Blog War 09: The catfight continues
April 29, 2009 at 11:01 am | In Blog War 09 | 6 CommentsTags: Blog Wa, WRESTLING, WWE
I’m having to interrupt my lengthy Backlash recap to swing my arm back and give a big hard bitch-slap to those two fools over on that other wrestling comedy blog. You know the ones. And I was just getting in to a rhythm on the Backlash thing too. I was telling a tale about CM Punk’s sweat patches. Serious, hard-nosed journalism.
Despite my offer of free-love, Adam and Matt have opted to continue the scrap. They claim to have infiltrated my bunker (no, that’s not a euphemism) and have allegedly stolen my plans for the week. Poor effort, guys. On so many levels.
First of all, did you say you had a college education? Obviously neither of you have a degree in geography. You’ve seen me mention many a-time that I’m from Cardiff. YOU’RE NOT PAYING ATTENTION. Cardiff is NOT in England. Cardiff is the capital of WALES. In fact, the most offensive thing you could have done is call me English, and you didn’t even realise. The United Kingdom is made up of four regions: Northern Ireland, Scotland, Wales and England. A diagram is required, I think.
Last time I had to give that geography lesson I was giving a guest talk on Great Britain to 5th graders in a New Jersey elementary school. For real.
Anyone with a dash of smarts could see that my supposed ‘To Do List’ is bogus. Reasons include:
- I would not discuss, braid the hair of, or draw anything horse and pony related. I had a terrifying experience with a horse that nearly trampled me as a child. They’re not my favourite animal. And I did not send in a Trojan horse to spy on and attack you either, if that’s what you’re implying. I wouldn’t be that obvious. I knows my Greek Mythology Orlando Bloom movies.
- That is a piss-poor attempt at sketching a pony. Seriously, nobody would believe my art skills are that awful. It’s got devil horns for ears and its body seems to resemble a coffee table.
- I haven’t braided my hair since I was about 11 years old.
- I am yet to see you prove that I stole your precious photo of Dave B. I don’t NEED your ideas. I’ve got plenty of my own. I haven’t seen you compare Edge to Hamlet lately. Now THAT’S some cultured shit.
- I had to Google ‘Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper’ to find out what it actually was. I am a sophisticated young woman. Do you REALLY think anyone would believe I own something this saccharine? Puh-lease.
Besides, even if I WERE to write anything I didn’t want you to see, I’d keep it in my Sheldon the Turtle Keyper from 1985. And I’m keeping the key in a place nobody will find it.
- You’ve used my obsession with tea drinking to fool readers in to believing this list belongs to me. Hardly a unique trait being that all British people are obsessed with tea. Had you said ‘Drink tea from a John Cena cup’, might have been more convincing.
Really, I’m impressed you went to the trouble of opening Microsoft Paint to knock that up. But you’ll have to get up earlier in the morning to get one over on me. And you’re already at a disadvantage, what with me living in the future and all.
You’re doubting my name is really Ray? I’ve already SAID it’s a shortened version of my full name. I think you’re just pissed off because you tried to add me as a friend on Facebook and couldn’t find me. Awww, if you wanna be friends that bad you should just have SAID something. I can email you my full name so you can find me on FB. The offer is there. Do with it what you will.
PS> I noticed you ‘took my lead’ on the whole make-up thing in your Backlash recap. I believe my Smackdown review had a cosmetics thread too. I’m flattered. Really. Just make sure you put my credits at the end of your post, ok? Cheers, lovelies.
Smackdown(lite): Hamlet, Hair, Hobos and Hugs
April 26, 2009 at 4:28 pm | In Backlash, Big Show, Billy Gunn, Britain, CM Punk, Chavo Guerrero, Cody Rhodes, Dave Baitsta, Dolph Ziggler, Edge, Gail Kim, Jeff Hardy, John Cena, Kane, MVP, Man-Hug Moment, Maryse, Matt Hardy, Shane McMahon, Smackdown, Ted DiBiase Jnr, The Miz, Todd Grisham, Undertaker, WWE, WWE Superstars | Leave a CommentTags: Backlash, Big Show, Billy Gunn, Chavo Guerrero, CM Punk, Cody Rhodes, Dave Batista, Dolph Ziggler, Edge, Gail Kim, Jeff Hardy, John Cena, Kane, London, Maryse, Matt Hardy, Miz, MVP, Shane McMahon, Smackdown, Ted DiBiase, Todd Grisham, Undertaker, Wresling, WWE, WWE Superstars
Same arena, same crappy set, different day. Yep, Smackdown too was from the London O2 arena this week. Well, why spend 24 hours moving to a new city when you can stay where you are and drink the hotel bar dry. I’m talking to YOU, Miz. Twitter is so much fun.
I think I have an apology to make. I TOTALLY missed the fact that the set had a red phone box on it. I only noticed it when I watched Smackdown. That really tops it off. Because I don’t think those things even exist any more…apart from as novelties. WWE set designers: when you return to these shores in November you must try harder or I’ll pound ya!
So we begin with Edge. If I hadn’t enjoyed Smackdown so much this week, I’d quite happily have ditched the rest of it and just recapped Edge’s soliloquy. Seriously, it was like an Ontario Theatre Company’s production of Hamlet. It was a thing of beauty. But Smackdown was worthy of a full run-down so this will have to be a long one.
You know, if all this were real, I’d be wrapping a patchwork quilt around Edge, making him some tea, and calling Social Services. In fact, he was so convincingly deranged on SD that I was inches away from being sucked in. But then I realised that no man who is so up-to-date with his blonde highlights roots could be losing the plot, and I came back down to earth.
By the way, if anyone knows what brand of sunnies he’s wearing there, let me know. I WANT! Actually, maybe I’ll just ask him myself on Twitter.
It started well. Edge was calm, collected, cool, cucumber-esque. But then he started recalling John’s resolve and began descending in to desperation. He reminded us of the whooping he gave John on Raw and suddenly realised how alone he really is. GOD, I eat this stuff up. The spotlight in the ring, all those long camera shots followed by extreme close-ups. Oooh yeah! He told us once again that he feels worthless without the title, ran his fingers through his beautifully coiffed tresses and…..
“My wife Vickie can’t help…….I have no friends……in your own words John, I’m a desperate man!”
At this point I was so involved I felt like putting my hand on his shoulder and saying “I, will be your friend.” Yes, you are correct, I AM a loser. Nevertheless, he went on to prematurely declare himself the Last Man Standing. Fabulous. (Copeland….let me know who does your highlights too, please.)
Now that I’m emotionally spent I could do with some light relief. Unfortunately, Todd Grisham’s crack about the Queen’s crib and BBQ ham didn’t satisfy. Must be one of those American jokes I don’t understand. Like Sarah Silverman.
