Monday, November 27, 2006

Goofus and Gallant and Wrestling

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The Wrestling Professor Gets Swerved?


I try to tie one hand behind my back... with one hand tied behind my back.

The Power of Morphoplex: Part 2

[To refresh your memory, I took a look at the first part of this article on a previous edition of The Swerved: Special Edition. When TNA Impact! started out on Spike TV, they were sponsored by a little company known as Morphoplex. They sold such things as dietary supplements, self-esteem, and rainbows. Unfortunately, they are not affiliated with Total Non-stop Action anymore, but sometimes, in the middle of the night, when you're very quiet... you can hear the distant sound of fat burning in the moonlight. That, my friends, is Morphoplex through and through.]

Morphoplex rules. Merry Christmas.

The above introduction is basically all you need. Why say anything more?

Nevertheless, I will provide even more reasons why TNA has the best sponsor in the history of time. WWE is no match for the Total Non-Stop Actionosity of Morphoplex: Ultimate Fat Burner. Surely, Wrestlemania has it's own sponsor, but it tries and fails to match Morphoplex's power. Snickers Cruncher, WWE says? What's that supposed to do? If snickers mean laughter and cruncher means one who crunches, that means that WWE wants to "crunch laughter". The WWE wants to rid the world of comedy? Well I never.

[I don't understand why Snickers gets to sponsor Wrestlemania all the time. Snickers is not even that dynamic of a candy bar. I can make homemade Snickers by melting a block of chocolate and throwing a cannister of Planters peanuts in there. One time, I accidentally put some Honey Roasted in the batch. It was still better than Snickers. If you really want to know my feelings on chocolate products in general, I don't hate candy bars, but I prefer better treats like Twix ice cream... or M & Ms in a salad.]

Therefore, the math equation is:

The World - The Funny = You Get The 'F' Out, WWE

[Put the 'F' back in, get the 'F' back out, put the 'F' back in, and you shake it all about. That's an awesome song. I'm bumping that track in my car.]

Fact 6: Will travel to the moon... just for kicks.

Do you recall the time when Max Moon debuted in the WWF and was supposedly from the moon, but was actually TNA's own Konnan? Also, do you remember when Konnan revealed to the wrestling world that he was actually Lance Bass of *NSYNC? How about him saying that he wanted to go on the moon, and paid the Russians millions of his hard earned dollars to make his dream come true, but he ended up not making the trip when it was revealed that the moon was just a fan of Justin Timberlake? If you don't, Morphoplex does. While it is aiming to make the very same trip, it will not make the same mistake as Konnan. It will don a Justin Timberlake costume if need be.

Like the song goes, "When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, you're eating it the wrong way." Morphoplex was always curious about space travel, as it feels that weightlessness on the moon seems to be just a lazy excuse for obese people to stop eating Subway sandwiches three times a day. Jared didn't try to do that and he's fine. He didn't need to go to the moon to feel better about himself.

[As far as Jared Fogle from the Subway commercials is concerned, I can hold a big ass pair of pants too, and I don't even do commercials. Of course, I don't own big pants, but I sure can hold them. I feel bad for those who ate Subway all day in a misguided attempt to lose weight. Do you know how much it costs for a six-inch sub with one slice of ham at Subway? Your first born. Your first born times three meals per day equals a lot of first born children.]

When the task is complete, Morphoplex will be the first supplement in space. It will take the American flag that oddly flaps in the moon's winds and replace it with a banner of TNA. On a very silent night, you will hear Martians in space chanting "T-N-A" or "shiny shirt". Keep your ears up to the sky for that.

Fact 7: Can impregnate every female wrestler/valet in the industry (plus one guy).

Morphoplex has no reproductive organs, but that's no reason for it to quit trying to make babies. By creating a set of organs with the assistance of duct tape, Play-Doh, and pipe cleaners, Morphoplex will be able to "get it on". It's an accomplishment in itself for a bottle of weight loss pills to "do the deed", but were you aware that Morphoplex's seed is so potent, that the women of wrestling that it "threads the needle" with won't be the only ones that will be with child? Even other lovely ladies, both overseas and in independent wrestling organizations, will inadvertently house Morphoplex, Jrs. It's true-- Morphoplex's swimmers have passports and have the ability to impregnate women in other continents.

