Where in the World is World Wrestling Entertainment?

Where in the World is Santino Marella?

*****

NEXT WEEK

I do The Mash. Perchance I do The Monster Mash.

AND

An apple falls far from the tree. This is going to upset a lot of apple fans and tree fans.

My Cyber Sunday

This Sunday will be the most interactive day in the history of me. I am leaving this day up to you, the fans of The Swerved. You will determine my actions and decisions. I am tired of being an independent person. I will need your assistance, much like an elder needs a orderly to chew his potato chips for him. In no way will I sway your vote, but please vote for the first choice of each question. This is interactive. This is what we do when we cyber. I do not know what your teachers taught you in school, but when you cyber, you make a difference. I have counted about eight differences that you will make for yourself. Good work, Broseph.

WWE Cyber Sunday pales in comparison to My Cyber Sunday. WWE Cyber Sunday is the red-headed stepchild to My Cyber Sunday's strawberry beauty. You can take your online voting and shove it offline, World Wrestling Entertainment. Why should the public decide the nature of one measly Pay-Per-View when they can control a human for not only one day, but possibly the remainder of time as well?

Let the voting commence.


What company should sponsor My Cyber Sunday?

1)World Wrestling Entertainment
2) Total Nonstop Action
3) Ring of Honor
4) Milton Bradley's Karate Fighters
Wouldn't you like to see WWE sponsor this epic event? How about TNA? What about some ROH action? Should My Cyber Sunday be sponsored by a product and company that also sponsored the infamous WWF Survivor Series of 1997? There will be no screws nor jobs at this event. What will be present? Just a whole lot of voting. You decide.


What toothpaste should I use this Sunday?

1) Colgate
2) Aquafresh
3) Sensodyne
4) Lingerie Pillow Fight
What would it be like to see me use Colgate in the morning? How about Aquafresh? I have sensitive teeth, so will Sensodyne do the trick? When I need my whites to be the whitest, will a bunch of buxom girls play-fighting in their underwear do? I do not know how to tie my own shoelace, let alone choose a brand of toothpaste to use. Vote now. It's up to you.


What should I have for breakfast this Sunday?

1) Bacon and Eggs
2) Pancakes
3) Waffles
4) Steel Cage Match
I like edible things that come out of pigs and chickens. I like Aunt Jemima watching me eat. I don't like to let go of my Eggo. I don't think a chainlink fence is digestable, but I will try. So, what is it going to be? You have the power. Me want food.


What movie, by WWE Films, should I watch this Sunday?

1) See No Evil
2) The Marine
3) The Condemned
4) Gong Daddy Gong: The Adventures of Big Daddy V Banging A Gong
Is Jacob Goodnight good enough for this Sunday night? Is Sunday the day that John Triton rescues his wife? Is Jack Conrad Jack Conbad-to-the-Bone? Big Daddy V has a movie out and he doesn't even know it yet. WWE Films create nothing but masterpieces. Which masterpiece do you want me to view?


What should I do this late Sunday night?

1) Stay home
2) Party
3) Go to a bar/club
4) Lead pipe
Should I wear my "The Con Man" Rob Conway pajamas and become a homebody for the evening? Do you think Sunday is a night that's all right for partaying? Should I end the week on the dance floor with a shiny shirt on my body? On the other hand, lead pipe anyone? There are many activities to do on this great night. Please make the call now.


Who should I call to be my wingman on this hot and sultry Sunday city midnight?

1) Steve Austin
2) Mick Foley
3) JBL
4) Always (with wings)
We all know Steve Austin is a ladies' man; he is a gentleman who is always gentle with his women. Mick Foley was able to snatch Collette, a woman not afraid to wear an American flag tracksuit to one-up Sandman. Shaw "Bradjohn" Fieldlay is a man with a limo and a cowboy hat that he purchased with money. Women love money, but they also love to keep their lady business in check. What is a man without a wingman to do? This is your chance to decide the fate of the entire world almost.


What is My Cyber Sunday all about?

1) Vince McMahon getting to put Eric Bischoff in a dress.
2) Vince McMahon letting Eric Bischoff be attacked by an elderly woman's hoo-hah.
3) Vince McMahon putting Eric Bischoff in a back of a garbage truck full of eldery woman's hoo-has while Eric wears a dress.
4) Kevin Federline.
My Cyber Sunday has one goal and one goal only--to have many goals. In case you are not aware, I have acquired the assistance of one Vincent Kennedy McMahon to help me pull off this prestigious event. Vince would like this Sunday to have a concept, but what concept will it be? Should we embarrass Eric Bischoff, just as Vince prefers? Should we embarrass Eric Bischoff, just as Vince prefers? Should we embarrass Erich Bishoff, just as Vince prefers? Kevin Federline? There is a pattern here, but it's your choice to make.


What do I think of the name Cyber Sunday?

1) lol
2) lmao
3 wtf
4) Picture of a cat with accompanied text that relates to what the cat is doing in the picture. He is hasing cheezburger dis thymez.
I no brain not have. Me not of reaction any. Make response for I now. Oh, look. That stage is a computer and the aisle is a keyboard, dude. Shawn Michaels is praying at QWERTY. He's about to upload an attack of a violent nature. Gnarly. This is much more cybertastic than a Monday. I'll tell you that right now.

