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Back-Leg Frontkick:  2005 Quasi-Year End Blowout Edition Or Something Like That!:11/25/05: Featuring: Completely Random News: Not Really Year In Review! Plus, *ALL NEW* Material Including WWE Whore Zone, Vince Opens A Wendy's, And Chappelle's Show: WWE Style! All This Plus Much More!

Hey all. And welcome back to the column written by the guy voted "Most handsomest wrestling columnist on the Internet" three years running...by my Mom, The Back-Leg Frontkick! Your source for completely infrequent and pointless wrestling blather! That's right.

First and foremost, before I get to the “hilarity” as it were, let me be the first millionth to say Rest In Peace to the late great Eddie Guerrero. I pretty much said my piece at our world famous forums, and don’t wish to be a broken record, (unless it’s with my parodies…I couldn’t possibly repost them anymore beyond their point of relevance; but I’ll be damned if I don’t try) so if you just HAVE to hear my take, head over there. But bring women. It’s a fucking sausage factory in that place.


WWE Whore Zone?

The other night, the venerable James Walker and I were idly discussing among other things, the WWE Divas and how sexually promiscuous WWE has written their characters over the years. Obviously, the first name to spring to mind was Lita, who of course is the WWE’s sleazy vixen of the month, and their current Queen whore. However, unlike the real Amy Dumas (who let’s just say has reputedly had enough partners that if the science were possible, her Gynecologist could pretty much clone the ideal wrestler from ALL the leftover DNA. Creating in all likelihood, a buck-toothed lanky guy who in turn had an inherent urge to write emotionally angst-ridden messages online, wore a mask, and possessed an uncanny Lucha offense. He may or may not also like to piss on people.), the CHARACTER of Lita, although definitely promiscuous, actually pails in comparison to several of WWE’s most beloved Divas. I was surprised to be honest.

With that said, the criteria I came up with is as follows. The character has to have a somewhat long-term “established relationship” with a wrestler. Accompanying a wrestler to the ring for one week doesn’t count. And if WWE has ever alluded to a “sexual relationship” with any wrestler or personality, it counts. Basically any allusion to sex of any nature counts.

Now, with all these intangibles, we came up with 3 frontrunners.

Trish Stratus: Beloved WWE Women’s Champion. Respected worker. Whore? Yup. Or so WWE storylines have alluded to. And you know what’s funny? The bulk of the Trish character’s looseness came while she was a BABYFACE! (a trait that strangely is prevalent in the other two frontrunners as well.)

First and foremost, one could argue that Test, Albert and Val Venis all got some while under the management of Trish. The fact that I don’t know anyone who would want to follow Albert’s monkey-loving notwithstanding. From there, Trish began an “official* storyline relationship with Vince, while the Chairman’s wife was comatose. You know the same old story. Vince’s idea of foreplay was to get Trish down on all fours and have her bark like a dog; and soon the relationship went south. Go figure. At some point soon after, Jeff hardy and Trish did a storyline where the two were alluded to being an item. However, since Trish didn’t have a penis, or copious amounts of cocaine, the relationship fizzled as well. Not that Jeff could remember it though. Around this point, Trish worked her way up to an alluded “relationship” with The Rock where the two made out on RAW. Probably much to disdain of Mrs. Maivia who was seen throwing a pineapple at her TV screen. From there, the Stratus character would stay clean and wholesome, until falling for the charms of one Chris Jericho, before breaking her sizeable heart when she learned that he bet Christian a Canadian Loonie that he could bed her. If only it had been an American dollar she thought. Which of course has a net worth of 300,000 Canadian dollars….

Of course, she eventually found solace in the arms of his friend Christian, who began slipping her the old “peeparoni”, and thus broke Y2J’s heart. “How could you cheat on me with my best friend after I deemed your value at about one dollar?” Jericho soon asked. This one baffled us all.

And finally, Trish may or may not have bedded Tyson Tomko at last year’s Taboo Tuesday. You see, in their final spat, Christian & Trish argued over whom would get Tyson in their corner that night. Trish ultimately won out, after whispering what can only be a promise of carnal lust if things went her way. It didn’t take Tomko too long to leave with Trish, and it’s a good thing too. After spending the last three years in Oswald Penitentiary and servicing Adebisi, a woman, any woman, looked good. Okay, he was never on OZ. Whatever.

Side note: James and I debated if in fact Viscera should be counted. I ultimately disqualified him from consideration because Trish did her damndest to avoid the advances of the big man. Probably for the best, though. Just finding Big Vis’s genitals would likely be akin to fishing the remote out of the sofa cushions. Good choice.

Possible but eliminated considerations: Bubba Ray Dudley. HHH (in 2001) Kurt Angle (2001)

Stacy Keibler: Oh no! Not Stacy! She’s a nice wholesome girl! Wrong. Well, at least in the kayfabe world.

Now in order to truly get a broad scope of Stacy’s sexual improprieties, we must first journey back to WCW.

Her first non-Nitro Girl exposure was as the manager of Lenny & Lodi. Ok, umm, scratch them. Anyway, in 2000, we learned that Stacy was “pregnant” while she was rolling around in mud with Major Gunns. So many women find out this way. This news made David Flair….her “real life” boyfriend, as well as on TV, very happy… until he learned that BUFF BAGWELL may have been the father. However, Buff would have to be out of his Mother’s sight long enough to procreate, so this is debatable. However, it didn’t stop David from chasing Buff around that summer trying to jab him with syringe. You know, something I’m sure is completely foreign to Buff Daddy…..