[An individual who shall remain nameless pointed out to me that Morphoplex does not impregnate women. I was so relieved because I used to store my Morphoplex pills inside of female birth canals.]

Yet, it does not stop there. Morphoplex is strong enough to knock up males too. How does that work? Oh... I don't know... how about... magic, bitch?! Moreover, Morphoplex is a genetic jackhammer the likes that we have never seen. Can Vince McMahon be that great? Well, he did help produce two children, but he's a human with a functional organ. Morphoplex doesn't even have a set of Simon & Garfunkels.

Unfortunately, Morphoplex can only impregnate one lucky man, but who is it? TNA is no stranger to this fellow. I know that for sure.

Surprisingly, Morphoplex will mate with Dusty Rhodes. He will be pregnant, or may have already been pregnant, for approximately 121 months. Congratulations to the both of them.

[I'm a fan of Dusty Rhodes because he reminds me of an inebriated uncle at a petting zoo. Get your mind around that.]

Fact 8: Makes Raven's angst disappear through baking.

What about him? What about Raven? Well, he has a secret. It is the key to his depression and grim state of mind. Morphoplex may not be an expert in human emotion, but it knows food. After all, food is Morphoplex's enemy.

So, what about him? What about Raven? Well, Raven loves one thing and one thing only...

Bundt. Cake.

[Bundt cake is pretty tempting to me as well. I compare Bundt cake to a girl I knew in high school who was fairly good looking. She took a liking to me because I had the one thing no other guy in school had -- a time portal. Her infatuation ceased when she found out the farthest I could go back was only 1979.]

Truly, Morphoplex can make a Bundt cake so tasty (and healthy) that it could change a human's outlook on life. How do I know this is to be true? Morphoplex made me a cinnamon bun once... and now I'm somehow Jewish.

[Yeah, my real name is Stephen Goldstein. Quit all that narrischkeit, you schlub.]

I'm sure there are doubters towards these weight loss pills' skills. You'd think that Morphoplex would have to bake a pretty good Bundt cake to get Raven's seal of approval. IT CAN. To say anything more would be a disservice to its talent.

Do you know why Raven knows all those complicated words and phrases that play a significant part in his promos? In actuality, Raven believes that dictionaries
are the only thing that carry the same consistency and density as the perfect Bundt cake, so he eats them out of spite and naturally learns about language. Although, that's partly why he has so much anger. "Raven ate a Webster's! That's not meant for digestion! I DON'T HAVE AN INSIDE VOICE!" Mike Tenay would say.

[I mention Mike Tenay too much, but it's out of love. Hearing him commentate is like watching a fawn try to stay upright. "You can do it. You're almost there. Whoa, that's too upright. Alright, I get it. Enough already."]

Just watch. One day, you'll see the sloppy, old Raven spewing phrases about dark issues like death and arts & crafts. The next day, he'll be eating Bundt cake as a new man. "Quote the Raven. I'd like some more."

How haunting.

Fact 9: Signed Vince McMahon to a 20-year deal, just so it could be entertained by him competing in the X-Division.

Vince McMahon might be the best thing to happen in the wrestling business, but with the snap of Morhoplex's non-existent fingers, he can be so much more.

In the biggest signing ever, Morphoplex will convince Vince McMahon to leave the company he built from his bare ass (w/ tricks) and sign with the hottest wrestling organization in this hemisphere. What will become of his beloved WWE? Triple H and Triple Steph will take over, and everything will be right in the world. "Let's bring in the Geico lizard and put him over Shelton Benjamin." Why, that's the bee's knees, good sir and ma'am.

The "twisting-Jamaican-double-flip-senton-frontsault-into-your-mom's-house '06" will become the finishing move of the ages. Five years from the now, in the very distant future, Vincent Kennedy McMahon will be remembered for inventing the aforementioned maneuver. Although, they won't name it after him. Why? Isn't it obvious that only Vince McMahon could create such an amazing move? That's what I thought.

[In my fake backyard wrestling league called the WWW (World Wrestling World), I invented moves from different locations of the world. I had the Serbian and Montenegron Sidekick, the Norwegian Suplex, and the U.S.S.Armbar. I just invented the last one a few minutes ago when I was looking at an old map. I'm great.]

