|Sunday February 13, 2005 12:00AM|
Bringing Home The Bacon
By Canadian Bacon
Hey there faggots, its your favourite neighbour to the north and king of the world and the internet even, Canadian Bacon!!!!!! Ya!!11
I know what yous been asking yourselves, “wheres the Baconman been at? My life is so lonely and kinda sorta empty without him telling me what to think!”. And you’ll be glad to know that I am back so you can stop being such a whiny pussy and celebrate!!! (I suggest having some Fluffernutter; it’s low cal marshmallowy peanut buttery deliciousness! In fact if God was a viscous white spreadable paste atop PB with no nutritional value whatsoever he'd be Fluffernutter!!!).
Anyways, the *real* reason I was gone for the last month is actually a really sad one for old Baconman. You see, I was ready to finally start my dream of becoming a real-life legit real wrestler (being the HUGE insider I am just wasn’t good enough), and eventually tearing up the rings of the WWF like one of our many rabid aquatic mammals , but things ultimately ran amok for me which is dirty Eskimo for bad I think. Anyways my big plan was to hop on a greyhound to Calgary and head to the Hart House to begin my quest and be trained by the man himself, Stu! Unfortunately there was the big time bad news awaiting me when I gots there. Apparently Stu Hart DIED two years ago! How could something like this happen and no one ever hear about it? Also, as it turns out Helen is goners too, which kinda spoiled my hope of sitting down to a bountiful meal in my honour with the Fam, as special dinner guest Brackus gave me an erotic shoulder massage and Keith Hart dazzled us with stories of being the world's craftiest fireman/ porn star! (A fireman who can apply a smallpackage is the man I want pulling me out of a burning building!).
But it was all for naught. The house now belongs to brand new owners and not very nice ones to boot. (Really. I kicked them right in the face, Barbarian-style and they totally NO-SOLD it!!!). They wouldn’t even let me take a few bumps in the basement, muttering something about it's their rec room now and I might break their furniture and to please put my pants back on. Bunk I say! Heck, even me insisting that I was practically kin to those Harts didn’t sway them one bit! (Me and Julius once stole Bruce Hart’s enormous sunglasses out of his gym bag in 1987 and I had sex with Julie Hart a bunch of times while Bret couldn't move his legs in 2003 so im practically the real deal).
I still can't believe it, though. Stu is gone. Talk about being selfish! The least he coulda done was hold out until I got there so he could teach me the rolling prawn and such before expiring. Anyways, Stu is with the jesus now in heaven and no doubts schooling the arch-angels on the finer points of Indian deathlocks (good thing Indians don't get to go to heaven or they'd be in bigtime trouble up there! Originating from Mud people? Seriously!). Which will no doubts come in handy when Armageddon rolls around and all spiritual heck breaks loose! (my source says it will be July 2; one day after Canada day. And I believe him cause he predicted Christmas would fall on the 25th last year and he was right.)
Anyways, R.I.P. Stu; you always reminded me of my own grandfather, except that you knew far more complicated submission holds and didn't rape me when I was 8. God speed.
Anyways, I guess I’ll just have to teach myself the sport of kings (right now Prince Charles is practicing his sunset flips just in case). I mean how hard could it possibly be? If a slippery pervert like that oily Daniel Puder can become a legit wrestler after all that pre-fabricated MMA stuff, surely I can! (and what’s with him calling himself a shoot fighter? I’ve never once seen him pull a gun on anyone. What a poser he is when it comes to gunplay! (He looks like he's a good kisser, though. I'll give him that.)).
So, ya, I’m ready to take on the world! I’m armed with cock and balls and the CRANE, by far the WORLDS MOST DEADLIEST MARTIAL ARTS MANEUVER. It was like gold for Ralph Macchio and it’d back me too up no doubts! (hopefully ppl will just stay still like that one guy did so I can kick them in slow motion!). I mean you don’t get much more LEGIT than Mr. Miyagi, right? And I just painted my fence last weekend, so I think I'm more than ready! Bring it on!
