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BACK-LEG FRONTKICK BY SEAN CARLESS: (12/08/07): OBSCENELY HUGE YEAR END 2007 EDITION!
FEATURING THE DEATH OF SUPERMAN! THE DEATH OF A GUY WHO NEVER EXISTED! PEOPLE WE WISH NEVER EXISTED! THE RISE AND FALL AND
FALL AND FALL OF AND FALL OF ECW! THE RETURN OF CONAN THE MIDCARD DESTROYER! THE PLIGHT OF MADE IN THE USA err, ICU LEX LUGER! Y2J SAVES US FROM EVERYTHING BUT NORTH CAROLINA APATHY! VINCE MCMAHON
BLOWS UP, STITCHES HIMSELF BACK TOGETHER AGAIN, AND APPARENTLY PUTS WILE E. COYETE IN CHARGE OF CREATIVE! ALL THIS, PLUS
BONUS ITEMS FOR THE XMAS SEASON, AND MICK FOLEY STARRING IN "I AM HARDCORE LEGEND"!
 Hey there, Fuckies, and welcome to the very 2nd last
BLFK of 2007, and the only column to appear as frequently as Fellatio after the 2nd year of Marriage. That's right. And boy,
has 2007 gone by fast. It seems just like 11 months ago I wrote a standard Back-Leg Frontkick. But irregardless, here
were are again TO PRESENT THE YEAR IN REVIEW (AND EVEN MORE~!). And sure, some folks out there are probably saying "This is
but another lazy attempt to just reorganize and present jokes and news you've already reported". And well, just because those
people are right, doesn't mean you should listen to them. I mean, I have pictures! Look at them! Laugh! Forget I'm recycling
the same exact shit again! Whoo. That's better.
Anyhoo, that all said, I thought I'd
bite the Bullet (not Bob Armstrong) and present an organized all-in-one look at the calendar year 2007 from my somewhat warped
perspective. And why not? In about 2 weeks, you're all going to be completely inundated with these types of fucking things
anyway, as every asshole and his brother churns out the same exact carbon copies of each other's works. You know, Taker wins
the Rumble, HHH returns, Jericho returns, etc, along with a myriad of *really exciting* lists that include their by gawd choices
for the year's best matches. And boy, it'll be tedious, terrible and repetitive. The only difference is I'm doing
it FIRST. Did I mention I have pictures? Ok, then.
 So, that all said, let us look at the BLFK YEAR IN REVIEW 2007 from the insane perspective of the one and only Sean
Carless. I wish there was more of me, but God broke the mold after making me. Although, some out there will insist that
God broke it while. Those Assholes.
2007:
IT WAS THE BEST WORST OF TIMES. IT WAS THE
WORST OF TIMES.
The following is not a completely detailed
look at the Year in Wrestling, but rather varying news-bits that caught my notice, and absurd stories that fell
through the cracks. This is the Back-Leg Frontkick YEAR IN REVIEW. Your Almanac of fucking complete absurdity. I mean, anyone
can tell you that HBK vs. John Cena on RAW was a five star match, but only one man can tell the same exact joke
a number of ways and make you believe it's original. I wish I was that man....
Onto the review~!
 DEATH OF SUPERMAN. 2007 actually opened up with thus far
the only unrequited job John Cena ever did...KEVIN FEDERLINE. That's right, the former Mr. Britney Spears, and these days,
hilariously enough, the more credible of the two. Flashing your vagina that better resembled the after-effect of a tragic
house of wax fire and shaving your head so you look like the fucking Kurgan from Highlander will do that. The irony of the Federline job though was that it never really lead anywhere long-term.
Kevin never returned in any shape or form again, leading many people to question why it was even booked at all. I mean,
why bother? What does John Cena even have in common with a manufactured wigger dickhead who's completely overexposed?
Oh.
All kidding aside, Cena pretty much carried the
company this year, putting on great matches and debunking his detractors claims that he didn't deserve his spot by being,
outside of maybe HBK, the most consistent in-ring performer this year. Even if he, like your wife of five years, never
laid on his back for more than two seconds at a time.
From there, Krypton Massachusetts favorite (Last?)
son would go on to have the longest title reign of the last twenty years, clocking in at almost 13 straight months, much
to the joy of his fans, who were no doubt showing loyalty and respect. Hustlin'? Not so much. It's physically impossible when
you way in excess of 400 pounds.
Anyway, after a year of overcomin' all those odds,
yo, Super Cena would eventually meet his doom(sday) in the form of Mr. Kennedy, who legitimately injured The Man of Tomorrow
(and the next day, and the next, and the next, well, if that title reign was any proof) putting him on the shelf, and
sending him back to recuperate, and no doubt soak up the rays of the yellow sun of the Earth at his the Fortress of Solitude
in Kandor Mass. that he shares with his nameless father Mr. Cena. And just like that, the reign was over. And I'm
convinced, that if you watch that match again, you'll see a point where Kennedy puts a chain with a piece of West Newbury
attached to it around Cena's neck before that arrant hip-toss gone awry. IT'S THE ONLY WAY TO EXPLAIN IT. And clearly the
most rational.
In any event, The Death of Superman gave way to
the title run of one arch-criminal Randy Orton, whose own super power of sucking the energy and charisma out of a building
full of people thus far is unstoppable. But fear not, Super Cena will return for Truth, Justice, Hustlin', Loyalty, Respectin'
and the American way, yo. And if not, maybe he can just fly around the Earth until it reverses its axis and sends him back
in time before that Kennedy match? Maybe.
 THE RETURN OF CAPTAIN TRIPS. HHH started off the year by tearing his
quad, and being forced to sit out Wrestlemania. A Wrestlemania that we learned in HBK's new DVD set that he was supposed to
headline...AGAIN . And guess what? He's on tap again this year. Holy shit. Is it just
me, or has Wrestlemania's booking turned into fucking Shampoo instructions? Add Hunter. Rinse. Repeat.