First match of the night is Matt Hardy & Kane Vs Jeff Hardy & CM Yum. The whole Matt/Jeff ‘I quit’ thing is kind of redundant now, being that we all know Jeff won’t be resigning his current contract. Apparently he’s tired and just wants to do something else for a while. I kind of admire him for having the courage to do that when he’s so popular at the moment. Ooh, serious mo there. Back to the match. It wasn’t bad actually. Some nice little shimmies. And surprisingly long for a Smackdown match. Matt pinned Jeff FTW. I notice you’re having some make-up slippage issues there, Jeffrey. Try Revlon Colour-Stay Foundation. It can be a bit cakey if you don’t put it on with a light touch, but it does last. Even on oily skin. And it’s reasonably priced too.
Big Show/Undertaker was kind of slow and tedious. I felt like I wanted to find their wind-up key and make things go faster. So, to continue the hair and beauty theme (which I swear was totally unplanned) I found myself thinking about how I’d change Undertaker’s fake-tan to a less vibrant shade of tangerine and teach him how to use eyeliner so he doesn’t end up with a harsh line. Smudge, babe. Smudge.
After a huge punch from the ginormous fist of the Big Show, Undertaker was deemed unfit to continue. Taker stumbled to his feet looking like a wasted hobo, and countered to regain his dignity. Buh-bye Big Show. Enjoy Raw!
Time for some lady action – Gail Kim v Maryse. I don’t know what it is about Maryse, but I’m not liking her. Something doesn’t sit right with me. And it’s not that “Bitch is more beautiful than me so I hate her guts” stuff either. Todd Grisham dared to say “that this French-Canadian is less popular over here in the United Kingdom than she is in North America.” Ohhh that’s what it is. The British have an involuntary hate of all Frenchness. (Apart from the cheap wine we like to sneak over on the ferry from Callais). And I thought it was just the irritating hair-flicking and the evil-claw-hand. Now I understand. On the flip side, I kind of like Gail Kim. But every time I see her I think of the ‘Cool Asians’ in the cafeteria scene in Mean Girls. Observe…….
Say what you want about Li-Lo’s debauched lesbian lifestyle, Mean Girls is one of the greatest films ever created. End of. Back to the business of grappling. Maryse won and flicked her hair so hard she did her back in. Whooda thunk it? Weighty hair weave really is bad for your health.
Jeff Hardy did a strange, swirly promo for Backlash, which I can only think was shot by some guy thinking “I spent four years at film school to work on this shit, I’m at least gonna be creative and maybe then I’ll get a movie gig.” Yah. Ok. Well….moving on. I can’t be bothered to talk about M.V.P and Chavo…..you just need to know that Montel won the match. Another one disappearing to Raw. His exit from the ring was interrupted by Dolph Ziggler. Umm. WHOOOOO? I’m so not into this guy. Firstly he has the hideous hair of Billy Gunn, then I can’t hear his name without thinking of Dolph Lundgren (remember him in Rocky IV) and apart from that he just seems like a complete tosser. Not a partial tosser, a complete one. I hope he doesn’t get any undeserved pushes. I will be pushing him straight back the way he came.
We’re not getting the new WWE Superstars show over here yet (correct me if I’m wrong). I downloaded it last week but haven’t bothered yet this week. Thankfully, the John Cena interview from Superstars was repeated on SD. Lovely. But poor John was not feeling himself. He seemed a little blue. Awww. What’s up, sweetheart? He took a microphone, told Grisham he didn’t want to talk to him, looked straight in to the camera and said “For once, I’d like to talk to YOU.” That’s it. I was gone. Whatever words came out of his mouth, in my head, all I heard was this……..
I gave myself a wrestlegasm with my own thoughts. Errrrrm, yeah. So….back in the realms of reality, the show ended with Shane and Batista Vs Rhodes and DiBiase. Kind of predictable, but fair play to Shane, he had a good go. He looked absolutely knackered by the end of it. Maybe if he wore less clothing he wouldn’t get so warm. Just sayin’. Shane made the pin, by the way. Oh and he even overcame his fear of boy juice and gave Dave a squeeze at the end. Nice.
FAVOURITE CROWD MEMBER(S) OF THE SHOW
These three who, despite possessing 0% dancability, rocked it out to M.V.P’s entrance music. You shake those tail feathers, fellas!
raw(lite): in my backyard
April 24, 2009 at 11:47 pm | In Backlash, Beth Phoenix, Big Show, Britain, CM Punk, Chavo Guerrero, Chris Jericho, Dave Baitsta, Draft, Edge, John Cena, Legacy, Man-Hug Moment, Melina, Michael Cole, Randy Orton, Raw, Rey Mysterio, Ricky 'The Dragon' Steamboat, Santino Marella, Shane McMahon, Triple H, WWE | Leave a CommentTags: Backlash, Britain, Raw, WRESTLING, WWE
It has been a progressive week for those of us at wrestlegasm.com….and by ‘us’ I mean me. I made a triumphant return to my driving lessons, the pilates tutor came back from her Easter holidays making me feel all flexi again, it was close but no cigar with regard to meeting Rey Mysterio, and a girl flirted with me while she rubbed a promotional skincare product in to my hands. Yes! A Girl! I was spooked, but she rubbed me nice so I bought the product. Don’t judge. My other half is across the Atlantic. I’ll take any physical contact available.
None of this has anything to do with Raw, so I’d better get started.
The WWE collective made their way over to my fair isle this week as part of their European tour. I won’t tell you how much it made my heart ache that I couldn’t be in London for Raw and/or Smackdown but I’m still grasping at my chest at regular intervals. The Cardiff events were house-shows and I doubt anyone that spectacular was there, but still, IT HOITS!
Raw was from the O2 Arena in London this week. Despite my sadness at not being there I was looking forward to being able to watch Monday Night Raw LIVE
- on Monday Night
- at a reasonable time of the day
Oh how wrong I was. Yes, Raw was in London but I had to wait until 2am for it to be broadcast so that Americans didn’t get annoyed that someone saw it before they did. Pppppfft! Americans. Gotta have everything their own way. Living in the future sucks. No wonder Marty Mcfly went back to 1985 at the end of BTTF 2. And just in case you were unsure whether Raw was actually in London this week or not, the lame-ass set was there to help you out.
They should have given me a call. I’m sure I could have come up with a more representative set.
Anyway, time for some action. The week before they shift over to their new jobs on different brands is always a bit mixed. Welcome to the ‘tying up lose ends’ show. We begin with Mr. Jericho looking rather fetching in another snazzy suit, explaining that we’ve never really understood his brilliance. Honey, I hope you don’t count me in all that. I get your brilliance. I’m all over your brilliance like…ya know. Then we get a visit from Ricky Steamboat. You know around Wrestlemania when I commented on his possibly hotness? Errrrm, yeah, I’m gonna need to take that back. Thanks. It was the dad polo under his suit jacket that reversed his appeal. A step too far in to the aged-area.
