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The views of Canadian Bacon are his own and don't necessarily reflect those of
The Wrestling Fan. (Seriously). Coherency, grammar and sense may be absent completely.

Monday, April 10, 2006 12:00AM



by Canadian Bacon



Hey Baconfans, I’m Bacon and this is Bacon. I will be filling in for the deposed Remo who normally types this Réport because apparently his Internet upped and died like my dignity that one time a mall santa promised me hooded cobra commander for xmas but instead just patted me on the head with one hand & secretly rifled his fingers through my asshole with the other like it was a stocking made of asshole while mom took the picture and flirted w/ the Elf. I still got the doll, though, as part of the SEARS settlement so it was ok.  

Anyways serves you right, Remo for living in the filthy & eskimo riddled  Yukon of all places. My guess is the walrus that was running on a wheel that powered his hometown finally got loose from its harness and slipped back into its murky home waters of the arctic ocean, crippling the yukon economy and leaving the town whore/taxi driver/ remo's mom with no prospects because like a club full of black ppl, there was no more light to be seen.

Silly Remy. Next time get a more reliable animal to produce the necessary power needed to allow you to read how infinitely better the Baconman is than you. Think about it!!11

Ok, then. Onto my first ever stab at Impact! Only not legit stabbing - unless u count my penis going into a sock filled with soft cheese whilst i type this.

Tonight’s program comes from Orlando, Florida, of course named in honour of the bisexual Orlando Jordan!!!!111 (TRUTH!). Heck, the arena is even called the Impact zone which is ironic because that’s what Jordan also calls his ass. It all makes sense because he's a half-faggot, you see. But which half? Could be awkward for his partner depending on his answer.

Abyss vs. AJ Styles.

I heard all about this Abyss for months but have to admit I was like way off. Turns out Abyss isn't an aquatic extra-terrestrial species capable of dispersing its molecules at all, and in turn saving canadian-kind from a nuclear catastrophe, but instead just a fat dude in a mask who sweats a lot. Like he can resuscitate a half-drowned Ed Harris and show him the love needed to carry on and maybe change the world and prolly even half-rape Mary Mastrantonio for old timey sake b4 she got 2 cold & stinky from her watery death.

Anyways, Styles attacks Abyss before the bell, and hits a nice dropkick followed up by a huricanrana which is Spanish for "please stand still and let me flip you over with my legs while they’re wrapped around your head." Thank god they call it the Hurricanrana; a lot easier to type, and not just cause i'm doin so one-handed, although that's the reason!!!11

 Anyways after Abyss comes back with a press dealy into a flapjack, we get  some commercials before abyss grabs some syrup and a butter knife.

Bacon Commercial thought: Tag body spray doesn’t get me more chicks. It just creates a hybrid odor with my sweat & balls, and girls always ask what smells like 5 day old roast beef with perfume on it. I usually say it’s my cousin Madison, though.

We’re back~! And Abyss is choking AJ unmerciful with his monstrous mukluk in the corner. Soon after, Jim Mitchell calls for the black-hole slam but thankfully AJ gets out of it by hitting the enziguiri thus sparing us a super nova or simon dead enveloping the Earth from the inside out and destroying it completely with fitness.

Anyways, AJ gets another enziguiri then goes for his Styles clash (not plaid pants and a tuxedo jacket, although that’s what I wore to prom and I thought it was mint) but Abyss escapes, and hits a torture rack backbreaker called the shock treatment which is hardly the most reputable way to cure ppl of their demons and retardness, but what do i know? i was born a legit genius with no time fer such things, and so smart that i actually thought of Einstein's theory of relativity (my parents are my relatives, therefore i am) like 30 years before him, and 100 b4 I was even born.

Anyways, Abyss gets a two count, and goes up top but misses a splash, allowing Styles to come back with a pedro kick (or some such hispanicness that makes me uncomfortable),  then he goes up top himself, but the evil & devily Rev. James Mitchell (why would a church give this guy a reverendship when he looks like satan?) trips AJ, and Abyss presses him off the top and kills him. 

 Mitchell then grabs a bag full of tacks and prolly some fliers but before Abyss can finish hanging up the posters, Christian Cage runs in with a TIRE IRON and attacks Abyss, thus letting down whomever is out there all stranded & wonderin just how this  spare tire is gonna magically go onto their car all by itself.

Match result: No-contest. Even though they don’t say what kind of contest it was. I’m hoping it was a staring contest. I was always good at those, and even better when i play with ppl.

***Christian Cage is now on the microphone (and not in the gay way; although it kinda looks like a penis). He accepts Abyss’s challenge for the NWA title at Lockdown in six sides of unforgiving steel. Unforgiving? Man, why does that cage have to be such a hard ass? Why can't it just let bygones be bygones?! Christian then asks, “are you willing to die? Because I am!” I myself would just want to climb outta the cage and keep my title & life, but that's me! (who else would it be?). Someone really needs to sit Christian down and explain to him how these matches work!!111 Sheesh.