But hey, I'd be lying if for most of this year,
people weren't clamoring for the return of the King Of Kings. Not to be confused with Jesus. That
King of Kings at least brings dead people back to life. This King takes very much alive things,
and then kills them. Anyway, as the Summer approached, people become stoked, as we started seeing vignettes for Hunter's big
Summerslam return. And apparently WWE hadn't bothered filming this guy pumping iron in 5 years, because I'll be damned if
that wasn't the exact same footage they used before. Of course sans the inspirational declaration from Bono that an inflated
HHH to full capacity was indeed a Beautiful Day. Still, people were stoked. Even though, I myself compared this jubilation
to people in the middle ages really looking forward to the arrival of the Plague, you know, because while it ravages everything,
it just might destroy and dispose of a few people you want gone anyway.
Anyway, Trips made his
triumphant return at Summer Slam, but not before telling King Booker "Didn't I tell you the first
time that your kind couldn't be Champion?" And that kind? Threatening upper-midcarders? Sounds about right. From there,
the King Of Kings went on a rampage, destroying any tag team in his path, simultaneously.
But in Hunter's defense, WWE's booking has proven, that if you're Tag Team Champions, even if there are TWO of you, you'll
still lose to one single Main Event Wrestler. It's science. You can't fight it. From there, HHH would recapture the WWE Title,
just because, at No Mercy, only to graciously hot potato it to Randy Orton, but not before making sure he pinned him completely
cleanly first. Oh, and not before pinning his original scheduled opponent Umaga, cleanly as well. And of course, not
before feverishly having someone solder a fucking nameplate onto a belt
he was going to surrender like an hour later anyway. God bless that man.
Since then, though, HHH has magnanimously stepped
aside and allowed others to pursue... and lose to the WWE Champion, while he himself fills up on midcarders, and the
heat of Jeff Hardy. And unlike that other King Of Kings, I doubt this'll be his "Last Supper".
I mean, since returning almost 6 months ago, the only man to press his shoulders to the mat is the same guy that he
drinks fucking egg nog with in their Bathrobes on Christmas morn, Dear old Dad. Sweet deal.
 BATTLE OF THE UMM, BILLIONAIRE. As we all know by now, Wrestlemania 23
was pretty much built around Vince McMahon and Donald Trump and their respective hair. Or just The Donald's, because
lets face it, no one on Earth gave a shit whether Vince was bald or not. I mean, come on. Really.
Originally, Trump's proposed hair-helmet
defender was said to be HULK HOGAN. But a falling out with Vince ruined that. And that's too bad, because I would have found
hilarious irony in seeing a guy, Hogan, who hasn't had hair since the fucking Vietnam War started, battling for the preservation
of it at Wrestlemania. And of course, secretly spooning up the losers discarded bounty on the mat and fashioning it into
a toupee, all while hoping no one noticed.
That said, with Hogan persona non-grata, bruther,
the responsibility to defend Trump's omnipresent translucent bird's-nest went to Bobby Lashley, or "Bobby Lindsay" as originally
announced by Trump in a radio interview. But not before Vince carted out arguably the most unfunny spectacle ever: TRUMP VS.
ROSIE on RAW. LESBIANS ARE YUCKY UNLESS THEY'RE HOT AND STALK OTHER DIVAS!!!! Oh, WWE. Do the laughs ever start.
Once Wrestlemania came around, Trump triumphed,
thus negating all the interest in the match, and Vince was shaved bald. But hey, by then, WWE had all your money. So score
one for Vince. The precedent has been set. Wrestlemania 24? Stephanie McMahon vs. Ivanka Trump: Loser gets a Brazilian.
I'd get behind that. Multiple times. From different angles. At varying speeds.
Ironically enough though for Trump, once Wrestlemania
came and went, so did any and all WWE proof that the Donald himself was ever in WWE, as he was erased
from posters and had his named removed and image covered on the Mania DVD. It's as if The Donald NEVER EXISTED.
And to my knowledge, his real last name isn't even Benoit. However, Trump at least still appeared on the WM 23 replay
on WWE 24/7. Unlike that other guy. German Bearer-Bonds > German Suplexes, apparently.
 THE CHILD-LIKE FACE OF ECW. After the disastrous December to Dismember
PPV, ECW had a new face. A face that had apparently not yet seen puberty: Bobby Lashley! And soon there after, The post-Heyman
era of ECW was (still)born, with Lashley at the helm. And soon, we were privy to the celebrated ECW MAIN EVENT DISQUALIFICATION,
because by gawd, Bobby (whom Donald Trump insisted we loved) was just too extreme for rules. Or Charisma. It's true.
Lashley, a talented wrestler, and imposing specimen, just lost all credibility once he opened his mouth, giving us the best
promos you've never heard in your life. But still, Vince was unwavering, and soon, Lashley became ECW's John Cena, overcoming
so many fucking odds that it'd probably be in your best interests to ask the motherfucker to buy you a powerball
ticket.
Eventually,
once Vince had fattened Lashley up by feeding him the entire ECW roster, Lashley made the jump to RAW, and immediately surrendered
the ECW belt without having ever lost it in the ring. And he didn't even lose his smile first! And good thing, too,
because with those black tights he wears, that was the only thing that kept
him visible out there! Ah, I kid.
However,with Bobby's jump to RAW came his biggest
challenge yet, his twin brutha from a different mother, JOHN CENA. And despite the movie Time
Cop insisting differently, it turns out the exact same matter COULD exist at the
same time, as the two did battle at the Great American Bash. It was a Battle between two identical forces, incapable
of showing any sort of vulnerability, and sadly, unlike I predicted, the entire Universe DID NOT collapse upon itself
and obliterate life as we know it. And too bad. Sure it'd suck to no longer physically exist, but at least we'd have been
spared the payoff to Vince's bastard child storyline. Way to go, WWE.
