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Marty Party!

Journal Of Bitterness
By Jason Hart
(originally posted in March of 2003)

by "Marty Jannetty"

The Following was originally posted on a message board on WrestlingClassics.com. It was allegedly written former WWF "Rocker" Marty Jannetty. It was taken down after many complaints by readers and because it violated all of their message posting guidelines. The story after being deleted has become somewhat of a legend appearing on only select Wrestling sites including BobFreemanShow.com from which we got the information. Do to the anonymous nature of the Internet it is not known if it was written by the real Marty Jannetty. Please take the story (and the accusations made within) with a grain of salt. The opinions made are the opinion of the original author, and not The Wrestling Fan.

by "Marty Jannetty"

Jannetty Cocktail

If I had a dollar for every wild party we had, I could buy Vince McMahon out. Right off the top of my head, one that comes up immediately, would be the red-eye flight from San Francisco to Dallas. This was back when GHB was legal. I shall repeat that - this was when GHB was legal - they sold it at GNC's. The following story is one of the reasons GHB ain't legal any more.

It's the end of a fifteen day road tour; all the boys (wrestlers) are tired and ready to get home. Everyone, including all the rest of the passengers, planned on sleeping the whole four hour flight. It's loaded with the boys and maybe twenty-five mostly elderly folks. Right before the doors are closed on the plane, in come four loud-ass drunk college kids , raising some hell. It's three guys and one girl. She looks great. So, immediately Shawn Michaels and I are getting ideas. Well, the guys were absolutely obnoxious, screaming "let's party," which is cool with me... but the rest of the plane wasn't thrilled at all. As they strolled down the aisle, one of them recognized Sgt. Slaughter and started yelling "Hey guys, look, its G.I. Joe!" and they all started chanting "GI JOE!". Slaughter was really getting his jaw poking out about it. Then they saw the Bushwhackers, and they started yelling "yeeeeaaaaahhhh!" and "wooooaaaaah!". It was sort of funny to me, but I knew right then and there, "we are gonna have some fun with these kids and a little GHB."

As we took off, an elderly man asked them if they would please hold the noise down, because he was going to try to sleep. The kids turned and hollered, "Hell no, we ain't gonna be quiet, we are gonna party all flight long!". You know, my dick damn near got hard when I heard that, because these boys are gonna be sampling some G and most likely the girl is gonna be sampling me.

So that was what I was thinking, and Shawn was thinking the same. We are in the air, and Shawn and I give the nod to each other. We walk up the aisle and stand next to where these fools are sitting. I take out the G and say to Shawn, "You ready to party?" "Hell yes," he says. So we get our little glasses of water and mix a scoop in and swallow it down. And it's on! For those of you unfamiliar with GHB, what you do is mix a scoop (equal to a teaspoon) of it with water (now they have liquid form, and it's illegal - so you know I ain't messin' with it) and drink it, and in about 15 minutes you feel like you are 20 beers in, and sort of acid tripping (how would I know that?). So, these fine young kids are watching with curiosity, and one says, "Hey, what is that ya'll are doing?". I reply , "Well, this is some stuff for big time partiers. What do you guys know about that?" The guy tells me, "Hell, we are from the fraternity - we do it all! We can out-party any one." So I say, "Oh really, so you think you want to try this stuff?" He replies, "Hell, yeah, I said we're from the fraternity! We do it all!". So I said, "Alright, give me your glasses and I will fix you guys up."

Shawn opens the bottle and we drop in one scoop... two scoops... three scoops... per glass. Except for the girl, she only got one and a half. The stuff will drop you into a coma if you take too much, but with just the right amount, these boys are gonna go nite-nite. About 10 minutes go by, and the first guy says to me, "Hey, I don't feel nothin'! You guys are pussies! I told you we could out-party anyone!" Well, before he could finish his next sentence, he stops and says, "Oh... oh... I think I am starting to feel something." Well, all the boys know the game plan and are alerting each other to get ready. One of the kids gets up and says, "Damn, I can't hardly stand up," and another gets up and runs to the bathroom, leaving me with one guy and the girl. Well, this guys starts slurring so bad, I knew he was about to go down. I told him my name was Steve Lombardi. We are talking and he turns and says something to the girl, and he gets no reply. He then turns on the overhead light, and... there she is, leaning against the window wall, throw-up running down the side of the wall. She is out. He jumps up and tries to go the bathroom, and is falling down everywhere, hollering "Oh, this ain't good!".