That kinda awesomely said, the WWF announced that they’re bringing back their Hall of Fame this year and part of me was really excited (my penis, kinda) until I saw that they weren’t inducting anyone good (Warlord is DUE) - so this gave me a bigtime super awesome idea: THE CANADIAN BACON HALL OF FAME. See, I’ve had this hall of fame in my head for YEARS and actually acted it out once with a couple of WCW toys I bought in the bargain basement bin at K-mart but the ceremony was ruined when my fat cousin Madison stuck Sting’s custom scanned rubber squeezable head into his asshole - leading to a bout of toxic shock syndrome and The Stinger never to return. (He swims now somewhere in the St. Lawrence amidst nacho-riddled recter). The whole thing pretty much went down hill from there. It’s a shame too, because the remaining ¾’s of the Stinger was about to be inducted and the post-ceremony banquet looked glorious. (thanks mom!)
Anyways, I scrapped the whole thing, but I’m bringing it back..and for REALZ this time. I don’t really have any set criteria but I don’t really have to. Im kinda awesome.
BACON HALL OF FAME!
Steve McMichael: First inductee is Steve McMichael who brought CREDIBILITY to the sport as he made a smooth transition from professional football to unprofessional wrestling, trading in his pads and helmet and secret steroids for some shiny black underwear and some knee pads! Someone told me he played with the Bears but I don't see how that's possible. First, I doubt Bears have the dexterity to play football, and besides he'd surely be mauled by those bears thats fer sure. But if he did, I highly doubt it was grizzlies cause he'd be dead now and we'd have never seen what he could do in a ring and that woulda been unfortunate.
Anyways, he used to hurt people for real all the time and I don’t think I need to tell you that means he was a GREAT wrestler. They called him Mongo which I think is short for mongoloid. This surprised me as I really had no idea that Steve was disabled (although the round fat-face and swollen eyes did kinda give it away). Anyways, Mongo was a credit to his mongoloid heritage and would make fellow mongoloid and Warrior Genghis Khan very proud! (who’d have thought that a country full of people with Down's Syndrome could conquer half the known world!). So, here’s to you, Steve Mongoloid McMichael! Mongoloids may only have a shelf life of about 30 years, and mostly only stack cans at the super market and smile too much but you’ll always live on in the Bacon Hall of Fame!
Kronik: A double entry here as both members get in. Kronik was a big time awesome tag team featuring two really great wrestlers in Bryan Clarke and Brian Adams. Clarke once wrestled under his real name of Adam Bomb in the WWF where they said he was radiated on three mile Island. This gave him bigtime size and strength and left him with yellow eyes and homoerotic tights. The rest of the people there just got radiation poisoning and cancer so Adam definitely lucked out. Brian Adams was known as Crush in the WWF because he liked to squish things for no reason ( me too!). He was also a HUGE pop music superstar under his real name in Canada , land that i love, belting out among other things the Robin Hood theme song in 1991 that still makes me cry when I hear it, and curse that Alan Rickman for every trying to force himself on that sweet Maid Marion. Anyways, they got together in WCW and called themselves Kronik although I have no idea why. Personally, I always thought they meant Kronik pain, because as my uncle barry once said they were really painful to watch in the ring which is a compliment I’m sure. My Friend Julius tried to tell me once that it had something to do with drugs but that can’t be. You can tell just by looking at him that Crush has never touched a drug in his life.
Giant Gonzalez: if you read my first ever column you'd see why he deserves to be inducted. He’s a real life LEGIT Giant and that’s good enough for me. (I mean his mom wouldn’t have given him the first name Giant if he wasn’t gonna grow up to be real tall).
Anyways, Giant Gonzalez was easily the best giant ever if only because he wore a fur suit. This alone makes him better than Andre who never had the luxury of wearing a pelt of any kind whatsoever. And it’s too bad too, 'cause I’m sure that’s what really killed him. Winters in the French Alps can be pretty unforgiving I’d assume, and a plaid sports coat prolly wouldn’t cut it. (And I know this well being from Saskatchewan and all, as I got frost bite bad one time and had to have my head amputated.).
Superfly Jimmy Snuka: Jimmy is already in the WWF Hall of Fame so this another big time accolade for him! Anyways some people on this site (who have sleazy French moustaches) will tell you that Superfly is a murderer, but it’s all LIES. There’s just no way Jimmy could ever kill his girlfriend. A thunderous headbutt? Maybe. A leapfrog and double chop to the esophagus? (named after the character on Sesame street, no doubt.): Most likely. But the death? I really doubt it. Heck, I doubt he’d even peel off a full superfly splash. But if he did kill her in warm blood as everyone claims, maybe he had his reasons. You know how couples are. Maybe she shrunk his tiger underwear or smashed some sort of exotic fruit over his head? (he seems to really hate this). Heck, maybe she was just a nag. “All you want to do is dive off cliffs and splash people! You don’t have time for me anymore!” You know that same old argument. But whatever. So what if he killed a defenseless woman? He was still real good at Cage matches and that’s all that matters.
