So this is it. A whole year of Wrestlegasming. Pretty cool, eh? Set the fireworks off, send me expensive gifts  and drink champagne til you feel too tipsy to walk home. Technically, I didn’t purchase the Wrestlegasm URL until 11th April, but the first posts I wrote started the week before Wrestlemania 25, so in wrestling terms, this blog is a whole year old. In the grand scheme of the internet, it’s just a baby. But I’ve seen so many blogs come and go (especially wrestling blogs) so I’m very proud that it’s not only still running, but that it’s evolved and grown within the last year too.

That's how it looked as a newborn.

That's how it looked as a newborn.

I used to have another wordpress blog where I wrote about general topics of interest; TV, sports, music, popular culture. But it never really generated much interest. It was mainly just a space for me to write about things I enjoy. I didn’t really care if anyone was reading or not. Then I  started writing about wrestling and it was so much fun, it seemed like there was nothing else for it but to set-up a wrestling blog.

I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect to run it for more than a few weeks. Writing about one topic, I figured I’d get bored quickly and ditch it. I was wrong. The thing about wrestling is that there’s so much material, it’s impossible to be bored for very long. Sure, it has slow weeks. Slow months, even. But that’s how it goes with any soap opera/sport. There’s always something new just around the corner and as a source of comedy wrestling is a comedian’s dream. Sometimes, I almost feel like a fraud. It practically writes itself. I won’t keep you here too long. I find all this self-praise a little nauseating. But I did want to have a swift look back at how we made it through this first year.


If you were around at the very beginning, you may remember that this blog started with a war. Those boys over at LOL,Wresslin’ accused me of plagiarising their picture of Dave Batista and, just like many an international incident, it was founded on lies and blown way out of all proportion.

Total coincidence. I swear.

Blog War ’09 took flight and ran for a couple of months. Things got quite messy. I even found a My Little Pony head in my bed one night. *SHUDDER* I’m not entirely sure who won the war. Scratch that. I totally won, with my British wit and superior military manoeuvres. But we’re all good friends these days and even though they’re keeping a low profile at the moment, both Adam & Matt are all-round good chaps.


Ah yes. Crotch Watch. I have a love-hate relationship with Crotch Watch. It was certainly popular but after a while I just felt a bit silly writing about the trouser-meat the male wrestlers were packing. It all started when CM Punk wore some particularly revealing lavender coloured trunks at the end of April. Their light hue made his moistness a little more obvious than the standard black trunks. From there, I was hooked and a total sucker for CM Punk. That tiny triangle of spandex below has a lot to answer for.

Anyway, Crotch Watch has since gone to the big blogging playground in the sky, but I’ve replaced it with Strut, Pose, Turn – the new fashion segment. Here’s the first post in case you missed it. There will be a new fashion post up later in the week, but for now I like to think the spirit of Crotch Watch lives on in all of us. *weep*


By the time the summer rolled around, I felt like I wanted to try something new. The natural progression seemed to be a podcast, but I was so terrified of my abilities as a host, I couldn’t even bring myself to call it a podcast. I just called it an audio post, recorded it, posted it and hoped for the best. Thankfully, the response was overwhelmingly positive and I’ve done a few more since then. I even started to enjoy them.  I’d love to record something weekly, but timing constraints don’t really allow it. All being well, I’m hoping to recap Wrestlemania in podcast form, but we’ll have to see if my body and the technology co-operate. Cross your fingers if you just can’t make it through life without listening to me chit-chatting about wrestling.


Autumn into winter was a busy time, starting with the (fake) arrival of Honourary Dean – Matt Striker. I felt that I needed a mentor to guide me through this Wrestlegasm journey. So I (fake) interviewed him, gave him the job of being Honourary Dean of Wrestlegasm and helped him to move into his (fake) office in the Cardiff Wrestlegasm Bunker. I then asked him to write a little report on his first few days in the bunker. If you don’t understand the genius of Matt Striker and why he and Wrestlegasm are such a good match, you can click here. If you’d like to read his report, just visit The Dean’s Office at the top of the page.

Not my fingers, BTW.

As he’s preparing for Wrestlemania, Matt can’t be in the bunker this week for the birthday celebrations. He did, however, send me one of his signed trading cards by way of a birthday card. Look:

Rumours that I bought this card on eBay a week ago are a complete fabrication!


Memories, memories. The WWE tour the UK just twice a year and this time around I was able to go to two shows. This sparked Cool Britannia Week, where I recorded every sordid detail of the shows I went to, meeting Gail Kim and Kofi Kingston, the TV recaps, my post-wrestling blues and a special Favourite Crowd Members. It was an amazing week and I still can’t believe I was just six inches away from running my hand over HHH’s torso. I just couldn’t  quite stretch my arm that last few inches across the barrier.

So close, yet so far. (img: property wrestlegasm.com)

You can read all the posts by clicking here, scrolling to the bottom of the page and gliding your way back up through one of my best weeks ever. The second Cool Britannia Week takes place next month. Sadly for me, the WWE didn’t see fit to come across the Severn Bridge to Wales this time around. 😦 But I’ve arranged some alternatives that should make CBW II loads of fun. Besides, I’ll get to live vicariously through Sidekick Andrew, who’s popping down the road to Manchester to watch a spot of Smackdown. That leads me nicely on to……


It gets a bit stressful running a recap-based blog by oneself. There’s a lot of work to do and if you throw in trying to be hilariously funny every week too, it’s nice to have someone to share the load with at times. With this in mind, I started persuading my artist/designer friend Andrew that he should put his immense wrestling knowledge to good use and start recapping ECW for me. It took a lot of persuasion, but he eventually agreed to be my sidekick. He’s now part of the Wrestlegasm furniture to such an extent that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to blog alone. It’s great!