From there, David was to marry Stacy, but the wedding was interrupted by Vince Russo who was alluded to, but never officially outed as the Father. The angle was soon dropped and we were never told if the semen responsible for spawning the child was derived from Vinnie Ru’s “spaldings”. The scuttlebutt at the time also suggested that perhaps The Nature Boy himself was responsible for the Child. The rumor further stated that it would turn out that Ric was really Stacy’s father from a night of passion with her mother twenty year’s prior. This of course would mean that he was fucking his own daughter! And David was in turn having relations with his sister! However, WCW was based out of the south, so who knows?….

From there, Stacy revealed her pregnancy was all fake and began a relationship with Shawn Stasiak and his “Meat” until WCW folded. Once in the WWE, Stacy eventually found herself with The Dudleys. It was never ever established if the Dudley ’s “Got Wood”…then promptly buried it in her picture perfect ass, but I think it’s within the realm of possibility. Stacy was also seen grinding her money maker into the groin of the lead singer of Drowning Pool at Wrestlemania X8. He killed himself a few months later. (Not a bad way to go out though, eh?)

After her stint with the Dudleys , Stacy found herself as Vince McMahon’s latest storyline squeeze, ever so briefly. No doubt just long enough for Vince McMahon to bring his “grapefruits” down to… Apricots? I don’t know. From there, Stacy hooked up with Test (her actual real-life beau at the time) and helped him find his “Testicles” …and not just because he was on Steroids and that kinda happens. Eventually, Test started mistreating Stacy, which angered Scott Steiner, who was known for his chivalry…you know, when he wasn’t trying to run over people backstage with his Jeep. Soon, Stacy found herself in the middle of a tug of war between two guys whom combined, possessed the testicles of a normal man. Eventually, Stacy moved on, and after a year or so, eventually entered into a strange storyline relationship with Randy Orton. It was love at first RKO, as Orton would eventually sever the relationship by dropping Stacy on her neck. I guess “I don’t want to see you again” was too cliché. Oh well.

Side Note: Stacy spent a considerable amount of time with Rosey & The Hurricane this past year; but as a rule, Super Heroes don’t tend to “get it on”. I mean look how long it took Superman to hook up with Lois Lane . Although the fact that one Superman cum shot would cause her to explode may have played a part. All things considered. I’m officially filing their relationship under platonic. So as far as official canon goes, Hurricane kept his Shining Wizard holstered.

Torrie Wilson: The hilarious thing about Torrie, is that 95% of her sexual exploits took place while she was a babyface. Quite the role model for young girls her character was. “Girls, when you grow up, you can put out with every single guy you come across too!” On second thought, who am I kidding? That’s GREAT advice.

Anyway, the poor Torrie character has seen SO much action, you could probably drop a regulation sized NBA basketball into her cooter and have it clear all sides.

With that said, much like Stacy before her, Torrie’s story starts in WCW where she was introduced in 1999 as nWo’s potential concubine, which pretty much opens up a whole grotesque myriad of coital possibilities, not just limited to Horace and Vincent. However, Nash seemed to take a shining to her, and the former Diesel likely painted her nether region “Black and White” in honor of the nWo. ( but mostly white though ;)).


From there, Torrie was awarded to David Flair as a barter to get him to betray his Father at Superbrawl. David of course did. Can’t say I blame him. In fact, I’d admittedly stab my own Father in the heart on the spot for one night of shallow lust with Ms. Wilson (ok, probably 15 minutes but don’t tell anyone). Later that year, Torrie hooked up with Billy Kidman (her longtime boyfriend and eventual husband) and that eventually segued into a stint with the Filthy Animals, and God knows what went on there. If Juventud was bringing ecstasy to the party, who knows what might have went down? (and no doubt if it did, Kidman was right there to catch it all on the Kid-cam…).

Eventually, Torrie would betray Kidman for Shane Douglas. From there, Shane would practice his other favorite “Belly to Belly” with Torrie, pretty much until WCW folded. Torrie would then wind up in WWF in July of 2001, and almost immediately help Vince lose about 2 pounds of water weight, in different areas of the backstage area, before turning on Vince and leaving him humiliated and pantsless in front of his wife! Score one for WCW! Wait, Vince got to feel her up over a two hour period. Fuck WCW. From there, Torrie would hook up with Tajiri of all people. However, after time, Tajiri and his Asian penis were not enough to satisfy Torrie and she moved onto…Maven?!  If ever so briefly. The two were often filmed at locales like WWF New York having dinner together. This was WWE’s strange way of trying to get Maven over. Hey, what better way to get guy’s to like you then to romance a woman they’d never have a chance with? SCORE! This relationship didn’t last long however, but if anything good came of their time together, Maven would at least eventually take a hint from Torrie’s Brazilian (Hey I bought the Playboy) and finally mow his fucking eyebrows.

Later that year, Torrie entered into a relationship with Dawn Marie who was seeing her FATHER. And as only you can when a young woman is seducing your father… you have NO CHOICE but to give into a night of depraved lesbianism with her, if only to free Daddy from the shackles of this evil temptress! We’ve all been there, sister. Soon, Dawn Marie murdered her Father by fucking him to death, and this left her to settle their differences the only way you can… in a court of law! Wrestling ring. This however ended the free muff, and let Torrie move onto bigger and better things. Things like Sable….who herself possessed a disturbing laundry list of Sexual conquests including a Little Richard impersonator, a gigantic bull dyke, a one legged teenager…and Vince McMahon.


