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By Catherine Perez


Christ, these weeks just fly right by lately! Welcome back once again to another week of Deadface Walking. I'm Catherine, and, holy shit, I got one hell of a response about last week's angry little rant on the Official Nintendo Magazine Forums and their use of TWF's photoshoppery. Firstly, thanks to those of you who sent e-mails for not filling said e-mails with hate-filled "hai fuk u cuz u suk so fuk u betch" and other assorted gems; it's nice to know that education is still valued on this planet! Secondly, just so I don't get any further e-mails, the situation was resolved with no hard feelings, as far as I can tell... though I should've demanded a Wii as compensation or something. I kid. Nice people, those guys. I hereby retract my statement where I promised them anal obliteration via a 16th century dildo with a hand crank.

For those who somehow haven't heard yet, the lady who played Randy Orton's wife was Playboy Playmate and model Laura Croft. Yeah, yeah, you'd raid her tomb, very funny. I'd like to thank Laura for exposing the WWE fans to some of the most wooden acting ever since Keanu Reeves. Her frozen, PVC face staring into the deep abyss that is the camera as Orton cut a promo from the comfort of his home in Missouri (coughFLORIDAcough), and her indifference to being face to face with an angry, sledgehammer wielding Triple H was just a little too much for me to bear. WWE.com called it "cowering in fear". I call it shithole acting. How 'bout hiring an actress next time, geniuses? One that looks less like a RealDoll. Or just buy the RealDoll and save some money. And yourselves, from lonely nights.

TNA announced on Tuesday that they will have a real, live celebrity wrestling at their Lockdown pay-per-view. ZOMG, A REAL, ACTUAL CELEBRITY~! Remain calm, readers, it's not Pacman Jones again. No, the big, awesome, huge celebrity is none other than, wait for it, DANNY BONADUCE! Heeeere's Buyrates! Actually, anyone who angrily sends Johnny Fairplay crashing onto the floor while sporting a look of nonchalance on his face is o-fucking-kay in my book. The official contract signing between Bonaduce and his yet-to-be-named opponent (please be Don West) will take place during his radio show on March 20th, so shoot me an e-mail if you happen to catch that show.

TNAWrestling.com is teasing a new character called Andromeda, who's going to be played by Cassandro from AAA. Aw, hell, I was half expecting TNA to have signed Kevin Sorbo of Hercules fame. Or that ugly, pointy-eared kid from that old Nickelodeon show, Space Cases. I forgot his name. Or... um... what else is associated with Andromeda? Damn. And thus, my little joke ends miserably. I will say, however, that I really don't care for TNA's new characters anymore, especially considering Suicide and Brutus Magnus. And Daffney Palin. Oh, how I weep for Daffney Palin (in fact, I'm thinking of changing my e-mail address to 'weepsomemore').

Candice Michelle, a Los Angeles native, failed to make a scheduled appearance at a K-Mart in just outside of L.A. because of her injury. Last week, however, Candice was apparently just fine enough to make it to Las Vegas to
party at the PURE Nightclub for the 5th Annual National Heads-Up Poker Championship Draw. Yep. But, hey, get well soon and all that jazz, Candice. I'm sure your fans wouldn't want you to strain your ankle as you sit down and sign some 8x10s and Playboy covers. Nope, you just stand around and take pictures with your Go-Daddy friends and a bunch of celebs like Mr. Kotter and fucking Herman Munster... I mean, Brad Garrett. Candice totally deserves to relax, you know. Again, get well soon~!

The 500th episode of Smackdown will be taped on March 17th, which I guess will air on the 20th. Don't worry if you miss it, as I'm sure this momentous occasion will come by again like a blue moon about six weeks later.

This past Tuesday on my grandma's favorite show, Despierta America (on Univision), John Cena announced that he was single and looking for Latina women. Uh... hooray for us Latinas? Waaait, what about that wedding in July? Oh well. I hope Cena's not too surprised when he finds that many Latinas look nothing like Jennifer Lopez. I would know; I live in a city that's 68% Hispanic. It was more like 59% back in 2000, but, I shit you not, lots of white people packed their shit and raced off towards neighboring cities. I know, completely irrelevant to the report, but I just wanted to share that funny little tidbit.

In case there's someone out there who's still wondering about Ryan Braddock's whereabouts, it appears that he's been released this week. Well, what the hell was the point in the whole thing?! Oh, well; at least his legacy will be forever ingrained in the hearts of... um... fans of
long hair and kick-ass punk rock vests? Speaking of which, I need to add a spiffy vest like that to my wardrobe. Also taking a hike, back to the Kizarnival, is Kizarny~! What in the razzle frazzle?! Four columns ago, I was wondering where he'd disappeared to, and now I get this slice of bad news? What shit! At least I'LL miss you, Kizarny. I'm tellin' you, if they had debuted him as a heel and forced less of the izzle bizzles onto the unsuspecting public, he'd have been U.S. champ by now. Is that belt even being held by anyone anymore?

At an indy show in California last weekend, Paul London debuted a new gimmick where he kind of looks like the sixth member of Devo (the classic line-up) mixed with an astronaut. Judging from the
picture, this gimmick is clearly awesome. If he makes Whip It his entrance theme and uses a synthesizer (or a whip) as an illegal weapon, I'll damn well bump him up to my top ten favorite wrestlers list. Why do I suddenly have Elton John's 'Rocket Man' stuck in my head?!

Can you believe there wasn't enough news this week to warrant a least interesting news bit? So, this week's MOST TASTELESS news bit goes to the Smackdown writers and Matt Hardy! It's one thing to mention the house fire that totally wasn't a meth lab explosion, not in the least. Pulling out that dog collar on Smackdown this past Friday? Dear God, people. I like to think I still have a small shred of human decency in me, so, like Shane Steele said over on the Smackdown Rant, what a disgusting promotional tactic. Has Sarah McLachlan and her plight for the neglected animals taught them nothing? Don't give us ANOTHER commercial full of doe-eyed puppies (I really love that one-eyed one. Guess what I'd name him? Cyclops.) set to monotone borefest music to sit through and feel bad about! Leave the poor dog out of the fuckin' storyline, for fuck's sake.

And because there's a frightening lack of photoshoppery (or rather, a lack of news worthy of photoshoppery), here's something I made a couple of months ago that never made it to the column, as far as I know:

I know, you were probably expecting some sweet Nice Shoot goodness this week. Well, those of you who enjoy this section of my column. If you didn't read my reason for this yet, check out my last column. In the meantime, if there's a fake interview I haven't written yet, let me know! I could use some suggestions to help the writer's block along. Please? You'll get candy and other cool things. That being said, here's the end of Deadface~! Make sure to leave feedback (and Nice Shoot ideas) using the e-mail address below and/or MySpace. Now head on over to the MAIN PAGE and clickity-clack all over the TWF Staff's updates for the week. You'll laugh! You'll cry! You'll wonder where the hell your pants went. FYI: they're around your ankles. Please remove your hand from the murky depths of your Betty Boop boxer shorts. Pig. And on that note, I take my leave. Toodles~!

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.

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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.).