Ricky thanked Jericho for challenging the old duffers to a match at WM because it gave him the chance to return to his former glory, which Y2J beat down with a verbal stick, and challenged him to a repeat performance. Pause in the script and whooooooooooop here comes John Cena to put his arm around Steamboat and do a whole “Don’t pick on my mate!” schtick! But he didn’t. Chrissy-boy slinked out of the ring, Ricky Steamboat accepted the Wrestlemania rewind match and John Cena challenged Chris to a match that night. Yuuuuuuum! The two of them shirtless at the same time. Jericho didn’t seem too pleased, but I like to think that’s just because he was worried he wouldn’t look as hunky next to John. John being so enormous and all. It’s alright, sweets, I lust you both equally. Mwah!
I have no idea what the Chavo Guerrero/Batista bit was all about. An odd comedy time filler. I’ll give it no more of my precious time. Backstage Shane and Dave were lined up to give me my first Man-Hug Moment of the Week but then Shane, like a complete pussy, pulled out at the last minute. Bloody hell Shane, it’s just sweat. It won’t burn your pale Connecticut skin. Doesn’t he realise I LIVE for the man-hugs?
Next CM Punk Vs Kane. I had been crushing on Punk all week so I was looking forward to his appearance. Ummm, has he always worn those lavender coloured short-shorts, or is it just because I’m paying particular attention to his crotch now that he’s moved up in the hotness league. And why do the light colours seem so much more revealing? I digress. Punk won the match, proving that wearing lady knickers is conducive to success.
I’m still maintaining my Santino Embargo, so I won’t say anything about it. Melina beat Beth in her last match on Raw and we’re backstage again with Shane and Triple H. They DID have a man hug moment but I’m pissed off with Shane for retreating from the first one so I’m not giving him the satisfaction of being in another. Let that be a lesson to you, Sir.
On we go and it’s time for John Cena and Chris Jericho. Good God – I think I died and went to meat-head heaven. Speaking of meat…………ok I was gonna make a joke about me being the filling in their sandwich but it’s just too obvious.
The crowd revealed themselves to be unmistakably British during this match. This country hates a good-guy. Seriously, when someone does really well the first reaction of this nation is to bring them down. No wonder we have national self-esteem issues. Maybe that’s why I loves me some USA. I like championing things. The crowd – they boo JC, then they love him. They chant expletives at him, then they’re all “Ohhh yooou caaaan’t seeee meee!” Make your mind up, London.
In actual wrestling terms it was a pretty good match. Between the physical strength of JC and Jericho’s imaginative moves, it made for an entertaining dalliance, both chucking in their signature moves, both battling like troopers, even if it didn’t really mean anything. It all fell apart when Edge, the ultimate opportunist (thanks, Michael Cole), interfered and left Johnny lying in the ring. He battered him some more before dragging in some of those special “steel” chairs. Instead of smashing John’s face in with furniture, he just counted him out for ten. Phew! John’s lips are safe!
On to Rey Mysterio Vs Big Show. You know what I love about wrestling? That logic plays no part whatsoever. Your educated brain says that the biggest guy in the company could not possibly lose to the tiniest, and yet your wrestling fan brain says “You go for it little-guy. We believe in you!” On this occasion Big Show won. It’s ok, Rey. You’ll live to fight another day. Actually he did. He was in Cardiff the next day signing encyclopedias. SOB!
We finish with our main event of the night. Am I the only one getting fed up with the whole McMahon family Vs Legacy tripe? I loved it at first but when Triple H won the belt back at WM I started to lose heart. Maybe the peeps in charge have started to realise we’re getting bored because in the middle of Hunter’s entrance they paused to give us a random web-traffic statistic.
We interrupt scheduled programming for this important announcement: Boys like wrestling more than they like Oprah!
Why are they doing Triple H/Orton now? Aren’t we gonna see it ALL OVER AGAIN ON SUNDAY? Well, Monday for me. The match was fine but my storyline related grumpiness overshadowed the moves. It ended in a mass brawl with everyone involved in the Sunday main event knocking lumps out of each other. Shane’s rolling punches and jabs are hilarious. He was most definitely born in the wrong age.
Randy pinned The Game and feigned a thigh injury to end the night. *bad sigh* Thank god this story comes to an end at the weekend. Sheesh!
FAVOURITE CROWD MEMBER OF THE SHOW
This little dude. He has no idea what a sycophant is, but he knows he should be booing Chris Jericho when he says it. Awww.
Make love, not war
April 22, 2009 at 11:46 pm | In Blog War 09, WWE | 2 CommentsTags: Blog War 09, WRESTLING, WWE
Against my better judgement, I registered on Twitter on Sunday. I figured it would assist me in coming across other young ladies who think wrestlers are fit, and help to find other like-minded folks to share blog links with. So I went about my business, checking people out, clicking on the links to their websites.
As I was clicking through, wondering if I was the only one who got it that the WWE is not real life, I came across the boys at LOL, Wresslin’. Heeeey, they’re just like me, I thought. They too understand that the WWE is brilliant and absolutely hilarious, often for totally the wrong reasons. I scanned through their pages and LOLd at their adventures in wrestling. I even noticed that they stole the same picture of Dave Batista from WWE.com as I did. And, I put a link to them on the front page of my blog. I figured anyone who enjoyed my scribblings would enjoy theirs too. See, I’m nice like that.
I decided to make an attempt at strengthening that ’special relationship’ between our two nations and extended a virtual hand of friendship.
I should have known better. Why? Because they are blokes. American Blokes. Competitive American Blokes. My boyfriend is American. And competitive. I should have recognised the type. Instead of being polite and returning the handshake, they did the virtual equivalent of this……..
Thanks guys. Boys! Urgh! Not only picking on a girl, but picking on the NEW girl. Shameful. What, do you punch kittens in the face just for kicks too?
They even had the cheek to suggest that I had ‘taken inspiration’ from them. Shocking! Especially as I didn’t even know they existed until Sunday. You really do give me no choice but to morph in to Supernanny and put you both on the naughty step until you learn how to behave yourselves.
My first reaction to being called out went a little something like this………………………………………..
……….and yes, I WAS drinking tea when I read it. Fo realz! At first I figured it was just some kind of ’sarcasm initiation ceremony’. Like I was being inducted in to some form of blogging Hall of Fame by the Masters of Comedy. But then I’m not sure that Americans DO sarcasm and irony. At least, that’s the impression they give off when passing through US Border Control at several airports.
So then maybe I figured it was the internet equivalent of when boys yank on the pigtails of the girls they like in the playground….’cause girls are EEEEEWWWWW and if their buddies thought they liked a girl, well, they’d never let them take part in ‘recess Raw’ ever again.
Isn’t there enough room for all of us on the interwebz? I don’t wanna fight. I’m a Welsh rugby fan. You know how we roll, right? No? Oh ok, I’ll edumacate you.
