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DEADFACE WALKING!:
(04/26/09)
By Catherine Perez
 
[PICS AND LOGO CREATED BY CATHERINE PEREZ].

WARNING: This column is pretty fucking long. It is an account of an entire weekend, after all. Don't like it? Well, there's not much I can do for you. Please accept this gift of absolute nothingness.

Holy shit, she's back~! That's right, TWF Crab Nebula, it is I, Catherine Perez, here to bring you good tidings, a big WrestleMania 25 Weekend Column, and loads of fucking commas! This could have been up earlier, but my first effort at this column got completely freakin' wiped out by my Acer laptop, which died on me sometime around the 8th or 9th. It was horrible. My world had fallen through my ass that day. Either way, there's a lot to go over, so do yourselves a favor and grab a Coke (or beer... or Absinthe for you freaky international goth types), plant that ass on a couch, and enjoy as I take you...

 
ON THE ROAD TOWARDS THE END OF THE ROAD TO WRESTLEMANIA... ROAD.

While I've decided not to go into the days leading up to WrestleMania Weekend (they turned out to be not so fantastic), I'd like to inform all my fans, especially those of you who prefer the city to the country, to never move to Kansas, Oklahoma, or Texas. I flew into Kansas, stayed in Oklahoma for a couple of days, and rode shotgun for eight hours on Interstate 45 in Texas, yet I saw nothing but fucking grass and cows! Moooo, moooo, MOOOOO!!! Dear GOD. Very cool at first, since I don't see many cows up in Massachusetts unless I'm riding near the MSPCA, but once the car rode by Cow #324, I was fed the hell up. I hate cows. That Burger King meal I had that weekend had me feeling pretty vindicated. Take that, you multiple-tittied fiends who can't read this column! What are you going to do now that I've besmirched the good name of the cow? Probably eat more grass. Good choice.
 
I should also mention that, while I already didn't like the stuff, I hereby LOATHE any and all Country music. Every song on the classic Country stations sounded like the theme to Jackass, and every contemporary Country station sounded like Shania fucking Twain. Well, howdy-ho! It's the number 1 Country music station in Ennis, Texas~! OH WAIT, IT'S JUST TAYLOR GODDAMNED SWIFT AGAIN. Why couldn't they at least play some Johnny Cash? I like Cash. Boy Named Sue is kick-ass.

Actually, I did enjoy eating at J.R.'s restaurant in Norman, Oklahoma on the 2nd. The rare wrestling memorabilia all over the walls -- his Hall of Fame plaque, some wrestling tights, tons of pictures -- was pretty awesome to ogle at as I fed my face. I'd have taken pictures, but, you know, I was eating. It was delicious, thanks~! Now I understand why J.R. loves his barbecue sauce so much, 'cause that's some tasty fucking sauce. What else is there to say about J.R.'s? Add a bit more breathing room in those booths for those of us who aren't blessed with a mild case of Anorexia, perhaps? YOU KNOW BETTER THAN THAT, J.R.~! Anyway, moving along...

 
So, yeah, on Friday, I checked into Houston's four-star, fancy-pants Hyatt hotel. Houston resembled Boston, so that was pretty sweet, too, since I was sick to death of grass and cows. I walked in there with my luggage, looked around and thought to myself, "Hey, this is pretty fucking snazzy!" It was on that word, "snazzy", that my fellow wrestling fans began to stampede into the hotel, prompting some businessmen and assorted staff members to turn their heads and stare, aghast, as the hotel's classiness was violently sucked into a nearby abyss. What the hell was Chris Parks doing standing there anyway? Ahem. Unfortunately, my room was booked on the 16th floor, at the very end of the hallway in 1627. Before I could get up there, though, Samuel L. Jackson tried to bribe me into checking into a penthouse suite with an $800 bottle of Cognac. Wait, wrong story. And I apologize for such a sad movie reference.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
That same Friday, I headed out to WWE's April 3rd Axxess event (I believe it was Day 2), which I had to purchase a ticket for since the WrestleMania Package didn't provide one for that day. After standing in line for... let's say half an hour or so, we were all on our way into Axxess~! At the entrance was a shitload of ENORMOUS Superstar banners. I'm telling you, Attack of the 50-Foot Orton has GOT to be added to the WWE Films agenda. It'd be awesome; he'd RKO skyscrapers, punt some city trolleys to kingdom come, and kiss some fine, tiny bitches with those unnaturally wet lips of his, and then there'd be an awesome cameo from the Power Rangers - all played by MVP - and that fat, pasty, white head, Zordon - played by Kane. Joey Styles can be Alpha 5, but I digress.