McMahon will end up a TNA legend. I can see it now in my crystal ball. During Ultimate X #85, Vince McMahon will walk along the cables like a tightrope walker, then grab the large red "X". The only difference is that he won't unhook it. Instead, he'll trademark that very letter and nobody will be able to use it ever again. Next, everyone will cheer and hand him their wallets and only children, just because he's so damn wonderful.

Anyway, I feel really bad about Vince McMahon holding claim to the letter X. I'm sorry that you will cease to exist, adult themed film. I regret to inform you that YYY will take your place in the movie rating system.

[There's something perverted about the letter Y I can't put my finger on... probably because I'd get a disease if I tried to put my finger there. If you think about it, the letter Y looks like an upside-down woman spreading her legs. Why is she doing that? Because she's stretching. That's friggin' disgusting.]

Fact 10: Morphoplex. Will. Not. Die.

We all know the never-ending saga of fans accusing Lita of being the Mary-Poppins-handbag of professional wrestling ("Who or what else do you have 'in there', Lita? So, there was of course Matt Hardy... and Edge... and... let me see here. What the hell? A lampshade? That's just gross, Amy.") The difference between a Morphoplex and a Matt Hardy is fairly simple. Matt Hardy moves backwards in life, but Morphoplex moves forward. Edge moves diagonally and I have no idea why. I'm guessing he's itchy.

[Weird RAW recollection coming at you. When Matt Hardy told Edge that he hoped he would die in a car crash, I didn't know what to think. If he only hoped Edge would die in a car crash, would Matt be disappointed if Edge didn't die that way? Now that I think of it, that's not a satisfying threat at all.

You see, I can hope to own a unicorn, but I would be simply expressing my desire to have one. I wouldn't expect to receive a unicorn anytime soon, but I'd be entertaining the idea. I bet I could play ring toss on the unicorn's horn and stuff. Good times. So, what Matt should have said to strengthen his character and motivation was the following: "Edge, when you die in a car crash, you will have a Viking funeral, except you will be placed on a slab of wood instead of a boat. There will be no compromise on this. Oh yeah... instead of a river of water, your carcass will float on a river of acid." See, that's mean AND decisive.]

Morphoplex will not die. If TNA cheated on Morphoplex with another fat burning solution, Morphoplex wouldn't go on the internet and post emotional, heartfelt, and angry journal entries on It would suck it up and post emotional, heartfelt, and promotional journal entries:


TNA screwed me. I still love her, but it will be hard to forgive her. On the plus side, I lost ten pounds in one week due to the power of me.

[Deep down, I think I'm not a fan of Mike Tenay; I never realized how much I mentioned him in a negative manner. In another life, I'm sure Mike Tenay went to the bathroom in my cereal or something like that. Though, I guess that's understandable since I was eating "Toilet Duck" cereal at the time.]

-Morphoplex Version 1.0

The Power of Morphoplex Summary:
-Morphoplex will help TNA crush WWE
-Morphoplex is your father
-Morphoplex will love again
-Morphoplex is the Morhoplexiest thing you will ever encounter
-One glorious day, the Lord came down upon the heavens, then said unto his people "Morphoplex". The civilians rejoiced and ran through the dirt streets, spreading the good word to the other villagers. Post haste, they started adding Morphoplex to their drinking water and food supply. They even hung bottles of Morphoplex in their homes to ward off demonic spirits. It worked well for a while, until there was a problem. People were becoming very ill. The elders and small children of the village were as sickly as can be. So, the civilians marched down to the square, pleading to the sky for an answer. "Why have you forsaken us?" they asked. After much prayer, The Lord descended once again. He was then handed a heavenly bottle that contained the source of all that was pure and holy in the natural world. The Lord was astonished. He looked at the label and tasted the contents. "Whoops. These are Tic Tacs," he proclaimed. They responded with a collective, disappointed sigh. (Moral of the Story: Morphoplex is still great. Tic Tacs are harmful to your health...and throw like a girl.)

[I used to write Biblical stories with absurd endings. They would mostly end in the villagers receiving a turkey sandwich or a plunger from the heavens when they asked for lunchy sustenance or an unclogged shower drain. One of my stories involved Moses parting the Red Sea by popping a Mentos. In conclusion, I am a profilic writer who makes million of dollars per piece of literature. I possess a great personality and I am also incredibly attractive in a physical sense to many beautiful women with childbearing hips.]

