to watch TNA for some reason

The show opens with Mick Foley, followed by a clown, some large beaner looking dude and one of the Hebners (since we never really can tell which one is which on a count of them being TWINS). Mick then up and invites a bunch of people to the ring. Mick is wearing a leopard print shirt that looks as if it were cut out of the side of a thrift store couch. Jeff Jarrett comes out and looks none to pleased at Mick. Apparently AJ Styles is a champion of some sorts? The Legends Champ? Hmmm. Samoa Joe comes out wearing a shirt over his shoulders as opposed to his using it to cover his man tits. Mick announces the main event which happens to be a like 8 man cluster fuck and Samoa Joe punches him.

Raven is in the back with Daffney and some Stevie Richards looking dude. Is that Stevie Richards? No clue. Raven says he's going to have one of his Dr. Strangelove matches with some dude named Jethro. Color me intrigued! Raven seems to be back into fat Jim Morrison mode, which at this point is the only acceptable Raven.

Apparently Target outsourced his ass, so Shane Douglas has been attacking Daniels. Now we get DANIELS vs Amazing Red. Red is doing the STIFF LEG KICK offense that looks cool when it's not being done by a ginger midget. Red kicks Daniels in the face like a thousand times. Daniels responds like any normally sized man would respond to a child kicking him: He no sells it. Daniels wins somehow and then FRANCHISE SHANE DOUGLAS pops up on the Russotron and demands a second chance and accepts Daniels challenge! Apparently only one of them will have a job after that match! DRAMA!

Random shit backstage with some blonde ho, a large negress and some middle eastern looking chick. w/e

Matthew Morgan calls out Sting. He points out all the ways he's better than Sting, then says he didn't come out here to point out all the ways he's better than Sting. Counter productive, Matthew. Matthew says that he wants to gain respect and that Sting needs to give respect and then he challenges him to a match, I think? Sting then threatens to bite off Matthew's finger and accepts his challenge at Slamiversery and if Matthew wins he'll get Sting's spot in the Main Event Mafia. Whoa. Matthew tries to Pearl Harbor Sting and misses.

Jay Bee has Jeff Jarrett in the back. Jeff is ANGRY. Angry about MIC FOLEY. Apparently Mick is crazy and Jeffery is none too please about it!

Time for Raven's Full Metal Jacket match! OK, so Jethro= Trevor Murdoch and that really was Stevie. Jethro hits Raven with a trash can. The wall of weapons has a lot of cool shit and so Jethro grabs... a cookie sheet. Raven does the leg sweep into the guard rail spot, only much slower than usual. Raven grabs a chair and somehow ends up punching it. Jethro hits a knee to Raven and then kinda gently tosses him into the fence. Jethro dives into the cage which then falls to the ground so Raven gets the pin. Raven puts Jethro in the straight jacket and then the lobster A Chris comes out and Stevie, Raven and Daffney's tits decide to GTFO.

Dee Dubya is interviewing Samoa Joe and apparently Joe has been being ADVISED by someone. WHO CAN IT BE? TAZ? UMAGA? BETTY CROCKER? The possibilities are endless!

There is some babbling about some shit happening later and then some bitches say some bitchy stuff and then a commercial. Wait, iMPACT! is 2 hours now? When in the fuck did this happen? And Abyss talks now? WHAT IN THE FUCK!

So know there is a skank match that I have no interest in so I shall play mine sweeper in the mean time.

Team 3D are pissed off with Beer Money. And now we go to a commercial.

This Cody Deaner I've heard so much about appears to be a real hoot! Jay Lethal is still doing the Savage thing, so at least somethings in TNA never change. The Machine Guns are still kinda non threatening. Another commercial.

Beer Money and Team 3-D are having an adult oriented conversation about beer and money. James Storm made the fatal mistake of telling a black man to be his bitch. Negroes hate that shit. It's like the ultimate insult in their culture. I read that somewhere.

Jay Lethal and some Creed dude enter the ring and they look happy! They're going to be tagging with the Machine Guns who are the holders of some nip nong tag belts. Team 3-D and beer money brawl out to the ring. Daniels, I, uh, mean SUICIDE attacks the Guns. 3-D gets the win.

Joe and AJ are backstage and Joe PROMISES AJ that he has his back which leads me to believe that he does NOT have AJ's best interest in mind. Jesus Christ, this shit is long.

Gay Bee is talking to Mick Foley. Billy Gunn comes in and says something or rather. Dee Dubya and Tenay do the hard sell for the PPV. Now Gay Bee is talking to Kurt Angle. A 3 Doors Down Geico Caveman comercial airs, and honestly, it's kinda funny. Maybe it only seems funny compared to TNA.

Time for the main event 249233689832 man cluster fuck! This match is basically Joe, AJ, and a half dozen broken down guys. Angle reverses a Stroke into an ankle lock. Mick Foley decides to join the announce team, some other shit happens and then a commercial. Mick keeps shining Jeff on when he needs to make a tag. Is Jarrett a face? Jeff decks Foley. Joe hits the muscle buster on Angle and gets the win. Joe and AJ embrace! Joe really DID have AJ's back!

Fuck TNA so hard.

doot doot doot BREAKING STRONG STYLE NEWS

David Herbert Meltzer Jr is reporting that the death of Mitsuharu Misawa was, according to police and hospital workers, most definitely caused by a spinal cord injury and not a heart attack as first reported.

Above: artist's rendering

First that kid in Florida is murdered via power bomb, then Daniel Benoit, and now this. Clearly, congress has to do something about the rash of Strong Style killings. In a related note, Doctor Death Steve Williams, inventor of the "Homicide Backdrop," was quoted as saying "daaaaaamn."

TOO TOUGH TO DIE (NOT REALLY THOUGH)

Peace out homie. Thoughts AND prayers. Benoit finally has a worthy opponent in wrestler heaven now.

No justice in this world

Misawa, the man who was the very essence of work rate, dies in the ring. Meanwhile, Tommy Dreamer not only continues to live but is now holding the 15th most important belt in the pro wrestling world. Someone stop the planet, I want off.

Gabe

(At a the start of a ROH show Gabe makes a shocking return and slowly walks to the ring)

Ladies and Gentlemen,

"I'm only going to talk to you just for a minute or so this evening, because I have some -- some very sad news for all of you -- Could you lower those signs, please? -- I have some very sad news for all of you, and, I think, sad news for all of our fellow citizens, and people who love peace all over the world; and that is that Mitsuharu Misawa, one of the greatest pro wrestlers of all-time, was declared dead at 10:10 p.m. Saturday night at a hospital in Hiroshima from an apparent heart attack after being being given a back suplex in a tag team title match
Mitsuharu Misawa, dedicated his life to love and to justice between fellow human beings. He died in the cause of that effort. In this difficult day, in this difficult time for the world, it's perhaps well to ask what kind of a world we are and what direction we want to move in. For those of you who have fighting spirit -- considering the evidence evidently is that there were people with no fighting spirit" who were responsible -- you can be filled with bitterness, and with hatred, and a desire for revenge.