Ummm. He's very shy. And not actually gay.

Of course, ECW is no more, but Andrew now does a marvelous job of recapping NXT. We LOVE NXT!!! Also, being the complete indie wrestling geek he is, he may start guiding those of us who cling fiercely to the mainstream (including me) through the largely uncharted waters that are indie wrestling. He’s made a start by writing a spectacular new post entitled Wrestlegasm’s Top 10 Female Wrestlers. The link takes you to part one. The second part should be up towards the end of the week. You can read all of Andrew’s posts by clicking here, scrolling to bottom and reading your way back to the top.


To be honest, I’m still pretty stunned that a year has passed already, so to think we’re going into year two has taken me somewhat by surprise. The hope for year two is to continue to entertain you, to try and come up with new ideas and to stay completely in love with wrestling, even when it does me wrong.  In the immediate future (meaning this week) the aim is to post something new every day until Wrestlemania, to thank you for a whole year of support. This will include some regular features, some recaps and a few of my favourite WWE moments from the past year. So, from me to you……..

Thanks for reading through a year of Raw, Smackdown, ECW, NXT and PPV recaps. Thanks for listening to the podcasts . Thanks for the piles of comments you’ve left. Thanks for following my Twitter account and making Tweeting through the PPVs at stupid o’clock in the morning so enjoyable. Thanks to the people who wrote guest posts. Thanks to Adam & Matt for being super-cool and (much as I hate to say it) teaching me about comedy. Thanks to Andrew for being the bestest sidekick ever. Just….thanks. I hope you’ll stick around for year two.  *HUGS & KISSES*

One final note. During the same time that I was getting Wrestlegasm off the ground, a fine fellow named Razor was setting up Kick-Out!! Wrestling. In blogging terms, I like to think of Kick-Out!! as my more sensible brother. If you’re looking for somewhere to read unbiased and entertaining commentary on wrestling, regular radio shows and a plethora of recaps, Razor’s your man. I know how difficult it can be to keep a blog running for a year, so congratulations to Razor on a year of fantastic content.

Actually, THIS is my final note. Sorry. Couldn’t resist!


royal rumble voicemail – LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN

The one where I plug my collaborative live Royal Rumble blog with LOL, Wresslin’, announce that Crotch Watch is taking a very long hiatus, mention the forthcoming one-year anniversary of Wrestlegasm and say “cool” and “ummm” way too much. Someone buy me a thesaurus for my birthday.

crotch watch: brand new decade edition

I’ve been getting  a steady stream of requests for a new edition of Crotch Watch for some time. I, in turn, have promised to write it and have (predictably) failed. Nothing to do with the subject matter, you understand. Although, being a first class pervert requires far more effort than one might imagine. I have just been rather busy. I spent  a few weeks in USAville, then I had a spot of jetlag over Christmas week, then I was overcome by the spirit of a Victorian lady, then I had lounging in my PJs til lunch time to do, and sale shopping, then I had a new Xbox 360 Elite to play, then I had to travel to West Wales to spend NYE with family and friends, then I got back into town on the coldest train ever on Friday and…… you get the idea.

By the way, Happy New Decade! I spent New Year’s Eve on a pub crawl in Tenby and spent New Year’s Day filling my lungs with clean, fresh, ocean air on a very chilly beach, where I collected shells and pebbles and wrote topical, thought-provoking messages in the wet sand.

Being this clever is such a curse.

The air was so pure out West that my body didn’t know what to do with itself. Even though the whole of South Wales was covered in ice and snow, and even though it was very late by the time I got back to the city, I strapped myself to a skateboard, grabbed on to the back bumper of my neighbours’ car and sucked on their exhaust pipe while they drove around the block to replenish all the toxins pushed out by the healthy seaside air. Return to city life complete. Anyway, you don’t care about any of this, do you? I mean, I could tell you about my New Year’s Resolutions, but as Mercury is retrograde I’m delaying finalising my resolutions until it begins moving forward again and until the second lunar eclipse has passed. Look to the skies, people.

Now, let’s start the year as we mean to go on and objectify men who run around in their under-crackers. There hasn’t been an official Crotch Watch in ages but my Hell in a Cell recap was an interim edition so it hasn’t been that long. We should probably start with my Crotch Watching muse, CM Punk, who inspires perversion without even trying that hard. I mean, he even wore seasonal trunks for Halloween.

Subtle but effective. He's almost as clever as I am.

I was getting worried about our CM. That semi-religious tip he’s been on lately has been killing my buzz. But just as I was losing hope, that hairy horn-beast whipped out his infamous lavender trunks and dragged me back in. And before anyone tries to argue with me, yes, I know they look a bit grey and washed out but they definitely ARE the lavender trunks.

As I mentioned, I am now the proud owner of this plastic chest of magic known as the Xbox and I was thrilled see that the virtual CM Punk wears said lavender trunks in his Smackdown vs Raw 2010 matches. Or at least the ones I’ve played so far. Game on!  And before leaving Mr. Punk alone….. to start the year off with a bang, Punk wore his black and white tanga briefs on the New Year’s Day episode of Smackdown.

Is Punk growing his chest hair but still waxing his stomach? Weird.