Let’s make love, not war…..that’s my motto. I can’t make love by myself. Well, I can, but it’s never quite as satisfying on your own, is it? And besides, unless you plan on declaring John Cena as your number one shag-buddy choice, or you plan on doing this kind of shit……………….
we’re kind of singing from different wrestling hymn sheets, are we not?
Whaddaya say fellas? Group hug?
Sealed with a 1970s kiss of peace:
Rey and Ray…..destined never to meet
April 22, 2009 at 1:30 pm | In Rey Mysterio, WWE | 5 CommentsTags: CARDIFF, Rey Mysterio, WRESTLING, WWE
So there I was, making my way in to town on my lunch break, walking quickly because I only get an hour to be back at my desk. I was almost at my spiritual home, Queen Street, when the Keith Urban track I had been strutting along to on my iPod began to fade. The phone was ringing. It was my brother. What did he have to say?
REY MYSTERIO IS IN HMV!
AAAAAAARHH! I thought he was winding me up. I thought I might get there and find my brother standing in the doorway in a Lucha Libre mask. But no, Rey really was in HMV. I hung up the phone, threw it in my bag and hot-footed it down Queen Street. If I got to press palms with Rey, it would totally make up for the fact that I couldn’t attend any of this week’s British WWE shows. Yeh, I know…..wah-wah-wah! Poor me.
I got to HMV and started casing the joint like I was head of CSI Cardiff. Ok, ok, let me see here. Line of people waiting…..lots of peeps in wrestling t-shirts milling about….not-so-burly security monkies ushering fans in to a metal grid like a collie herding ewes……just need to see what time this whole shabang kicks off.
I located the poster…………
3:30pm
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
I had to be back in my crumby office in about 40 minutes and it was only 1:20pm. I was DEVASTED! I mean, come on, how am I supposed to just sit in my office signing off letters to people who don’t care about their contents when Rey Mysterio….Mr. 619 himself…….. is signing off WWE Encyclopedias a 15 minute walk away? Seriously, you be trippin’.
I love Rey. We’ve got the same name and, ok, the spelling is slighty off and mine is kind of a nickname for my full name, but still. Whether you’re a Ray or a Rey……we Rays gots an unspoken bond. Aaaaand he’s little. Short. Tiny. Like me. He probably has trouble seeing the stage at gigs (like me), his jeans probably drag along the pavement because standard jeans are too long (like me) and he no doubt has to suffer tall guys pressing their sweaty armpits in to his face when crushed on to a packed commuter train (like me).
Alright, so he probably doesn’t spend much time on public transport, but I’m sure if I got the chance to discuss this issue with him he’d TOTALLY get it. ‘Cause we’d be tight like that. If, you know, I ever got the opportunity to have a pow-wow with him. Ray and Rey Talk it Out…….sounds like an excellent title for a talk show.
I hung around the HMV area for a while, looking like a lost puppy, not knowing what to do with myself. I knew I had to go back to work and yet I could not tear myself away. Almost like waving someone off at the airport. You know you gotta go and yet you don’t wanna vacate the terminal until their plane had taken off. I called my brother to inform him that life pretty much sucks and in a cruel but kind of comical move he reminded me of that classic Simpsons episode where Homer goes in to space. Remember? Yes you do. Towards the middle off the episode Homer starts doubting whether he should go in to the cosmos or not…..as you do. The conversation ends something like this……………..
Homer: You’re right, Marge. Just like the time I could have met Mr. T at the mall. The entire day, I kept saying, ‘I’ll go a little later, I’ll go a little later…’ And when I got there, they told me he just left. And when I asked the mall guy if he’ll ever come back again, he said he didn’t know. Well, I’m never going to let something like that happen again!
ME = Homer
REY = Mr. T
I work on the premace that everything in my life has appeared in or can be explained by an episode of either The Simpsons or Seinfeld. Expect more references as we go along this Wrestlegasm journey together. Let’s hold hands.
I called my boyfriend and whined down the phone to him about my misfortune. I moaned about all the people wandering around in wrestling t-shirts. “Those are your people, Ray!” he guffawed down the phone. He tried to persuade me to ditch going back to work but it couldn’t be done. Blue of soul and heavy of heart I began sauntering my way back up Queen Street to make my way back to work. I shuffled my way past the growing line of people spewing out of HMV. If any of these people are you….Hi. I hate you.
I can only think that these people are one of the following:
- Unemployed
- Students skipping lectures
- Children expelled from school for doing knee drops on each other in the playground
- Homeless folk mistakenly thinking they’ve found the soup kitchen line
Lucky buggers!
Forgetting why I’d actually walked in to town in the first place and realising I still hadn’t had any lunch, I made my way in to the nearest Starbucks and ordered a grande Earl Grey with two tea-bags to cheer myself up. I had a quick look around to see if any of the wrestlers had popped in for a discreet soy latte. Well, you never know. I could have asked them to sign my cup. Alas, they did not appear. Maybe choosing the Starbucks opposite Pound-Land was a poor choice for wrestlegasm chasing. Cheapie shops don’t usually attract celebs.
The Earl Grey with two teabags did not cheer me up. In fact, my lid was leaky and dripped brown gunk all over my light grey linen trousers. I later found that those same trousers also managed to pick up someone’s berry-flavour chewing gum off the pavement on my way back to the office. Why do you hate me, universe?
I tried listening to Keith Urban singing Romeo’s Tune…..that always makes me feel light and airy. Nope! Not today. So I slipped in to full drama queen mode and listened to Carrie Underwood singing Just a Dream – possibly some of the saddest lyrics ever penned. The chorus goes a little something like this:
Baby why’d you leave me
Why’d you have to go?
I was counting on forever, now I’ll never know
I can’t even breathe
It’s like I’m looking from a distance
Standing in the background
Everybody’s saying, he’s not coming home now
This can’t be happening to me
This is just a dream
Ok, so this song is actually about a woman attending her soldier-husband’s military funeral. A little bit more traumatic than my situation. Ok, I feel bad about that now. Sorry about that. I’d cut it out, but I am telling a true story here.
I’ll laugh about this one day. One day….when I’m at Wrestlemania with my Media Pass swinging around my neck. The Media Pass that Vince McMahon put in my hand himself. That last part was a step too far. Lovely daydream though.
I’ll catch you next time you’re in town, Rey. Just gimme a buzz. The soy lattes are on me, babe. Yeeees, you can have yours in a cup with your face on it. *rolls eyes* Wrestlers, eh?
WOMAN, WRESTLING FAN, LIKES FASHION – HEEEEEELP!
April 19, 2009 at 6:02 pm | In Chris Jericho, Merchandise, WWE, Women's Issues | 7 CommentsTags: sports, sports merchandise, WRESTLING, WWE
Ok, WWE. You know I love you an unhealthy amount, but I’ve got a bone to pick with you. I am giving you the cold shoulder, pulling my sucking-lemons face and making you sleep on the sofa until you apologise to me.