At this event, I got to take a picture with Jillian Hall and Rosa Mendes (whom I couldn't, for the life of me, recognize until about an hour later when I passed by the sign at the end of the line that read 'JILLIAN HALL and ROSA MENDES'). Jillian's 'new' face wasn't quite the shock to see in person as it is in pictures. Well, okay, it kind of was. One thing that I learned over the weekend is that these WWE Divas look exactly the same in person as they do on TV (not necessarily in WWE's photoshopped pictures). I didn't really care to have gotten a picture with these two, since Divas are the last people I give a rat's ass about when I watch wrestling, but I was following the person I was with, and she made a bee-line for anything Diva-related. I won't be showing you that picture, because it just about killed my self-esteem for the day. Jillian and Rosa were pretty nice, even though we just said hello. I also got to see WWE's annual video game challenge, in which various Superstars come out and, yep, play THQ's Legends of WrestleMania. It was fantastic getting to see the likes of CM Punk, both Ted DiBiases, Dusty and Cody Rhodes, and Beth Phoenix, but to stand there in that huge crowd to watch them fiddle with their controllers was quite boring. Fortunately, there were some humorous quips from Ted Jr., in which he asked why his dad's head wasn't as huge in the game as it was in person. Ted Sr. let his son know that he still wasn't worth nearly the same amount of cash his dad is, then let out his famous laugh. I didn't stick around for much more of the challenge after the first round.

There was quite a bit to look at at this convention; autograph sessions (I'm pretty sure I saw Jeff Hardy seated at one of the tables, and Torrie Wilson at another), the giant Hell in a Cell cage engulfing a wrestling ring with Hornswoggle's house under it, Undertaker's Graveyard, a small Superstar art gallery, and an area for little kids. The ring in the middle of the convention was hosting a slew of trivia and Superstar impersonation contests, among other things. I think the best part of the day was when I got to see Edge's fine self answer some fans' questions in the ring. Triple H and Shawn Michaels also showed up in all their DX-like glory, which caused the entire Axxess convention to rumble as fans abandoned their places in line all over the place and stampeded towards the ring, screaming their asses off as the DX theme blared over the speakers. Personally, I found it hilarious when the line to meet Jillian and Rosa was practically dwarfed by half.

Speaking of 'dwarf', it was FANTASTIC to find that the Rey Mysterio life-size cardboard stand-up figure stood at a good 6 feet tall (and it was standing in front of a fucking fence. What racists.). It was great to see one guy take a picture of his friend kicking the figure right in the flat, cardboard balls. Actually, if that guy's reading this, send your picture to me~! I also got a picture of these two guys who were dressed up as The Rockers. The outfits were just awesome, and Janetty was the happiest anyone had seen him since a couple of days before on April 1st when Vince McMahon decided to call and rehire him, only to laugh heartily and add, "You really fell for it?! April Foooools~! HAHAHAHA!" before hanging up. Jannetty then lost his own smile. You know, until Axxess. He found it in Hornswoggle's House.

Day 3 of Axxess was more of the same as far as the little exhibits went, only I got to meet one of my absolute favorites, CHRISTIAN~! And I got his autograph! I'd have gotten a picture with him, but apparently my camera is impossible to turn back on once it goes idle after three minutes. I wish you could hear the sarcasm there. I don't think I need to go into how mad I was about that, but at least I got to say hi to Captain Charisma... and he flashed that cute little smile of his at me~! It was like a fangirl's dream come true. I also got CM Punk's autograph! Our short meeting went a little something like the following:

Me: (watching as Punk signs my WrestleMania program)
Punk: (finally looking up as he passes the program back to me) HI~!
Me: H-hi... (cue the moronic smile)

Egh, I should've said something cool like, "Hey, good luck on Sunday~!" or "Hey, sweet t-shirt! I'm a Marvel Comics fan myself~!" I know, I'm a social retard.