Staying with Smackdown, either John Morrison’s narcissism has reached such heights that he’s taken to plastering his face over his junk, or, he’s trying to cover up something he doesn’t want us to look at. To be honest, most faces are prettier than junk, so if you’re going to cover it up with someone’s face you might as well make it a beautiful one. If that happens to be your own face? Lucky (genetically blessed) you.

Let’s shift brands and head to ECW. Now that this blog covers ECW activities I should touch base with those ‘extreme’ boys. Oh and if you’re wondering what’s happened to Andrew’s ECW recaps, have no fear, as soon as Christmas is over and he’s finished assembling all the toys Father Christmas left for his kiddies, he’ll be back in the WG office. I’ve given him a few weeks off to enjoy his kids. I know I’m a bit grumpy at times but I’m not Ebenezer Scrooge to Andrew’s Bob Cratchit, ya know. Anyway, Andrew seems rather taken with Shelton Benjamin’s package. He mentions it often and appears to have developed an inferiority complex. Not being in any way familiar with Andrew’s family jewels, I couldn’t possibly give an opinion, so we’ll just take his word for it and let Shelton take the floor.

Oi! William Regal! Stop crushing Shelton's bits with your beer gut. Andrew obviously switched the original picture I chose for this one. Hometown boys sticking together. Pffft!

And while we’re with ECW…..

The boy just needs to make a decision. He should resolve to go one way or the other in 2010. There’s no sitting on the fence when it comes to lower-body lycra. Choose your level of exposure and run with it. Although, if you go with high exposure, run with care.

Lots has changed in the WWE since the last Crotch Watch. I mean, who would have thought Sheamus would be a main eventer on the flagship show so soon? Even more shocking is his appearance in Crotch Watch. Don’t misunderstand. My interest in his groinal area lies purely in the fact that a man of Celtic heritage has the WWE Championship belt wrapped around it. I have no interest in exploring below the belt, so to speak; but I take note of wrestle trunks with any form of wording on them. Now that he’s ascended to the top of the food chain, Sheamus has sewn himself some home-style trunks with ‘LAOCH’ written across the crotch.

Apparently, it’s Gaelic for ‘Warrior’. I’d honour my Welsh heritage by having ‘RHYFELWRAIG’ stitched across my wrestling outfit, but I don’t think it would fit across my wrestle-knickers. It’s kind of a long word, as is the norm in the Welsh language. We have the longest place-name in the world, you know.

Yes, I can actually pronounce it correctly. If you don't believe me I'll prove it in the next voicemail or podcast. (IMG via VirtualTourist.com)

Sticking with the flagship, The Miz’s transfer from puffy pedal-pushers to trunks is now complete, and to celebrate he now wraps his stuff in a delightful shade of mauve for special occasions.

Also take note of Drew McIntyre's side-sparkles.

And just in case you haven’t been keeping up with your ‘wrestlers on Twitter’ during the holiday season, you might like to know that Ted DiBiase Jr is now spamming plugs for his new movie on Twitter at regular intervals. There are but a few professions where walking around in such little clothing is totally natural, nay, expected. But even wrestlers wish they could pull on a pair of thermals to keep the frost from biting their bits from time-to-time.

Don’t worry, Teddy. Just make that layer of baby oil extra thick and that greasy film will keep your skin warm and supple while walking around outside in your knickers. So I hear. Unless Ted was less worried about feeling the cold and more concerned with showing the cold. Understandable stood next to Randy Orton.

Think warm thoughts, sweets.

At this point I would normally do a little Divas fashion bit, but I can’t be bothered. So, here’s a nostalgic video sent to me by one of the Wrestlegasm faithful. You know that theory that news anchors don’t wear trousers under the news-desk? I like to think Matt Striker does the same behind the announce table. Until I prove that theory, I’ll just watch old videos of when Striker was a wrestler. Watch and enjoy, you bunch of disgusting crotch watchers.  You really should be ashamed of yourselves.

All my love for 2010,

Ray – Your trusty enabler  xx

hell in a cell: suspense? what’s that?

Remember when I skipped recapping Breaking Point because I ran out of time and people got upset with me for ignoring the opportunity to salivate over the Cena/Orton gay-fest? And remember when I said everything would be ok because there was another pay per view coming along in a couple of weeks? Yeah. I’d give anything to go back and recap Breaking Point and skip this one instead. Alas, I cannot. So I’ll make the best of it.

When I was in high school I dabbled with the idea of being a script writer for TV. That dream was never realised. But I do have several books on script structure and narrative.  They all speak of suspense. Narratives which gradually build to an exciting  and surprising conclusion to keep the viewers guessing and watching for as long as possible. The most interesting stuff happens at the end. Hardly rocket science. Just common sense really.

For this PPV, the people in suits must have sat around the boardroom table and thought “Hey, you know what would be totally awesome? If we put all the matches in to a lottery machine and stacked the card in whichever order they come out, regardless of how important or interesting they are!” Alfred Hitchcock must be spinning in his grave. But I’m sure he never cared about professional wrestling, so I’ll jump straight into the match that should have been on last but was actually on first, CM Punk vs The Undertaker. Oh, and since there was quite a bit of trunkular activity during this event, consider this post to be your latest instalment of Crotch Watch. Two for One.

As matches go it wasn’t bad. And it was made 100% better by the fact that Punk made the decision to wear his lavender trunks again.


On Sunday morning, when I was wondering which trunks Punk would wear at the PPV (for real) I thought to myself ‘he’ll never wear the lavender again. They’re just too feminine.’ I’m very pleased I was wrong. Although, the illusion that the only thing he wears is those skimpy pants was smashed to pieces when I realised he had a second pair under the lavender.