Sable lusted after Torrie, and after denying her many times, Torrie finally said “why not?” and made out with Sable after a Bikini contest.

From there, like star crossed lovers, Billy Gunn and Torrie found each other. Billy was of course basically coming off a relationship with Chuck Palumbo where he more than lived up to his moniker, but ultimately turned the other cheek so to speak, and returned home to the rolling valley’s of Pussyville. Mr. Ass and Torrie were together for about 2 months in storylines, where Billy was still an “Ass Man” but this time he didn’t have to worry about a hairy pair of Italian balls below it….or so he thought. You see, Jamie Noble took an immediate liking to Torrie, much to the dismay of his girlfriend Nidia, who’d go blind several months later…and not from looking in a mirror either (I kid). Noble eventually found himself on the winner’s end of a match with Billy Gunn, which now meant she had to fuck Noble (which no doubt would definitely stand up in court. “But your honor! I pinned her boyfriend. IT’S MY RIGHT.”). Torrie being a woman of her word, agrees, but somehow the whole thing turns into a four-way romp with Billy Gunn & Nidia included. Oh no! Billy is off the wagon! (Fagon?)

Anyway, not much comes of this. Torrie pretty much stops her fornicating ways for almost a year, instead channeling her energies into worthwhile things like winning rigged bikini contests. However, as it always seems, Torrie somehow found her way back onto the path to Tuna town, hooking up with fellow Playmate Candice Michele. And this time she’s brought a dog! ……. Yeesh.

Ok, the contest is over. Torrie wins hands down (and cocks up.) If the Dick fits you must acquit. But really, there is no winners. Ok there’s the guys who laid the pipe. But other than that, Nada.

Side note: I’m sure, there’s probably some arguable omissions here, but really, if you added them…would you really be helping their cause?...

Completely Random News

The Not Really Year In Review!

In about a month, every asshole and his brother will be penning a “Year in Review” column where they’ll give their biased takes on the Year that was in Professional Wrestling. They’ll be EVERYWHERE, and they’ll all sound exactly the same. Now, that’s where I come in. You see, I could write an expansive, detailed soliloquy on the events of the past calendar year in the ring, but… I don’t want to? That’s right. You know what happened.  Batista won the Title; White kids across the nation embraced John Cena as their hero, decking themselves out in gaudy jewelry in honor of the Doctor of Thuganomics, before being promptly stuffed into their lockers by the bigger cooler kids; Jericho, Christian & The Dudleys left the fold stumbling for new identities; and Hulk Hogan & HBK battled to see who indeed possessed wrestling’s hugest and most impressive omnipresent receding noggin at Summer Slam. It was the Best of Times. It was the Blurst of times. But you were there, so I’m not really telling you anything you don’t already know.

So, with that said, I instead, as I always do, chose to go back and revisit those stories that either fell through the cracks, or were so absurd they had to be (re)told. This is the BLFK Year in Review. So, put on your lobster bibs, it’s about to get messy.

(Van) Damned If You Do, And (Van) Damned If You Don’t

In the last to years, WWE has rewarded the troops in Iraq with a WWE appearance. Unfortunately, how they’ve rewarded them was putting Undertaker in the ring with Heidenreich. Man. Why not just lob some mustard gas into the crowd instead? In any event, Vince has said that the trip was “optional”, but hey, let’s face it. Not going to Iraq for Christmas was about as optional as Mike Tyson telling a date they have the option to not sleep with him. However, enter Rob Van Dam, who actually took Vince up on this “option” and instead spent Xmas with his family, while poor schmoes  like Luther Reigns hoped to make it out of Baghdad that night with less bullet holes in his body than he came in with.

The rumors soon began flying that RVD had huge heat with the office as a result, but fortunately(?) he was injured and went on the shelf before any burying could take place. Lucky him.

In any event, there’s always this year for RVD to make it up to the Armed Forces. And the best part? He doesn’t even need to wear any equipment if by chance chemical war breaks out. I mean, Rob’s always immerging from gaseous smoke filled areas, so it’d be just another day at the office for him.

Cheating Death, Stealing Jewelry

Former WWE star Jim Neidhart and his wife Ellie (Stu Hart's daughter) were accused of stealing $10,000 in jewelry from the house of John McCann, a Calgary businessman, between March and September of 2004. Neidhart ended up selling the jewelry to a pawn shop, all while no doubt stroking his beard in a menacing fashion. McCann ended up paying $9,937 to get the jewelry back. Neidhart's wife claimed that the charges are "faultless" because the jewelry belonged to McCann's wife, not McCann himself. She also claimed Vince screwed Bret.

This story broke me up for no other reason than my visual of The Anvil decked out in Cat burglar gear, slingshot shoulder-tackling himself through the neighbor’s bay window, cleaning out the goods, then fleeing the scene after calling out to Ellie, “Come on, baby!”…of course followed by insane cackling and more beard stroking, as the fuzz approached. There is a chance I thought too hard about this, however.

Pfohl Speed Ahead!