We can move in that direction as a IWC, in greater polarization -- fighting spirit people amongst fighting spirit, and sports entertainment amongst whites, filled with hatred toward one another. Or we can make an effort, as Mitsuharu Misawa, did, to understand, and to comprehend, and replace that violence with more workrate related violence, that stain of bloodshed that has spread across our land, with an effort to understand, compassion, and love.

For those of you who are puro nerds and are tempted to fill with -- be filled with hatred and mistrust of the injustice of such an act, against all people, I would only say that I can also feel in my own heart the same kind of feeling. I had a member of my family killed, but he was killed by a sports entertainment man.

But we have to make an effort in the Wrestling World. We have to make an effort to understand, to get beyond, or go beyond these rather difficult times.

My favorite poem, my -- my favorite poet was Aeschylus. And he once wrote:

Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget
falls drop by drop upon the heart,
until, in our own despair,
against our will,
comes wisdom
through the awful grace of God.

What we need in the IWC is not division; what we need in the IWC is not hatred; what we need in the IWC is not violence and lawlessness, but violence and lawlessness with that are more physiological

So I ask you tonight to return home, to say a prayer for the family of Mitsuharu Misawa, -- yeah, it's true -- but more importantly to say a prayer for our own IWC, which all of us love -- a prayer for understanding and that compassion of which I spoke.

We can do well in this IWC. We will have difficult times. We've had difficult times in the past, but we -- and we will have difficult times in the future. It is not the end of violence; it is not the end of lawlessness; and it's not the end of disorder.

But the vast majority of Puro people and the vast majority of sports entertainment people in this country want to live together, want to improve the quality of our life, and want justice for all human beings that abide in our land.

And let's dedicate ourselves to what the Greeks wrote so many years ago: to tame the savageness of man and make gentle the life of this world. Let us dedicate ourselves to that, and say a prayer for our country and for our people.

Thank you very much."

BREAKING NEWS: ESPN TO ANNOUNCE NEW SPORTSCENTER ANCHORS

Sources tell 6-3-94 that ESPN plans to unveil indy-wres money-mark (and cheeseburger enthusiast) Jim "Fanzo" Fannin and his main squeeze Stacy "Staxx" Wisslead as the next co-anchors of its flagship sports news show, Sportscenter.

The announcement, expected to be made official early in the week, has many industry insiders scratching their heads, as Fanzo's presence makes a collision between him and the network's resident fat asshole, Chris Berman, almost inevitable. About the likely competition with Berman, Fannin was heard to ramble on and on about Jimmy Jacobs and barbed wire baseball bats and New Jack, but honestly nobody cared to listen to that internet tough guy shit.

Fannin doesn't have much of a history in broadcasting (or in being employed, for that matter), but he has been the on-again/off-again voice of IWA Mid-South for years, basically sitting at the play-by-play table when the boys in the back run out of ribs to play on him. His commentary is recognizable for his endless anecdotes about "the old K-Mart building in Louisville" and getting roughed up by Bull Pain, but it remains to be seen if those familiar talking points (and references to his own personal money mark, Grandma Fannin) will be brought to the Sportscenter desk.

While Fanzo is likely to froth at the mouth about queers and foreigners, in between wistfully recalling the glory days of his two-burgers-a-day diet (never forget) and arguing for Ron Santo's inclusion in Cooperstown, Staxx' role on the program is less clear, but most speculate it will include a lot of smiling, shutting the fuck up, and silently wondering where it all went wrong.

Though the pair's start date is still up in the air, it's expected to come soon enough that Ian can use Fanzo's first paycheck to run the first annual Playboy Buddy Rose Memorial Fat Fuck Death Tournament, in which Fanzo is a rumored participant.

Impact why have you come to haunt me

So for whatever reason I'm gonna maybe watch Impact here and review it.
Impact for once starts with a wrestling match! The Amazing Red used to wear stuff that was like Hot Topic clearance shelf items and now he wears real wrestling stuff but he's also about as tall as US Olympian Shawn Johnson and so no one is impressed. Suicide beats the Amazing Red in an amazing fashion. Amazing!
Sssssssssssssssssting is the new king of the world and he fires the chicks which is awesome. Everyone fire a chick right now.
Oh you know what? No.

Another Impact Review

Mike and I thought it would be cool if we both reviewed Impact because we're the dumbest guys in the world.
I missed the opening segment because I was eating dinner. Anyway there's this triple threat tag team match which is weird because the team of The Black Guys gets no offense or even uhhh... defense or whatever in this match. The Pop Punk Dudes beat on Christopher Daniels for a while and I was watching Rachel Maddow earlier and there was footage of the White Knight Riots when Harvey Milk's assassin only got manslaughter and Daniels looks exactly like those rioting gay men of 30 years ago. RIP Harvey. Suicide wins and that makes Daniels mad for some reason but then Suicide uses his magic to DISAPPEAR!
Kurt Angle petitions an empty sky~
Sting talks about how he wrestles because it speaks to his soul or some shit. Blah blah blah Jesus fag blah blah.
Then the awesomest thing which is Booker T and Kevin Nash practicing in the ring! So they're just kicking each other and then periodically they're like YEAH SUCKERS! or whatever. It was one of the weirdest things I've ever seen on TNA and literally everything in TNA is really weird.
Uh.. Huh. So the Dudleys are out and are like WE LOVE TAG TEAM WRESTLING! (Idea for D'von heel turn: "I have ALWAYS hated tag team wrestling!") So they're saying some shit when the British guys come out and I've never seen them before but one of them is sort of fat and small, one is pretty normal for a wrestler, and one is fairly gigantic. That's a good stable. I thought one of them was supposed to be a gladiator but apparently not. Anyway they beat up the Dudley Boyz until Beer Money comes out. I remember when Beer Money was fake friends with the Dudley Boyz and then it turned out to ALL BE A LIE! But apparently this time it's FOR REAL!
Eric Young gets yelled at for being a damn idiot.
Then Eric Young has to wrestle Sting and he's sort of like "uuhhhhhhh" or whatever. He takes some Ric Flair style bumps and then decides to kill himself a little bit flying over the top rope to the outside and then gets put in the sharpshooter thing for the tap. He looks decidedly butthurt as the camera cuts to the skinny blond chick that's the champ. She is WALKING!
So Jim Cornette presides over the contract signing between the blond chick and good old Awesome Kong. The blond chick cuts a pretty awesome promo but her alleged high class lifestyle is betrayed by her extreme white trash tattoos. Awesome Kong is so mad about whatever the hell that she kills REFEREE RUDY CHARLES who looks like a pudgy little baby.
The concerned blond chick and Abyss are at Doctor Stevie's office. Apparently Doctor Stevie is a real ass doctor since he has an office. The blond chick (the concerned one) tells Abyss that sorority sisters are a bond that can never be broken. I have no fucking clue what that was about but I loved it. The concerned blond chick is really coming into her own. This is my favorite thing TNA has done ever/
I think AJ Styles is saying something but I'm in the other room right now because I'm checking my facebook. Facebook rules. Does AJ Styles have a facebook? Let's find out.
He doesn't waaah.
Then a commercial airs for www.grandprixwrestling.com which is apparently a wrestling group that is around my area! And they are accepting trainees! Maybe I should forget about this judo rigmarole and get in on the fake fighting train. I am very excited about this. For too long this shitty nowhere town I live in has been bereft of indie wres.
Matt Morgan is going to wrestle Kurt Angle and he's so much stronger! So much bigger! Commercial! Kurt Angle wins but it's a hard fought match and he has earned new respect for this big ass idiot.
The concerned chick remains powerful concerned, this time for Jeff Jarrett because he has to fight Samoa Joe who is just a big fat emo murderer these days.
Samoa Joe beats up Jeff Jarrett so much that he then also beats up the referee and it's over. Then AJ Styles is mad I guess so he comes out to fight with Samoa Joe. So Joe and AJ have beef but they are both fighting dudes in the Main Event Mafia at the pay per view so they're both uhhhhhhhh faces? I shouldn't even worry about it.
The main event is Mick Foley versus a cardboard cutout of Rocky and he wins but he takes some punishment from Rocky's punches first. That's because Mick is a fucking pro. Then he wins and is happy but Jeff Jarrett has recovered from being killed by Samoa Joe enough to be like "Come on dude!" and then everyone fights everyone but Mick Foley comes out ahead.
This was literally the best Impact of all time.