That said, Cena ultimately prevailed, and Lashley
ended up going on injury reserve. Or maybe that's the INJURY RESERVES. He was a Army Sgt., remember? It just makes sense. Hell,
even The Marine John Cena is serving there now! BACK TO BASE, SOLDIER. FUNKY FUNKY BASS.
FINAL
DESTINATION: SMACKDOWN.
Someone once
suggested that Smackdown's World Title is made of AZTEC GOLD (and not Acapulco Gold, or else I'm sure RVD would have
stuck with the company and insisted on a reign) and thus it's CURSED. Just think about it. Almost everyone in line for the
belt or to receive it has been struck down with injury, killed or just risked a combination of the two by putting it
on Great Khali. Hell, I once had a theory that this whole scenario was WWE's version of FINAL DESTINATION. Well, until even
the Grim Reaper went down, too. Now I'm not so sure....
 A NEW BREED UNLEASHED. THEN LEASHED AGAIN. THEN FORGOTTEN ABOUT
COMPLETELY. What a difference a year makes. One year
ago, ECW was beginning its New Blood vs. ECW Originals feud, and now, bar Tommy Dreamer, all the Originals are gone.
Although, it appears 2/3rds of Tommy's hair may have left the company with them.
Sabu, the only Genocidal man not being
pursued by the Bush Government (Be warned BOMBAY MICHIGAN, YOUR TIME IS COMING) first left the company, after missing
a few matches because his umm, extreme alarm clock didn't go off. Same with RVD, who left, after being ignored
by management for having his alarm clock set perpetually to 4:20. Sandman, too, is now gone, but not before making a
brief stop on RAW where he was disqualified for 12 weeks straight. Enter night. Exit Company? Sounds about right.
Hell, even some "New Blood" has umm,
congealed? Maybe. Marcus Cor Von has left the company to raise his sister's kids, and no doubt
cause a few headaches at Parent-teachers night when he shoulderblocks the faculty, just because. Test galloped off into the
sunset, and re-appeared in TNA as "The Punisher", only to be released again, or sued by Stan Lee. Whatever comes first. Hell,
even Ariel was released. Or subjected to sunlight? I don't know. All I know is that those great giant implants are totally
going to waste. And what a shame, too. As a vampire, I imagine she had the shortest recovery time ever. They opened her up,
stuffed the sack in there and the wound sealed right up by itself. True story.
There were also other casualties. Sylvester Terkay?
Cut. That's right, they cut the Terkay. The white meat is gone, but thankfully the dark is still here in the form of Elijah
Burke. Little Guido is now a Half-Blooded Italian? after losing his partner Tony Mamaluke, and even his manager Trinity,
who apparently raided a Police crime scene to cover her titties for no reason, because she was still
let go. Hell, Guido, even lost his IDENTITY, somehow morphing back into NUNZIO when no one was watching... which luckily for
ECW, is almost literally the case.
Matt Striker is still around, although apparently
the NYC School board still hasn't forgave him yet for never wearing pants with his argyle sweater-vest, because he's
STILL disgraced. Well, if Joey Styles is to be believed. Hell, even Kevin Thorn has been somewhat overhauled. Apparently,
someone must have killed the Vampire who bit him, because I'll be damned if he's not a regular dude now. That, or he broke
the second rule of Bite Club and told someone about it. (needless to say, Styles can never be a member).
Extreme Exposé is now no more either, as Brooke
danced her way terribly out of the company. BUT FEAR NOT FANS OF UNCOORDINATED UNSEXY EXTREME DANCING TO EXTREME SONGS
BY EXTREME JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE, Kelly and Layla are still here, feuding in wrestling's first ever Worst of Everything Series,
and not even being able to pull off a FOOD FIGHT convincingly. How do you fuck that up? Step A) Throw Food. Step
B) Get Hit With It. Step C) Repeat. Dear God.
However, the biggest mystery of this year is who
is STILL here! Mike Knox made it! Perhaps, like I once accused Lance Cade of doing, every time cuts are looming, he puts on
one of those pairs of novelty glasses and innocently whistles? Maybe?
And of course, still here is TWF's favorite wrestler,
and not just because he emailed me, STEVEN RICHARDS. The moment Steven gets released truly means Armageddon is coming. Live on PPV. Seriously, fuck the moon turning to blood or that Mark of the Beast shit. Richards being let go is
the REAL seventh sign. I'm telling you.
As for CM Punk, he's actually prospering. And all
that had to happen for him to finally get the belt was for someone to die, then the guy who replaced
him getting busted for steroids. Poor Punk. I for one think the culprit in the company being tentative to get behind
this guy was Punk's addiction to Competition. A serious condition that if left untreated can cause all
kinds of problems. I lost a best friend to competition this year. He overdosed on chinlocks and snap mares. We all tried
to get him to go Cold Terkay, but he never listened. Now it's too late. He was 25. And boy could he dropkick. What a
waste.
The preceding buffoonery was done entirely for the
sake of making as many jokes as possible. Yup. EC-DUB! EC-DUB! EC-DUB!
 HOGAN KNOWS SHIT.It hasn't been the best year for that
Stark Ravin' Hulkster, dude, as the cruel and harsh mistress known as Fate figuratively tore the crucifix from his bright
orange neck in the ultimate act of betrayal, bruther. Hulk's year of turmoil started out with a huge falling out between he
and Vince McMahon purportedly over Hulk's Summer Slam payoff. From there, Vince rubbed salt in those wounds, dude, by mocking
his daughter with the Jillian Hall character. I originally hoped that this would somehow mutate into a Father and daughter
tag team match featuring all the players, if only to see Brooke finally embrace her
destiny as a Hogan and bodyslam the Giant Stephanie. But sadly, that never materialized. Oh, and for the record, in my version,
Brooke may or may not have paid homage to dad by tearing her shirt off as well.