Monday, November 20, 2006

The Swerved Presents: Dream Match the 6th

Survivor Series Elimination Match
Beavis & Butt-head, Tom Anderson, Daria, and Mr. Van Driessen vs. Edge, Randy Orton, Johnny Nitro, Mike Knox, and Gregory Helms

You give me a roll of TP for my bunghole...

Aw why? Don't know, huh
Survivor Series of Pain
What's that?
Survivor Series (boing yoing yoing)
Randy you know what I'm talking about
Survivor Series of Pain
Oh yeah it's Survivor Series time
Edge looks like Matthew Lillard's love child
But it's just a Painful Survivor Series
Step right up cause I said "butt"

Your love is like a Survivor Series baby, baby
I will survive

The Question
Who wins and how?

Wrestling Chant Inventions

In the year 2000... and a bit, I have noticed the need for a wrestling chant revolution. All the chant entities you hear today are played out and cliché. Therefore, I propose the following chants for your enjoyment and entertainment. Perhaps, wrestling fans may take these catchy phrases with them to live events and make them infinitely famous. I know I am but one man, but with the addition and support of others, I will have enough influence in wrestling to become a massive man who towers over skyscrapers and nearby cities. How will I do this? I'll mostly scotch tape all of us together, then give everyone a bullhorn so we can really be intimidating.

Anyway, here they are:

"Ri-bo-fla-vin, *clap-clap, clap-clap-clap*, Ri-bo-fla-vin, *clap-clap, clap-clap-clap*"

Bran cereals are hardcore. They competed in Extreme Championship Wrestling from 1996 to 1999. All-Bran even stole girlfriend and had a child with your mother... and got away with it. You won't admit it, but it's true. True and sure as sugar.

"Holy piss!"

Why should excrement be the only sacred, human-waste-related object in wrestling? When our God (Kevin Federline) invented Earth, I think he wanted the human race to worship more than one form of bodily cleansing. Therefore, "Number One", also known as urine, should be given priority over "Number Three", which refers to sneezing, and "Number Twenty-Seven", which hasn't been invented yet. If I had to guess, it would either be plasma or nougat.

"Let's get married, *clap-clap, clap-clap-clap*, you're quite enchanting, *clap-clap, clap-clap-clap*"

You know when a scantily clad Diva, or a female wrestler, looks very physically appealing and you can't take your eyes off of her? You know that uncomfortable feeling you get in your enchanted kingdom when there's a very sultry, women's bra and panties bout or pillow fight match on television? Don't those sights just make you want to settle down and start a family? I firmly believe that the integration of catfights into professional wrestling was for the purpose of determining what woman should bare your children. Of course, the winner of the battle would be your most ideal mate since her victory would prove that she is most willing to fight for social status, food, and other necessary supplies. Whatever you do, refrain from choosing the loser for she will be high-maintenance and have the shortest fingernails, therefore making the process of opening cans of various drinks incredibly tiresome.


I've always believed that this is what Goldberg was thinking during his grandiose entrances into the arena. Just as the pyro goes off and he uppercuts the air, he seemed to have a surreal, out-of-body experience which suggested his underlying wishes to live in the ocean. For example, I distinctly recall his first WCW World Title victory over Hollywood Hogan. Right after that win, he poured a jug of water on himself and spread his entire body out on the canvas in the middle of the ring; that was when I realized that part of his anger and aggression came from the fact that he's bald and of Jewish faith. Instead, he probably wanted to exist as a being who sporadically shows up on the shore and best befriends Spongebob Squarepants. When he returns to wrestling, watch his eyes. He wants to be a starfish more than anything in the world. The "Starfishberg" gimmick should debut soon after.

"You f*** cups! You f*** cups!"

Hardly anyone will understand it when it's first introduced, but when disposable and plastic cups are confirmed as masculine by both the French language and the Association of Dudes Who are Strangely Comfortable Showering with Each Other, it will become one of the greatest insults in the industry. Not one wrestler will screw up a move or sequence ever again. I don't blame them beacuse if they do, they will forever be singled out as the guy who has relations with temporary drinking apparatuses that are also males.

"That's-a good-a pizza pie!"