TNA 5-21: THE RETURN OF CONTRIBUTOR IV

So I am back after moving to review TNA for the very first time on this blog. Well I reviewed a PPV but that doesn't count.

So this thing starts off with a Mick Foley, Jeff Jarrett montage and I quickly realize I have lost all knowledge of wrestling I sponged in those 3 glorious weeks (Known as 6394's Attitude Era) I was involved with blogging here, replacing all of that important wrestling knowledge with memorizations of Subway systems, so all of this is new to me again. This is a concern because I already thought TNA was the most confusing show on TV, and I am also super high off of fancy weed which is making everything even MORE hard to follow.

I guess this montage is because Jarrett & Foley hate each other, but oh good, we are starting TNA off with Jarrett blabbing in the ring about Foley and then Foley comes out and he's a legit bad guy again, and THEN jarrett is like "Im gonna be in the Sacrifice match" and foley is like "BUT WHAT WILL YOU SACRIFICE HOW ABOUT YOUR SHARES OF TNA???" And Jarrett is like "ok", and I don't fucking understand this Sacrifice match. So is it whoever gets pinned has to sacrifice some shit? Fuck it who cares, this is all giving me a panic attack.

Ok so then Foley is like WELL IM GONNA MAKE SOME MATCHES and he says a bunch of things that go over my head, then he says something about Samoa Joe and his NATION OF VIOLENCE and I have no idea what that means but I am fucking pumped to find out. Finally before the commercial break there is a skit with Angle backstage and it was all like FUCKYEAHDUDEBLAHABAABAHSH and something about a Frenzy (????) match. and my head is fucking exploding. Oh good. commercials.

We are back & catching up with the WHO IS SUICIDE IS IT CHRIS DANIELS thing, and it looks like it's not Chris Daniels, but who fucking cares if it was Chris Daniels? Would that give him some kind of unfair advantage? WHY DOES ANYONE GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THIS.
But now both Daniels and Suicide are being interviewed at the same time and they're gonna fight at the PPV, but tonight they are bros in a match.

Lethal Consequences vs Machine Guns vs vs Daniels/Suicide: This was mostly too confusing for me and they're stil talking about the mystery of Suicide. Shuuuuut the Fuccccccckkkkkkkk Uppppppp. So yeah, moves, moves, moves and then Daniels does this crazy ass moonsault plancha and for a second I'm PUMPED, but then Suicide wins with a move. COMMERCIAL.

Back from commercial and literally nothing of interest happens except they show booker T and Kevin Nash training for...something and it is very homoerotic. COMMERCIAL.

The Dudleys are giving a spirited speech about tag team wrestling and apparently they started some kind of Tag Team Invitiational tournmanet and whaaaaaat the fuuuuuck?? How are you just gonna make an Invitational Tournament?? That is not a thing everyone has the power to do. So the Dudleys are beefing with THE BRITISH INVASION and I have no clue who these guys are. They all look like British dudes, so maybe one is Nigel Mcguiness. Now they are talking back and forth and the Dudleys cant fuckin handle it so they throw dem bo's but THE BRITISH INVASION have a giant Biritsh Strongman, so they are now fucking the fuck up the Dudleys. NO WAIT, BEER MONEY is out!! Who are they!!! Some guys!!! THE BRITISH INVASION are scared of these dudes and I think their ring music is Livin on a Prayer or maybe I just smoked angel dust. Holy shit thank god this segment is over. It's only 9:45

OH SHIT NOW JARRETT AND ERIC YOUNG ARE BEEFIN BACKSTAGE. They are ironing out their problems like bros though. No reason to throw down. Oh it turns out Micke Foley has to fight Eric Young. Cool! COMMERCIAL THANK GOD.

Oh Kurt Angle was looking for Sting...and he found him! They are kind of beefing I think. I don't think it's gonna come to blows though. They are just yelling like an old married couple. I think they might hug it out, bitch. They do!

Oh now Eric Young vs. Sting. I guess I was confused earlier when I said he had to fight Mick Foley. I can't keep up with this shit man, I'm sorry. Is this seriously only the 2nd match? I feel like so much shit has happened. Oh, so I guess Eric Young and Sting are tight bros from way back and this is heartbreaking for the both of them. It's heartbreaking for me too. Man the sound got all weird for a second and you could only hear 6 people clapping. Maybe I AM on angel dust, or maybe only 6 people give a shit about this match? Oh, Eric Young taps to Sting's Sharpshooter. NEXT ON IMPACT: AWESOME KONG ANGELA LOVE CONTRACT SIGNING!!

