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.

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.