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Back-Leg Frontkick: 09.17.03: Giving My Two Cents (Then
Taking it Back Since It's Canadian, And Thus Worthless).
Featuring: God Smites The Useless! It's Not Sodom And
Gomorrah, but Hey, That One Dude Did Do Unnatural Things
With His Ass! Plus, Impending HHH Wedding Buzz (And Not
From YJ Stinger Bees), Chyna Changes Her Name But Keeps
Her Masculinity, And The Actual Retail Value Of TNA. All
This, Plus Much More!
 Hi,
I'm Sean and I'll be your leader for today.
This is my first ever
*Official* non-recap column on the TWF site, and I
thought I'd first let you in on a little about
myself, to get a feel for what you can
expect, before we get to all that chocolaty ice
cream goodness.
First and foremost, I am evil. And
not 'movie evil' wherein there is a shred of
likeability to me, but the unadulterated kind. But in
all fairness, I do secretly have the heart of a
good man. It's shrink wrapped in my freezer....but
there incase the situation merits its use. Can I
be ambivalent at times? Well, yes and no.
Anyway, I spent the better part of the
last half year writing history pieces for other sites,
but somehow, deep down in the pit of my stomach, I
yearned to break free and broaden my writing horizons.
This "feeling" unfortunately turned out to be
advanced pulmonary respiratory illness, but alas that's
life. One that apparently won't last much longer, but
hey, whatever. In closing, I'd like to say my
ultimate long-term goal here online is to
become the Kato Kaelin of the IWC, respectively living
in the guest houses of all the writers and readers,
eating your food, drinking your booze and in turn
turning a blind eye to any nefarious acts that may or
may not transpire. And for the record, I'm not
above disposing of any bloody gloves and/or
evidence of any nature; Call me a team player! Just
don't call me to the witness stand. Because I may fold
under questioning.
Anyhoo, enough babbling, let's get to the
good shit:
 Here's my Two Cents on the Wrestling
Landscape:
So, I "ordered"
the much ballyhooed NWA TNA "one cent pay-per-view"
last week, and although I have seen a handful of TNA's
shows before (usually replays), I *tried* to give
this federation the benefit of the doubt in the event
this would finally be the thing that hooked me. But
unfortunately, there is still so much more to work
on. For one, all workrate aside, it's kind of hard to
suspend disbelief for a "World Champion" who sounds like
he spent the better part of his life working at a
Gas Station in Mobile. HHH he's
not. But maybe he could be. I just imagine instead of a
water bottle, he'd carry a jug with three x's on the
side. And like Trips, Triple J would also try
to get ahead by screwing the boss's daughter... who'd of
course, in this case, be his sister. Since, well, Daddy
runs the company and all. But since they're based out of
the south and all, that may not be such a
farfetched idea. Hee-haw.
Also, another issue for me
is the fact that Vince Russo,
a NON-WRESTLER, is 2/3 taller than everyone on
the roster. This *kind of* made credibility a wee
bit difficult. Call me crazy. The only thing
more damaging at this point would be if Vinnie Ru was
seen swatting airplanes away as he climbed to the top of
the "Asylum's" rafters. But hey, that'd
involve them actually charging people money for
fucking tickets to pay for said airplanes, so, umm,
never mind.
That said,
the fact that Sting and Sean "I'll eat that if you
don't want it, HHH" Waltman were even featured
on the show when neither work for the promotion
anymore is beyond me. I don't know, maybe showcase
the stars I'll be paying to watch next week? Hmm? In a
related note, at least judging by the footage
I just watched, The Stinger has recently given
birth to a twelve pound spare tire since his
departure (Rapture?) from WCW. I had no idea
Communion wafers were so high in calories. Who knew?
Other than that though, I enjoyed
the actual product itself. It can be a little spottier
than your grandmother's disgusting mottled arms at
times, but solid nonetheless. AJ Styles and AMW
impressed me very much. As did Raven, who has in 6
months proven that Brian Gerwirtz, Big Steph and company
need to commit collective booking hara-kiri for ever
letting this guy slip through their
fat fingers. Normally, rather than Hara
Kari I'd just suggest them putting a gun
to their heads, but after they fired
they'd probably just shrug their shoulders, patch
the completely clean hole on the other side of
their skull, and immediately get right back to
writing some of the best TV you've never seen in your
life. So why bother?