Borash is gonna send insider knowledge to your mobile phone. Now he's about to chat up Mick Foley to find out what former heavyweight champion Foley is gonna fight tonight. I hope it's Gillberg. IT HAS TO BE GILLBERG. Borash and Foley are doing some kind of abott and costello bullsquid. SEGMENT OVER.

There is a SERIOUS Awesome Kong montage. It was pretty dope. Now it's time for the CONTRACT SIGNING. DUN DUN. Fat Jim Cornette is out to....officiate (???) the contract signing (I guess). Angela Love is one of the most porn star looking lady wrestlers ever. She is bringing security with her because she is beefing with Awesome King pretty hardcore. Cornette is telling the security to back the fuck off because it ain't that kind of party. Awesome Kong is out with the ninja. The Ninja gets to stay in the ring. That doesn't seem fair. They sign the contract and now the porno bitch is talking waaaaaay too fucking much and then Kng tries to smash the fuck out of her but some ref tries to stop her and she smashes the fuck out of that dude instead THROUGH A TABLE! Only 53 more minutes of this bullshit.

Hey let's skip a segment because it's just talking anyway, and I am trying to enjoy eating.

00hhhhh g0d more talking. Matt Morgan wants to join the Main Event Mafia So he is fighting Kurt Angle RIGHT NOW. Oh man Kurt Angle is definitely not taking wrestler vitamins anymore, but it looks like Matt Morgan is still taking a few. Matt Morgan appears to have a Jack O Lantern face tattooes on his back or something. They do some moves and then Morgan tries to go for the HELLAVATOR which is hte best name for a move, but Angle reverses it into a rollup and wins!

Now we are talking to Jeff Jarrett backstage and FUCK WHEN WILL THIS SHIT END. (in 25 minutes).

I think this is the main event now! Samoa Joe vs. Jeff Jarrett! It turns out Samoa Joe's Nation of Violence is just him and his towel. Booo. Samoa Joe fucks shit up as if he were an actual monster and not some morbidly obese dude with creepy flab and muscle pants. Joe gets DQd for fucking too much shit up and now AJ Styles and Samoa Joe are beefing because Joe is too pumped, or maybe because AJ has hamburgers in his pocket. So I guess this wasn't the main event. Fuuuuuuuuck. COMMERCIAL. 14 more minutes!

Oh that's right, I forgot the main event is supposed to be Mick Foley vs. Gillberg. FINALLY. Oh no, it's not Gillberg. It's a carboard cutout of Rocky Balboa!! He's coming to the ring with a Mickie lookalike and Don West is losing his shit and acting as if Rocky Balboa was real and then Mike Tenay tells Don West to STFU and HOLY SHIT!!! The crowd is chanting ROCKY ROCKY!!! Foley is having a real match with the cardboard Rocky. THIS IS AMAZING!! CLAP CLAP CLAP!! Foley beats Rocky with an elbow and then does like a mashup of Rocky speeches and MICK FOLEY IS SO FUCKING GREAT!!! Jeff Jarrett hates fun and comes out to beat the shit out of Mick Foley because he's a fucking cocksucker, but then Agnle comes out because he appreciates Foley's brand of comedy and he wrecks Jarrett. Then Sting comes out to try and stop the beef but Foley fucks HIM up. Finally Foley fucks Jarrett up too. THE END. Please just watch the last 10 minutes of this bullshit ass show. Fuck this never again am I watching this horrible snot.

I didn't watch Raw, but I'll review it anyway

It's been established here that Raw is pretty much worthless right now. I don't think dragging aging attention whore Ric Flair out of mothballs will help things. Can't Flair get his attention fix the same way every other soccer mom and nerdy douchebag out there does (Facebook)? Anyway, right around 9pm last night, I dialed up my DVR and watched The History Channel's excellent Life After People series. It was a mighty fine hour speculating what would happen to some cities if all human beings were suddenly wiped off the planet. There's probably a joke in there about how WWE would go on, since Vince McMahon isn't really a human being, but that's snarky, hacky humor and pretty weak, to boot. Oh hey, how about this:

SIX MONTHS AFTER PEOPLE:

MIKE SWEETSER'S PORN COLLECTION AND TRANSFORMERS DOLLS START TO DETERIORATE. WITHOUT SWEETSER AROUND TO LOVINGLY WIPE HIS SEMEN FROM THEM, HIS RANCID SMEGMA BEGINS TO BREAK DOWN THE PLASTIC AND METALS. NOT EVEN UNICRON CAN WITHSTAND THE CAUSTIC FURY OF MIKE SWEETSTER'S JISM.

So yeah, I didn't watch Raw at all. I'll probably fast forward to any possible good parts later this week and maybe that'll take 10 minutes. Or I'll just delete it, sight unseen after I pull up the DVR menu like on Thursday and see it sitting there. I wrote the headline to this story with the intent or reading the recap over at WOL and summarizing the show with some witty quips here and there, but FUCK. Just reading about the program that was is tedious. I give up. ECW is on tonight, and apparently Harry Smith, who is less of a fuckup than Reid Flair, wrestles Fit Finlay and that should be above average. I'd recommend checking that out. Also, go find the Youtube video that the picture on the left came from. It's an awesome, life-affirming story and a better expenditure of your time than Raw. There's more to life than arguing the number of stars Shawn Michaels vs Undertaker should get (for future reference, it's ****1/4).

So yeah, skip Raw, DVR Life After People and ECW, check out those ducks, and go read Total MMA by Jonathan Snowden. All are better than Raw. Gracias.

Bits and Pieces

Hey, that was the title of a column in Hustler...if it was good enough for a 12 year old lad trying to find his way in a strange new world of full-spread beaver shots and incredibly racist cartoons, it's good enough for you.

I saw The Wrestler, finally. Shit, that was really, really good. How Mickey Rourke didn't get the Oscar can only be attributed to the Gay Conspiracy, or the fact that he would undoubtedly sully the Academy's good name by fake fighting Chris Jericho.

I recall a friend I had a s a kid telling me that Sean Penn always looked like he was about to sneeze, which was hilarious. And accurate.

Anyway, The parallels of a wrestler and a stripper as both being used up whores abusing their bodies to sell fantasy to fat, disgusting virgins while secretly aching to leave DA BIZNESS was awesome and pathetic and beautiful. Speaking of fat, gross virgins, I could have lived without seeing Paul Sisnowski (SHOOT NAMES) on my TV screen on a Sunday night. Man, fuck you, you fucking slob. I guess I should count myself lucky that the camera avoided Jim Fannin's smug, vaugely Asian, lard-stuffed fat fucking visage during the CZW segments of the movie.

So yeah, my point is that The Wrestler is some poignant, great shit. If you somehow avoided seeing it longer than I did, check it out, brother. Also, you get to see Marissa Tomei's RUUUUUUUDE TITTAYS.