***We see Jeremy Borash with Team 3D, and fortunately for us, Borash is only in 2D, which is good because last time I had a man that looked like him suddenly appear  b4 me & startle me as I watched TV, it was a home invasion, and the guy asked me what I was doing in his house and why my pants were off and why his wife wasn't waking up. (AWWWWKWARD!).

Anyways, they ask Borash if he’s a red blooded American, and he thankfully answers yes, thus ending the speculation that he’s really a Vulcan!!! They then challenge Team Canada (Land that I love) to an Anthem match (Fact: National Anthems were created by namesake Arthur Anthem in the late 1930’s), a match first held in 1949 when Lou Thesz and Orville Brown went to curfew when both men lost their voices .

Brother Ray then gives their version of the pledge of allegiance,  and Devon the brother then finishes it by yelling “Oh my brother, TESTIFY!” - which is ironic because as a black man he's likely been asked to do that a lot in his life.

*** Sting will WRESTLE this Thursday on IMPACT. Wow. Where does he get the time to compete, record music AND save the Rain Forest too????!!! AMAZING!!111 (I still can't listen to Roxeanne anymore, though. I found out it's really about the whores, and this one time, I was with a prostitute and she was terrible in bed and just laid there and only later did I find out it was not a whorehouse at all but instead a hospice for ppl in comas. Not good).

***Up next we have Konnan’s group, LAX, which I’m assuming is short for Laxative, in honour of what the water does to your asshole in their home country of Mexico.

 From there, out comes Bullet Bob and the James Gang (BG and Kip, and not Bob’s younger brothers, 1800’s outlaws Frank & Jesse).

Bullet Bob Vs. Konnan: ARM-WRESTLING MATCH

What we have here is a good old fashioned arm wrestling match. But first, the referee ejects everyone else from ringside so not to ruin the credibility of a worked arm wrestling match between a grandfather and a crippled Mexican gangster. Good thinking, WE NEED A WINNER, DAMN IT. NO MORE BULLSHIT!

Anyways, Konan dominates at first, but Bob musta watched that Stallone movie and learned the super-secret thumb move known as the over-the-top which GUARANTEES victory/custody of your ugly son. (The thumb is EVERYTHING.). However, before he can slam Konnan, and have sex w/ brigitte nielsen b4 she got all dykey, here’s a man  to break up the contest and attack Bullet Bob with muscley mexican hijinks. Apparently his name is “Hot Stuff” Hernandez. His mom musta been super confident that he'd be bigtime handsome to name him that. Anyways, we get no decision here, but later find out that they will arm-wrestle AGAIN, but this time in a STEEL CAGE at Lockdown. There’s nowhere for your arm to run! Where’s your thumbs gonna go when that door shuts??!!! We’ll FINALLY get a LEGIT winner. AWESOME.


***Jeremy Borash is now backstage with D.O.A. (not Dead on Arrival, but considering his age, who knows?), Larry Zybysko. They say that at Lockdown homocidal Sabu will wrestle Samoa Joe and Chris Daniels will wrestle a LIGER! WOW. Talk about a fighting champion/wrangler of cats. It’d take a lot of money to get me to agree to wrestle a giant hybrid beast, even if it does make magic that much more exciting. Anyways, a referee called Slick Johnson, a lover of astroglide like myself obviously, says he wants to referee, but Larry says…something? I don’t remember! Something about being gay.

Diamonds in the Rough vs. Norman Smiley and Sharkboy.

Hey, aren’t diamonds in the rough really coal? Although it kinda explains why they get squashed so much. They’re hoping eventually they’ll be worth something!~ (I took Geocoloology in High School like 7 times; that’s how you make diamonds).

Anyways, before this match really gets under way, here’s Jeff Jarrett, America’s Most Wanted (no wonder we can't find the terrorists when the govt. keeps up this witch hunt for homoerotic cowboys in underwear!) and Scott Steiner with awesome Medieval times hat (they let you eat with your BARE HANDS there! AWESOME). Jarrett then sits with the commentators, and Steiner and AMW destroy Smiley and Sharkboy (Where was Lava Girl for the save?). Scott Steiner then puts Smiley in the Steiner Recliner (or camel clutch), but neglects to fuck him the ass like the Iron Sheik often boasts while making no sense and butcherin the canadian language. (What an amateur this Steiner is at teaching old country respect and destroying dignity through violent forced anal intercourse. (don't make me show u how it's done.)).