One thing I was NOT impressed
with though is the aforementioned Jeff
Jarrett. First and foremost, it's hard to buy him as
"country tough" when his street clothes suggest he's
been spending far more time dancing in a giant bird cage
than kicking ass in the ring. I mean, really.
Would you have *bought* Stone Cold had he word a paisley
shirt, or salmon pink slacks? I mean, seriously. The
only "ass" he'd be whoopin' would the literal one being
smacked by his swaying nutsack in the throws of
wanton homosexual passion. Live with
that visual.
Jarrett's a solid wrestler,
sure, but sadly, when your own fan base in your own
company cheers when you lose... maybe, just maybe,
you're not cut out for top babyface material. Just
saying. I mean, The IWC community shits
on Triple H for winning against all odds, but
even I don't remember The H's ever getting hit with
a baseball bat three times in one match and
still coming back to win. Mostly because
Triple H doesn't let anybody get that much offense in,
before pinning them 45 seconds later after a Pedigree,
but hey, my point stands. Whatever it was.
-Speaking of
HHH, The IWC has been really getting on his case
lately for not showing enough 'ass' in his feud
with Goldberg. But maybe that's for the best. I don't
know if my stomach could take seeing all the Creative
team's heads lodged up there.
But seriously, is
there anything the WWE does that surprises you
anymore? Yet, here we stay. We've become
comparable to that wife who gets the shit beat of her by
her abusive husband time and time again, but then always
says, "He's changed now, he'll be different". But
hey, wee should have seen this all coming. I
mean would you ever expect a guy with an Iron Cross
on his tights to cleanly put over a Jew? And
hey, don't even get me started on that Elimination
Chamber. Note to Goldberg. That ain't pyro smoke in
there! GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE.
EVEN MORE RANDOM
BUFFOONERY AND THOUGHTS:
-Speaking of the Game, it won't be too
long before our boy Triple H becomes the brand
spankin' new Mr. Stephanie McMahon! I have to
admit, it's going to be a little disturbing seeing him
wear a Tuxedo top tucked into a pair of orthopedic
bicycle shorts, but hey, who am I to judge? If wrestling
has taught us anything, (and it's taught me
EVERYTHING) it's that these guys don't seem to
wear pants EVER, even if they're not wrestling, so I
guess a full-on HHH freeballin' ceremony might not be
that out of the norm. It's probably also the reason why
Pat Patterson wants to sit in the first
pew.
Anyway, speaking of the HHH/Steph
wedding, I recently heard through my super
secret sources, BILL APTER, that when HHH
found out the actual wedding ceremony was going to
be only 5-8 minutes long, he instead insisted it go
a full 35. Including himself giving the
toast. Mostly because the Best Man (renamed
2nd Best Man for obvious reasons. ) just isn't ready for
that kind of responsibility yet. And who'd buy it,
anyway? PAY YOUR DUES 2ND BEST MAN.
-Also, just a scientific observation on
Steph herself: As big as her tits are, and with as
little skin as the human body has, shouldn't she have
the tightest, firmest ass on the planet? What gives?
It's just science. I mean, ever tried to stuff
a bowling ball into a sock? If the answer to this is
"yes", seek medical attention immediately because you
are clearly insane. Just saying.
-Joanie Laurer, who was once known as
Chyna, and whose Mangina was the original HHH
docking bay, has apparently changed her stage name
to "Chyna Doll"; you know, to avoid those pesky WWE
trademark issues. Her penis however, is still
licensed to the company. You may recognize him as one of
the Bashams today. But hey, why not "Chyna Doll?"
It makes perfect sense. Really. If you've seen
the crazy cunt interviewed lately, you'd know that
naming her after something that breaks incredibly
easy is like totally apropos.