Lex “Guy who killed Elizabeth ” Luger has fallen on hard times this past couple of years. First his girlfriend choked to death on his watch, while he likely marveled at how “spot on” her Great Muta impression was, instead of calling 911. From there, the authorities found enough illegal muscle enhancing drugs in his town house to fund the entire German Olympic team for years to come. And finally, earlier this year, Lex was arrested and charged with DUI after he was awakened from being passed out at the wheel by a cop, before subsequently taking off, forcing the Officer to chase him down. My question? Just how fast can a forty foot Red, White & Blue bus possibly go?

No Shit?

Over the past year, Randy Orton has become the subject of wrestling’s most hilarious urban legend. Did or did Randy not shit in people’s Gym Bags? Well, reputed “victim” and former WWE Cup of coffee Diva, Rochelle Loewen finally put all the rumors to rest. NO. He DID NOT crap in her bag, although she claimed he was indeed capable of the feat. However, there WAS a Gym Bag violation that took place, but it was “suntan lotion” that was smeared all over her unmentionables according to Loewen. Although, considering how much young Randall apparently had the burn for her, I wouldn’t be too sure. And hey, if you get pregnant after putting on those panties, don’t say I didn’t warn you!

Dying To Be On PPV.

In a forgotten tidbit from earlier this year, Erik Watts, son of Bill Watts, and maybe the most over-pushed blob of nepotism EVER without the surname “McMahon”, tried to overdose on drugs one week before a PPV match with Raven. He survived, and sympathy prevailed the night of the show as Erik was given the win over Raven; despite the fact poor Scotty was stoned for 2/3rds of his life and got jack shit. Tough World.

In any event, like any good Father, The Cowboy chose to air Erik’s dirty laundry in public, you know, rather than quietly trying to help his son. However, what he wrote (on the Mid-South message board) still rings out hilarious to me.

“Erik feels (justifies) he 'needs the pain pills' in order to wrestle, because of the physical toll on his body.”

The physical toll on his body? Heh. No wonder Cowboy banned all those off the top rope spots in WCW! He was REALLY saving Erik from performing all those death defying 450 splashes he was known for! Makes perfect sense now! All kidding aside, just how does one “pay a toll on their body” when their only offense consists of waist level dropkicks? Never mind.


After two years of toiling in Redneckville, TNA finally moved operations to Orlando and established themselves as the TRUE alternative to WWE. An Alternative built around a nepotistic heel champion who refuses to step out of the Main Event despite the fact that no one wants to see him on top; lumbering hosses brought in to work the Main Events, despite the fact the lighter weight guys put on better shows; and saturating the PPV market with too many shows. Wait. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were the WWE!

All kidding aside, TNA has really stepped up in the last 6 months, and in a lot of people’s opinions their PPV quality has even surpassed that of WWE’s (even with stacked match-ups like Eugene & Jimmy Snuka against Rob Conway & Tyson Tomko. Even!). Congratulations TNA. Now maybe you can start getting those assholes who chant Hoyt for two hours straight to actually pay for their tickets….

X-Pacalypse Now

We all know Sean Waltman has had his issues with drug dependency. And if I had sex with Chyna, especially on camera, I think I too would turn to any and all barbiturates I could get my grubby mitts on. Luckily though, in Waltman’s case, he’s seemed to have cleaned himself up. Watching that One Night In Chyna video has a strange way of sobering up a brother fast.

In any event, earlier this year, the X-Pac/Joanie Laurer  “love” story took a hilarious turn, when X-Pac went on record saying that Joanie basically assaulted him. Here’s it is in his own words:

"Joanie (Laurer) was arrested on 1/1 for domestic battery. She assaulted me, struck me in the head and face countless times after getting back from the Playboy Mansion. There were several witnesses to her behavior, including Jeff Meecham from The Extreme Mayhem Show, and unfortunately, my two children witnessed and heard all of this. She was released today, once again, having to suffer no consequences for her behavior. She showed no remorse."

Who the fuck would ever admit that their girlfriend basically kicked the shit out of them? And am I to believe this all went down without him breaking out one wheel kick or X-Factor! That shit works in real life! I swear! Vince wouldn’t lie to us! Oh well, I guess he’s a gentleman. But to me, chivalry tends to go out the window when your girlfriend has a bigger penis than you. Just saying.

Quick, Hide The Pot! (Not RVD)

Rhyno was seemingly on top of the World. He was main-eventing Heat every week; he hadn’t seen a PPV pay day in months; and he was completely buried and mired in the midcard. Things couldn’t have been better. But it all went downhill fast for the Man-Beast, when his wife informed him Wrestlemania weekend that she was about to leave the country, and take his kid with her. So, Rhyno did what any man would do in the same situation. He hurled his huge body through the first potted plant he saw in the Hotel. We’ve all been there, big man. Luckily, Tommy Dreamer was on the scene to break things up. One could point out the irony that it was just like old times again in ECW, with obliterated furniture, a screaming woman, an insane Rhyno pacing around looking to kill someone, and Tommy with the heroic babyface “save”. And that “one” would be me. EC-dub! EC-dub! EC-dub!

Queering Doesn’t Make The World Work!

You’d never know to look at him that Warrior was possibly insane. You know, when you discount the fact that he talked to his hands, is completely unintelligible, always speaks in the 3rd person, and has the name “Warrior” on his Drivers license. Wait. I take it back.

Anyway, for 3 years now, Warrior has been this website’s *unofficial* muse, giving us COUNTLESS pages of material for MONTHS. And what transpired in early April of this year was no different. You see, this was the night Warrior spoke at a conservative lecture at the University of Connecticut, and eventually, he opened up the floor for questions. From there, Warrior, when asked about homosexuality uttered the now infamous phrase:  “Queering Doesn’t Make The World Work”. However, I think even Warrior will admit that it’s a pretty damn effective way to maintain your Main Event push….