After the falling out, Hulk decided he would promote
his own wrestling event, featuring himself against the former Big Show, Paul Wight in Memphis.
It was originally scheduled to be against Jerry "The King" Lawler, but Lawler pulled out due to pressure by WWE.
And it's too bad. I would have LOVED to see a similar build between the two as with the Orton match in 2006 where
King hits on his daughter:
Jerry: "I
swear, Hulk, I thought she was 14!"
Hogan:
"She's 18, dude."
Jerry:
"18? Really? Eww."
Anyway, the event went down, with Hogan winning
(SURPRISE~!) but it only drew 2200 fans. Originally, Hulk, like he had boasted in 1988 in Atlantic City, was readily
prepared to dog paddle a capacity of 20,000 screamin' maniacs to safety in the event that Memphis became submerged underwater,
but after hearing there was maybe two thousand people, Hulk said "Fuck that, dude. We'll just bring life jackets, bruther.
Or maybe a Dinghy, dude". True story.
From there, things just got worse for Hogan when
his son Nick got into a brutal car crash leaving the passenger a vegetable. Hopefully a carrot, in honor of the palette of
Hulk himself. Soon there after, we discovered that the family of Nick's passenger was suing the Hulkster and family in civil
court for an undisclosed amount of money, and no doubt tens of thousands of bandanas, dude. Things escalated too, when a video
surfaced of Hulk's wife Linda putting over illegal street racing. And from there, on November 7th, Nick was formally
charged with several driving violations including a felony. The Mega Power handshake would NOT get Little Hulkster out of
this conundrum. No sir. And Hulk was said to be SO angry that he insisted on disciplining Nick himself:
Hogan: "Linda,
fetch me my weightlifter's belt!"
Linda:
"Hulk, you're wearing it."
Hogan:"I
am?"
Linda:
"Ya, you never take it off".
Hulk:
" Ok, well, let's try this; Whatcha gonna do, Nasty Nick? WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO, WHEN THESE 24 INCH PY--"
Nick:
"Dad, that shit don't work in real life!"
Hulk:
Ok, that's it, bruther! Lay down. Linda help me up so I can drop the leg, will ya?"
Linda:
*eye roll*
The following may have only happened in my head.
Anyway, 2007 ended even worse for the Hulkster,
as his wife of twenty plus years, Linda, filed for divorce, citing bodyslamming, wearing spandex pants and dew-rags in
every day life, and having to sew some 50,000 lycra shirts in the last 20 years as cause. Ok, she didn't say that. But my
reason is better. Apparently, though, Hulk had no idea about Linda's intentions, and when told by a reporter, he claimed that
he knocked the wind out of him. Which I can only assume meant that like King King Bundy and Earthquake before him, that
the reporter savagely attacked Hogan's injured ribs and delivered a series of thunderous splashes.
So, ya, that was Hulk's year in a nutshell. But
there is some silver lining, dudes. Hulk is not only the new host of American Gladiators, where I have no doubt that through
his contract, we'll see him somehow win the competition, but he'll also be on the RAW 15th Anniversary,~!... no doubt picking
up the first fat person he sees and throwing him through the air. That is after all what Hogan Knows Best. Bruther.
 SURVIVOR: ASHLEY.It was quite the strange year for Ashley
Massarro as well. First up, Ashley did a pictorial for Playboy, and somehow, this got her a WWE Woman's Title match at Wrestlemania.
So, there you go. Success and job promotion is that easy. NUDITY = JOB PROMOTION. And just the other day, I put this theory to
the test. I went to a Staff meeting, took off my pants, and now I'm executive Vice President of the whole company. Thanks
for the heads up, WWE!
From there, Ashley took a leave of absence from
WWE, to go to China and film SURVIVOR. And why not? She's perfect for Survivor. After all, she's already trained herself to
not eat, so there's no problems there. Plus, let's not forget she has no issues with rats. After all, she did compete in the
Diva search! Ahem.
However, Ashley was not long for Survivor, being
eliminated 2nd, after getting ill and not being able to carry her weight with the tribe. OH NO YOU DON'T SAY. She actually
was sidelined and unable to do anything of any note, thus wasting a lot of people's time? Good to see she doesn't limit her
uselessness to just wrestling.
That said, we have yet (at least as of me writing
this) to see Ashley return to WWE. My theory for this is that after going into the Ocean, she dissolved into porridge
and was swept away by the current. I'm sticking with that. God speed, Ashley.
COMING SOON TO THEATERS...SOMEWHERE. MAYBE?
Mick Foley in "I AM HARDCORE LEGEND".
Mick Foley was a brilliant hardcore wrestler, well versed in wrestling psychology and off the cuff
natural promos. But even he could not stop the terrible virus called "WWE Creative"
and "Main Event style" that soon became wide-spread, "infecting" countless
superstars, and subsequently wiping out any and all natural charisma and relatability... in favor of robotic, tedious,
unrealistic dialogue and boring paint-by-numbers offense.
Somehow immune to "shitty promos" and being "boring", Foley now finds himself as Mankind's
(HIYO) last survivor in what is left of Stamford Connecticut... and maybe the World. Although, there's
really no way to know for sure, because Vince McMahon is convinced that no other countries or cultures exist outside
the U.S. borders, and thus has never bothered to find out. Who can blame him. Who knows what kinds of evil threats
may be plotting against popular muscle-men in terrorist hot beds like FINLAND and American Samoa? You can NEVER be too careful. USA! USA! USA!
Since the outbreak, and for
three years, Foley has faithfully sent out messages, cheaply plugging random hometowns and various books
of his own writing, in hope that someone, anyone, would finally reply... or at least show
any sort of impassioned response or emotion outside of when fucking John Cena's on TV. Dear god.