All this talk of aging attention whores looking for a comeback leads me to...

Ric Flair wants to wrestle again. Yeah, and the sun sets in the west. This is the least shocking wrestling story of the year. Christ, how pathetic. The guy is leaving frantic voicemails on Johnny Ace's machine offering to come out of retirement and wrestle again, like Marissa Tomei's aging stripper pathetically angling for some college mooks to let her rub her ginch on them for a few bucks. Unreal. This old fucker is seriously delusional. He's been quoted as saying that he feels better than he did when he retired. Well yeah, a year off will do that for you. Especially a year off without any kind of drug testing. Here's a better idea, Naitch: work on your family and maybe try to help the kid you were never around for get off smack. DO YOU EVEN KNOW HIS BIRTHDAYYYYYY? Fuck, man, fuck.

Nobody is updating this site. After the loss of Mike Dikk to real, gainful employment, it's been pretty much the Andrewbulous show. I'll do what I can, but come on dudes, little help here.

Dave Meltzer shoots on Scott Keith. Regarding the "Fall of WCW" DVD, America's preeminent fake fighting scribe wrote, "Their knowledge of WCW history appeared to be scouring the Internet and reading Scott Keith-level historical material." Sure, picking on Scooter is as easy as punching a retarded kid (actually, that's not much of a metaphor, since Netcop does look a little downsy), but it's still pretty fucking funny. Meltzer, since getting some Fuck You Money from yahoo, just don't give a fuck. It's tremendous. Next, he'll drive to Keith's house and ass fuck that beast that appears to be growing out of SK's shoulder, while Scott weeps. And masturbates. While weeping.

Raw not really worth watching. Damn, Smackdown, Superstars, and ECW all had some great wrestling last week. Raw has been shit for a while, and you might as well get to bed early for work the next day like I did. Unless you're like the aforementioned Green Lantern Fan or 90% of the people who watch this garbage and don't have a job and your plans for tomorrow are to waddle down to Gamestop and hit BK or Hardee's for a Monster Thickburger (hi Dean!) on the way home or whatever.

Anyway, thanks for reading, my dudes. That's all for right now. So long from The Sunshine State. More later, maybe.

GAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH

I missed the first whatever many minutes of Raw because who cares. So let's pick up from here!
Batista is wrestling Orton's nerds and then because Batista is really dumb, he gets caught by the referee with a cage and gets in trouble for it. ;_;
Maryse is out being awesome, saying some shit in french and then she says "If I wasn't Maryse.... I'd want to be!" which is the best catchphrase ever. She is teaming with whoever against Mickey James and whoever and Mickey James wins and the world is horrible.
Umm, I don't remember. Chavo tricked Vickie and then Michael Cole and the King were in the ring to talk about the pay per view which was very strange.
I missed Carlito versus Brian Kendrick because I was taking the garbage out to the curb but presumably Carlito won. Apparently Ted Dibiase Jr has been beat up badly. I don't know.
The Big Show has come out to witness the EXHIBITION MATCH between the Miz and John Cena. Who even knows what that means. I guess I will find out. brb!
Okay this was awesome actually because the Miz sort of beat up on Cena for a while, then Cena was making his come back and Vickie comes on the big screen and is like CENA YOU CAN'T POSSIBLY WIN THIS MATCH IS OVER! and Miz DDTed Cena and then walked away all triumphant.
Randy Orton told Cody Rhodes that he needs to beat up Batista. "You got this," he said to Cody. My guess is that Cody Rhodes does not got this.
Santina is wacky or whatever, I don't know. I can't say I was even in the room for that. I'm sorry. I'm really bad at my job. Todd Martin........... forgive me.
Cody Rhodes proved once and for all that he did not got this as Batista kills him and throws him into the roid cave where presumably he teaches Cody how to gain muscle mass.
Santina beat Beth Phoenix and a lot of fake laughter came from the announcers.
Some midcard crap happens here with MVP and Regal and whatever.
Oh god listen... This show was just brutally boring and I so don't care to finish this recap. Raw sucks so bad right now, nothing interesting happens ever. At least in Impact, you know something really stupid is going to happen. What a worthless fucking show.

Pro-Wres Porn Lookalikes: #1

Captain Lou Albano, and a man interrupting a meal of moules mariniere to help a woman in handcuffs give birth.

DINGDONG it's Thursday.

Hey, remember when I would recap Impact? It used to go a little something like this...
1 2
1 2 3 4
The Main Event Mafia comes out and the Main Event Mafia has some fat guys now and Sting is back with them. Sting is dressed like a low budget geisha themed superhero. Kurt Angle has a rose for some reason and says some crap. Then Mick Foley comes out with DANIELS who no longer has a first name. He is just DANIELS. It is the dumbest name ever. Then Jeff Jarrett and AJ Styles come out and they're all mad about something, I honestly don't know what. This segment concludes with Kurt Angle saying "Can't we all just get along?" which is, I guess, a pretty clever reference by TNA standards.
The real patriotic dancing guy comes out and wrestles Suicide! I had the brilliant idea to start teaming Homicide and Suicide. Suicide does an STO which Mike Tenay calls a judo maneuver which, uh.. sort of. Then Suicide wins and there we go.
Matt Morgan asks Mick Foley for some favor and Mick Foley says Matt Morgan can fight the fat guys, then decides against it and tells that little weasely guy "Leave me be!"
Then we had some segment where, I dunno, the Main Event Mafia was all being interviewed and it wasn't very interesting except that the feud between the Survivor Chick and Sharmell continues. The basis for this feud, as far as I can tell, is that just like you can't keep two bettas in the same aquarium, neither can you keep two women in the same room. I'm not lying when I say it's the most interesting thing in TNA.
Matt Morgan beats up the Main Event Mafia Security who are the biggest scrubs on the planet. One is insanely fat, the other is just regular fat. They are also terrible. Anyway, they get beat up.
Then Mick Foley yells at the little squirrely guy about the guy's love of Twitter. I'm seriously not making this up.
Beer Money beat Jethro Tull and Eric Young, it was boring. Whatever.
Then an awesome thing happened where Awesome Kong SPOKE! And she said "Dumb blond! DEAD BLOND!" I don't know who she was talking about but I am inclined to agree with her.
Awesome Kong did indeed kill the blond so there was that.
Then, oh I don't know. Something. I'm really bored with this show.
The main event was some ten man and stuff happened, then Mick Foley went crazy and tried to kill Jeff Jarrett with a barbed wire baseball bat so Jarrett kicked Foley in the N U Teez and gave him his finishing move onto the bat and Sting pinned him.
Then Sting said if he loses at the pay per view, he will wrestle no more forever.
No Cody Deaner. UGH.