I got a picture with Melina, which, again, I won't be putting up because my fragile self-esteem was compromised for a second time. After the picture, she asked me if I was having fun, to which I replied with a really fucking weak "yeah~!" I did want to ask her where she got her sweet top, though, but I assumed it was way out of my price range anyway. According to WWE.com's Axxess photos, Gail Kim was signing autographs somewhere, and Joey Styles was hanging out at the little Call Your Own Match area, but I completely missed them somehow. Actually, I missed a ton of people because the place was just so huge and swamped with people. Some of those: Evan Bourne (whose face is every bit as hilarious as on TV, from what I saw during a match he had sometime around that weekend), Charlie Haas, Josh Mathews, Matt Striker, and Santino Marella - I was pretty bummed about not getting to see him. I did, however, get a nice replacement when some guy entered the Superstar imitation contest in the main ring and pulled off the best Santino impression of all fucking time. Trust me, it was amazing - he nailed everything from the accent to the cockiness to the mannerisms - and I'm sure anyone who was there would agree. While I'm on the topic of imitations, I'd like to request that no one ever imitates Macho Man Randy Savage ever again. Every single attempt I saw was atrocious, and the guy hosting the contests even admitted to being that much closer to ending his life every time someone failed at it. No, it's not as easy as walking around saying everything twice, hollering "ooh yeah", and commanding the crowd to "snap into it" as you twirl your finger in the air. Either way, Day 3 was my favorite of the Axxess sessions.

After the session was over, we all got in line for the Midday Madness autograph session. Unfortunately, this turned out to be a bad experience for me. Take a second, if you weeeel, to imagine me walking around Axxess for four hours in a pair of Converse shoes, shoes that aren't exactly the pinnacle of comfort. After walking for four hours, we all had to stand in line for Midday Madness because it had started immediately after the Axxess session. Buh?! No half-hour break to rest my feet? This line turned out to be one of the two worst of the entire weekend to stand in. The other? I'll get to that in a bit. Early into the wait, we all got to see Mr. Kennedy escorted to a nearby bathroom. He and the crowd shared some dueling KENNEDY~!'s before he went in to do his thing. When he came out, some dudes near me asked him if he had washed his hands. Har har! Kennedy answered with some staring before he quickly threw on a pair of sunglasses, put a hand up and shielded his face from our looks, and bolted down the hallway to some boos. He then turned and gave us this gem before leaving: "There are only two kinds of people in the world who wear sunglasses indoors: blind people and assholes. And I'm not blind." I wish I had gotten a picture, but my camera's batteries were total Walgreens-bought shit and I was saving them up for the actual autograph session.

What followed was what I think was an almost two-hour wait in that line. We all stood there, our feet aching (judging from my own feet and some of the complaints I overheard), waiting to enter that damn room so we could get our autographs. After the first hour and fifteen minutes, someone pointed out that the people who were standing in front when we had only arrived were in the back of the line in the actual room. Wait... did he just say there was a line in that second room? I craned my neck, and, sure enough, there was an ENORMOUS FUCKING LINE in the second room! We were standing in a line to get into a line! After standing for a total of five hours, I was damn near losing it. Even though there was a steady stream of people leaving the autograph session with their signed swag, the Reliant Center employees were literally letting in about six people every fifteen minutes to that room.