This is a chant not only complimentary to those of the Italian persuasion, but the inventor of pizza too... good ol' Nathaniel Pizza. Sure, you may think the chant is silly now, but you'll be in for a surprise when WWE introduces a wrestler with a Pizza Hut gimmick. His weapon? Those miniature, white tables you get with a large pepperoni. Recently, I hit an enemy of mine with one of those tables. In about five years, he's in for some type of discomfort.

"Lita is a hooooooooooooo(mebody)!"

WWE fans all around this here globe are aware of the fact that Lita enjoys many a "Sky Captain" in her "World of Tomorrow". I was just as amazed as you when I found out that she wasn't the purest of the pure. In fact, when I first heard the news, I said to myself, "Wow, that's amazing. My reaction is one of great amazement." In the professional world of wrestling, I am always shocked and appalled when I gain knowledge of seedy doings within the confines of the business. "This is a gentleman's sport," I say with gusto while I spread fine caviar on my Lunchables snack pack crackers.

Truthfully, I don't want to hear who dabbled with whom in the thorny thicket of pleasure. Wrestling insiders should tell me something useful about a personality instead. For example, just the other day, an unnamed source told me that Lita does not like to go out very much. When it comes down to it, she'd rather stay at home on a Saturday night and read a good book than partake in the excitement of wild weekend parties. She's a homebody and the world has to be aware of the fact; now, that's something to ridicule her about. Forget about that Edge stuff. So, she likes to stay indoors? Jinkies. What an indoor whore.

"(Let's get ready to) cross stitch!"

Those lovable old scamps Triple H and Shawn Michaels collectively reference their crotchal and stomachal areas with swift, chopped, mirrored hand movements in reaction to adversaries they deem as inferior or flawed. If you want to be like D-Generation X and join in on their shenanigans, that's fine, but there are better alternatives out there to show your rebellion. Fans can prove their anti-authoritative nature by taking out their sewing equipment to embroider nasty sayings on neckerchiefs as gifts for hated relatives and friends. In my opinion, the ultimate diss one human being can shell out to another is the gift of well-crafted, foul-mouthed neck garments.

Monday, November 13, 2006

The Swerved Presents: Dream Match the 5th

The answer to last week's Squared Circle of Fortune:

My Name is Finlay and I Love to Fence

WWE's resident Irish guy Finlay loves to fight, but he has a secret obsession: fencing. In lieu of a shillelagh, Finlay is known to hit his opponents in the back of the head with the sharp edge of a rapier. Unfortunately, that means that they do not get up. Furthermore, The Little Bastard is not big enough to use a rapier so he must use those plastic toothpicks in the shape of a sword. Together, they are as unstoppable as a middle-aged guy with a pointy, steel weapon and a vertically challenged leprechaun with colourful floss substitutes can be.


Survivor Series Elimination Match
World Tag Team Champions Ric Flair and "Rowdy" Roddy Piper, Sgt. Slaughter, and "The American Dream" Dusty Rhodes w/ Arn Anderson vs. *NSYNC w/ Justin Timberlake

Bye Bye
Don't wanna have to beat old men
We're cool kids versus lame legends
You may boo us but it ain't no lie
Grandpa, bye, bye, bye...
Bye Bye
Don't really wanna slam them hard
I'd rather help them with their bingo cards
B-I-N-G-Old guy, it ain't no lie,
Grandpa, bye, bye, bye

I'm giving up to the Figure Four
We don't wanna be the cause of their arthritis no more
Bye Bye
I'm tappin' out
I'm layin' back
Not gonna be the victor, we might accidentally kill them

Don't wanna have to give them meds
We'll let them rest in orthopedic beds
We're leavin' them to live
Bye, bye, bye...

The Question:
Who wins and how?

Performance Enchancer

Steroid allegations are running rampant as I speak. Athletes are accusing other athletes of fooling around with syringe mistresses. Wrestlers are accusing other wrestlers of using the juice. Performance enhancing drugs opens a concaved gateway to cheating and lies. I hate each and every individual who uses steroids because they are taking the convenient escalator to success instead of the stairs.