In any event, yours truly was the first one to jump on this story, and soon I felt the full wrath of Warrior. Ok, it was actually his minion “Chris Lewis”, Director of Warriors and all things of a Warrior nature, who tried as he might to crush me beneath the mighty weight of Destrucity; attacking me in word with the same ferocity of one of Warrior’s absolutely terribly worked punches. And all because I questioned how a dude who cupped guys junk for a living and wore Speedos 95% of the time would cast the first stone against homosexuality.

However, rather than relay this whole sorted mess again, I’ll just re-direct you to the follow up article in question. WARRIAH!

One Snake That Didn’t Go Hungry

When we last heard from Jake Roberts, he was wanted in England for allegedly starving Damian to death (not the Anti-Christ). And although I was glad that 14 years later, Earthquake was finally off the hook for a murder he did not commit, I wondered if we’d ever see Jake again. I got my answer a few weeks before Wrestlemania, when Jake was a guest of Chris Jericho on the highlight reel. And when he emerged from beyond the curtain I was blown away. “Ladies and gentlemen Jake The Snake Roberts cannot be with us this evening, but here’s the man who consumed him, Folk songmeister David Crosby!” Wow. This guy is a workhorse. He’s got time to impregnate lesbians and drop the DDT. I take my hat off to him. Let’s see Stills and Nash do that! Ok, Ok, it wasn’t Crosby, but damn did he look like him. Maybe it was the walrus mustache. Who knows? But still, it was cool to see Jake, one of my favorites again, even if he did look like WWE probably dropped him back into the Arctic after the show; where he could at least finish out his days eating seals. Goo goo g’joob.

Life On (And Under) The Edge!

By now you’ve all heard the Edge/Lita/Matt Hardy story ad nauseam (mostly by me), However, outside of Eddie Guerrero’s tragic death, it was easily the biggest wrestling story of the year. A Love story. A story of boy meets girl, boy pretends she hasn’t slept with hundreds of Luchadors, boy gets injured, so girl has an affair with his best friend, boy goes insane and runs over her likeness with his corvette while being armed with more heavily artillery than the fucking Punisher. You know, same old story.

The story soon spilled over into WWE storylines. Crowds were merciless. The first victim was Kane, who was “married to Lita” and when Lita betrayed and left him (And if a marriage can’t be built on the principles of forced sex, terror and sadism, than clearly there’s no hope for us all) no one had any sympathy for the Big Red Machine, because everyone saw through the storyline, and knew Matt was the real victim. However, eventually emo tears would dry on the fat swollen faces of teenage girls across the country, because their hero, Matt Hardy was finally coming home! Matt Hardy was heard crying for all to hear “I will not die!” to which Vince probably answered “Good, it’ll be kind of awkward for everyone on the roster to pin you if you do”.  Anyway, Matt and Edge warred. Blood was spilled. We got to see 7/8ths of Lita’s titties on a weekly basis. And then it was over. Edge and Matt would war for the “Money in the Bank” (now half of that thanks to the now Mrs. Edge likely:)) and afterwards, Matt was exiled to SmackDown where he’s actually prospering. See there are happy endings! Oh wait. The Adulterer won. Scratch that….

In any event, Matt has moved on with his life as he’s now dating Diva Search Winner Ashley. Good. At least Matt can start anew with a woman who is the complete opposite of Lita. You know, a goth-punk who blows a ton of spots in the ring. Hey wait!

But still, the moral of this story? Anyone, whose conquests include a person named “Fishman”, is probably not someone you should ever consider having a relationship with.

Dropping Legs And Laying Eggs.

For years, the only brainless creature running around in circles with zero direction on Hulk Hogan’s property was Brutus Beefcake. This all changed earlier this year. Before his show “Hogan Knows Best” went to air (Hey, I’ve seen his ideas in WCW, Hogan knows shit), the stark ravin’ Hulkster made the news when the family’s pet rooster become a bone of contention amongst neighbors due to the obvious crowing. The city council decided the bird’s fate and it didn’t look good. And the worst part?  Hulk could no longer hilariously ask strangers if they want to see his “cock”, and not get arrested for it.

Anyway, at the end of the day, the only “animals” allowed to run wild (along with Hulkamania) were the 24 inch pythons, dude.


Beware The Beast Man.

Once upon a time, Kurt Angle used to preach the benefits of abstinence. Then he discovered the joys of bestiality. Or something like that. You see, earlier this year, we discovered Angle had contracted a little jungle fever, and looked forward to the time when he could mount Booker T’s wife Sharmell in the old Referee’s position. However, as weeks past, Angle began insisting that he’d like to perform on Sharmell, and I quote, “some of that dirty bestiality sex”. Man. Either Angle never actually bothered looking up the term, or his opinion of Mrs. umm, T? was a little low. And if it’s the latter, thankfully Angle chose to pursue Freestyle wrestling for a living and not say, Sheepherding. (A job I always thought would become obsolete once the fence was invented…)

In any event. Angle moved to RAW, and left bestiality behind. And it’s a good thing he and Batista never really crossed paths, ‘cause Lord knows what may have happened…

Mysterio Solved!