-Injuries O' plenty in WWE these days:
First off, Billy Gunn is
apparently out for 4-6 weeks. OH NO. And for the record
that's "out" as in "injured", and not "out"
as in "the closet" as his nickname and theme song
suggests. Listen to his lyrics sometime, and tell me I'm
wrong. But hey, best of luck to "WWE's best
pure Athlete" anyway. Just ignore the fact that
Cole never tells us what sports he's supposed to be
"better than anyone else" at. And ignore the fact
that he seems to blow up easier in the ring than a
fucking Pinto. (which also blow up when hit from behind.
Ask Chuck). That's just how "pure athletes"
operate. Trust me. All the best athletes lose
their breath like 4 minutes into a game. So don't even
bother questioning it.
While we're on the topic of
injuries and useless people, Kevin Nash is also
apparently injured. It looks like that
grueling 4 month schedule, after taking a year and
half out finally caught up with the big guy. I just knew
all that reckless walking would catch up with him
eventually! Tone it down,
Kev!
But hey, we should have seen this
coming. See, much like the Biblical Samson, when Nash
lost his beloved mop, it also sapped his strength making
him prone to the dreaded "they have shit for me to do
creatively" torn ego. An injury far too many blowhards
never recover from. But no worries, Nash
fans. This won't have any long
term effect on his wrestling terribly one
iota. He'll be back on his feet doing nothing in no
time. I have faith.
And sadly, Sylvan Grenier has
apparently injured his neck. I don't know how that
could have happened! Lock jaw, maybe? Using Patterson's
balls as a kickstand for your head *can* have that
effect. Or so I'm told. If I actually knew, I'd
probably at least be Intercontinental Champion by
now. That's how these things usually work.
-Unforgiven is this weekend, and if
I didn't have a disease that forces me to order every
pay-per-view, shitty or otherwise, I'd probably
purposely miss this one. And not just because WWE's
big sale's pitch this past Monday was JR putting over
his match-up with the phrase "Sure, I can't wrestle
a lick...". SOLD. That's clearly how you move
pay-per-views! Imagine if other WWE stars just decided
to hard-sell the event by telling the
fucking truth...
Goldberg: "I'm only getting
the belt because they paid too much for me and need to
justify it!... that and well, because Hunter's got
an injured
cock..."
Good
enough.
Anyway, that all but sums up the Fed these
days. The only thing I find remotely
compelling is said HHH/Goldberg Title match. I'm ashamed
to admit that I have a morbid curiosity
as to how they'll finally pry the turkey plate from
the H's death grip. My suggestion is poison. But
hey, that's just me.
-People have been complaining about how
Rob Van Dam was buried last week and how he should be a
champion, yada, yada, yada. But I think that ol'
Mr. Potato hands will be just fine, though. At this
point, I think that the only "Gold" that Mr. Van
Dam seems interested in comes from
Acapulco
. Can't say I blame him.
Although, I heard no one will smoke with him anymore.
You wouldn't either if every time you asked to sit down
he tossed you a chair then kicked it in your face.
-And in closing, I
must admit that I'm somewhat disturbed by the
current incarnation of Kane. Not because of the
tasteless behavior his character exhibits, but more
because he now resembles a giant Penis. Tell me I'm
wrong. I'm terrified to see what happens when
someone puts him in a grinding headlock. I
also fear for those people in the first three rows
as a result.
Well that's it for this week.
I shall return next week, providing my mission goes
well. You see, I plan to single-handedly stop
international tyranny using only a fork, a rubber band,
and a will to succeed. It's all the tools I'll
need, mostly because it's all I can afford
because I spent my last 50 on alcohol and a
dimebag. I think I've got a helluva shot. Wish
me luck. And not just because I'm very drunk
and high right now, and I'm afraid I might not
ever wake up. Not even. See you next
week.
Or will I?....
Sean
Carless is a man of many hats. And he wears those hats
to cover an ever-increasing bald spot. Sean's various
scribblings have been read at Live Audio Wrestling, 411
Mania, Honky Tonk Man.com, The Toronto Star.com,
Wrestlecrap, and Lethal Wrestling. He has also
cured AIDS.
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(C) Copyright 2003-2009 - The Wrestling Fan/Sean
Carless. All Rights
Reserved. |
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