Before crazy rumours surface about Stephen Rivera cheating the system of sport, or Stephen Rivera stripping naked in public before sliding along the World's Largest Crocodile Mile, let me assure the galaxy that I have never taken steroids. In reality, steroids have been given to me. While I have sprinkled some on various vegetarian pizzas, I have not willingly possessed them. You see, one day my friend said, "Hey, try this cereal." In her grasp, she had a bowl of what appeared to be Cheerios, except the cereal bits were solid, white, and round. Without hesitation, she put a spoon to my mouth and fed me. I thought it was tasty, but I did not enjoy it. That is not voluntary.

I don't know why wrestlers feel the need to take performance enhancing drugs, creams, and lotions. It won't get them farther up the card; it won't put them above other performers in appearance. Just because somebody is three thousand or so pounds of musclish tone does not mean he is worthy to be champion. Many people claim that Vince McMahon is a hypocrite because he uses steroids, yet is critical of others who do the same. While that is all well and good in Happy Time Land, Vince McMahon doesn't count. You think the chairman of WWE needs to better himself synthetically? All he does is hire people who work out his body parts for him while he sits there Vince McMahoning. How ignorant of you to think otherwise.

As far as I know, sports entertainers can easily achieve a ripped appearance just by working out their triceps and forceps and eating old WWF ice cream bars (the toughness of the expired bars strengthens jaw and face muscles via consistent chewing). Take a look at a guy like Brian Kendrick and you'll see that he chooses not to obey my directions. Kenrick is a gigantic mastodon of power, his physique made possible by the discoveries of modern science. While I'm sure casual fans believe Spanky is the bee's knees, in my world, bees don't have knees. Instead, they have contempt for people who use steroids.

Although I am confident I will never test positive for any banned substances ever, I defend any accusations with the following reasons:

Fact 1: I had a fever, and the only prescription was more steroids.

Fact 2: I married into a family who were half Spanish, half steroids.

Fact 3: During the Y2K scare, news reports suggested to stock up on water and canned goods in case of a drastic emergency. I foresaw even greater adversity, so I gathered a team of scientists to create a combatant force to save the world. Surprisingly, they created the super steroid: a steroid pill the size of Antarctica. With this substance implanted into my system, I planned to punch UFOs out of the atmosphere if aliens ever tried to conquer earth, but luckily I never had to use my ability.

Fact 4: I won a small town raffle. I did not know the first prize was steroids. I wanted to win the second prize, which was a heart-shaped throw pillow with Ahmed Johnson's face on it. Man, that would have been sweet.

Fact 5: I stood next to a bodybuilder in an elevator once. He coughed, then I breathed in his cough. Now I test positive for a lot of things.

Fact 6: I was playing rock, paper, scissors. I drew rock; my opponent drew steroids. Steroids cover rock.

Fact 7: I went to church and instead of a wafer of bread, the priest gave me a wafer of steroids. Holy crap.

Fact 8: I watched Test wrestled once. Involuntarily, my eyes took steroids.

Fact 9: During the 2006 Diva Search, I tried to vote for the lovely JT Tinney because I thought that since she had several children, she would be the perfect candidate to be on the road for over 300 days of the year while wearing very little clothing for 299 days of the year. The Miz told me to text in my diva for the number to win 2.5 dollars every other week, but I accidentally pressed the wrong key on the number pad of my state-of-the-art, blocky, grey cell phone. What number did I press? The "Take Steroids Now" button.

Fact 10: I tried to order Cyber Sunday on my cable box, but my remote control was malfunctioning. While I did end up watching the event, it was billed to me thrice. When I received my cable bill, it was made of 50% recycled paper and 50% steroids. I don't have a waste container, or a garbage disposal, so I voted unanimously to eat the bill.

Fact 11: I thought the video game I was playing was called Asteroids.

Fact 12: My dog ate the urine sample I was supposed to submit. Yes, I know liquid can only be drank, but my dog freezed it first. Can I get an extension?

Fact 13: My body naturally produces pills and syringes filled with steroids. When I hold in a sneeze, I accidentally ingest and inject said steroids. Whose fault is that? The concept of the human body's.

Fact 14: I'm holding these steroids in my body for a friend. He should be back from my washroom, with the large window, overlooking the Mexican border, in the vicinity of an international airport, in a few minutes.

Fact 15: I was watching a movie in 3-D. There was in a scene in which a guy who looked a lot like me took a bunch of steroids and threw them at the audience. One of them probably went in my mouth, but I had my eyes closed at the time... and I have no feeling in my mouth.