Foley however eventually
finds that he is not completely alone. Mutant victims of the plague -- The
Infected -- lurk in the shadows... spinebustering, spearing, and as god as my witness, DROPKICKING any that stand in their
path. It's horrible. Foley is eventually able to clearly identify theses vampiric threats (who suck any and
all interest from anything they touch) by the fact that often, they're really tall and are covered in a
plethora of tribal tattoos and have a crew cut. You can't miss them.
During the day, Foley hunts
these "Infected", immobilizing them completely by telling them that they're going out there to wrestle with nothing scripted and absolutely no planned finish,
and will just "wing it". Befuddled, they subsequently walk in three circles, fall
down, then explode on the spot. Originally, he contemplated a way to somehow utilize his own immune blood to perhaps
find a way to cure the Infected... but that was mostly because he couldn't quite ever shake the habit of blading
for no reason, and was just trying to think of new excuses to continue.
After destroying many of
these mutants, Foley soon grows tired of constantly throwing himself through tables for seemingly zero reward, and
just puts them over. Because, well, that's what Foley does. He then disappears completely and writes a children's novel,
and WWE never changes. The end. That's the movie. Yup.
THE FALL
OF SOCIETY(X).
If someone had told a year ago that X-Pac
would be forced into a casket by a dark figure with a white skeleton face, I'd have assumed it was just the actual grim reaper
coming to collect him after a lifestyle of poor choices. Well, as it turns out, it wasn't the Grim Reaper,
but rather a match for Wrestling Society-X, an MTV produced half-hour wrestling show, that mixed frenetically paced wrestling
with hard rock music. Well, that, and a plethora of stupid gimmick matches involving electricity and piranhas and other buffoonery.
And no, Vince Russo was not behind it, but lord knows, once he sees it what kind of ideas it'll conjure up:
Russo:
"Yes! Get this, Jeff. What if put fo' tuppa-ware containa's on a pole! And then dese containa's are filled wit electricity!
And da losin' wrestla gets all electrocuted-like, while da winna goes onto a tournament! Ya, Den he wins dat tourney,
but loses da title shot to da guy who got electrified! Den you pin that guy, Jeff! Whatcha think?"
Jarrett:
"So, I win the thing anyway?"
Russo:
"Yup."
Jarrett:
"I love it."
Dutch
Mantell: "Can the guys losing be from the X-Division?"
Russo:
"Sure, why not?"
Dutch
Mantell: " Excellent".
Kurt
Angle: "Wait. I want to pin them, too."
Russo:
"Why not! Let's make a night of it! Anybody else?"
Nash:
"Sure, I could go for that."
Team
3D: "Count us in."
Motor
City Machine Guns: "Us too!"
Russo,
Jarrett, Mantell: "Nice try guys."
Motor
City Machine Guns: ...
Oh ya, by the way, WSX stopped production.
It's history. But I still wanted to hijack this with some TNA jokes. Relevance be damned.
 INTO THE ABYSS.Abyss this
year was subject to some pretty bizarre booking. For example, last Spring, TNA revealed that Abyss had murdered his father
and spent time in Prison. I can see that. I mean, how hard could it have possibly been to pick him out
of that Police line-up? Soon thereafter, Abyss' "mother" showed up, albeit briefly, with some sort of mind control over her giant mask-wearing,
quasi-retarded son. This prompted me to ask where I had seen this all before. Eventually, Mother disappeared, never to be seen again on TV, extinguishing my
wish that other family members with "Abyss"-themed names may soon show up as well. Family members like his Gay Uncle Kanyon.
His cousin "Void" played by any interchangeable member of the X-Division. And hell, even his sister "Huge Fucking Hole",
who'd be played by Lita. I was heartbroken.
Abyss eventually segued that storyline into a full-on feud
with his former manager James Mitchell, and his "son" Judas Mesias. (until Judas got injured like a week in). However,
answer me this, how is that every evil manager that turns on his longtime charge, somehow has his own giant son
with flame covered tights, for whom he exacts revenge through? WHAT ARE THE ODDS.
Abyss then closed out the year dodging Goldust's
rat (not Terri) and a masked Johnny the Bull renamed "Rellik" which is Killer backwards. And boy doesn't that gimmick Kcus.
So, ya, that's the incredibly true story of
"Chris Abyss" as once labeled by Sting. Holy shit. There's a reason why there's no "Glen Kane" or "Mark Undertaker", motherfucker.
Take a note, TNA.
 JUST MY STEREOTYPE.When
Santino Marella debuted, who'd have thunk that he'd end up as arguably the most entertaining part of WWE television? But that's
exactly what happened. And to think we were all making jokes after he debuted at the expense of his stereotypical gimmick. With
the only "Milan Miracle" I could think of being how a guy this incredibly fucking green ever got called up in the first
place. Boy was I wrong. And I feel really bad now about making allusions that
Santino's first big feud would see him stomp on someone's head and then kick it across the ring, before getting counted out
after he dropped vertically down a giant upright green pipe. Or that the reason he moved to NEW JERSEY from Italy of all places
was to join Organized Crime. After all, that's how Furio got here, isn't it? And why not the Mob?, I thought. I'm sure come annual WWE roster cut time, a guy like that could
*really* come in handy for the company. Have a problem with your release? Well, one trip to Satriales, and they'll find
pieces of Charlie Haas in a series of well-placed bowling-ball bags. My only hope was that in the interim, Santino had the good sense to not fall in love with Linda McMahon after connecting over
some morning coffees. It was at this point I realized that I stereotyped poor Santino worse than WWE ever could, and
vowed to never ever do it again. Until right now. ;)
TNeh?
TNA had its ups and downs this year.