Well, one of the Hebner brothers was the first to attack. The girl was big titted and wearing a shirt with straps holding it on. Hebner takes the scissors and cuts the straps. Bam, her big tits fall right out. Now all the boys are coming around. Sgt. Slaughter, who is sitting right in the seats in front of her, turns and sees this. He smiles big, and decides to distract the stewardess' attention by going and asking for things. Next, the Ultimate Warrior comes back from first class and asks, "Where is she?". As the boys are taking turns with the scissors snipping at her long beautiful hair, Warrior start twisting hard as hell on her nipples. She starts to wake up, and looks down at her tits, and tries to cover them up, but stops... looks... and... throws up right on both tits. Mounds of throw-up is all you could now see. Her hair is steadily being cut. Well, about this time, here comes tall boy from the bathroom with some napkins for her... but he looks and sees this mess. She has throw-up all over the plane, her seat, her boobs, and she now looks like Sinéad O'Connor. She's practically bald; just bits and pieces of hair left on her head. Tall Boy turns to find his buddy, whose birthday it was (which was why they were celebrating), and starts screaming, "Where are you, Mark?" (I can't remember his name so we'll use Mark for this story).

Well, in the back of the plane we can see Warrior, and we hear a small buzzing sound, like electric hair cutters, and the bathroom door is open, with a pair of feet hanging out from inside. Warrior has a smooth back-and-forth arm motion going with this buzzing sound. We all head back to see this. Warrior leaves, giggling his ass off. Well, we look in the bathroom and the birthday boy is sitting on the toilet, passed out, pants down, throw-up all in his underwear... and he is now sporting a Road Warrior Hawk type hairdo. Tall Boy runs over, looks in and starts screaming, "Oh SHIT, this ain't good!" We are all just laughing, and we noticed the buzzing sound was going again - we look back up the aisle and Warrior is at it again. So we keep Tall Boy busy while Warrior is working. Finally, it's time to go see.

We follow Tall Boy as he is looking for the other guy... who has passed out across three seats and is laying face down, with his head resting on arms. Tall Boy turns the overhead light on, and he hollers, "Oh my God, not you too!". We look down at the other guy, now waking up, and he only has hair where his arm was blocking it in front. It looked like a reverse Boris Zukoff haircut, with a horn coming out from the front of his head. Well, as you may imagine, the steward and stewardesses come back to find clothes, hair, and throw-up all over the plane. And Tall Boy is telling the steward that Steve (me) will tell them everything, because I was "on their side." The steward was pissed and said he knew Warrior was a part of it, and wanted more names. I told him that I had plenty of witnesses that they did it to themselves, and that they were drunk and loud and obnoxious, and that the stewardesses served them alcohol, knowing that they had too much already. The guy says to me, "Okay, I won't say anything about knowing Warrior was back here if you guys don't tell police we served them." Police? Yes, he said they had to call and report this because it would take a special clean up crew for the mess.

This is a long story, so let me just say that it ended like this. When we landed, the old folks on the plane were high-fiving the boys. saying it was the best flight they'd ever had. "Macho Man" Randy Savage had been the only of the boys who actually stayed up in first class and slept the flight, but when he woke up, he heard all the news and he was determined to see this sight. As the plane was unloading passengers, everyone waited to see these kids come out, and formed a big horseshoe-shaped line in front of the door at Dallas airport. Others walking by got curious as to what was going on, and they wanted to see too, so the crowd was growing. All I kept hearing was Macho Man sayin, in that voice of his, "Ooooh yeah, I gotta see this." The police went in with wheelchairs and started bringing the college partiers out one at a time... in wheelchairs, as they were still unable to walk, and they were handcuffed too. Each one that came out, the crowd went absolutely crazy with laughter and cheers - and the Macho Man hollering his best "Ooooh yeahs!". The girl was so pretty at the beginning of this flight but was now bald, face crinkling from sickness and stinky from throw-up. She was a horrible sight.

Well, that is just one of the "millions and millions" of crazy, wild stories from my partying experiences. Maybe next time I can give you a shorter story. Believe me, I left a lot of funny stuff out because this was such a long story to type.


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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.).