Home | Columns & Rants | Satire | Entertainment | Media | Archives | Forum

By Catherine Perez


Welcome back to Deadface Walking, your only source for fashionably late news that you've read elsewhere last week. Well, not really your only source, but let's just say it is for argument's sake. I'm your comically-inclined hostess, Catherine Perez. Since last week's column was about half a week late and I didn't get to report on last week's most shocking news bits, this week will have a few of last week's headlines peppered in. I do it because I'm cool enough to literally turn back the hands of time and such. Or not. By the way, I've got a most important announcement (more like a request) at the end of this column, so you'd all better fucking read this whole thing, and don't even think about skipping down to the end as if I'm some program installation wizard agreement. That being said, let's begin~!

The push Mickie James is currently receiving was originally going to go to Ashley Massaro. Amazing; WWE have finally made a good call. I was actually pretty worried when I had read that Ashley was due for a women's title reign. They could have given Ashley's push to a gorilla and I still would've been happy. Was this not the most perfect segue into...

THIS?! A number of Playboy Playmates, Maxim models, porn stars, and WWE's very own Ashley are among the women linked to a high-end L.A. escort service called Bella Models, says the new issue of Rolling Stone Magazine (the one with the girls from The Hills on the cover). The escort service, run by a woman named "Nici", would set rich clients up with these women for up to $25,000 a night for their, um, services. The article makes note of the fact that Nici isn't the only person making these claims; the FBI tracked down e-mails where Bella Models made travel arrangements for Ashley and other girls. The escort service was taken down by the FBI, and Rolling Stone felt free to list several escorts' names, one being that of Ashley's (who even gets a picture and a listing as "WWE star and Playboy cover girl"). Ashley has mentioned in her MySpace blog that the story is bullshit, and she is contacting her lawyer over the matter. In an interesting twist, Dave Meltzer reports that there is a bikini model named Ashley Massaro who lives in Las Vegas, who is actually younger than WWE's Ashley, except the two supposedly look quite similar and could have been mixed up. Uh huh, and I look like Katherine fucking Heigl. I can't wait to see how this crazy story pans out.

"Fire Mike Adamle" signs have been confiscated by security at recent Smackdown and ECW tapings, with three being taken away in Greensboro, North Carolina. What shit; where's the harm in threatening a man's employment? Oh. Still, even Adamle knows he sucks, as evidenced by some guy named Billy with the unfortunate last name of Krotchsen. Billy had told Adamle that he's doing a great job as ECW announcer, only for Adamle's reaction. Adamle supposedly made a face and replied, "Well, it's getting there." It's unknown if the 'there' in question is "to half-steaming shit level", but, in all seriousness, it's good to know that Adamle isn't kidding the fans or himself about how not great he is. As much as Adamle sucks, it's good to see that WWE pretty much counteracted said suck by slapping Mick Foley next to Michael Cole on Smackdown. Now if we could do away with Cole himself...

In a move that has me wondering why security should be confiscating "Fire Adamle" signs anyway, WWE looks to be feeding off everyone's dislike for Adamle and putting it into some kind of angle that began with Tazz and Adamle doing what most of the audience should: walking out on ECW fifteen minutes before the show's ending on Tuesday. It has recently come to light that there was a fan heckling the shit out of Adamle at the show, asking how many mistakes he'd be making on the show that night. A WWE tech guy threatened to throw the kid out if the heckling continued. So, let me get this straight; we, the wrestling fans, gave Adamle some fucking direction by being the basis of his new angle, but now that the story is "WWE fans hate Mike Adamle", wrestling fans suddenly have to stop giving Adamle shit? Pathetic. No idea what this is going to develop into, but chances are it'll have the worst pay-off since Vince's Bastard Son.

Be afraid, European hotel management! The Europe Hotel Massacre lives on! Sometime around April 18th, Randy Orton angrily hurled room service food at hotel staff for daring to wake him up earlier than he wanted to be awakened. Good to know anger management is paying off so well. Ironically enough, Orton recently told the Baltimore Sun in an interview that he feels like a better person for "finally" pulling his head out of his ass, since he's going to be a dad in July. Really, Randy? What tells me otherwise is the fact that Orton laughed his way back to his room, most likely in his slow-motion monotone voice: "Ha. Haha. Haaaaaaa. Man. That's. Hil. Ari. Ous." A crippling case of Rectal-Cranial Inversion if I've ever heard one.