They blew their load too soon on the Samoa Joe vs. Somas Kurt feud. But elevated some great new talent like the Motor
City Machine Guns and Lay Lethal. They then invented arguably the dumbest concept not involving a pole with a fucking turkey
attached to it with the Reverse Battle Royal, which ironically enough lead to my Reverse liking TNA for a while. However,
they continued to entertain with Kevin Nash in hilarious backstage skits. But then ruined that by bringing Nash back to actually
Wrestle. At least I think that was Nash. At first glance, it looked like song-meister Kenny
Rogers had laced up the boots.
 You got to know when to hold up promoters, know when to bullshit owners,
Know when to walk away, when you done nuttin'
but won.
You always count all your money, and only wrestle when you're able.
There'll
be time enough for jobbing, after a new deal is done.
Holy Shit, Kevin Nash is
THE GAMBLER. I mean, the dude did call himself Vinnie Vegas once, remember? It just makes sense.
That said, I guess what I'm saying is that TNA is
EVEN STEVEN. It's a perfect balance of awesome and shit. It's Status Quo, baby. And it's a fucking 1.1 Rating forever.
Or until they restructure TNA creative and fire Russo & Mantell. The latter of which I have no idea how he even survives
in humid Florida. I mean, a furry dude in that kind of climate? Buddy looks like he’s perpetually rocking
a fur coat made of Wooly Mammoth, so he must be DYING down there. I have no idea how he does it. Maybe that's why his ideas
are so shitty. He's actually worked his body into a fever due to heat and this is the best he can come up with in his state
of madness? I don't know. All I do know is no healthy sane man would ever come up with that "Feast or Fired" shit.
 MAN ALIVE, THERE'S A MCMAHON ALIVE DOWN THERE.With ratings starting to plummet after Wrestlemania,
Vince was eventually forced to undertake a publicity stunt to steal away mainstream attention from the controversial Sopranos
finale the night before (which I tied in right HERE. Cheap plug~!). So he did what any man in that position would, he Exploded.
And not just his inflated enhanced muscles from all four of his limbs at once, as I would have predicted, but rather
because of a CAR BOMB. "Who killed Vince McMahon?" was the flavor of the week, bringing attention to WWE from everywhere.
Hell, someone even called the fucking FBI thinking Vince had really died. That person was then told there was no Santa
Claus, The Tooth Fairy is your fucking parents, and that Undertaker isn't really an un-killable zombie. They
cried and cried. However, just when the angle was taking off, Chris Benoit went and totally one-upped Vince by killing
his family and himself. That's right, Chris, you take that ball and you run with it! Oh. Anyhoo, this real-life non-exploding
murder forced Vince to come out and admit he was still alive and that he had blown himself up.
And yes, like everything else in WWE with a similar build, it turned out Vince was behind it all along. Who would have guessed
it...
 D-GENERATION FRAGILE-X: THE TALE OF A GUY WHO NEVER EXISTED.When Chris Benoit won
the World Title at Wrestlemania XX, who would have thought, just 3 years later that he'd become perhaps the most infamous
wrestler in history. Heck, I can just hear HHH saying "See, I told you putting that guy over
wasn't worth it! I don't think I should ever lose to anyone but you Dad, from now on! Who knows who might end up being
a murderer! We can't be too careful!..."
That said, no doubt, this one event will likely be
a black mark on the sport forever. I mean, people are still talking about it. Hell, I even heard Germany has since
recalled all their suplexes due to the negative connotations surrounding them. Ok, maybe not.
But still, to think there may have been warning
signs. And not just Jim Ross basically telling us that the noble Atlanta Wolverine (indigenous to the climate no doubt) had
RABIES. Fuck this steroid shit! Someone find the animal that bit Chris before it strikes again! Ahem.
Anyway, after the news came down, this whole
sorted tragedy soon took on a life of its own in the Media; where first off, Geraldo Rivera somehow tried to connect Benoit
to the death of Sensational Sherri a week before. Dear god. Although, maybe Geraldo had information we never heard? Although,
from all the news I've heard, Sherri was sitting on her porch when it happened, so unless Chris came off with a amazing
flying headbutt from her fucking roof, I'm casting some serious doubt on Geraldo's credibility here. But hey, stay
tuned anyway for Geraldo's big exposé in "CHRIS BENOIT'S VAULT". It'll be awesome. And Empty.
![[image]](http://img222.imageshack.us/img222/7804/debrapunchcf6pq5.gif) From there, wrestlers and varying industry cling-ons like Marc Mero and Stone Cold's Ex-wife Debra all appeared on TV
shows like Nancy Grace besmirching the name of WWE and Vince McMahon. The latter of which used the tragedy to air her
own dirty laundry that Austin beat her... with piston-like right hands no doubt. Bah. She should feel lucky. Most abusive husbands
just smack their wives around with their bare hands and don't bother to put the thought and timing into cool things like
LOU THESZ PRESSES, and coming off the coffee table whilst a steel chair is wrapped around your ankle. It means he cares.
The biggest change though to come out of this whole
thing was WWE was forced to really improve their Wellness policy, and they handed out suspensions accordingly to those individuals
who made them look like fucking idiots. Especially people who claimed that there was not really steroids in wrestling
anymore............ ANYMORE! (Subtlety FTW).
Still though, it's hard to believe Chris
is gone. Nancy, too. (Although, I contend that she'd still be with us, had she stopped rolling after that first German.). Hell,
it's even been two years since Eddie died, too. And holy shit, didn't Perry Saturn get shot a bunch of times a few years
ago? Clearly, it's not a good time to be a member of the Radicalz. If I was Dean Malenko, I'd keep a defibrillator handy
and wear a bulletproof bee-keeper's suit made out of whatever it is that Black Boxes on planes are made out of, just in case.