When we FINALLY went in, a lot of us were shocked at the sheer magnitude of the line before us. It looked the world's busiest DMV or something. About half of the people in the first couple of rows of the line were sitting on the floor, so I followed suit for a few minutes. We didn't even know who was signing autographs aside from Mr. Kennedy. This British guy behind me joked about how they'd switch out all the cool Superstars and we'd get autographs from the likes of Mike Knox and Dolph Ziggler. I did manage to catch a glimpse of Rey Mysterio, Great Khali, and Maryse - who was seemingly really playing up her heel character with a smidge of a bitch attitude and this smug cunt look on her face. One guy yelled out to her, "YOU'RE HOT!", to which Maryse replied with, "I know." Mr. Kennedy would keep reminding the giant crowd what waited for them at the front of the line by hollering, "Kennedy~!" at random intervals. Before long, my feet were absolutely screaming in pain, and I had to fucking get out of there. On the other hand, I wanted to stick around and at least get a picture of Mysterio for my younger sister before leaving. At one point, a small "THIS LINE SUCKS~!" chant broke out in front of me, which at least got those of us in the back to laugh. Then, from what I heard, the wrestlers got switched for others, and a couple dozen people left within minutes. When I couldn't take the pain in my feet anymore, I booked it the hell out of there and headed back to the hotel to rest and get ready for the Hall of Fame show. From what I overheard between many people at the Midday Madness signing, this was the most poorly planned autograph session of the last three WrestleMania weekends. I'll be honest; to me, no autograph is worth feeling like my feet are parting like the Red fucking Sea. At least the Brit couple were funny. And I learned a valuable lesson that day: Converse high-tops do not make great walking shoes.

That night, the Hall of Fame ceremony was being held at the... um... some venue there (What? I'm not from Houston!). It was amazing! Firstly, there were seats~! Not that it entirely mattered since we all spent a good portion of the show on our feet, clapping. Speaking of which, there was one bit of an awkward minute or so where the APPLAUSE sign got stuck and we were all clapping nonstop until we collectively realized that the fucker broke. At the start of the show, Todd Grisham warned that fans should be respectful and not heckle the wrestlers, or they would "be removed immediately." Coming from Grisham, his warning lacked the intimidating seriousness that it needed. As they showed the wrestlers and their families being seated, the cameras got a look at John Cena, who was very audibly booed. Awesome! I thought I was going to be the only one booing him. Apparently, someone failed to enforce the dress code that was mentioned in e-mails that went out to those who bought WrestleMania packages. While some of us wore nice dresses and suits and whatnot, just as many people slapped on their best jeans and Stone Cold t-shirts. I won't even get into how ridiculous I thought Michael Hayes looked. He could've at least ponytailed his hair. Anyway, my favorite inductees were Koko B. Ware, Ricky Steamboat, and, of course, Steve Austin. Koko's bird kept trying to snatch his speech papers away, which was met with laughter and awwws. Stone Cold's induction was just as kick-ass as I had expected it to be, though I did think the crowd reaction could've been louder. Quite a few people booed Cena sharing some beer with Austin at the end. What the hell was the point of that? Wait, don't answer that. Totally disregarding that I had to watch a lot of the show from the giant TV and that one of the straps on my dress fucking ripped on me, this was a great show.

The last day of Axxess was pretty boring. WWE carted out the likes of Hacksaw Jim Duggan, Ron Simmons, and Afa the Wild Samoan for autographs, which didn't interest me at all (hey, I'm just telling it like it is). There's just something about that look on Duggan's face that irks me greatly. The Mouth of the South, Jimmy Hart, was in the main ring helping to emcee the little trivia contests and whatnot that took place. I pretty much hung around this area for the entire four-hour session, especially since Mr. Kennedy was going to be coming out for some Q&A business. There was another Superstar imitation contest where this one guy absolutely nailed Paul Bearer. Um, not like that. Pig. The Bearer impression was the only highlight of this contest full of failed Hogans, Austins, and Savages. Kennedy finally made his way out, and I was pretty happy to had stuck around since I had a nice, up-front view. Of course, a couple of little asshole kids kept pushing and pushing until they had hijacked my spot. Bastards. There was an attempt to read a question written by some little kid that stated, "This WrestleMania is my most best WrestleMania ever." Not realizing it was written by a kid at first, Kennedy shared a laugh with Hart and the other guy over "most best", with Kennedy jokingly stating, "Yeah, this is my most best WrestleMania, too." To make up for it, they brought the kid into the ring and had him act out Kennedy's self-introduction. It was adorable, especially the kid's weak little "...KENNEDYYYY!" I spent the rest of my time on the phone with my sister, so I didn't catch much else from this Axxess session other than achy feet and a $4 Sprite. Dear God, was everything overpriced. Some girl told me at the session that she couldn't believe a sausage on a stick was damn near $8. I jokingly replied that it was $5 for the sausage, and $3 for the stick. Good stuff, I'm telling you.