Fact 16: I didn't have any grey poupon.

Fact 17: Mine ears doth hear a twitter? You say I have consumed a drug of the performance enhancing kind, old chap? Sorry, I do not speak English.

Fact 18: In France, they called it Le Steroid. I don't speak French either. Bonsoir.

Fact 19: "Big Poppa Pump" Scott Steiner is alive on this planet, just like me. In our lifetimes up until this point, I must have touched a penny somewhere that he has also touched.

Fact 20: How can you say I took steroids when I'm just about to take them now? Oh, burn. I so showed you.

Monday, November 06, 2006

Squared Circle of Fortune: I Rish

The answer to last week's puzzle:

Triple H likes Crest

It is widely known in the internet "dirt sheets" (pieces of paper that hold the secrets of professional wrestling, but also dirt) that Triple H uses Crest products to keep his pearly whites pearly and white. Four out of five dentists agree that Hunter loves Crest toothpaste; they are also aware of his inconceivable hatred for Colgate.


Can you solve this week's puzzlezation?

Entrance Theme Interpretations / The Obscure Joys of Pro Wrestling #1

Once again, if you have an article of mine that you want covered in an upcoming edition of The Swerved, feel free to comment on this column, or send over an e-mail. Thanks.



Almost-Article 1: Entrance Theme Interpretations

[According to my watch that goes backwards, I began to write this in August 2005. This was intended to be a series, as I planned to interpret a few themes each edition. TNA's Michael Shane/Matt Bentley/Maverick Matt/Not Shawn Michaels was not supposed to be my first interpretation, but here it is anyway.

In the future, I may use the idea for actual articles, but until the world of wrestling stops putting out those mean, squiggly guitar riffs, those articles will probably have to look like this:

Theme Song: The Miz
Singer: Guitar
Genre: Guitar

Squeeeeeeeeuw (Squeeeeeuw)
Bah-nah-bah-nuh (Bah-nah-bah-NAH)]

I have recently started to watch TNA and while the wrestling is quite solid and entertaining, I am particularly interested with the company's choice of entrance music for their roster. I do believe that most sound generic, but there are a few masterpieces contained within that must be spoken for. What's so intriguing about these songs is that they are both simplistic and elaborate at the same time. They're almost like a puzzle you have to piece together in your mind.

Today, I provide my interpretation of some Total Nonstop Action wrestling themes. If you wish to listen these and other works, visit the official TNA website. If that cannot be done, have a friend or loved one sing them to you... into your ear... ever so softly.

Note: These may not contain the actual lyrics.

Theme Song: Matt Bentley
Singer: Angry Guy Eating Marbles
Genre: Alternative-Rock

Opening Music Sequence
1)Record spinning
2) Rock guitar
3) Rock guitar pause
4) More rock guitar

Come on, get hot
(Let's proceed, have some hot chocolate.)
Jack's a Jill, it's no lie
(This man has female genitalia; I'm being serious here.)
They give me die
(I have received two dice.)
(I am like a bat.)
Heal me soul
(Provide me fruitful nutrients in my deep, dark batcave.)
Come on
(We should continue.)

Hi hey
(Hello, how do you do?/Hey, how's it going?)
For me
(I would like the following to be pointed in my direction...)
More cheese
(Cheddar or mozarella to the previously mentioned destination, please.)

(Rock guitar)

Come on
(If you aren't in agreement with me now, I don't know what to say to you.)
Get high
(You may or may not have a marijuana cigarette, but I don't condone it either way.)
Work the lime which I decline
(While I am appreciate that you have given me citrusy sustenance, I must politely set it aside for I am more an orange person.)
It's my time
(I am the owner of a large grandfather clock and you cannot have it.)
Ride the ride
(Enter the transportation apparatus and initiate motion.)
Heal machine
(This device is Wolverine on four wheels.)
Come on
(We are about to move further.)
My tang
(The present of powdered drink mix is the best gift an astronaut can ever give another human being.)
Come on
(Let me reiterate that we are about to move further.)

Hi hey
(Konichiwa/aloha to you and yours.)
(That is perfectly fine.)
For me
(Also, it is acceptable to my standards.)