Anyways, Jarrett says TNA will continue to lose guys until they “sign Steiner”. Come on TNA! How hard is it to spell Steiner? I know you’re from Tennessee and thus are prolly a little illiterate or not able to read & write even, but come on. S-T-E-I-N-E-R. There you go; don’t say I never did anything not worth anything for ya!

Alex Shelley vs. Roderick Strong Vs. Chase Stevens: winner gets the final slot for Team USA in World X.

Wait. World X? Just what planet have these brave souls agreed to wrestle at the pay-per-view? I don’t know how keen I’d be to face a species of unknown aliens like that! (although, I don’t have a big bag full of backbreakers like Roderick Strong!).

Anyways, Stevens pulls out Strong to the arena floor to start, and barely avoids a Shelley diving attack over the ropes like a big metrosexual missile. There's frosted hair and mousse everywhere and a crater the size of a hole you don't put yer dink in 'cause you're not gay - you only look like u might be. 

STUFF THEN HAPPENS BUT I BECOME TEMPORARILY DISTRACTED WITH MY OWN REFLECTION WHICH IS LIKE STARING INTO A SEA OF MY OWN HANDSOMENESS. I then begin admiring my prominent forehead that my mom insists means that my brain is just big and not what my classmates claimed was the doctor losing the foresnips so he just used big oven tongs to pull me outta mom's blowhole, then I turned back to suddenly see Alex Shelley finish with Sliced bread #2 which is a Good choice because the first piece of bread in the package is a bum, and it's always the last left in the bag because it's useless. Good thinking, Alex!

Winner: Alex Shelly and his video camera. Just like me he likes to secretly videotape women; but unlike me he never gets caught sweating profusely without pants in their bedroom closet jacking off into their shoes. He’s a professional, I guess.

***Sting comes out next, in his face paint that i can imagine must be kinda startling & scary on church sunday, to talk about Jeff Jarrett and his team.

That said,  I recently read somewhere Sting saying that the jesus now lives inside his heart, and at first I found it kinda hard to believe.  Why he’d choose Steve Borden’s chest cavity to conduct his spiritual business, I have no idea. Oh well.

Anyways, Sting says he loves wrestling, the fans, Spike TV and their delightful line-up of entertaining programming featuring guys doing manly stuff to compensate for being fat & desperately lonely, but most of all he likes T&A. Hey, wait.  I thought one of the bigtime rules of the church was to put your pornographic desires on the back burner unless it was children? Oh well. 9/10 commandments is still admirable.

He then says that Jarrett and his cronies made him bitter (how would we know 4 sure unless we tasted him?) and forced him to come back. He then proposes a match beyond. (They want to wrestle in another DIMENSION?), then says it’ll be a cage filled with WEAPONS… and not a steel cage surrounded by blood thirsty dogs as I hoped, encompassed within a second cage. That would be SO cool. I’m surprised no one has ever tried that.

Anyways, Sting then says that Jarrett made a mistake telling him his team members, and this Thursday he’s calling him out, despite him already being in the building right there, right now. WAIT UNTIL NEXT WEEk, MISTER b4 I TEACH U A LESSON YOU WOn"T FORGET PROLLY UNTIL THE NEXT WEEK AFTER THAT! He then promises that anyone Jarrett sends after him, he’ll tear their legs off and rip out their hearts. Ok, 8/10 commandments.  (maybe his religion is one in the same w/ that one priest guy from Temple of Doom? Quick, someone see if there's brainwashed shirtless children with no wills in Sting's Locker room! Then send them to Rob Feinstein's house!).


At this point, Jarrett comes out, not just because he wants more TV time, and he and his team surround Sting, but here’s Ron Killings, (I think - the lights were kinda low), AJ Styles, Chris Daniels and others not as important, bald or black, to defend Sting. And that’s it~!

Bacon's Final Thoughts: I used to think there was such thing as Fairies when i was a kid, and that they'd come into my room, whisper to me, and sometimes even touch my special purpose. turns out though that was just my uncle barry and my mom's lawyer made me swear to never speak of it again after we started gettin money sent 2 the house.

Ok, faggots, that’s it for this special (Better then Remy) Réport of TNA Impact. Oh, and btw, in case you haven’t heard, I won the Canadian lottery about 3 weeks ago and am now filthy rich (in canadian monies.). So next time you see me, I’ll prolly own this place, be wearing a money suit and tormenting minorities w/ basketballs and subterfuge dribblings. But until then, I’ll cya soon but prolly not.

bacon.jpgSend “Mr. Money in the Piggy Bank” Canadian Bacon mail here, or die from cancer of the shit-can!


For even more Bacon, check out his MySpace page here and feel free to join Trish Stratus, RVD, Gene Snitsky and other wrestling superstars as my big time friends.

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November 2006


by Sean Carless

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.).