What’s that? You don’t know what you’ve got to apologise for? Typical. Typical. I could go down the route of “if you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you!” But that would achieve nothing, so if I’ve really got to spell it out for you…….your merchandise for women is COMPLETE CRAP!
There. I said it. When I first started watching wrestling back in around 99, there was no such thing as the woman’s t-shirt. The only slightly female related merchandise was some gross jewellery that nobody with even an ounce of fashion savvy would hang from their face. Bleurgh! Even the men’s t-shirts were rubbish. They were almost always black, screen printed atrocities that looked cheap as chips to churn out. Occasionally they would bring out special edition football style jerseys or hockey jerseys, but I didn’t have any of them. I couldn’t afford them. I remember lusting over The Rock’s football jersey…..or did I just lust over The Rock IN a football jeresey. I forget. This is what one of the merchandise catalogues looked like in 1999.
Yep, I kept it. I’m kind of magpie like that. EVERYTHING in there was black-black-black. But we knew no better then. Poor 1990’s fools. With the launch and immense popularity of brands such as Afflication clothing, and the increasing popularity of mixed martial arts, the WWE needed a complete overhaul of their clothing designs. Fair play, they did a good job. They introduced colour, emulated the intricate artwork of their competitors and, even though I’m not personally keen on most of the designs, they significantly upped their game in the shopping department.
They now have a Retro/Legends section, where you can buy some of the most famous shirts from yester-year, and some fun-stuff too. I like that. It shows a bit of humour, and bit of jest, which is what it’s all supposed to be about, right?
And, of course, there’s the new(ish) luxury range of pricey, but super-trendy, slim fit shirts – Top Rope. I do kind of like some of these shirts. They have an air of effort about them. But come on WWE….$45 for a shirt is a little over-the-top ain’t it? Is that why they’re called Top Rope shirts? Eh? Eh? I suppose people must be paying for them or they wouldn’t keep making them. About as close to a rival brand for Affliction as the WWE is likely to get.
All this progress would be admirable if one key customer group hadn’t been ignored – the ladies. Girls, women, chicks, gals, broads, birds, whatever. We. Have. Nothing. Ok, nothing is a little strong. But it’s not far off. And it makes me madder than Triple H when Randy Orton kissed Stephanie’s mush right in front of him. I saw a WWE statistic this week which claimed that 40% of WWE fans are women. That’s brilliant. That’s almost half your viewers. You wouldn’t know it by looking at their shopzone pages.
It all started so well. A new shirt appeared on the back of some superstar on the shows, and as quick as you could navigate your way to the shopzone, it was there. Soon after it would appear in the women’s section with a slightly different cut, to accommodate our curves. I bought the Triple H double-skull t-shirt in women’s cut and didn’t even mind that it was the same price as a man’s shirt (despite being half the fabric).
As time went on though, the women’s cut t-shirts dried up to a trickle. I checked regularly for new products. Nothing. Yet the men’s section was flooded with new stock continuously. To those thinking “why don’t you just buy a man’s shirt then?”….. I shall try to explain. Just because we’re ladies who like wrestling, it doesn’t mean we want to look like boys. It’s ok to want to watch two men do elbow drops on each other from a great height and still want to look feminine. I want to look sexy while I scream “PUNCH HIS HEAD IN, JERICHOOOOO”. And I don’t mean we want you to go completely the other way and dress us like this either…..
Oh Mariah! You over-sexed pop starlet.
Female sportswear can be cool without being manly or slutty. If you need some pointers, check out what Alyssa Milano did with MLB. I’m not much for baseball (isn’t it just a suped-up game of rounders?) but I like the effort they’ve put in to the women’s merchandise. From what I hear, Alyssa had a huge hand in bringing this about. Bravo, pretty-lady. Not all these are from Alyssa’s range, but it just goes to show what you can do with just a little imagination and some female input.
Even if you don’t want to go that far, just release every new t-shirt in a women’s cut. It’s not difficult. You’ve already had the design work commissioned anyway. You’ve already asked for it to be made in a youth size. Just go that extra step, you know, for 40% of your viewers. The frustrating thing for me is that I want to buy WWE merchandise. I do. I have money to spend and I want to put it in Vince McMahon’s pocket, but I refuse to buy a man’s shirt because it’s the only thing available. I know it won’t fit properly, so you miss out on my money.
For example, here’s the current Chris Jericho shirt.
He doesn’t wear it too much at the mo because he’s being a besuited baddie. But when I first saw it, I wanted it. I was willing to pay my hard earned cash for it. It was never released in a women’s cut. Hey, WWE, that’s $25 you missed out on, fools. Your loss. Look, all I’m trying to say here is that if 40% of WWE fans are female, the WWE have a HUGE merchandise market they’re not tapping in to. HUUUUGE! The possibilites are endless. I even find myself looking at the kids’ jewellery because they women’s stuff is so tasteless. The kiddie stuff is kinda cool, in a pop-art sort of way.
Let’s take a look at what is currently available on wweshop.com.
Click on CATEGORY, then WOMEN’S. There is a link to some hideous jewellery, a link to ONE really old vest, a link to some over-priced women’s belts and a link to seven t-shirts. SEVEN. Two of those are ‘Diva’ shirts, two are for LAST YEAR’S Wrestlemania (urgh), one for this year’s Wrestlemania (which is actually ok), one is for Triple H and the other is for Undertaker. Because all the ladies love the Undertaker, right? NOOO! Good grief! If you think to go to the main men’s long-sleeve t-shirt section, you’ll find a new John Cena shirt for women, which also shows up in John’s space, but not if you go to the Women’s category first. WTF?
WWE, please get a grip. You can make the female fans happy AND increase the corporate bank balance with a little extra effort. I believe that’s called two birds with one stone. And if you want me to fly out to Stamford to give my approval on some new designs, just send me the airfare and I’ll hop over the pond at a moment’s notice. The ball is in your court.
Raw(Lite): It’s Getting Drafty in hurrr
April 18, 2009 at 7:51 pm | In Big Show, CM Punk, Chris Jericho, Cody Rhodes, Draft, ECW, Edge, Evan Bourne, Great Khali, JR, Jack Swagger, Jerry 'The King' Lawler, John Cena, John Morrison, Kane, Kelly-Kelly, Kofi Kingston, Legacy, MVP, Man-Hug Moment, Maryse, Matt Hardy, Melina, Michael Cole, Michelle McCool, Mickie James, Natalya, Randy Orton, Raw, Rey Mysterio, Santino Marella, Shane McMahon, Smackdown, Ted DiBiase Jnr, The Miz, Todd Grisham, Tommy Dreamer, Triple H, Vicky Guerrero, Vladimir Koslov, WWE | Leave a CommentSoooo, it’s all been happening in the WWE this week. Let’s start with Raw and the annual WWE draft. Just like any long-running TV soap, there are a few regular stories that keep things ticking along but, essentially, tonight is all about the draft – management shaking up the snowglobe of superstars and watching those sparkly boys and girls fall in a different spot to where they once settled.