Almost-Article 2: The Obscure Joys of Pro Wrestling #1

[If you didn't know by the title, this was also supposed to be the first in a series. When I was a columnist for The Armpit, I didn't exactly plan what I was going to write about. When I write (anything really), I find that it's better to wait until ideas spontaneously pop up, rather than force my way through. If I had tried to force my ideas, my columns would have been half letters and half numbers, with scribblings of stick people in between.

I had and still have no clear agenda with my articles. I guess that is a good thing, looking back on my all of my work. If any readers out there have migrated to this blog from Armpit Wrestling, I'm curious to know what articles of mine, were your favourite. During my just-over-a-year tenure there, I recieved about twenty e-mails in total from readers, so trust me when I say that I would find the responses most interesting.

Anyway, the article's title says it all. There are no unanswered questions... unlike Full House. Did Michelle ever recover from that horse-riding accident or what? Somebody needs to tell me. Suckas gots ta know.]

Joy 1: The Dude Love Entrance Theme and Video

Ooh. Hah, hah, hah. Duuuuuuude love (dude love baby). Duuuuuuuude love. Duuuuuuuuude love. Dahuuuuuude luuuuuuh-uh-uv. I can't remember how many times I grooved to this song. Probably 17. Look at him tap his feet. Look at him with his crazy legs. He is the epitome of greatness. My heros are as follows: God, Dude Love, and Dude Love taking off then putting on his sunglasses with glee.

Joy 2: Ken Shamrock Being Insane

It was amusing to me that he screamed a lot, with even greater effect when he applied the ankle lock. I bet back then, if someone gave him an ice cream cone on-camera, he'd scream at that too. "AHHHHHHHH! VANILLA!" he'd say as officials try to pry him off from the cone.

By the by, at 'In Your House 34: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ken', Ice Cream Cone versus Ken Shamrock resulted in a DCOR.

Joy 3: Hunter Hearst Helmsley Has Equestrian Tights

Triple H wasn't always a guy who wasted bottled water in his entrance. In the long, long ago, he had those tights with a different coloured patch in the middle. I thought that was unique, plus his music was tingy and marvelous. I dare any readers out there to make a sign that says, "HHH is a horserider". Nobody will get it, but you will have earned my hand in marriage. Will it be worth it? Totally.

Joy 4: Ahmed Johnson Looks Like A Chocolate, Marble Counter

I never thought Ahmed looked real to me. Growing up, he had a uncanny sheen that did not appear human. Have you ever been abducted by aliens? Of course, a lot of people have, but were the aliens shiny? Yeah, well, that's Ahmed to me.

Joy 5: Vince McMahon sounds like Jerry Seinfeld at Summerslam 1992

Vince McMahon sounds like Jerry Seinfeld at Summerslam 1992. What's the deal with airline food, peanuts, hot and cold showers, the French, soup, sandwiches, and WHATAMANEUVER?

Joy 6: "Macho Man" Randy Savage sounds like Chris Farley in his promo for Wrestlemania 3

Ooh yeah... van down by the river Ricky Steamboat. I watched an old video of Randy Savage with a floppy hat and suspenders. On the tape, he spoke like a scared old guy going through reverse puberty -- a process in which your voice changes from low back to high. Why am I saying this? I'll never be able to bring up my theory of reverse puberty in conversation ever again. Let me have my day in the sun.

Joy 7: Chavo Guerrero, Jr.'s Entrance Music Remix in WCW

This was the last one Chavo used, which was originally Eddie's entrance theme (this time with additions to it). One of the things that brings me great sadness is that I don't have this song in my possession. I will get it though. Mark my words. If my name isn't Kerwin White, I will damn it.

Joy 8: The nWo B-Team Theme

This was a song that didn't suggest so much a pimpy takeover of a wrestling company, but more like a lazy Sunday afternoon riding on a children's motorycle.

It was more upbeat, but it still had those great nWo voices still in there: D-D-D-D-D-Do you want fries with that? It was pretty unremarkable compared to the official nWo A-Team song, but it was good times. I remember Buff Bagwell and Vincent used to use this one a lot. I was a big fan of the Vincent gimmick -- him being a guy named Vincent. Don't tell me he wasn't popular as all you need to do is count how many times he main evented WCW WorldWide. I've been told he charges money for autographs now at conventions. That's a shame since I actually pay people to take my autograph. I need to get in on that.