The other unfortunate event was that The Undertaker won. I suppose it was inevitable considering the terrible injustice he suffered at Breaking Point, but I would have liked the story to continue a little longer.


John Morrison was up next against Dolph Ziggler for the Intercontinental Championship. This week, Marie Claire magazine’s Twitter feed alerted me to a fashion feature on their website entitled How to Wear Leopard Print. These were their suggestions:


Doesn’t Dolph look fierce? I like how it started with the fingerless gloves. Then progressed to the waistcoat at Breaking Point, only to complete the ensemble at HiaC with the trunks. You can’t just slap people round the face with animal print. It needs to be introduced gradually. I also enjoyed JR and Todd Grisham discussing which particular animal skin Ziggler had encased his junk in. It’s quite clearly snow leopard, guys.

The match itself was actually rather enjoyable, but there seemed to be long periods where it went totally flat. Unlike Ziggler’s hair-do. I don’t know if there was something in the New Jersey air, but it seemed to become increasingly fluffy as the match went on. Taking the Siegfreid and Roy look a little too far indeed, Mr. Ross.


Morrison won the match and made it 2/2 for Team Face.

It’s tag-team time and Josh Matthews was primed and ready to welcome Rey Mysterio back after his 30 days of writing out ‘I will always remember to bring my prescriptions to school’ over and over again. But Batista was so excited to have his bestest pal back, he insisted on doing the introductions himself.


Now, you may have missed it, but this event was sponsored by the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles video game. Just in case you don’t know what they look like, they showed up at the PPV to have a dance in the crowd.


My favourite was always Michelangelo. He was the goofy, funny one. He appealed to my sense of humour. Which, remarkably, has changed very little since I was a small child.

From there we moved back to the Raw brand where Alicia Fox was trying to dethrone Mickie James as Diva’s Champion. I won’t lie, this match was slow. Apart from Mickie’s bedazzled purple bra-top and when she almost ripped Alicia’s head off when she pinned her for the win, kind of a dud. Maybe all those people who said Alicia Fox wasn’t ready for a PPV slot were right. I stand corrected.


When Rey Mysterio came out for his tag match with Batista against JeriShow, the atmosphere was so frosty, I filed the whole encounter under ‘forgettable’ before it even got started. Obviously a very unforgiving bunch of people in Newark. But Rey got by with a little help from his friends and all of a sudden the audience were begging the little guy for make-up sex. Once that was done, Big Show swatted Mysterio like a fly as he jumped from the top rope, pinning him to keep the tag titles with JeriShow.


I believe that's called taking one for the team. Poor Rey.

So, because the running order is all screwed up, the other main event was up next, even though we hadn’t yet seen the US Title match, the DX and Legacy match or Drew McIntyre vs R-Truth. Suspense ahoy! The cell was back down and we prepared ourselves for THE match of the night. Right? WRONG! Even I, who always finds joy in the bromantic love between John and Randy, started rolling my eyes and wondering when the match was actually going to get started. Or end. Either would have done. Their cell scrambling on Raw the previous week was more exciting.

Just three weeks after winning the title at Breaking Point, John Cena dropped it back to Randy Orton. Then this happened………



This nonsense was followed by R-Truth vs Drew McIntyre, which was exciting to me because it was the first time McIntyre completed a match. CROTCH WATCH ALERT! There are many ways to publicly display your pride in where you come from. Drew McIntyre demonstrated his by wrapping his kneecaps and hips in  diamond encrusted Scottish flags. I loves ya a little more every week.


Unfortunately, it was a Friday night match sneaked into a PPV through the back door. Jim Ross said that Drew “may be the greatest superstar from Scotland to ever be in the WWE.” Oh relax, smarks. Piper’s Canadian.

At this point I started rubbing my temples the fight off the tension headache I was developing in anticipation of writing this recap. But The Narrative Gods suddenly smiled upon me and took us to the locker room. Thank you. Randy was looking sad. But why?


Ted and Cody joined Randy and tried to cheer him up. Cody suggested that once the show was over they should all put their affliction t-shirts on and head out on the town. Lock up your daughters, fathers of Newark. But Randy wasn’t in the mood for a pub crawl and suggested that they might not feel like a party after they experience The Cell for the first time. Ted assured Randy that they would walk away victorious and full of energy. Cody wasn’t pleased with his snake-like mentor and suggested that his grumpy behaviour reminded him of his DAD!


Next, The Miz, Jack Swagger and Kofi Kingston were going at it. My Dad happened to arrive just as The Miz was sauntering down the ramp and instead of turning the TV off to chat with my father, I made him watch wrestling instead. I know how he hates it so. The conversation started like this.

DAD:  Oh God, who’s THIS?

ME: The Miz

DAD: What a stupid name. How did he come up with that?

ME: His name is Mike Mizanin.

DAD: I see. Has he got ‘AWESOME’ written on his willy?

ME: Yes. Because he claims to be awesome.

DAD: Has he even got a penis?

My Dad raises a good point. Maybe Miz had some extra tight trunks on that night. Or maybe he’s a lady. I’m sure it’s just an optical illusion like when everyone thought they saw Fergie readjusting her package.


I can’t tell you much about this match. I spent most of the time trying to explain to my Dad how a triple threat match works and why it would not be advisable for Kofi to allow one of the other two to pin each other so he only had one left to beat. Thankfully for Kofi, he didn’t take my Dad’s advice and managed to retain the title.