TNA seriously expressed disappointment over last week's typical 1.0 rating, especially since the main event featured Samoa Joe taking on Kurt Angle. WHAT?! What TNA fails to realize here is that they're going to have a terrible time getting more people to actually watch their shows if they're not willing to address their major problems, the biggest one being their horrible storylines and their unwillingness to actually market their stars outside of fucking YouTube. Wrestlemania didn't turn into a monstrous franchise by word of mouth, that's for fucking sure. Did I just compare TNA iMPACT to Wrestlemania? A lobotomy's looking real good right about now.

Rhaka Khan will be left out of TNA's latest trading card set after the head of the trading card company was furious to find that some of the autographed signatures on Khan's cards looked forged, with "Rhaka" and "Khan" misspelled on them. Khan explained that signing all those cards had bored her, and she began to experiment with her handwriting to entertain herself. I think the real tragedy here is the fact that TNA thinks anyone is going to buy a fucking Rhaka Khan card. That's like assuming people want to see Dustin Rhodes wrestle, or that people are enthralled by the fact that RELLIK is KILLER backwards. I'd love to meet someone who is truly a fan of Rhaka Khan's entirely forgettable TNA run thus far.

The Sandman passed out at a 2CW show in Syracuse, NY on April 12th. Fans described Sandman as a mess, mumbling on the microphone when he spoke. Sandman worked a short match before hitting the sack, which must have been a hell of a spectacle for the crowd. Spike Dudley had to come out to help Sandman to the back, and I just can't bring myself to believe that little Spike Dudley actually lugged that big guy any distance. Unfortunately, the 100 fans who wanted photos with Sandman would have to settle for the Blue Meanie, who then came out and started signing autographed and talking with the fans. Hey, I'd much rather chat with a coherent Meanie than be mistaken for a giant, talking beer by Sandman. Dear god.

And now... (cue drumroll) your least important news bit of the week! Jonathan Coachman's contract is set to expire with the next couple of months, and it looks like he might be leaving to work full-time for the MSG Network. Hey, that's... um... sad to hear? I'm just saying, it's not like WWE will be putting together a Ric Flair-sized farewell segment for him anytime soon. Seriously.

Welcome back to Hey Man Nice Shoot: Where's Abyss? Now, seeing as I just couldn't bring myself to embark on my journey towards finding Abyss with this raggedy-assed team of lackluster motherfuckers, I've invited a couple of my team members to the Hey Man Nice Shoot studio for an interview. Tonight we've got Kane and ODB - Kane, ODB, thanks for joining me and all that shit. You know how this works; I ask questions, you try your damndest to not piss me off. Kane, let's start with you. How excited were you to find out that you were chosen to be on my team?

Kane: Well... um... you'd know. You were there.

I was, wasn't I? Can't you pretend you were ecstatic or something?

Kane: No.

Oh. Okay. So, then, um... tell me how your week's been since the audition.

Kane: Okay. Let's see... I went home... laid in bed next to the emptiness that was once the love of my life, Lita... I set a cat on fire... I had to call my Firestarters Anonymous chairperson for support. Then, um, Don West called me... I'm not entirely sure how he got my number... Oh, and, um, I had some cherry churros for breakfast.

...that's your entire week?

Kane: Pretty much.
ODB: Yeaaaah, man! Cherry churros go great with some whiskey.

I'll bet. So, ODB, how's your week been?

ODB: Man, my week's been totally killer. I went to this bar and got into a fight with some dude. Actually, I think I got into a fight with Curry Man. Dude's mask came off and he just ran the hell out screamin' somethin' about Jimmy Cornette seein' him. Crazy thing, too; all his hair was stickin' to the inside of the mask. I must've ripped that thing off good, haha!

[ODB takes an incredibly long swig of whatever alcoholic beverage she keeps in her flask.]

Wow. My week almost pales in comparison. Really. Kane, as far as pro wrestling goes, do you consider yourself successful?

Kane: Let's see; I was doing fairly well with my mask on, then I took it off and suddenly had to watch Triple H fuck a mannequin, then I married Lita - I guess chicks don't dig the mask after all - and we divorced, then my life spiraled down a gaping hole of moral dilemma. Oh, and I'm ECW Champion. How successful am I, Catherine?

....very? Hey, it could be worse. You could be Mike Adamle.

Adamle: I resent that, Caffeine.

Resent elsewhere, neanderthal. I'm trying to talk to Kane here. So, Kane, for those of us who can't bring ourselves to watch the mess that is ECW, what's been going on there since your title win?

Kane: Catherine, it's kind of like experiencing deja vu every week of my life. I wrestle Chavo Guerrero. It's like I'm stuck in a time warp. I'm so glad you picked me to be on your team; I could really use a break from the everyday routine.