He lies! He cheats! He umm, provides the necessary sperm to father another man’s son!? This is the little tidbit of storyline info we received during the Rey Mysterio/Eddie Guerrero feud from this past spring/summer. You see, apparently Rey-Rey was shooting “blanks” and was unable to provide the seed possible to create a Rey Mysterio, junior, junior. And sure, one could argue that whatever caused buddy’s eyes to turn fucking white probably also wreaked havoc on his balls. But whatever. Enter Eddie. He had enough "Latino Heat" to get the job done... and presto! Enter Dominic, who was in turn “adopted” by The Mysterios.

All was fine in the Mysterio house, until Eddie revealed the horrible secret. Dominic would never look at his father the same way again. Although, that’s probably more because Dominic doesn’t know what his dad really looks like because he’s always wearing a fucking mask all the time. But I digress.

Somewhere along the line, Eddie decided he wanted to take back his “son” and him and Rey settled the custody the way it’s always been done: in a winner takes all Ladder Match! Ultimately, Rey won, and they were a happy family again. And finally Dominic could get back to the innocence of childhood. Innocence that likely included going to the playground and swinging around the equipment, kicking other children in the face with his feet. Dad would be SO proud.

The Great Midcard Purge

Unfortunately, in order to pay for sound future financial investments like “Eye Scream Man”, The RAW Divas Search, The Juniors! and Liposuction for Steph, the axe had to fall somewhere in the WWE. And where it fell was the WWE midcard. Many superstars were let go over the next few months including but not limited to Kidman, Charlie Haas, Jackie Gayda, Rhyno (who still got to be called “Rhino” because WWE are imbeciles when it comes to grammar apparently) and most notably the Dudleys. The latter of which were hit hardest, having been stripped of their identity, and sent packing. Eventually they found their way to TNA, and became Team 3D. And not Team “Team WWF” (World Wildlife Fund) as I had hoped; complete with matching panda suits, if only to get back at the scummy WWE for stealing the characters THEY invented.

Christian eventually followed suit, but was lucky to come out of the deal almost unscathed, trade-marking the name “Christian Cage” when he went to TNA. Sure beats my choices of Episcopalian or Benedictine, that’s for sure.  

Here Comes The Pain! Wait. Nope, There It Goes.

After his dreams of joining the NFL fizzled, Brock had a choice to make. He could make his living piling into a Yugo with 10 other assholes named “Milos” and play for NFL Europe, or he could go back to McMahonland and play his cards. You see, he was unable to wrestle anywhere else, because he signed a 10 year no-compete clause, and like Mark Henry whose paid the penance of the deal over 9 years by getting fellated by a transvestite and impregnating an elderly woman, so to would Lesnar be a slave to the WWE if indeed he went back to wrestling.

With that said, last Summer, WWE and Lesnar were apparently incredibly close on a deal, but the two couldn’t come to terms on several issues including salary and the amount of days Brock would work. WWE wouldn’t budge, and sadly, Brock couldn’t even barter Sable’s services to ensure things went his way, as she had disintegrated in the car ride over. And yes, I just wanted to make that joke.

Ultimately, with WWE no longer an option, Brock headed off to Japan, a place that even though he might be on Steroids, he could still have the biggest genitals in the locker room.

UPN Cancels Hassan

As we all know, Muhammad Hassan was killed off in WWE storylines. Murdered by The Undertaker. And all because UPN figured that Hassan’s “sympathizers” were really “terrorists”. But aren’t “terrorists” supposed to inspire “terror”? You know rather than hilarity? I mean, I think it was fairly obvious it was a bunch of swollen white guys under the hoods and desert camouflage (Detroit is KNOWN for its deserts after all. Gotta blend in!)

In any event, the handwriting was on the wall for Muhammad and it wasn’t good. And sure, Undertaker had been burned, stabbed, blown up, and crushed MANY times before, but that was all done by God fearing Americans, damn it! (well, except Kamala, but we never had issues with Uganda as far as I know). Oh well. UPN can’t be held responsible. They do have an image of integrity to uphold. The Network just can’t be sullied with that kind of content, when there’s wholesome quality shows like The Mullets to produce!

All Brets Are Off.

After years of swearing death upon each other, Vince McMahon and Bret Hart have finally buried the hatchet, and not in each other’s skulls. The two actually came together to produce the DVD that will chronicle Bret’s wrestling career, and no doubt, Bret likely agreed to the terms if only to preserve his legacy.

Originally, prior to Bret agreeing to be part of the works, the disc was to feature the Montreal finish looping repeatedly for two hours straight while the Benny Hill theme played continuously in the background. While from there, the special Easter egg features Shawn, Earl and Vince breaking into Bret’s Calgary home in the dead of night; HBK placing a slumbering Hitman in the Sharpshooter, while Earl rang a makeshift bell while they all laughed and pointed, before once again scurrying off into the night. Clearly Bret made the right decision.

Introducing The Bob Holly Wrestling Academy!

In my travels across this fair Internet in late Summer, I accidentally came across a link to The Bob Holly Wrestling Academy! A place where YOU,  John Q. Fatbody, can finally learn the basics, all from the man himself...  basics like bumping, bleeding from the mouth, spitting out your teeth, and having your trust completely violated. Oh, and let's not us forget you will inherit the ability to LEAP INTO THE AIR AS IF GOD WAS YOUR WINGS AND PLANT YOUR FEET IN ANOTHER MAN'S FACE. And if you're really lucky, people will christen you the best in the world at it. Even if you possess no other discernable talents. And yes, you'll have to PAY for these HONORS.