My Dad was bored so I agreed to turn it off for a while. By the time he left it was time for DX vs Legacy and, shock of all horrors, I actually enjoyed it. I like to think Vince McMahon was backstage screaming that it was up to them to save the show. There were high-jumps and lock-outs, there were chair shots, there was a sledgehammer and there was an appearance from CM Punk’s patented chair necklace.


When DX won I actually cheered. The only genuine squeal of excitement I let out through the entire show. I hope this recap wasn’t as painful to read as it was to write. If so, I’ll do better next time.

crotch watch: it’s been a long time, baby


It’s been quite some time since the last edition of Crotch Watch and judging by some of the emails I’ve been getting, it’s long overdue. Also, lovely Abby is getting married on Saturday and I’m giving her a final chance to be a non-married pervert. Married perverts are the WORST! :p

CM Punk’s trunks have been jumping all over the the place lately, and not just because he’s got a new lady friend. Amy ‘Lita’ Dumas got the note he passed to her in gym class that said “Alls I need to know is if you’re gonna be my girlfriend!” and she replied favourably. We’ve gone from the beautiful canary yellow of Summerslam, back to the white, the black n green, to the royal blue, back to the sunshiney yellow…… you get the idea but I think we need some pictures just to be sure. My photoshop is trying to make me cry so you’ll have to make do with a brief oselection of what I could pull together.




You’re welcome, ladies. You’re welcome. Does anyone else think the white ones seems to have taken on a tanga shape? Not a complaint, just an observation.

In the last Crotch Watch I bared my soul and revealed my CM Punk naked laundry dream. Since then I have had one other Punky dream, but not nearly as entertaining. Although, he was wearing the white trunks again and the world title belt, and it involved limousine. That’s all you’re getting. I do have SOME dignity, you know.

So huge has Crotch Watch become, that even heterosexual men are now contributing to it.  Mr. A.P Southern of somewhere near Blackpool way alerted me to this picture this week. It raises an important question……


Whaddaya say, people? It’s a tough call. It could be that Punk’s trunks are exactly the same colour as his heavily bronzed thighs. Or it could be that he wanted to just let it all hang out that day. Never let it be said (again) that I don’t provide content that encourages lively and intellectual debate.

Now that Mr. Punk has been inappropriately objectified, let’s move on to see what’s been going on with the fashionz in other areas of the company.  Since The Miz made his way back to Raw under the initial guise of The Calgary Kid, he’s been making miraculous strides in his pursuit of the the US Title. Who would have thought that switching to trunks would have made him, well, good? Maybe it’s like when fertility doctors recommend that men get a little air to their crown jewels so that their swimmers don’t overheat. The Miz is obviously enjoying the breeze.

Oh and what was I saying about hetero men contributing to this site? I recently found this stuck to my facebook, courtesy of a Wrestlegasm footsoldier.


Ok, it was courtesy of my good friend, Matt, who took his niece to a house show in Flint, MI. But footsoldier sounds cool. Thank you, Mr. F. I’m surprised The Miz is allowing that sign to share the same airspace as him, but if someone from Flint told me I was a bedwetter, I think I’d probably give them the benefit of the doubt and walk away slowly too.

In other news, Randy Orton delighted me beyond belief at the Breaking Point PPV last Sunday. No, nothing to do with possibly the most homo-erotic match ever to grace our TV screens (I’ll come back to that in a day or so. *sigh*) It was actually his interview with Josh Matthews. As you know, I love a good Josh Matthews interview, and while Randy sat in the lockeroom contemplating his match with John Cena and being a total prick to Josh, I noticed this……

Check out the gallery or trunks above the title belt.

Check out the gallery of trunks above the title belt.

You see, Randy Orton doesn’t just reach in to his laundry and pull out the first pair of clean trunks that jump in to his hand. Oh no. When you’re packing that much in, you need to consider which are the most suitable for the show and your mood. Alright, so Randy only really has one mood. But different occasions require alternate groin-wear. I like to imagine Randy gets Ted and Cody to unpack his kitbag and line all the trunks up while he paces back and forth, picking them up, stretching them out, holding them up against himself in the mirror, before finally settling on a pair.


As for my favourite girly fashion moment, it’s been quite a while so there’s a lot to choose from.

My favourite in-ring offering was the fierce new outfit they’ve given to Natalya. Cuteness. And I hope some new clobber means they’ll be giving her a little push from here on in. The girls are dropping like flies at the moment.

It has a maple leaves and hearts on it. Because she's Canadian. And a (Nied)hart. Genius.

It has maple leaves and hearts on it. Because she's Canadian. And a (Nied)hart. Genius.

The stars came out to play at Summerslam this year and who doesn’t love seeing wrestle people in normal party clothes? It’s such a novelty. It’s mundane and yet you cannot stop yourself from looking. To quote one of my favourite trashy chick flicks “I love seeing teachers outside of school. It’s like watching a dog walk on its hind legs.”

I like to see a little bravery when it comes to fashion. I like to see a little thought behind a special outfit. So the award for best dressed went to Alicia Fox.

Frazer Harris/Getty

If anyone knows where this dress if from, please email me. I want it. And to all the fools who questioned the headband, open a fashion magazine or a music magazine, FFS. That whole outfit is about as on-trend as it could be.

Also, Maria. Everyone pointed and laughed at her sequined butterfly hair accessory. Why? At least she TRIED. Unlike some of the others who grabbed at the first thing the wardrobe lady handed out.