I really feel for you. I do. ODB, you and the rest of the TNA Knockouts have some sort of hair match to not look forward to. I've gotta know... who booked that shit?

ODB: It doesn't matter who books TNA, Catherine. Everyone blames that dude, Vince Russo, and everybody's real cool with that. Except Vince. Sometimes he cries and everything, but I tell him to suck it up 'cause TNA ain't no place for little pansies - YEAH!!!

Man, you are a little too energetic for me. Is that what's in your flask? 5 Hour Energy?

ODB: Nah, dude! This here's 100% Bud Light Lime... spiked with 5 Hour Energy!

Jesus Christ. I can only imagine the havoc that's wreaking upon your liver.

ODB: Aw, I don't care! I'm already on the waiting list for a new liver anyway. It's my third go on that list, too.

Lord. Kane, ODB, I've gotta be honest here. You guys are boring the everloving shit out of me. Why not complain to your respective head honchos about getting more prominent roles on television?

Kane: ODB can't help it; she works for TNA.
ODB: Yeah, and Kane can't help it either; dude wrestles on ECW. As a matter of fact, TNA beat ECW in the ratings. TNA iMPACT, Thursday nights at 9 PM eastern time!

What the fuck? ODB would never shamelessly plug TNA.

ODB: What do you mean, Catherine Perez?

...Don, is that you?

ODB: [Sigh] You've got me, Catherine Perez. [The ODB costume and mask come off to reveal Don West.]

Look, Don, I knew it was you the whole time. The costume was terrible. Though, I've gotta commend you on not saying my full name after every sentence.

West: Thank you, Catherine Perez. Catherine Perez, I can't believe you didn't invite me to your fancy interview show.

Dude, I already had you on, remember? Why don't you get out of here and fetch me the real ODB?

West: ODB's currently incapacitated in the iMPACT Zone's backstage area, Catherine Perez. I deprived her of alcohol for seven minutes and she passed out, Catherine Perez.

Wow. Well, I'm going to ignore you now and talk to Kane. Kane, I own a personalized, autographed copy of your book, Journey Into Darkness. Do you mind signing it again? In your blood?

Kane: What?

[Cough.] Nothing. Nothing at all. Well, I guess that ends my interview, which unfortunately means we're just about ready to start our search for Abyss.

Kane: Oh. Good. I think I'll go play Operation on my collection of cat corpses.

Too much information, my friend. That's all for this week's Hey Man, Nice Shoot! Join me, Kane, Don West, and the rest of the team as we begin the ultimate search for a not-so-ultimate wrestler! GOODNIGHT, BITCHES!

And that's all for Deadface Walking, which means it's time for my super important announcement. I'd like to throw a most shameless plea out there to all my readers (as per the suggestion of Sean Carless, and I tell you this because you'll probably be more into it if I mention the Pope of TWF):

THE SEND CATHERINE TO WRESTLEMANIA OR GET CANCER OF THE COCK SUPER FANTABULOUS DONATION FUND (as lovingly named by Sean)~! Yes, I am heading from Boston, Massachusetts to Houston, Texas for Wrestlemania 25 with my most awesome friend of the best persuasion, Katy, who's reading this right now and grinning from ear to ear. As many of you have seen, WWE.com is offering these amazing Wrestlemania packages where you get to spend all of Wrestlemania weekend attending every event, including the Granddaddy of them all. Katy and I are online friends, and we are both dying to meet each other (I mean, seriously, we've been friends for 3 and a half years now) and witness Wrestle-fucking-mania for the first (and probably only) time, but there's just one obstacle in our way: me raising 816 American dollars. So far I've got about $500, so what I need from you guys is donations. Yeah, I told you this was a shameless request - but Sean was the one who came up with it. I don't care if you send me 50 cents, a dollar, 2 dollars, 200 dollars, I just need help raising $316 for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and, honestly, asking you guys seemed like a great idea since my ventures into eBay aren't working out at all. So, yeah, if you've got PayPal, I will gladly take donations by way of this fancy little button below:
Christ, I hope that button works. So, yeah, thanks to everyone in advance, and have a lovely week! And remember to check out all the fantastic updates of the week, because they're all awesome.

Catherine Perez is a proud owner of three e-mails from WWE's legal department, which she regularly prints out for when all the toilet paper runs out.  She was the first person to call the Ghostbusters after witnessing something strange in her neighborhood, and is thus immortalized in a song that was made popular four years before her birth.  Catherine enjoys collecting vintage WWF t-shirts, painting on her clothing, and the smell of crushed dreams in the mornings. She also shot J.R.

Bookmark and Share


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.).