And I've just been informed that since Bob Holly only has enough flailing limbs to properly annihilate no more than two trainees at one time, he'll have guest instructors like BILLY GUNN also showing you tricks of the trade. You know,  "time honored traditions" like how to get by on look alone, and blowing up five minutes into a match. And there's no doubt YOU can be a superstar too...if you take the advice given and do the complete opposite of it. So what are you waiting for, a kick in the fucking mouth? No, I mean, seriously. You'll be kicked in the mouth.

Anyway, while checking out the site found here, you will see the GREATEST and most inspiring message EVER (found in his comments section) :

"At a time when too much of the world thinks the typical American is just a bitter, witless bully who abuses his position because he can, it's important that they get to see another side. I think Bob Holly is the antidote. I think Bob Holly is freedom."



Nash’s to Ashes. Dust to Dust.

When TNA finally got its primetime slot on Spike TV, they needed a main eventer; they needed a man who personified “Total Nonstop Action” (well, if you’re talking about how many ring rats he’s fucked); They needed KEVIN NASH. And who better to put asses in the seats than a man who holds WWE’s record for putting the least amount of them into them? Oh yeah, that’s right, ANYBODY.

But still, fate was not smiling on the latest “well deserved” foray into the top of the card for Kevin Nash. And the weekend of Bound For Glory, the stress of expending absolutely no energy whatsoever for a year was too much for him to take. And naturally he suffered a heart attack as a result. So let me be the first one to say, slow down, Kev! You’re too hard on yourself! Get well, big man!


Rectum? Damn Near Killed Him!

You know, most bosses just don’t have the common courtesy to knee you in the groin when you’re fired. They just let you go, maybe throw you a party, and leave you with a fairly decent severance package. But not the McMahons. They truly CARE about their employees. I mean, why air a nice tribute video showcasing your appreciation for their many years of service, when you can just air, I don’t know, a video making light of colon cancer!? Sounds about right. Oh, and the best part? There’s no silver lining! You’re not coming back! Your best friend who’s “defending” you on TV is booked to lose! It’s totally and completely futile. Man, I love this company.

In any event, while Vince was pulling JR’s head out of his ass (although it looked more like V.P. Dick Cheney to me, see here) he might as well have booked an appointment to have his own rectum given an exam. I mean, only a huge asshole could create this much shit, right?

Let’s Get Retarded

Eugene, wrestling’s most celebrated mongoloid, was suspended indefinitely for overdosing on what has been revealed to be somas. He’s been since sent to rehab. Man, Eugene. Don’t you know drugs can give you brain damage? You don’t want to end up a retard, do you?

Seriously though, the guy was actually expected to be that character by the WWE EVERYWHERE. I wish I were kidding. And with that in mind, if the guy was stoned, would you really be able to tell the difference? Who could? “I think there’s something wrong with Eugene! He seems to be acting all coherent and normal. I tried to give him some glue to eat, but he just swatted it out of my hands. I’m really worried about him.”

Ah, I kid. Get better buddy.

That’s Mr. Dog Face to You.

In the one of the most hilarious stories in while, Rick Steiner, last seen using Lash Leroux’s quasi-lifeless body as a speed bag in 2001 on Nitro, has now retired from wrestling (he apparently had been selling Real Estate. “This dining room is so quaint. You could over-head belly to belly, 5 maybe 6 people in here! It’s just perfect for you!”) but apparently, he’s ran, and WON a seat on the Cherokee County school board. And I don’t know about you, but clearly I want the education of my children in the hands of a man who once lost a verbal debate to fucking Chucky from Child’s Play.

Anyway, the article (read here) goes onto say “Steiner praised the district's anti-bullying program”. This is too much. Rick went on to say “Ya, to hell with the bullies! We should stiff them and bloody ‘em up until they stop their bullying! And we should get the bigger, stronger kids to help us do it! Hoo, hoo, hoo!” Ok, clearly, he didn’t say that. Whatever.

Better Not Bring Yo' Kids!

Last September, rumors began swirling that at some point, Vince had seen Comedy Central’s Chappelle’s show, and became inspired to create a character (or characters) based on some the sketches. Ultimately, nothing came of this. And I’m sure that sat well with those black wrestlers backstage who’d have likely been forced to go up to Stephanie and say “I wish I had 2 more hands. So I could give them titties four thumbs down!” Sadly, we’ll never know.

However, this didn’t keep Harry & I from speculating how WWE might have been different had Vince implemented these characters.

Obviously, it’d be safe to assume that Matt Hardy would be subjected to “When keepin’ it real, goes wrong”. And from there, mostly due to the bald head and huge moustache, the Immortal Hulk Hogan would be repackaged as… ORANGE GALLAGHER; destroying watermelons with the atomic leg drop, and if the situation called for it, the awesome will of HULKAMANIA alone. And from there, we’d all bear witness to Pro Wrestling’s first ever Racial Draft!:

“The blacks have just taken back John Cena. He is now 100% black. But wait. The white delegation has just countered this coup by claming Jonathan Coachman as their own.  This just in. The Black Delegation will agree to this trade so long as the Jewish Delegation agrees to take back Marc Mero".

And of course, the Chappelle tribute would not be complete without Lil Jon! Here’s what you might have seen (thanks to Harry for this) had Shelton Benjamin been forced into the role:

Johnny Ace: Shelton, can I talk to you for a minute?