Spotlight on: JERRY FLYNN

Fame is a fickle whore. It is fleeting, difficult to obtain and once you grab a hold of it all it does is try to struggle free from your grasp. Only the most fortunate among us grabs hold of fame and rides the fuck out of it. Jerry Flynn is one of those luck souls, and this is his tale...

HUMBLE BEGINNINGS

On a stormy January night in 1962 Jerry Flynn fought his way out of the womb of his mother, Ellen. Ellen Harrison was a school bus driver in Boardman, North Carolina. She had an ill advised one night stand with town drunk Otis Riles, and due to his poor timing and horribly executed attempt at the old "Catholic Ejection Seat" Jerry was conceived. Otis then vanished from Ellen and Jerry's lives forever. On that rainy night Ellen sat in the bathtub of her single wide trailer, giving birth as the trailer park handyman and noted Kung Fu expert Fred "Iron Claw" Flynn acting as her mid wife. After hours and hours of pushing it became apparent that the baby she was trying to shit out of her snatch was too fucking awesome for simple vaginal birth and with one swift spin kick he managed rip open his mother's womb and emerged from a gaping hole in her abdomen. Fred was so in awe of this rad ass little dude that he totally forgot that Ellen was bleed out her vag and stomach and sat there looking into young Jerry's eyes as she bled to death. On that day, a bond was formed between the two that could never be broken. Fred knew that the death of Jerry's mother would only serve to fuel the desire that he saw in the infant's eyes so he promptly took her corpse and ground it up into a puree that he fed Jerry for the first 3 months of his life. Fred decided to raise this bastard child as his own and gave him the greatest gift he could think of: His last name. A legend was born, quite literally.

LEARNING THE DEADLY ARTS

Fred was something of a legend in and around the Boardman area. He was a self proclaimed "Bad Ass Mother Fucker" and taught himself Kung Fu by repeatedly viewings of Bruce Lee movies and readings of Black Belt magazine. He stood roughly 6'3 (6'8 if you count his flat top mullet). He was famous for his propensity to walk into bars and spin kick the fuck out of the biggest man he could find. He owned the trailer park in which he lived and worked in by beating the shit out of every resident there until they handed the deed to their property over to him. He once stabbed a man with a toothpick for not covering his mouth while sneezing. No one looked Fred in the eye, much less spoke to him. That is what made his love for young Jerry all the more astonishing. His neighbors saw this rugged, grizzled man caring for a helpless baby and assumed he was a changed man, so they showed up at his front door baring gifts. They were wrong, and Fred slaughtered them all. He still kept the gifts. By the time Jerry was 3 months old he had mastered walking. By 6 months he was running two miles a day. By the time his first birthday came around Jerry had obtained a blue belt in Kung Fu under Fred. Jerry took to Kung Fu like a Mexican to stealing or a Samoan to eating. Or like a Mexican/Samoan to eating stolen food. At the age of 6 Jerry was banned from public schools for spin kicking the fuck out of the entire staff and faculty. Fred decided that his son was too goddamned RAW for pussy ass school so he decided it was time for Jerry to take his show on the road. They traveled from town to town, fighting all along the way. Fred would walk into local watering holes and say that he had a kid outside who could whip the shit out of any grown man and that he was willing to wager $1,000 to prove it. Hundreds of men would jump for this chance. All of them would get knocked the fuck out by little ass Jerry. The money was rolling in. But, as life is known to do, fucked up shit was on the horizon for Fred.

A MENTOR, SLAIN

Jerry Flynn was now a 13 year old boy. He was nearly as tall as his father, and had even managed to successfully impregnate 17 women, although he managed to abort each of these unwanted fetuses via either spin kick or uppercut. One night Fred told Jerry one night that he was going out to get a pack of smokes. Fred walked out the door, not knowing that this would be the last time that he would speak to his son. Fred had recently made his way onto a local motorcycle gang's shit list by fucking all of their old ladies in a single, glorious night. They managed to corner Fred in a junkyard as all 126 members of "The Black Widows" surrounded him. Cholla, the leader of the gang approached Fred and said "Fred Flynn, this is your day of reckoning" and at his command the entire gang attacked Fred. What happened next is still not entirely certain, although this much is known: Fred managed to kill 60 of the Black Widows before he was somehow stabbed in the heart by an antennae from a 65 Dodge Duster. 13 miles away, a sleeping Jerry jumped out of bed as the life left his father's body and hopped onto his Huffy and sped to the scene of Fred's death. Jerry saw the remaining 66 members of the Black Widows standing around his father's body and did something he had never done before: He shed a tear. And then he cracked the skulls of all of the bikers and avenged his father's death. He then wrapped up Fred's body in linen and set it on fire as a way of sending his spirit into the universe. Not like a Jedi funeral, because Jedi are huge faggots. For the first time ever, Jerry was all alone.
ONE MAN VS THE WORLD

Jerry never realized how much he relied on his father until he was gone. Fred paid the bills. Fred cooked the meals. Most importantly, Fred lined up all the fights. There was only one thing Fred could do: Go pro. There was one tiny problem: MMA hadn't been invented yet. So, Jerry invented it. On July 18th, 1976 Jerry hosted the very first MMA card in the backyard of some chick he was fucking. 165 people paid $200 each to sit on the grass and watch as Jerry beat the fuck out of 7 guys in a row. After doing this and not so much as breaking a sweat he decided that the fans hadn't gotten their monies worth so he then fought all 7 of those guys at the same time and knocked all of them out in different manners. The card was a huge success and before Jerry knew it he was running sold out shows in junior college gyms all up and down the Eastern Seaboard. Jerry was making shit loads of money and fucking all sorts of bitches. Life was good. Then, one day a tiny ass Brazilian showed up to his front door and told Jerry that if he had any balls at all he would go to Brazil and fight him. Jerry had no clue who this Gandhi looking fuck head was, but he wasn't no bitch so he told him he would be there. The man left his business card and walked away. The card read "Helio Gracie, BJJ Stud/ Watermelon Juice Exporter". Jerry had just taken his first step into a much larger universe.