However, all that said, the biggest impact, in
the wrestling sense, is that Benoit has seemingly been erased from all of WWE History. There's no mention of him almost
anywhere on their site. Hell, programming was even edited on WWE 24/7 anytime he was used. And it wouldn't even surprise
me if he's edited off DVDs eventually. Which'll make Wrestlemania XX pretty fucking interesting. Maybe HHH will somehow convince
WWE to say that he defeated himself at Wrestlemania to win the World Title? I mean, why not?
It's the only person he hasn't pinned yet. It just seems natural. And yes, I'm somehow turning
this whole tragedy into one big joke at HHH's expense. Laughter is the best medicine. Unless you're a Diabetic.
In that case, Insulin.
 LEX EXPRESS DERAILED.Lex Luger is apparently paralyzed after suffering
a spinal stroke. And somewhere out there, a member of Elizabeth's family is glad they bought that Voodoo doll. But still,
best of luck to Luger on what is expected to eventually be a full recovery. Normally, I'd insist that like his forearm, Lex
get a huge metal plate inserted in his whole body, because that worked out so cool the first time, but I fear that
Jack Tunney will just force him to wear a full-body rubber unitard to protect people who'll bump into him...and be completely
knocked unconscious. That's how it works, after all. But hey, for now, I say enjoy the *NEW* Lex Express. It has
a lowering mechanical chair on it and everything, and it can even be parked ANYWHERE with no worries about
getting tickets! Enjoy it while it lasts. I know I would.
NEEDS
A WALKER, TEXAS RANGER.
HBK's comeback from a hiatus last Spring
was definitely one of the real surprises of the year in WWE. Most notably, because it looked like Ol' HBK rolled Skinner for
his gear. Seriously. Right now, poor Steve Keirn is floating at the bottom of the Everglades in HBK's metal chaps The
best part, though? HBK looks to be sticking with the HBKeirn look! YES. Hobo is the new chic. And in honor
of the occasion, I finally finished the new theme song I wrote for him last month!...
Oh, Oh,
Oh, Shawn!
He thinks he's Keirn!
He knows
he's Skinner!
He's got a new plaid look
And his hairline's gettin' thinner!
He's got
bad knees
Can barely
walk
He covers
his ears
When Hunter
says Cock.
He's just
a sexy boy,
Sexy boy
He's not your boy toy,
Boy
toy
He's just a sexy boy,
Sexy boy
He's not
your boy toy,
Boy toy
He'll
carry loads
Won't put over choades
He'll lose his smile
if
you force him to job for a while
He calls himself "kid" at Forty
He loves
him the Lordy
He make Hosses look,
Like they're actually fucking worthwhile
He's just
a sexy boy,
Sexy boy
He's not your boy toy,
Boy
toy
He's just a sexy boy,
Sexy boy
He's not
your boy toy,
Boy toy
Eat your
heart out Bret.
Go buy his
merchandise.
See, I can say these things because A) I'm Canadian,
and it's the law here as it pertains to Michaels. And b) I'm still man enough to admit he's the best wrestler in the
world right now.
RVD BLOWS
THIS JOINT.
After 6 years in the WWE, RVD, finally
got his rolling walking papers, and took
his educated feet and walked out of the company... as a winner, defeating Randy Orton in a stretcher match at One Night
Stand... which I'd think at this point should probably just be labeled a fucking Relationship. Jesus, it's
getting a little ridiculous. But upon closer examination, RVD never really had a chance of losing a match where
the basic principle was to ROLL something, did he?. Still though, the night did not *officially* end until Rob took
a kick to the head from Randy and sent on his merry way. But no worries, RVD is doing fine. After all, his whole life
is one big perpetual state of logginess, so what's a "concussion"? That's just another day at the office when you're Rob Van
Dam.
Anyway, in his retirement, Rob's stayed busy, and
is apparently set to debut RVD TV, which looks hilarious. Seriously, check it out. I have no idea when it airs,
but something tells me they *might not* be broadcasting a little before Half Past Four. Just call it hunch.
 THE PLIGHT OF CANVAS MICHELLE.Of all the people to fill Trish's
umm, shoes, I would never have guessed that Candice Michelle would be the heir apparent. I mean, when I was watching
Candice obviously sitting on a dude's stomach simulating intercourse a few years ago, I never knew that, one day, this
woman would be Women's Champion. See, I didn't think this, because, well, it's hard to think anything when all your blood
is relocated somewhere else.
Eventually, Candice joined WWE, and much like
flaccid tools during that aforementioned episode of Hotel Erotica, she rose quickly, and soon, she won the Women's Title one month after earning the Title shot in a giant kiddy pool
full of Chocolate pudding. It's said that Lou Thesz once earned his first NWA Title in a similar manner by besting Orville
Brown in a sandbox filled with pork and beans. So good for her.
As weeks past, and as champion, she improved, and
eventually somewhat mastered basic psychology. So, with that under belt, why not move
onto physics next and prove Newton's law of gravity? You know, by plummeting
face first to the mat. Gone Daddy? Almost. Still, Canvas Michelle hasn't been seen on TV since.
Although, if Stephanie McMahon had have had her way, it'd be NEVER AGAIN, as Steph gave a concussed Candice a giant bottle
of water to ingest after swatting away EMTs who eventually told Steph to basically fuck off and let them do their job.
The bad part? Apparently giving water to someone with a concussion can CHOKE them. Who knew? Man, it's a shame she's
such a *great* writer, because I'm sure there's a career waiting for Big Steph in Medicine. In fucking Trinidad. Dear god.
But hey, in Steph's defense, as I've said before, I'm completely convinced that she believes that Hunter is the TRUE King
Of Kings, and as such, much like that other King Of Kings, drinking from his chalice, in this
case a giant water bottle, would INSTANTLY HEAL CANDICE. Oh well. Maybe one day. Until then, I'm sure the Knights of Templar
will guard that Evian with their very lives.