Lil Shelton: WHAT?

Johnny Ace: Shelton, can I talk to you for a minute?

Lil Shelton: WHAT?

Johnny Ace: Shelton, can I talk to you for a minute?


Johnny Ace: I'm sorry, but we're going to have to release you.

Lil Shelton: WHAT?

Johnny Ace: I'm sorry, but we're going to have to release you.

Lil Shelton: WHAT?

Johnny Ace: I'm sorry, but we're going to have to release you.

Lil Shelton: WHAT?

Johnny Ace: (Sighs) ...never mind.

Lil Shelton: OKAAAAAAAAY!!

Unfortunately, we may never have known what Vince may have had in store for us. Thank God.



Not much has been made of this online, which I’ve found surprising, but HHH has recently been featured in commercial ads for Wendy’s. He’s seen for a fraction of a second, proudly proclaiming his love and admiration for “his” patented hamburger: Triple Beef! Also appearing in the spots was Verne “Mini Me” Troyer. And I think based on the rub alone of a mega star like Mini Me, we can safely say that this means that HHH can now consider himself among the upper echelon of Hollywood royalty.

Now, with that said. James Walker and I, several weeks ago were discussing just this. And it got me to thinking. What if Vince McMahon, in an attempt to branch out, purchased the Wendy’s franchise, and ran it his way? What would the menu be like? Which WWE superstars would work there, and if so, what would they do? Etc.

First, obviously, the ENTIRE franchise would be built around the sheer deliciousness of TRIPLE BEEF; primarily because no other sandwich could work main menu in a believable fashion. Other large oversized hamburgers would also litter the menu, with the lower calorie, and lighter meals being unfortunately relegated to a drive thru that no one ever goes through.

Some items on the menu could potentially include the “RVD baked potato”, because after all, who knows more about dishing out potatoes, and being baked than our Mr. Monday Night?

No doubt people will be somewhat queasy when they discover Gene Snitsky is handling the meat in the back. And from there, the odd accident may occur, not limited to Big Show freezing to death in the stock freezer, passing out with a swollen stomach after devouring all the condiments. Nathan Jones will also likely be brought back, if only to provide custom-made milk shakes…straight from his own glands! Who says the unnatural side effects of steroids can’t be useful? And sure, there will probably be some more snafus along the way. Take Booker T. for example. Old habits will die hard for the Book, when he’ll be compelled to relive his youthful indiscretions, by slipping on a wool balaclava and stealing all the money in the till… before scurrying out the pick-up window where Sharmelle will be waiting with a started car. However, he’ll be immediately busted and fired, because he didn’t have the good sense to first change his monogrammed Booker T. trunks before pulling off the heist. Too bad.

From there, Vince will begin utilizing some of his classic business techniques, including stealing the fry cook away from the competing Burger King. Only to send him off to work at a mall food court for “seasoning”, before ultimately firing him altogether. People however will rejoice when the underutilized and underappreciated salad bar makes the jump to McDonalds. It’ll all be a learning curve, really.

As for the service itself, I can imagine the following exchange between customer and cashier over the limitedness of the menu:

Customer: “Do you have anything smaller? All these huge patties are getting a little monotonous.”

Cashier: “You just don’t “get” it! No one wants to eat the hamburger you want. It doesn’t draw! Its job is to enhance the Triple Beef. You don’t want it. Trust me.”

However, long before you’d ever even get to take your order, HHH would come out, and you’d first have to listen to him describe the specials for upwards of 30 consecutive minutes, until he’s completely beating a dead horse (not Triple Beef) before any of the cooking even starts. The whole process will also likely end with Trips getting up on the counter and taking a huge gulp of your “Biggie” drink and subsequently spewing it onto the line-up of horrified potential customers. Good times.

And of course finally, despite the fact that there’s pretty much the same thing on the menu constantly (well, except on Taboo Tuesdays where the customer can have his choice of any three TRIPLE BEEFS they wanted. They’ll have all the power!) Vince will address the staff in an attempt to turn things around.

Vince: "Ok guys. Business is slow. No one is really buying Triple Beef it seems. So, obviously, that means we’ll have to make some big changes as it pertains to Triple Beef. And I think the most logical way that can be done is….. Menu cuts! Clearly, the less options there are, the more people will be FORCED to order the Triple Beef. Right? It HAS to work!"  

On second thought, I don’t know about WWEndy’s. I think I’d rather just eat at a TNA restaurant. Sure all the food looks the same, and the menu is chaotic and somewhat nonsensical, but the service is at least fast; even if Don West telling me that “this is the greatest burger I’ve ever seen in my life!” every time I order might get old pretty quickly. But, even if I do get tired of that, I can always sue them when the Jarrett Burger gives me food poisoning. Sounds like a plan.

Ok, that's likely it for 2005. I'd say "what a year!" but sadly I was pretty much either sleeping or "in no condition to remember" so I'll just take your word for it. Oh, and if I don't see you before,  Have a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah,   Killer Kwanza, or a Festivus for the Restivus.  2006, Here I Cum.

I'm Sean.

Sean Carless is a man of many hats. And he wears those hats to cover an ever-increasing bald spot. Sean's various scribblings have been read at Live Audio Wrestling, 411 Mania, Honky Tonk Man.com, The Toronto Star.com, and Lethal Wrestling. He has also cured AIDS.

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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.).