Kisses straight back atcha, honey.

Kisses straight back atcha, honey.

Final fashion award goes to Melina. Check out Mr. and Mrs. LA being all….LA!



Would I wear that dress? Nuh! Never. But she rocks it. So I give you a big fashion-squeeze, Melina.

That’s all for now. There will another Crotch Watch when I get round to….. errrr…. watching some more crotches, I guess. And I suppose, now that he’s moving up the ranks and all, I’ll finally have to address the Zack Ryder issue. Now, go back to that picture of nudey CM Punk and inspect it even closer. I know you want to.


As I have mentioned before, finding time to update this blog can sometimes be tricky. But I can guarantee you that it’s never far from my mind. This was never more evident than this Wednesday night when I actually created some content for the blog IN MY SLEEP. Now, I wouldn’t normally publish Tales from My Subconscious, but since it’s relevant to the Crotch Watch segment (whoa, big surprise) I feel like I should share. Don’t worry, it’s not that sordid. It was surprisingly un-sordid (is that a word?)

So, the dream. It starts in a unisex locker room (unisex = co-ed, for the North Americans). I have got a swimsuit on and I’m washing my hair under one of the showers. In walks CM Punk. He’s just finished a match with whomever he was pit against and gets in an already filled  bath, which happens to be opposite my shower. He still has trunks on. They’re the white ones, in case you care.

Then went a little something like this.

They went a little something like this.

He’s on a post-match high, babbling incessantly about the moves he pulled off and how pumped the crowd were. I nod along and respond at appropriate junctures. He appears to know me quite well and doesn’t seem surprised that I’m there. He rinses himself off, gets out of the bath, takes off his trunks and hands them to me. As my good pal Emma Monkey said when I relayed this sleeptime fairytale to her, ANYTHING could have happened next. It was MY dream. What actually happened was that as he handed me his trunks he said “Wash these for me next time you do some laundry?” I took the trunks and he walked off (naked) to get changed.WHAT? In the dream I was totally cool with this and said yes. When I woke up, I was quite annoyed with myself. I need to master lucid dreaming. I could have given that dream a whole new outcome.

My subconscious SUCKS!  It seems I am nothing more than a washer-woman for CM Punk’s sweaty wrestle shorts. Excellent! Even my sleeping brain is against me. It may be that I’m just missing the famed lavender and white trunks. Since Punk went full on super-heel, he’s been wearing deep, dark colours. Dark blue last week, then black and red stars this past Friday. Well, let’s be honest. Lavender doesn’t necessarily scream “I’m gonna kick you in to the middle of next week!” These are “take me seriously or regret it” trunks.


Have you ever had any wrestler related dreams you’d like to share with the interweb? Feel free to leave a comment, but nothing so vulgar I’ll have to delete it. You know who you are.

Honourable mentions for this exciting installment go to two of the Raw roster.  First up, Randy Orton. Who emblazened his groinal area with a yellow design based on the spiked tribal tattoo across his back. I do actually notice these little details, you know. Nice work, my friend. If he’d asked I would have put him in this post anyway, but the fact that he’s gone that extra mile and had some new trunks made is very impressive.



Second honourable mention goes to The Miz. Last week he was a tights wearing loser, having been booted out of the company as the result of a lumberjack match against John Cena. A week later, he returned in communicado as The Calgary Kid. Of course, once all was revealed and The Miz showed his face, the initial excitement tempered. But what a difference a week makes. The trunks definitely look better than the tights. Kind of like when you wear a short skirt and cropped  leggings thinking the leggings will make your legs more slinky. Not necessarily so. I suspect he’ll go back to his regulation tights tomorrow night, but hey, for one week only it was su-weet.


My favourite girlie outfit came in the form of Gail Kim’s Raw outfit this week. Red and gold glitter = FIERCE!


Tyra would be so proud.

One final thing, now that Kelly-Kelly has taken some advice and has invested in some professional wrestling boots, she probably has several pairs of high-top sneaks hanging round her house. Since these guys are always on the road and don’t have much luggage room, she won’t really need them, so I’m quite happy to take them off her hands. I’m renegotiating my style at the moment. A couple of pairs of high tops would fit right in. Thanks, Kel.


crotch watch: it’s back….and bigger


While I was touring America, I received a request. Ha. ‘Touring America’ sounds like I’m a rock star. Only in my head, kids. Only in my head. Anyway, yes, the request went like this:


…and because I’m all about giving the people what they want, Crotch Watch is now a feature all on its own. Hard-hitting journalism at its best, I’m sure you’ll agree. It may not be a weekly feature, but you can be assured that I’ll have my binoculars and night-vision goggles to hand at all times, and I’ll be making a note of all the important trunk, tights and trouser selection developments.

Now, I realise that dedicating a whole feature to CM Punk’s shorts smacks a little of overkill, so I’m quite prepared to monitor the trunkular choices of the entire roster, with a view to bringing you the highlights. And, because I’m an equal opportunities pervert, I’ll chuck some of the girls in there too. They will have to be general fashion observations though. I can’t feign interest in lady bits that aren’t my own any more than Kofi Kingston can fake melancholy.


So, on to the actual watching of crotches and it was a dark, dark week in the world of CM Punk. Everyone said…. Is he a heel? Is he a face? Is he kind of wishy-washy and falling somewhere in between the two? It was time for a statement of intent. An EEEEVILLL statement. Yep, Punk went full on bad dude on Jeff Hardy’s ass on Smackdown and only a black pair of trunks would do.