Last year it was all about shifting things around so that the spread was a little more even and every brand not being treated as Raw’s bitch. I wondered how it would all pan out this time around. I was super-excited. That moment where the screen starts speedily flicking through all those faces makes my fingers tingle. Being that I’m a few hours ahead of the American broadcast, I had to go to sleep while it was going on. Boo! I went to bed singing……………………………
Lots to get through, so let’s get cut the crooning and cracking. The first draft pick of the night was to be decided by Rey Mysterio (Raw) and Evan Bourne (ECW). Evan Bourne is cur-ute. I think I need to start paying more attention to ECW. Really. In fact, excuse me while I check my Sky+ planner to see when it’s on……ok, I’m back. Rey Mysterio pinned Bourne and won the first picky for Raw. This early in the show it’s gonna be someone fairly low-rent. It waaaaas…..
MVP. Hmm. Ok. I have no real feelings either way regarding MVP, other than he has some of the lamest entrance music in the WWE. Get some cool music and I might kinda like ya. Totally up to you. You either want my love or you don’t. I’m guessing he couldnt care less about my love, but whatever. On we go.
Kane (Raw) Vs The Brian Kendrick (Smackdown). A mis-match if ever I saw one but, as we know, size doesn’t matter in the WWE. It’s not what you got but what you do with it. And, errr, *whispering*who the writers say will win. Ahem. Kane won fairly swiftly and scooped another draft pick for Raw. Is wasssss……
Yeah. Fine. Whatever. I suppose all that pre-Wrestlemania stuff won him a spot on Raw.Ummm, bravo Big Show?
After Randy Orton had a verbal tustle with Mrs. Guerrero (see my last post for the video) it was time for a little behind-the-curtain fun, and you should know by now it’s my favourite source of humour. So there’s John Cena, you know, just hanging out, chillin’, illin’, chit-chatting with one of the production crew when all of a sudden…………….
Ahhhhhhh. I love when John cracks jokes. THE CHAMP IS HERE. HEEEEERE! *sigh* I also love when he puts together a little combo of hilarity and seriousness. Yes, Jack Swagger, you ARE punk kid who likes to run his mouth. John will give you a lil lesson on respect! Because he said so. And because I said so too. I love when we think the same thoughts. 
Time for a dollop of Diva action. Michelle McCool/Natalya/Maryse Vs Kelly-Kelly, Melina and Mickie James for another draft pick. Oooooh check out Todd Grisham being all King-Like. Melina can lick your stamps any time? Reeeeeoooaw! You naughty boy, Todd. Well, as you said yourself young man, you’d better get that vintage stamp collection out from under your bed ’cause the Smackdown ladies kicked some tail and Melina got drafted over. Don’t let your glasses get all steamed up, Toddy.
Neeeeext! Two draft picks on the line with John Cena (Raw) and Jack Swagger (ECW). Much as I doubted it, I kind of thought they’d let Swagger win; to give two picks to ECW and to introduce Swagger to those who don’t know who he is. Oh Ray, don’t be foolish. John Cena won. Of course. It was, however, one of the longest matches of the night, so maybe that was their way of saying “Dear all, this is Jack Swagger. Get used to him, he’ll be around for a while.” So, the picks. Which too vagabonds made their way to Raw?
Actually, Matthew Hardy, I CAN see you, but I don’t wanna. Put your hand down before John puts it somewhere the sun don’t shine. Who’s next?
Oh no! Triple H goes back to Raw. Well, I’m not surprised. Observe that smug look on his chops. It says “I’m going back to Raw because I can do whatever the hell I wanna do! I married the chairman’s daughter. What are you gonna do about it, bitch?” Ok, I’m starting to feel annoyed for Smackdown and ECW now. Big hugs to everyone on SD and ECW. Yeah, because giving hugs is such a chore for me. Edge attacked John Cena from behind (to remind us of the bigger picture) and on we go. Randy Orton is still feeling anxious backstage and he seeks the comfort of his foot-soldiers – Rhodes and DiBiase. They delight him with their plan. He likes it. He likes it a lot. Time for some more drafty-drafty.
Santino Marella (Raw) Vs Khali (Smackdown) in one of the most ludicrous storylines I’ve witnessed in ages. So, I won’t talk about it, I’ll just say that Khali won, FINALLY getting another pick for weary Smackdown. And let me say, I am VEEERY pleased with this one.
I know people get a bit miffed when their faves get drafted to (allegedly) lesser brands, but I love seeing top peeps on Smackdown. I’ll be watching it anyway, so having lovely boys to look forward to is a nifty little bonus. CM Punk is a big, juicy bonus. Yuuuuummm.
Onwards and upwards for The Miz (ECW) and Kofi Kingston (Raw). Kofi won. Raw won. AGAIN. Urgh! And the pick izzzz……The Miz. JUST The Miz. No Mr. Morrison to hold his hand. Uh-oh! Michael Cole said it best “THE BROMANCE IS OVER”. It was so “DUUUUUDE! NOOOO!” Aaaand it produced a man-hug moment, which you know I can’t get enough of.
But then it all went horribly wrong. The Miz, drunk on success, turned on Morrison and left him writhing in agony in the ring. Oh dear. Miz. You’ve chaaaanged, man.
Next a Battle Royal involving all three brands, which left Big Show (in his new Raw colours) and Edge alone. Edge flipped Show over the ropes to win two draft picks for Smackdown. Ok, now things are looking up for SD. Numero uno……..
Ok. Fine. I don’t care much for Kane. I don’t dislike him, I just don’t care when he gets involved in stuff. He should never have taken his mask off. I liked him better when I thought there was a hideous creature under there. Back in the day he gave me the spooks. Now? Nah! And secondly………………
AAAAAAAARRRGHHHH! YES! MY GUY! CHRIS JERICHO. I know there were LOTS of people unhappy with this one, but really, there’s only so much greatness you can fit in to Raw. On Smackdown he’ll get a, much deserved, bigger slice of the pie. And just imagine, an All-Canadian alliance between Edge and Jericho. Excuse me while I use the cuff of my hoodie to wipe the sides of my mouth.
On we go. Whew! This draft is looooong! My fingers are getting weary. But I will keep going. For you. Aww. I’m nice. Next we have Christian (ECW) Vs Shelton Benjamin (Smackdown). Let me just say, I’m loving that Christian is back. He funny boy. The good kind of funny. Take note Marella. Anyway, the match. Christian won and ECW got a draft pick. FINALLY. It was Vladimir Koslov. THANK GOD. Fellas, listen up. If you’re not REALLY FUCKING HOT, don’t wear white briefs in public. If you do, you run the risk of being drafted to ECW where nobody will see you. Got it? Good.