Finally, that night was WRESTLEMANIA 25~!11 It was the show we'd all been waiting for, and, shockingly enough, the wait to get almost 73,000 people into their seats was NOWHERE near the fucking fiasco that getting a couple thousand people some autographs was. Go figure. So, yeah, I found my seat in about fifteen minutes, and they weren't too bad~! I could see the ring just fine and everything... if everyone was sitting down, that is. The seats were shit when everyone stood up. Some assholes would even stand up on their seats and obstruct everyone's view, which would prompt some of the people in my section to yell out, "HEY. SIT THE FUCK DOWN." Four guys in the seats in front of me were beyond fucking ecstatic to be at WrestleMania that they'd continuously hug and high-five each other, and scream, "OMIGAHHHH WE'RE AT WRESTLEMANIAAAAAAA!!!" One of them, in a clearly drunken little mood, kept punching himself in the face in delight. Needless to say, I was a bit shocked at their behavior, but I won't deny that they added to my own excitement.

Nicole Shit-Singer Scherzinger of the Pussycat Dolls sang at the top of the show after Carlito and Primo won the unified tag titles in the night's dark match. Way to bump the unification of the prestigious(-ish) tag titles off the show itself. Anyway, I guess I looked like quite the bitch when I was the only person in my section booing her as she was introduced, but I at least gave her a friendly golf clap after the song. Don't ever let people tell you I'm not nice! Right, so the show officially kicked off with the Money in the Bank ladder match, which we were all pretty amped up for. While I couldn't see the wrestlers making their way to the ring until they actually reached the ring (unless I looked up at the giant 'trons), the four crazy dudes in front of me kept me quite entertained by singing everyone's entrance theme at the top of their lungs. There's nothing like hollering, "THIS FIIIIRE BURRRRNS... AAAAALWAAAAYSSSS!!!", I'm telling you. CM Punk and Christian got the loudest cheers as they headed to the ring. From what I could see, most of the crowd was behind Christian for the duration of the match, booing anyone who'd come between him and the briefcase, even Punk. From what I was told, Michael Cole had made a stupid comment about how Kane could "very well be" the fan favorite of the match. How do you even come to that conclusion when guys like Punk, Christian, and Kofi Kingston are in the same ring? The spot where practically everyone but Mark Henry was jumping off the top turnbuckle to the outside was incredibly awesome. Shelton also pulled off a sweet suicide dive off the top of the ladder somewhere during the match. Kofi, I think, had the most impressive performance in the match, but I really did want Christian to win. Great match anyway.

The Kid Rock performance wasn't exactly something I cared to see, and I'm sure I'm speaking for a large portion of the WrestleMania crowd. Quite a few people took off for a snack/bathroom break. I've never liked the guy's music, so to have to sit through a mash-up of his singles was mind-numbing to me. Now I can say that Kid Rock was my first ever concert experience, and I'm very sad about that fact. Many people let me know that, on TV, the little spot where he raised his microphone for all of the crowd to sing along hilariously went over like a fart in church. For the record, a lot of people sang along, but it just wasn't loud enough to get picked up by any microphone. I've gotta remember to watch the footage for a good laugh. Then came this enormous outpouring of Divas who danced their way to the ring. This caused a big moment of confusion, as there were no individual entrances, no introductions, nothing. Twenty-five nameless Divas entered the ring, and we were all left to guess the surprise entrants on our own. Not a damn soul recognized the past Divas, like Sunny and Torrie Wilson, who were eliminated really fucking quickly. Molly Holly was there? That's news to me! The match itself was fucking terrible. Twenty-five years of WWE women's wrestling was tossed into the shitter to give Santino, in drag, the crown (not that I gave much of a rat's ass considering I really don't like WWE's women's division). Sure, we thought it was pretty funny, since a lot of the crowd was pro-Santino once we all caught a glimpse of him. Santino's little sexy dance was just brutal, though. I could just imagine Michael Cole forcing out that dipshit, cuntbag laugh of his over at the announce table.