 ARRIVE. DO NOTHING. LEAVE.Earlier this year, we bore witness to the WWE's
latest...and last... foray into theaters with the Condemned, starring Stone Cold Steve Austin; a film based on the
principle of Austin being isolated with a bunch of hopeless ragtag losers, all fighting amongst each other for a
fleeting chance at freedom. And no, WWE didn't film the movie in the former Deep South Wrestling developmental league. The
movie was somewhat of a critical success, but basically completely bombed at all the theaters it played in.
Although, I heard, at the very least it inspired Vince to place all his contracted talent in those explosive bracelets
to prevent escape. You'll know it works when they only find a few shards of kinky hair, apple and teeth in Carlito's rental
car in 90 days.
Anyway, despite WWE and Steve Austin's high hopes,
the film did not deliver at the Box Office. Hell, I think even fucking Kickin' it Old Skool outdrew the Condemned, which
I think if you check your Bible, it states that anything remotely successful featuring Jamie Kennedy marks the earth for future
destruction. Repent now.
From there, WWE scratched their heads, not being
able to figure out what went wrong. But that didn't stop them from promoting it at all opportunity...minus one small important
factor...having fucking STEVE AUSTIN APPEAR ON TV and create some buzz. Well that, and I don't know, maybe lose the fucking
name "WWE FILMS". You might as well just have Steve give Stunners for two hours straight and spray people with a fucking beer
hose for how much credibility that creates. WWE however blamed the distributor for not promoting it properly, and also the
"R" rating, as it prevented their bread and butter, fat-faced little children, from watching the film and buying John Cena's
T-shirts, just because.
Anyway, as the stench of failure set in more and
more, WWE even got petty, and eventually poked fun at that month's box-office champion "Spider-Man 3" by having
Cryme Tyme attack an overweight guy in a tiny Spidey costume. OH THE HILARITY. My suggestion that Sandman be the one to cane
him obviously fell on deaf ears. Oh well.
In any event, Condemned
soon disappeared from Theaters faster than a Kielbasa in a Nunnery, and WWE eventually revealed that all future WWE Films
releases will now go straight to DVD as I once predicted back in 2006. (CHEAP PLUG~!).Condemned was not finished however, as it popped up again come DVD time,
where it seems to have made a good bulk of its money back, which I'm sure pleases the Texas Rattlesnake. Although, I've heard
that he was just happy to finally have a legal opportunity to punch some women in the face with no ramifications.
True story.
Anyway, the selling features on the commercial ads
I've seen for it heavily promotes exclusive commentary with Steve Austin, whom I'll be disappointed in if he
doesn't interrupt the Producer every five seconds with a What, and director Scott Wiper. Holy shit, THE Scott
Wiper? Wait. Who the fuck is Scott Wiper? And why should I care about what he has to say for 2 hours? And why is he sticking
with the last name Wiper? And what horrible occupation did his ancestors do for a living to come up with that
surname? All these questions and more answered when you buy the DVD. Because every time you don't, they flog Paul London &
Brian Kendrick and fire an ECW Original. Live with that guilt.
INTRODUCING
THE BRAND-NEW TRIPLE H COMPLETE GIBBERISH T-SHIRT!
From
the makers of this shirt, WWE is proud to present yet ANOTHER
Triple H shirt that appears from a distance to be really old and discolored, perhaps as a result of never having ever
been washed! It's true. Be the first to wear the new and improved "HHH
COMPLETE GIBBERISH T-SHIRT"! Created when HHH accidentally fell asleep on a discarded newspaper backstage whilst
thinking of fun new creative ways to defeat a depleted roster of tag teams all in one night. It was the best and most comfortable
sleep of his life. And now you can experience that comfort when you wear the T-Shirt that Triple H swears by! Literally! Just
earlier today while wearing it, he told Carlito that he has no fucking heart for this business. It was hilarious!
So what are you waiting
for, WWE Creative to give you an opportunity just because you're really over with the audience? Order now! And in honor
of The Game, we're holding down the price for a limited time! Be the hit of your school!
Pin three classmates at once! Date the Principal's daughter and get a free valedictorian scholarship as a result! Order
now!
BY GAWD
BBQ.
I actually recently buckled, and ordered some of
Jim Ross's famous BBQ sauce (seriously). And it's actually damn good. Good Gosh Almighty it's good. I almost got a case of
the limber-tail, but I dug deep in my heart of the rattlesnake and by gawd ordered it. I ate that steak quicker than
a hiccup. It was like a slobberknocker to my lower intestine. To commemorate the occasion, I mailed my government,
in hopes they'd issue me some livestock that I could in turn beat the shit out of, well, because I've always assumed
that's the purpose of a mule. My Dog died, so he got off the hook before being scalded. As god as my witness, I'd have broke
him in half. I promise you. You don't gotta be a cerebral assasin to know It was that damn good. By gawd.
What a year it's been for the Legend Killer. A "Legend
Killer" whose own life I'll assume is going to get a heck of a lot more awkward once he himself becomes a legend.
I can just picture the suicide note:
I. Can't. Take. It.
Any. More. Some. One. Remember. To. Feed. My. Cat. I. Love. You. All.
Sin. Cerely.
Randy. Orton. Legend.
Killer.
Sounds about right. Anyway, 2007 will probably be
remembered as the year Randy Orton become WWE Champion. A championship belt that strangely still resembles the exact same one
Cena wore, only it doesn't spin. And too bad. As mentioned before, I always thought if you placed a picture of Randy applying
a chinlock on the faceplate and spun it enough times, perhaps, the audience would be hypnotized into believing it's not the
most boring tedious hold EVER. Shows what I know.
Anyway, while Randy's WWE Title conquests are probably
the main plot point of his year, there's been many, many
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