How many are we up to now? Oh I’ve lost count. Next, CM Punk (now Smackdown) and Matt Hardy (now Raw). Matt took Punk out and Raw drafted……
Yeah, well, you can’t have two belts on one brand, so fairly predictable. NEEEEEEXT!
My honey, Chris Jericho, is back, now representing Smackdown, and is taking on Tommy Dreamer from ECW. Jericho won (poor ECW) and, in a flip-reverse-thingy from last year’s draft, Smackdown clawed back……
YEEEEY FOR REEEEEY! I love Rey. 33.3% because we have the same name (with different spelling), 33.3% because he’s good to the kids when he does his ringwalk, 33.3% because he jumps so bloody high in the atmosphere. Smackdown is Rey’s home. I’m glad he gets to go to back to from whence he came.
The draft is over! Phew! I need a stiff drink after all that. And a tiny little cushion for my battered finger-tips. I wonder if Chris Jericho’s pecs would make a nice finger cushion. Or how about a lip cushion…..yes. Excuse me, I need a moment to think about that…….
Oh. Hai. You’re still here. Sorry about that. Triple H, Batista and Shane O’Mac took on Legacy in the final match of the night. No draft picks on the line, just a little thing called the WWE Title. Triple H made the pin, leaving him to take on Randy Orton next week. Sorry that part’s so short, but it kind of played second-fiddle to the draft this week.
FAVOURITE CROWD MEMBER OF THE SHOW
This dude, looking like a teenage boy who’s just transfered from an all-boys grammar school to a mixed boys-n-girls school in the city. Yes, boy, those are breasts. All women have them.
——————————————————————————————–
By the way there was a supplemental draft on Wednesday. Make of this what you will, I’m off to pour a nice drink……..
Kennedy to Raw
Shad Gaspard to Smackdown
Alicia Fox to Smackdown
-Primo to Raw
Mike Knox to Smackdown
Ezekiel Jackson to ECW
Nikki Bellato Raw
Candice Michelle to Smackdown
Zach Ryder to ECW
Chavo Guererro to Raw
Ricky Ortiz to Smackdown
Layla to Smackdown
Hornswoggle to Raw
DH Smith to ECW
John Morrison to Smackdown
Carlito to Raw
Natalya to ECW
Festus to Raw
JTG to Smackdown
Dolph Ziggler to Smackdown
Brian Kendrick to Raw
Charlie Haas to Smackdown
Hurricane Helms to ECW
Brie Bella to Raw
Rumour Mill: From the Mean Streets of Stamford
April 16, 2009 at 10:32 pm | In John Cena, Legacy, Matt Hardy, Randy Orton, Stephanie McMahon, Vince Mcmahon, WWE | 1 CommentWhile my technology gets a grip on itself, I thought I’d give my opinion on a cute little story that came my way this week.
The word on the mean streets on Stamford, CT, is that our John Cena is feeling restless. It’s ok. Don’t start doing a Jerry Lawler scream. He’s not restless as in “I wanna give it all up to start a cake decorating business”. More, “I wanna hang out with my best bud and change my character a bit”. John Cena? A personality transplant? I’m not sure how I really feel about that, but I find the idea intriguing and more than a little arousing. And his request involves Randy Orton, which knocks the intrigue/arousal level up a few notches.
In case you weren’t aware, John Cena and Randy Orton are best friends. They’re Bros. They love each other, in a kind of ‘if you had boobs and lady-bits I’d totally marry you, maaan’ sort of thing. I know. It’s hard to believe, right? But apparently true. Which goes to show just how good Mr. O is at acting bad. Or is it John acting good? No. Never. I cannot imagine John is an arsehole in real life. It must be Randy’s great acting skills. Phew! I cannot even entertain the idea that John Cena is not a nice guy. My brain rejects it.
When I first heard about it several months ago, I scoffed. No way. They are, like, ENEMIES! Randy almost killed JOHN’S DAD!!!!
Ok, sometimes I get a little carried away with the storylines. But I didn’t quite believe it was true. At the time Randy was getting in to all kinds of scrapes behind the scenes. At one point I thought he was in line for a big, fat YOOOOOOOU’RE FIIIIIIIRED! A real one. Maybe it was John who turned Randy around. Well that’s what I like to think anyway.They have actually been holding hands for quite some time. They came up through OVW together. They turned their scrawny bodies in to sculpted masterpieces of manhood, together. They hoped but never expected to headline the grandest stage of them all, yep, you guessed it, TOO-GE-THAAAAAH! Awww!
It’s kind of hard to find pictures of them together….especially recent ones.These are all I could find.
John, I know you love Randy. As you say, he is the best performer of our generation. But there’s no need to kiss his ass. He loves you back already. By the way, why is Matt Hardy watching?And what can he see from his side that’s putting such a big smile on his face? I need to know.
Even though there is no photographic evidence of it, I do like to imagine they split a chocolate protein shake, press their cheeks together and pout while Randy holds his camera-phone out in front of them for a quick-pic. (Pretty much like every teenage MySpace profile picture.) Kind of far-fetched but a nice little fantasy. 
But to be serious for a moment (and to get back to the actual rumour) John has apparently approached the writing team asking if he can work with Randy Orton and Legacy. That’s right. Work WITH. Not AGAINST. I’m trying to imagine it. Bad Bad John Cena. I dunno. I kind of dig the thought of him being mean and moody, but I’m not sure the production team would get on board with the wrestling equivalent of Superman turning heel. Remember in Superman III when our hero became a baddie towards the end of the film? It didn’t fit. It feels all wrong inside.
Maybe Randy will have to be a sweetie-pie for a while. He’s half-way to being a fan favourite anyway. I mean, did you hear the cheers on Raw this week? We’ve TOTALLY forgotten that we’re meant to hate him. Observe……..
John Cena ain’t gonna be John Meana (get it?) so the best he can hope for is that the writers let him have a play-feud with Legacy. Kind of like getting your boss to work you on the same shift as your boyfriend at McDonalds so you can flip burgers together. Speaking of the writers, you may have caught ESPN’s brief profile of Vince McMahon on Tuesday. If you’re not in the US (same as moi) you can watch it on every foreigner’s friend, youtube. Anyone who’s seen the Mr. McMahon DVD won’t get any new info on our favourite boss, but those writing-room meetings they sat in on. OH MY GOD. WRESTLEGASM! We NEVER get to see that. I kind of thought it might ruin the illusion. A bit like when you see the voices being recorded in Disney films. But it didn’t spoil it. It made it better. And it made me smile when Vince asked ESPN to leave half way through. Because there ALWAYS have to be SOME surprises. Fabulous!