Chris Jericho vs. the Legends really wasn't much of a match at all until Ricky Steamboat tagged in and showed everyone that he could still go. The crowd was eating up every move Steamboat hit. Hell, we got the guy to wrestle the next night on Raw AND earn himself a nice Backlash payday because of our reaction and "YOU'VE STILL GOT IT~!" chants. Jericho eventually won the match and proved that he was better than the Legends, a point that was thrown right out the fucking window when Mickey Rourke went in and knocked Jericho out with a single punch. Piper, Snuka, and Steamboat (who still wrestles better than some of the younger guys on the WWE roster) couldn't put Jericho away, but Mr. I'm-Only-A-Wrestler-In-The-Movies took him out with a simple left hook? God, if only the Legends had known that Jericho's Off switch rested on his chin, they could've saved themselves the embarrassment of losing a 3-on-1 match.

Matt Hardy vs. Jeff Hardy had this great spot where Matt was lying on a table with another table over him. We were all on our feet to witness Jeff dive off and go through both tables. Jeff even missed a 20-foot leg drop, which must've obliterated his ass cheeks in the worst way. Matt ended up sticking Jeff's head in a chair and hitting a Twist Of Fate for the win. Pretty sweet, if you ask me.

JBL lost a less than 25-second match against Rey Mysterio, who showed up to WrestleMania as The Joker. A lot of us were going nuts over the costume. The match itself, obviously, was nothing worth writing home about. JBL ended up quitting, much to the delight of the crowd. We sang a little "Na Na, Hey Hey, Goodbye" as Jibble made his way to the back. Honestly, I'm still hoping for Jibble's return to the announce table.

We were already cheering loudly during the video package on Undertaker vs. Shawn Michaels since we watched Michaels prepare his grand entrance by entering the little cherry picker and getting raised to his starting position. We knew we were in for an awesome entrance once the white light and the smoke started up. Undertaker came up from a stage door to fire and darkness and other Hellish stuff. It was way too cool. The match that ensued was the best match of the entire show, and just about the coolest match I've ever seen. The fact that I was watching it live made it all the sweeter. I loved participating in the dueling chants and screaming out, "HBK~! HBK~!" The spot where Undertaker hit the suicide dive on the cameraman was just awesome. The crowd was going completely insane during all the near falls and the finisher attempts. The Stadium practically EXPLODED when HBK kicked out of the Tombstone, and when Taker kicked out of the second Sweet Chin Music. One of my favorite spots was the Tombstone countered into a DDT (FUN FACT~!: The DDT is my favorite wrestling move). The ending that had HBK's Moonsault countered into a Tombstone was icing on the fucking cake. As much as I was rooting for Michaels to pick up the win, I cheered the shit out of Undertaker's win. His 17-0 record is definitely well-deserved, especially after that match that had me and the crowd SCREAMING any time someone would do so much as kick out. I'll say that about 90% of the crowd stayed on their feet for the entire match, and those who kept sitting down looked like they were playing fucking Musical Chairs with all that stand up-sit down-stand up business. What an epic match.