Mabel: Today people know him as Viscera but to me he’ll always be Mabel, one half of maybe the most athletic team EVER, Men on a Mission! Heck, I even wanted to buy a giant pair of spandex purple mock overalls like his but I was never able to find them at Walmart. As a result ,I had to try and make them out of my mom’s bed spread but my sewing was a little questionable and I made a few tailoring mistakes and my dink would fall out a lot. Not good.
Anyways, Mabel was a master of the psychologocological warfare in the ring and would confuse his opponents by sweating a lot. To the untrained eye it would seem like he was just in incredibly poor shape and prolly near death but that was his GAME. Just when youd least expected it he'd get his 2nd wind and kinda flop on top of you for the win. Wow. Talk about good strategy. It was kinda like Muhammad Ali’s rope-a-dope only Mabel didn’t have the shaky Parkinsons.
Crocodile Mile: You run, you slide, you hit the bump, you take a dive! This is not a wrestler sure, but it’s BETTER. Its crocodile mile which to you American turds is prolly best known as “slip and slide.” I like ours better. At least it’s named after a dangerous animal (even if it should have been a moose) instead of something that sounds so faggoty. ( slip and slide… right into your asshole!). Anyways, this great wet tarp of my childhood brought me countless hours of fun and delight and I’m not ashamed to say I even had my first sexual encounter with one of the hose holes! Anyways, I thought it’d be fun last weekend to break out the old Crocodile Mile outta the shed and give’er for old time's sake. Unfortunately though, it’s still the dead of winter here in Canada and the water froze, creating a slick death trap and the icicles pretty much cut Madison from chin to balls. It was kinda hilarious though. Stupid fat Madison.
The Patriot: Normally I’d never induct anything to do with yous filthy Americans but Patriot has earned my respect (and dare i say, my love.). I also loved his finishers The Uncle Slam (I wish my uncle was named something cool like that) and The Patriot Missile, which impressed your government SO MUCH that I'm convinced your armed forces eventually named a rocket after it! ( i heard they break down after only two good months of use, though. Weird.).
Anyways, Patriot’s biggest claim to fame is when President George Bush made the Patriot act which I’d assume has Del Wilkes himself going door to door looking for terrorists and slamming them from a Full Nelson position before selling the whole act to the guy who played Sal Sincere. That’s a plan we can all get behind I think.
Yanni: And as for my celebrity wing: I present Yanni. International music superstar!!!! Yanni’s music speaks to my soul and I’ve pretty much patterned much of my life after this timeless music Icon. (I even have a pretty swank moustache and hair helmet brewing). The outpour of love for Yanni is not just limited to God’s country of Saskatchewan but all the way to Yanni’s native Grease (named in honour of the musical) where he once sold out the famed Papadopoulos - an arena dating hundreds of years back, named after Emanuel Lewis’ dad George on Webster.)
Anyways, the only strike on Yanni would be that his people also invented butt fucking, but I won’t hold that against him or in him. After all, they do make the absolute best Submarine sandwiches on the planet; so from where I stand, melodious new age music and three slices of delicious smoked turkey on a zesty garlic bun > putting your dink in someone's ass, and thus earns Yanni a spot in the Hall Of Fame!!
Canadian Bacon: Who else would it be!? And don’t think I haven’t earned it either! Not only am I the newest TOP GUY on the internet, but I’m also the most inside guy you’ll ever meet (I once knew a guy who split a cab to the airport with Bad News Allen, so I think I know what I'm talking about.) So, I’ll take this honour and honour it with honour. Afterall I was ROBBED of the Golden Tenay from the evil sean carless and his faggoty mop of hair and deserve something!
Anyways that’s it for now with the prestigious Hall of Fame. Maybe one day I’ll induct some new people but prolly not.
Consider this Bacon Brought!
THE TWF "MENTAL WELLNESS TEST!"
With Christmas just around the corner, what better way to spend your few remaining dollars (left over after the seemingly infinite line-up of fucking pay-per-views ) then on the following "quality WWE merchandise!" After all, if they don't move this stuff, and fast, stockholders just might get time to figure out what "plummeting domestic buyrates" means!... and well, I don't think they need to tell you what that means! (Seriously. They're not telling you. Everything is fine! Ahem.).