LIGHTNING FOOT IS BORN

Jerry Flynn was met at the airport by Helio Gracie himself. Flynn stepped into Gracie's limo and the two said nothing as they drove to the Gracie family compound. When they arrived he was quickly ushered into the Gracie family courtyard where TV cameras and a crowd of around 3,000 people had assembled. Jerry was shown to his dressing room where he put on his kickboxing pants and rubbed a fresh coat of gel into his flat top. He emerged from the dressing room and saw the diminutive Gracie kneeling with his back to him, draped in a black gi. Jerry laughed at the sight and asked the old man how he intended to fight in his pajamas. Helio responded by slapping the young Jerry across the mouth. The fight was on! For 5 hours the two danced around, trying to get a feel for the other. No one in attendance was bored in the least. Finally, Jerry attempted a roundhouse kick which Helio caught and quickly managed to take Jerry down to mat. This was uncharted territory for Flynn. No one had ever tried to make him fight off of his back before. Before Jerry knew it he was being smothered by Helio's gi as the Brazilian worked on various submissions. Jerry managed to eventually power out and got back to his feet. Now he was pissed. He charged Helio and threw about 3o kicks and punches in the blink of an eye. All of them landed and Helio was in trouble. Jerry was intrigued by the submission holds that Gracie had tried to use on him and decided to try one himself. He applied an armbar and snapped Helio's arm like it was a dang old chicken bone. The stubborn old fuck refused to submit so Jerry did the same thing to his other arm with the same result. At this point Helio's young son Royce freaked the fuck out and threw in the towel. This enraged both Helio and Jerry, and Jerry walked up to Royce and spin kicked him so hard that Royce shit his gi. Helio, both of his arms hanging and soon to be amputated, smiled at Jerry and said. "You, Mr. Flynn, you have quick feet. Feet like... LIGHTNING. You are LIGHTNING FOOT." Jerry bowed to his vanquished foe and caught a ride back to airport. He returned to the US and went back to work, waiting for his next challenge.

AN UNLIKELY ADVERSARY

Jerry was never a fan of pro wrestling. To him it was little more than "a bunch of sissified faggot shit for faggots", and in many ways he was right. He never took pro wrestlers seriously, so the day a muscular, bald Jew showed up at his door he didn't so much as bat an eye. The man's name was Bill Goldberg and he was bound and determined to show the world that pro wrestling was the strongest fighting style. He had trained in grappling with enormous dick wad and rumored kid fucker Alonzo Spellman and considered himself to be a tough guy. At first Lightning Foot refused to engage the fake fighter, knowing full well that it was a no-win situation for him. If he won, all he managed to do was beat up some fruit in trunks. If he lost, well, that wasn't really part of the equation. So he sat silently, building a hard-as-fuck ship in a bottle as Goldberg continued to disparage him and Kung Fu. All of Goldberg's insults bounced off of Flynn until Goldberg uttered the words "Your daddy was a pussy". Lightning Foot felt electricity surge through his body and grabbed his dope ass ship in a bottle and busted it over Goldberg's head, which was a shame because this thing was fucking TITS. I'm not sure how they grade the difficulty of ship in a bottle building, but on a 1-10 scale this shit was like a 37, at the least. He told Goldberg that he accepted his challenge but demanded that the bout be fought under HIS rules and that the fight take place in... THE BLOCK. Goldberg had no clue what Flynn's rules were or even what the block was. If he did his kike ass would have GTFOed while he still had a chance. Stupid asshole.

HATE CRIME LEVEL ASS BEATING

Promoter Don King jumped all over the chance to promote this super fight like a bum on a baloney sandwich. As the fight grew closer and closer King set up a press conference where Flynn would tell the world what his stipulations for the match were, and more importantly, what "The Block" was. The morning of the press conference Flynn put on his father's best suit, ran some LA Looks through his hair and stepped onto the stage to look Goldberg in the eye. He told a packed crowd that his rules for the match were simple: There were no rules and the only way to stop the fight was by DEATH. The crowd was shocked. In-ring fatalities may have been the norm in Japan, Mexico and other shit hole countries inhabited by savage fucks, but the US was considered too high brow for that kind of barbarism. Flynn made it clear that this bout was too intense to take place on American soil, so he managed to clear the way for it take place on the deck of a US Navy aircraft carrier in international waters. Turns out President Bill Clinton was a huge Lightning Foot mark and made sure all the red tape was cleared. Then, Flynn described in great detail what "THE BLOCK" was. "THE BLOCK" was an iron octagon with one door that would be locked from the outside. Inside "THE BLOCK" the two men would be locked up. Only one man would emerge victorious. A hushed silence fell over the crowd and Goldberg's cocky smirk now gave way to a look of genuine fear. He had demanded this fight, and now it had become something he had not expected. His doom was sealed. Ever the showman, Goldberg put on a brave face and left the press conference promising that he would deliver a "Hate crime level ass beating". These were hollow words, and Goldberg himself knew that.

THE DEATH OF A LOUD MOUTHED JEW

As the fight approached Goldberg became more and more desperate. He attempted to pull out of the fight, only to have Don King's army of well paid lawyers inform him that doing so would give Flynn free reign to murder his Goldberg's entire family. He tried to get out of the fight by faking an injury, only to have a team of medical experts deem him fit to compete. He became increasingly suicidal and was eventually placed in protective custody on suicide watch. As the day of the fight arrived Goldberg had resigned himself to his fate.

The fight itself went off pretty much as expected. Goldberg came out to his fruity ass pyrotechnic enhanced fake wrestler garbage entrance while Flynn walked out to nothing but the sound of silence and his own footsteps on the metallic deck of the aircraft carrier. The two men were locked in the cage, Goldberg came running at Flynn, Flynn jumping spin kicked Goldberg in the face, mounted his fallen body and punched the ever loving shit out of him until all life left his body. As Goldberg lay dying Flynn leaned over and whispered into his ear "My father was NOT a pussy, and now you know that. Say hi to him when you get to Heaven. You'll know who he is, he'll be the dude kicking the shit out of you for all eternity. Bye bye, asshole." Flynn then applied a rear naked choke and sent Goldberg off to Valhalla. With Goldberg dead the referee opened the door to cage. As Flynn made his way out of "THE BLOCK" the stunned servicemen (no women) slowly began clapping until all of them were cheering their asses off. The fight was a huge success and received over 30,000,000 PPV buys. Jerry Flynn was at the peak of the mountain, and now it was time to come back down.

THIS IS THE END, MY ONLY FRIEND

Addressing the servicemen and PPV audience he announced his retirement from combat sports. He now had inner peace and had no further desire to maim and murder. He also announced that he was opening his own Kung Fu academy in his hometown of Boardman, NC. To this day you can walk through the streets of downtown and hear the terrified screams of his teenage students, and, if you're lucky, the snapping of an arm or two. Flynn still lives in his mother's trailer, although he now has cable TV so he can watch "The Wire". When I informed him that "The Wire" was over he chuckled and said "Oh yeah?" and then picked up his phone. Two days later I read in Variety that HBO was filming new episodes of "The Wire" in a furious dash due to "popular demand". Coincidence? I think not!

Hacksaw is Wrestling at My House.

So I am moving to Brooklyn tomorrow afternoon. I have a job and I have no more time to play grabass on the internet with wrestling fruits. I don't know how often I wil be posting here from here on out, but this is my last hurrah, if you weel.