As many people have stated, after Undertaker/Michaels, the crowd pretty much died off for the rest of the show. Edge vs. Big Show vs. John Cena was next. Cena, like Kid Rock had done around the beginning of the show, kicked the entire crowd through a time warp into 1999 - 2000 as a shitload of fake Cenas filed out from the back a la Eminem to Basic Thuganomics. It was the scariest shit I've ever seen in my life. Clearly, these scary Cenas all came from WWE's Cena/Orton clone factory, FCW (Freaky Clone Wrestling, if I'm not mistaken). Either way, we all cheered pretty loud for the brief return of Basic Thuganomics. In a freaky moment, all the Cenas waved their hands at their faces as the Real Slim Cena came out to half angry boos and half ecstatic cheers. There was this big group of people wearing anti-Cena shirts that I'm sure had seats close to the ramp, from what I heard. I wonder if they showed up on TV? Anyway, the match had a lot on its plate having to follow up Undertaker and HBK's match, and the result was, in my opinion, kind of underwhelming. It was a good match even though the crowd was kind of quiet for a lot of it. One thing that stood out, though, was when Cena had Show and Edge up at the same time for the F.U.--er, sorry, the ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT. Sure, on TV, I can't help but roll my eyes as the announcers try to shove THE SHEER POWER OF JOHN CENA down everyone's throats every time he puts some ginormous wrestler on his shoulders, but seeing it live is, I swear, a completely different experience. Even I found myself standing up and exclaiming, "No fucking WAY~!" Still don't care for it on TV, though. Can we get some scientists to determine why stupid feats of strength are really cool in a live setting? I need to know!

WWE honored the 2009 Hall of Fame inductees after the match. Terry and Dory Funk, Bill Watts, Koko B. Ware, Kevin Von Erich, Howard Finkel, and Steve Austin all came out. I'm sure you can guess who got the biggest pop. Austin disappeared from the segment, but came right back out in some more comfortable clothes, riding an ATV around the ring as the entire crowd went nuts. You know, as immensely loud as the crowd was, I was kind of surprised that the cheers weren't as deafening as I'd imagined it would be. Austin shared a beer with J.R., and then chugged some more. It was pretty awesome; my first-ever wrestling event, and I got to see Stone Cold himself. SUCK ON THAT. After all that, Lilian Garcia announced that 72,744 was the night's attendance number. It certainly fucking looked like it~!

The main event, Triple H vs. Randy Orton, suffered from a small shortage of crowd reaction, unfortunately. Personally, I was too damn exhausted to invest my emotions into the match after almost four hours of screaming and whatnot. We'd do the occasional Triple H and RKO chants and stand up to check out the big spots of the match, but, well, you saw it on TV. I read somewhere that this match had a lot of missed spots, but I couldn't tell from my seat. Most of the crowd cheered for Trips, but I'll be damned if I didn't notice that a huge portion of the crowd was disappointed with Orton losing. Shitloads of people were flocking out of the doors as Triple H celebrated in the ring, but I think that was more of a leaving before the giant crowd caught up at the parking lots thing than a Fuck You, Triple H thing.

Judging from my own hearing, and don't you dare doubt me even though I have failed a hearing test back in high school, I believe the biggest pops went to Undertaker, Shawn Michaels, Austin, Ric Flair, Triple H aaand... Jeff Hardy? Sounds about right, I think. Biggest heat went to Cena. Seriously! That guy got an incredible amount of boos that night! Well, he probably got the 2nd loudest boos of the night. Biggest heat also went to Chris Jericho, Randy Orton, JBL, Edge, and CM Punk after he picked up the win.

I couldn't for the life of me find my ride after being left stranded at the Stadium, so I had to take an hour-long ride back to the hotel with a bunch of Make-A-Wish kids. It was cute, but, Christ, those kids could TALK. They seemed to not notice that the bus was moving at a snail's pace due to the heavily congested traffic, but instead thought that the Reliant Stadium stretched out for miles. So adorable. All in all, although lots of people told me that the show was quite lackluster on TV, I've never had more fucking fun in my life. My first ever wrestling event, and it was seriously the coolest show I've ever been witness to.

So yeah, that does it for my WrestleMania Weekend experience NOVEL. Make sure to send me some feedback on this, and maybe some good pictures if you attended the show too~! I'm in the process of uploading all my pictures to a Photobucket account, so I'll get that link out when it's ready. Also check out the
main page for some fantastic TWF goodness! I'm Catherine, and I'm out like a white guy at a jumping tournament.

SEND FEEDBACK TO CATHERINE PEREZ
 
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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TWF FLASHBACK

November 2006

SATIRE: DISCONTINUED WWE XMAS PRODUCTS!

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.).