Admittedly, I would like to have seen the lavender trunks, if only to prove one can be a tough mofo in gentle shades of purple without feeling that one’s masculinity is under threat. Still, at both Night of Champions and this week’s Smackdown he plumped for the black shorts with green Chicagoan stars. These short are ‘I mean business and have got no time for pleasuring the ladies with pastel shaded spandex this week’ attire.


This is just a rumour, but I hear Punk wore the shorts from Sunday to Tuesday just so they’d be extra gross and have some additional nasal punch when he destroyed Jeff Hardy at the end of Smackdown. I am legally bound not to reveal my sources on that one though, so…..


I’m going to hope he calms down by the time they tape Smackdown tomorrow and will have changed in to some slightly more peaceful knickers. I’ll have a word. Leave it with me.

An honourable mention also goes to Dolph Ziggler this week. I’m sure he’s thrilled that he’s made his way in to the Crotch Watch Hall of Fame so early on. And I mean, who doesn’t love a pair of metallic boxer-briefs, right? I know I do. AMAZING!

The jacket needs to go. It has no fashionable function or practical purpose.

The jacket needs to go. It has no fashionable function or practical purpose.

Next time I’ll include some girls. I don’t want to alienate the blokes who visit this site. I love you too. Mwah!

PS> A second hug of gratitude to Randy who, despite having no matches on last week’s Raw, still refused to cover his crotch.  What a hero!

night of champions: swagger of a college kid

Alright, so, before I get in to the matches let me just say…. POOR. PERFORMANCE. PHILADELPHIA. What was with that crowd?  They bearly managed to lift out of their seats until Jeff Hardy started Swantoning all over the place. And that was the last match! I always imagine that cities and states with a particular connection to wrestling will rock harder than other places. Maybe they were distracted by the baseball season or something. Anyway, there’s a lot of bling exchanges to get through so let’s get cracking.

15DHDPretty much every NoC recap I’ve read has said this, but it was kind of telling that Legacy’s much anticipated match with Chris Jericho and a mystery partner was on first.  First matches aren’t generally the best you’re gonna get. They’re there to make sure the people stuck in line waiting to buy an overpriced hotdog and the PPV people at home who can’t get their viewing card number to go through don’t miss the biggest match of the night.

When Jericho announced he’d reveal a new tag partner at Night of Champions, the internet tom-toms started beating and all kinds of wild and wonderful names were thrown about. My personal favourites were the Undertaker, Randy Orton and Christian. How great would it have been for Randy to go up against his helper monkeys and win? Later to lose the WWE title, of course.  And how awesome would Jericho and Christian have been? Team Canada Part Deux? Amazing. Look, I’m even making up my own wrestlegasm moments now.  Anyway, what we actually got was Big Show. Ok, so kind of an anti-climax, but he totally redeemed himself by leaving giant paw-shaped slap mark on Cody Rhodes’ chest.

If it's make-up, don't spoilt it and tell me. I like to think he gave him a really good thump.

If it's make-up, don't spoilt it and tell me. I like to think he gave him a really good thump.

Jericho and Show kept the belts. Game on!

Next up CM Punk, the Maude Flanders of WWE, wanted to confront the audience concerning their debauched, toxic ways and accused the parents (sorry, paRENT) in attendance of damaging their kids.

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It’s strange, part of me thinks “who the hell do you think you ARE, Punk? Telling ME  having a beer is tantamount to shooting heroin in my arm?’ But there’s something a little bit tantalising about a boy THAT square, even if Preachy Punk is just part of a the character. It’s almost like he’s begging to be corrupted. If he ever wants to go the other way and clink pale ale bottle necks together with someone, I’m right here.

Drank a couple of bottles of these on an empty stomach and couldn't feel my feet. True story.

Drank a couple of bottles of this on an empty stomach and couldn't feel my feet. True story.

One question though, a tattoo is ink embedded in the pigment of your skin, right? A foreign chemical under your skin? Just sayin’.


Moving on, I don’t often give much blog time to ECW. It’s not that I don’t watch or love it, it’s just that I don’t have time to squash everything in here. I can confirm though that I am a total peep and every time Christian’s music kicks I get a funny little tingle in my fingers. We’ll call them Mini-Wrestlegasms. The match was solid and the two shared a lovely, bromantic moment when Christian took the title at the end. But you’ll have to wait til the end of the week before I tell you more about that. Man Hug Moments are now a special feature all of their own.


Alright, so next we had a Six-Pack Challenge for the US Championship, fought over by Jack Swagger, Carlito, Primo, The Miz, M.V.P and Kofi Kingston.  It went how you might expect a Raw mid-card match to go and wasn’t spectacular, but it was energetic and seemed to turn the key in the backs of the audience for a few minutes. Especially with this ménage à quatre.


Kofi kept the belt, which was probably a great weight off his mind, what with his dog having hernia surgery this week and all. (I ❤ Twitter) I do have a bone to pick with WWE though.  What’s with all the Waffle House hate? First The Miz tells Mickie James he predicts she’ll be reduced to working as a Waffle House waitress within a few years, then Jerry Lawler describes  Jack Swagger as “tougher than a Waffle House steak”? In the interest of fairness, you could have said Denny’s or Shoney’s or IHOP or Cracker Barrel or Bob Evans. Ok, not Bob Evans. Bob Evans is freakin’ awesome.