It turns out Hacksaw Jim Duggan was literally wrestling around the corner on my last night in this bullshit town, so I decided to go alone, because it was better than...being alone...I guess.

I have hangups with life, so I don't like going to public social events alone as I feel everyone is staring at me and making fun of me for being a lonely man. Don't get me wrong, I'm not socially retarded or anything, but being alone in these types of situations BUGS ME OUT. I warmed up earlier in the day by going to a Japanese restaurant all alone and ordering a perfectly cooked Chicken Katsu plate. After that, I had enough confidence to attend a scrubby wrestling event by myself.

The wrestling league or whatever was called POWER & GLORY WRESTLING. I guess they run locally in CT and they have their own little thing going on. I showed up fashionably late, because that's how you do things. Unfortunately, it wasn't late enough as I sat there for a half hour waiting. I also expected like 50 people to be there but the place was fucking PACKED. I don't know how many people, but definitely more people than will be at the next 5 IWA-MS shows combined. It was the most people I have seen at scrub wrestling in my life.

SO I am sitting there, and starting to freak a little because I am alone in a room with 400 white trash. Given the town I'm in, I fully expected the audience to be blacks and puerto ricans, which I can handle, but that much white trash gives me the panics. Oh, i was also DUMB high, which wasn't helping. Then, these three dudes sit next to me. They were all very chunky. I will go over their outfits:

Guy #1: Fat, tye dye Superman T Shirt, tucked into jeans, gut hanging over belt, bobo sneakers.
Guy #2: Fat, Bald, wearing a generic And 1 Basketball jersey Nothing underneath. t's def. not B0Ball jersey season, and it's NEVER Bball jersey season for fat bald white dudes), baggy jeans, and icy white And 1 kicks.
Guy #3: Fat, Urlacher Jersey, baseball cap, BLACK Jeans, those non slip black shoes you have to wear when you work in a kitchen.

Oh, and they were all wearing glasses. I would later find out that these dudes were INSIDERZ, but more on that later. At this point, I regret going to such a white trash function and I get the panics, but I calm myself down so it's all good.

The first thing was like Raw, where the main heel team comes out, which are a bunch of dudes who are like DX, and the leader looks like John Morrison. One of the guys is doing a fat gay aerobics gimmick and his name is Richard Seaman's. He's the best dude.

SO then after a bunch of yammering motherfucking RON ZOMBIE comes to clean house and the crowd goes APESHIT. Ron Zombie is a dude who has been on every single local wrestling card since I was in high school. He looks like if Cactus Jack was into Rob Zombie. he crowd is going APESHIT because he's southern CT's real life RANDY THE RAM except Ron has never been famous anywhere but southern CT.

Oh, so I forgot to mention MOTHERFUCKING OX BAKER was there. Not wrestling obviously, he's like 150 years old. he was just selling shit. He has this crazy loud booming voice and he was just kind of blabbing away doing crazy old man talk to no one in particular, but then he starts DISRESPECTING THE BIZ during the matches! During this Ron Zombie bullshit, Ox Baker legit tries to start a BORING chant, and I'm like FUCK YEAH OX BAKER! but I don't say that out loud because that wold be weird, so I just think it real hard.

Meanwhile, I find out these fat dorks next to me are INSIDERS because they start talking about "bumps" and "workers" and "stiff shots" and I start to puke a little. At least they didn't smell bad. I really wanted to turn to them and say, "Excuse me, do you know who the fuck I am? I am Contributor IV from the internet's most popular wrestling blog www.6394blog.com, Why don't you show some respect", but I didn't do that because that would have been queer.

Ok so that match was over. whatever, you guys don't care. Then the ring announcer comes in and he's like "there are refreshments in the back and also wrestling legend OX BAKER is in back signing autographs" and some older puerto rican dude a couple rows in front of me stands up, turns around and points to Ox and screams OX BAKER BABY!! and I'm like FUCK YEAH OLD PUERTO RICAN GUY YOU RULE, but again I don't say that out loud.

So then during another match the insiders are still blabbing about bumps and ROH and GABE and i'm puking, and then Ox Baker starts yelling at the referee for counting too slow and I start to wonder if Ox Baker is drunk, and how I could use a beer too, which is when I find out there are no beers at this event which becomes a nagging concern since I would have easily bought ten beers.

Ok, then at some other point, the ring announcer makes an announcement saying there is a special guest in the audience, as if like, Lawrence Taylor or Kirk Cameron is there, but it's just some local magician guy and Ox Baker yells WHO GIVES A SHIT at him, and I lose it again.

SO another match I will highlight: Some black guy comes out, sorry, I don't know his name, but he was supposed to be the bad guy, but his little mixed color children were in the audience in front of me holding up a sign for him and it was so touching. I cried a little. Then the next guy out was another black guy names THE PARK CITY GANGSTA, and THE PARK CITY is my old hood where I grew up and shit, so I was torn as to who to root for. The touching family man or the dude who was representing the B.P.T. It doesn't matter because the insiders started critiquing these dudes outfits and it was HILARIOUS. All wondering how much they spent on their ring gear. Oh, and then the dude in the basketball jersey started thinking out loud about what kind of promos he would cut in the ring which became a recurring theme during every match. THEN all of these dudes started talking about playing D&D, and I LOST MY SHIT. Like, I had to put my face in my hand because I couldn't keep it cool AT ALL.

So there were some matches, blah blah, and then an intermission so I go to buy an Ox Baker T Shirt because the dude is so awesome, and he was so fucking PUMPED someone was buying his T shirt because no one else gave a shit about him. Right after that he bounced though so I knew I wasn't gonna be getting more drunken commentary. Oh, I think he called a girl a bitch too! He might have said midget though! It was hard to decipher through the moustache.

So after the intermission the dork gang comes back and one of them now smells like cheap bathroom soap and bad breath, and I don't know how much more I can take with no beer being sold. THEN they start talking about some guy, and one of them says that Dave Prazak is a metrosexual, which was baffling. Dave Prazak looks like a lot of things, but metrosexual is not one of those things EVER. They were also saying how all of the wrestlers girlfriends were fat but these dudes mos. def. never saw a real vagina EVER.

Ok time for the MAIN EVENT. Hacksaw vs. the fake DX dude. For some reaosn I forgot Hacksaw's gimmick was being a lumbering retard. He started like 40000 USA chants. He was also wearing old school swim trunks as ring gear. No joke. So I guess it was the best match a 60 year old man can have with some scrub you never heard of.

All in all, I enjoyed myself. I wish there was beer. I don't know if I'm going to be able to handle going to ROH by myself in June though (that was a plan of mine). Thanks for reading. Die slow, bloodsuckers.