Just a final thing about filthy rumours. I like to pretend I don’t listen when I hear of some tabloid story that has been manufactured to sound scandalous. I’m even sceptical when fans write hate stories about when they met their heroes. We don’t always have he full facts, ergo, no judging. But the stories about Triple H being dismissive to fans at WM25 really disappointed me. Even to the point where I took down my Triple H trading card and replaced him with CM Punk . These would be the cards I buy from time- to -time to have neat little photo-cards of the fellas on my desk at work. Yes, I’m a grown woman who buys trading cards. No, I don’t play games with them, but I do lie and tell the smarty-pants person behind the counter they’re for my nephew if they make a comment. I don’t have a nephew. I’m so cool. Triple H, you can come back out of my drawers when you learn how to be a good boy. Oh lordy, so many jokes about drawers, so little time.
Coming up this week
April 14, 2009 at 10:50 pm | In ANNOUNCEMENTS | Leave a CommentTags: Raw, Smackdown, wrestlegasm, WRESTLING, WWE
It’s a very busy week at the WWE, which means the guys and gals of Stamford are giving me plenty to cover in my first full week at Wrestlegasm.com
- The annual WWE draft took place on Raw last night throwing up all kinds of interesting employment shifts.
- Tonight, on ESPN in the US, there will be a profile of Vince McMahon.
- A brand new one-hour show – WWE Superstars – starts on Thursday Night
- ….and we have Smackdown on Friday
I will do what I can to cover everything. Being in a different time-zone to the shows puts me at a timing disadvantage from the start, but I shall do what I can to keep up this week. Being that I just launched and all. My plan was to do a full recap of the draft tonight but technology has not been my friend this evening. FRUSTRATION! So I’ll be playing catch-up all week. And I have a rant about the shopzone to put out there for you too.
Stick with me though. It will be good.
Smackdown(Lite) Broken Men
April 13, 2009 at 11:47 pm | In Backlash, Edge, John Cena, PPV, Smackdown, WWE | Leave a CommentTags: Backlash, Edge, John Cena, Smackdown, WRESTLING, WWE
I’ve kind of run out of time this week. The WWE Draft takes place on a special 3-hour Raw tonight and I haven’t even reviewed Friday’s Smackdown yet. Boo-hoo. Don’t question me. I have very valid reasons, ok?
In general, most of the superstars seemed a little worn out. Fair play, they had that long Wrestlemania weekend where they were pretty much on duty 24/7. Then Raw, live, on Monday. Then the taping of ECW and Smackdown on Tuesday. The boyz and girlz iz sleepy. And kind of broken. So, I’ll just pick out the real stand-out moment from Smackdown, Edge, a truly broken man.
When he first appeared, perched on his bar-stool in the middle of the ring, I thought he was going to burst in to song. I was expecting him to seranade us with One For My Baby, light up a cigarette and slam his empty scotch tumbler on the bar. If, that is, there was an actual bar there.
What he actually told an unsympathetic crowd, was that he hadn’t slept in a week and that he was crushed by the fact that his title had been stolen from him by everyone’s Mr. Wonderful – John Cena. You know what? Edge doesn’t get enough credit when he pulls this stuff. He’s so good, I don’t think the audience realises just how well he’s acting. Although, I’m pretty sure those bags under his eyes are as genuine as the suitcases under mine.
As amazing as Edge is at making the crowd hate his guts, John Cena is just as brilliant at getting the crowd to lick his….err….wristbands. Out comes my lovely, smiling, ray of sunshine …..peacocking about with his new bling. OOooOoOorgh! Your lips look gorgeous tonight, John. But, ahem, that has nothing to do with the segment, just an observation.
Moving on…… things start to get a little dark. Damn, Adam. You’re so good at this. Adam Edge tells John how he has no purpose without his Heavyweight title. How, stealing his golden life preserver has left him adrift and how he brought Cena out to let him know just how broken he was feeling. John and the crowd weren’t buying it and he RSVP’d with a slow, precise, perfectly timed……
“Get over yourself, Edge! You, lost, at Wrestlemania.”
SWOOOOOOOOOOOON! But that was just the beginning.
John dragged his stool in a little closer, after being told that he ruined Edge’s life, and got serious. I LOVE-LOVE-LOVE when John gets really serious. He drops ‘Brand Cena’ and seems like a real person. The meeting of their two opposite characters was, as usual, awesome. Edge, so shaken and desperate, John, so controlled and secure. John gave Edge a speech that left him, well, speechless. And as he went to walk away this beautifully manic piece of psychological tennis ensued:
“I hate you. I HATE YOU! Hate. Hate is a strong word but it sums up everything I feel for you Cena. I hate your hat, I hate your t-shirts, I hate your wristbands, I hate your shoes, I hate your music, I hate the C-Nation, I hate everything that you stand for.”
Check out that under-eye luggage. You need an icy flannel and some rest, darling.
But oh no….fuck yeah…..J-to-tha-C’s about to lose his rag. Time to put a stop to flaky Edge with a big, definite NOOOOOOOOO!”
The crowd, at this point, are totally sucked in. And so am I. John gets a lot of shit for being Mr. Corporate. Sometimes it is easy to forget he’s where he is because he’s a nice little package of everything. John’s next little ‘moment’ seals the deal for me. Take it away baby………
“You, you may be a better wrestler than me. You may be smarter than me. You may know how to use your opportunities and resources to get you a championship but I look in to your eyes right now I know you’re desperate. You’re grabbing at straws. You’re tired. You’re exhausted. A last man standing match. A LAST MAN STANDING MATCH? Edge, that is a match based on PUNISHMENT. And I can look in your eyes right now and know I’m telling the damn truth when I tell you I’M TOUGHER THAN YOU. That is why IIIIII will be the last man standing, that is WHYYYY YOOOOU. HATE. ME.”
Holy mother of god. I think I’ma gunna faint from over-stimulation. Someone pass me the smelling salts. And an icy flannel of my own. *Southern Belle Accent* I do declare, Mr. Cena, that I am a little overcome with the tumultuous events of the evening. Would you please be a gentleman and escort me back to my chambers, sir? *wink*
Oh….and just in case you were wondering………………….
“It’s not the hat….it’s not the wristbands….. it’s not the t-shirt, it’s not the dog-tags, IT’S THE TRUTH! Because you think about all those matches we’ve had, you think about every time we’ve beat the hell out of each other, every time you’ve ran back at hit me with everything you had….and then WATCHED. ME. GET. BACK. UP. You hate me? You hate me so bad and it’s gotta come to an end? You wanna end it, end it RIGHT NOW! COME ON!”
At this point I passed out from extreme passion OVERLOAD. Luckily, I recorded the show so I was able to watch the rest of it afterwards. After much posturing and shirt removal, a demoralised Edge left the ring without harming a hair on Cena’s head. I went somewhere to catch my breath.
You know what, I could have just posted a link to this on youtube, but then I wouldn’t be a writer, would I? If you do want to watch it, and I recommend you do, click here for part 1 and then here for part 2.
Enjoy the draft, guys. I’ll catch ya on the flip side. Yo!
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