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From one thing that makes me feel fat to another – Michelle McCool vs Melina. It’s a sad day, people. Like all passing crushes, my girl-crush on Michelle McCool has come to an end. I’m not entirely sure why, but her voice started to grate on me and, ultimately, I tend to shake my pom-poms for faces. I always fall out of love with heels after the initial excitement. (Unless they’re Chris Jericho.)  So, I was fully in Melina’s corner, despite her Smackdown promo involving her chucking foundation powder all over Michelle. Must we ALWAYS use beauty products to fight, ladies? I’m looking at you too, Maryse! My brother informs me that that’s the only way girls know how to fight. I proved him wrong by punching him in the gut………. and sweeping some Jeff Hardy inspired liquid eye-liner across his face.

The match wasn’t bad, but they’ve probably done better on Smackdown. I should know. I actually pay attention to most women’s matches. I would have concentrated a little more closely on this one but the incessant screeching kept distracting me. Kind of like watching women’s tennis. Michelle kept the title, but it’s ok Melina. You’ll get another chance. And, alright, you haven’t got any gold to hang around your waist at the moment, but you boyfriend can hold jewels IN his waist. Hmm? Feel better?


Ok, time for a big ‘un. Triple H and John Cena try to capture the belt from around Randy Orton’s waist…..or his shoulder depending on what mood he’s in that day.  It started off kind of slow. There was all kinds of slipping under the ropes and posturing. Not that I ever complain about man parades but from a wrestling point of view… slow. But proceedings picked up and it turned in to a pretty good match. Hunter had Randy in a sharp shooter, John joined in with an STF and even the great Randy Orton couldn’t take the pain of the two of them on top of him and started tapping out. I’d be willing to give it a shot, but that’s for another day. Despite the submission, with both guys on top of him, the ref couldn’t decide whether to grant victory to John or Triple H. Tricky! The official scratched his head and consulted his mental rule book on what to do.


But all this dithering gave the helper monkeys time to scuttle in and remove the boys from Orton’s back.  John tried to put Cody out of action, but before he could adjust his attitude Randy stuck the RKO on John’s neck and took the match. Ok, I need to sit down for a moment to recover. What? You didn’t realise I write these things standing up?

I’m gonna go and sneak backstage to eavesdrop on someone’s conversation. Oh here’s something juicy – The Miz and Maryse. The Miz made his usual advances which, after initially encouraging, Maryse shot down in flames. The line between flirty retreat and outrageous tease is fine and it looks like Maryse travelled too far in the wrong direction.  When even The Miz is turning you down, things ain’t looking too crash hot.


It was the start of a bad night for Maryse, who went on to lost the Women’s Title to my new number one chickie, Mickie James.  The crowd were AWFUL for this match. AWFUL! And ok, it certainly wasn’t the best match they’ve had together, but apart from the odd wolf whistle and a decent cheer when Mickie took the match, nada.


It’s funny how things change. Who would have thought a year ago that Smackdown would dominate the final two matches of a PPV and that one of them would involve a former Spirit Squad member.  But Dolph Ziggler has moved up the ladder pretty swiftly over the past few months, and even though I was suspicious of him at first (mainly because of his hair) he was impressive in this match. Ok, so Rey Mysterio is a more than generous performer. But still, I thought Ziggler was kind of special and it makes me excited about the band of college educated athletes floating round the roster at the moment.

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As expected, Mysterio won the match, taking Ziggler out with a 619 once but he’d had his fun. But he gave him a gift of a match. Welcome to the big-time, sir. By far the match I enjoyed most but, oh dear, looks like Maria might be rethinking her choice of beau. She didn’t exactly run to his broken side, did she?


By the way, if you were as hypnotised by Dolph’s tiny, shiny shorts as I was, keep your eyes peeled at the weekend. I might have a treat for you. Wink-wink. Nudge-nudge. Say-no-more.

Final match of the night belonged to CM Punk and Jeff Hardy. Ok, listen guys. I wanted Punk to win as much as you did. You KNOOOOW how I feel about Mr. Brooks.  But all the marks need to take a Xanax (very un-Punk like, I know) and give Jeff his props.  He’s been working hard for a long time now and if you remember, he only held the belt for a few seconds before Punk cashed in his MITB contract and snatched it away. It’s not Jeff’s fault the powers that be decided to push him. He even asked for a break! It’s not his fault that kids are eating up the promos and feel connected to him.  Embrace! Rant over.

The match itself was pretty solid, as most of their matches have been, and it was awesome to see even more personality then usual from Punk. This strong Straight Edge angle has really brought him out of his shell and I LOVE it. Excuse me for going all-out girly, but there were points when my mind said things like “Oh My God, I don’t think he could look any cuter than he does right there.”


Punk put the GTS on Jeff but failed to make the pin. And again. And again. Exasperated, Punk took his ball (belt) and went to go home, hoping he’d be counted out, disqualified and remain keeper of the gold. But Jeff was having none of it and dragged Punk back in the ring by the ear.  A few minutes and a Swanton Bomb later – the title had changed hands.


Ahhhhhhh, it’s awesome to be back on my wrestlegasm throne. I missed ya. More before the end of the week and lots to come over the weekend.

UPDATE: As you will see from the first comment in the comments box, Maude Flanders was supposed to be Helen Lovejoy. Soz. A lapse of concentration on my part. But the dearly departed Mrs. Flanders  would not have been a Jeff Hardy fan anyway. And  you got the idea, right? No harm, no foul.   Huge thanks to my colleague, Adam of LOL Wresslin, for so graciously pointing out my error.