The Swerved Presents: Dream Match the 28th

Dakota Fanning w/ Tom Cruise vs. Rey Mysterio II
What you gonna say when she comes your way?
The oldest young person you will ever see
What you gonna say when she comes your way?

Dakota, Dakota, Surname Fanning (Hey)
Dakota, Dakota, that's her name-o
Dakota, Dakota, Surname Fanning (Hey)
Dakota, Dakota, transported by Tom Cruise

It's the return of Dakota Fanning
Her last name rhymes with Carol Channing's
She's getting all tangled up in Charlotte's Web
Protecting Wilbur from a crispy bacon death

Can Rey Rey fight back or even attack
Her eloquent speeches while she's sipping Cognac?
She sits by the fire, he tries to outfly her
Is he gonna fray her Sunday church attire?

This feud is getting pretty ridiculous
But it's entertaining for the audience
Dominic likes it too, yeah he better like it
Big smile on his face
So Rey better beat that little girl
In a potato sack race

Last match was a time limit draw
This calls for another cruiserweight war
Maybe Rey will Drop the Dime on the lady
The Cat in the Hat was bad, but this payback is crazy

Dakota, Dakota, Surname Fanning (Hey)
Dakota, Dakota, that's her name-o
Dakota, Dakota, Surname Fanning (Hey)
Dakota, Dakota, transported by Tom Cruise

The Question:
Who wins and how?

*****

NEXT WEEK

Biscuits.

AND

Graaaaaaaaavvvvyyyyyy.

2 Wrestling 2 Confessions

I have something to tell you, Reader of Words and Sentences--I am ashamed to be a wrestling fan. A cameraman is standing right next to me as I am typing out this secret to you, but do not tell a soul. Surely, you may believe that I have no shame for I appear to be a confident and independent being, but you believe lies. You see, professional wrestling is the hideous article of clothing in my closet that I do not want to take out and put on my person. When I integrate wrestling into the outside world, the world spits it right back at me, and back into the closet it goes. The skeptics laugh and point at the superstars of wrestling. They mock their attire, their long greasy locks, and their uncanny ability to appear smelly over the television somehow. Since they do not care for the entertainment sport, they do not care for me. I am sick of their judgmental eyes, judging me as if each of their eyes were respective judges. Yes, I analyze and follow wrestling, but that is not a crime; I am no criminal. Just because wrestling steals my heart does not mean I steal things in life. Leave me alone, Earth. Leave me be. I deserve this cake. I deserve to have the ends and the middle at this metaphorical co-worker's birthday party.

This harsh world has left my insides to suffer and perish. My conscience is filled with secrets to the brim. Where am I to unleash these underlying thoughts and truths? Should I take it to a friend, who will understand completely yet play Halo 3 on my X-Box for 5 straight hours afterward, assuring me that the next game will be his "last try"? Should I take it to the church, where I will be forgiven, but forced to drink wine and eat bread when I have a craving for coffee and crackers instead? Should I take it directly to the Lord, who will listen though look down on me because he is not willing to get off his Sealy Posturepedic cloud? On fourth thought, I will do the next best thing--I will reveal my wrestling-related secrets on this wrestling-related blog in hopes that negative two people will read it. Many a justice will belong to me.

We are gathered here today to join together writer and reader in holy secret-keeping. With this ring, I thee confess. If there are any objections to this confession, I will Indian Deathlock your teeth.

1) I coined the name Cyber Sunday. WWE used the name to title its Pay-Per-View event where fans could decide matches and match stipulations through online voting. When I told them the name, I intended that it should be utilized to title a event in which somebody has cyber sexual relations with a hot fudge sundae. WWE did not keep their promise.

2) What happened to TNA's "adrenaline rush"? You mean, TNA lets it go at its own pace now? Can I have a second? I have something in my eye: tears.

3) Through inside sources, I know why the heart of ECW covers up his melon with a bandana. Tommy Dreamer's hair is being fired by World Wrestling Entertainment in a gradual fashion; he does not want anyone to know about this fact. By this time next year, he will be bald, yet his pants will be ever the more velour.

4) After watching episodes of TNA Impact several times over in slow, fast, and regular motion, I have come to the conclusion that Pacman Jones' leapfrog is not a leapfrog at all but a veiled and failed attempt to get opponents to give him piggyback rides. Somebody tell him that he's trying to mount others in an incorrect manner. Piggyback? On the back? It's the Backman Jones. Piggybackman Jones.

5) The following truth is top-of-the-pops secret popcorn: I heard that Beth Phoenix is otherwise known as The Glamazon. Bonus hidden truth: The Glamazon is a glamourous version of Amazon.com. This week only, you can save 20% off on all paperback books covered in pink ribbons and perfume.

6) I will never buy Lilian Garcia's new CD entitled ¡Quiero Vivir! An entire album dedicated to Lilian Garcia moaning in pain at the hands of Charlie Haas accidental rope slingshots will be a very poor album.

7) When Chuck Palumbo comes down the aisle, how does his motorcycle move the steel steps up against the barricade and back against the steel ringpost like that? I want a telekinetic motorcycle. No fair, curly hair.

8) Santino Marella and I have a lot in common. For one, I also regret that Santino used to get his jollies from watching Britney Spears. It's "Crossroads" Britney isn't it, Santino? You disgust me.

9) I find it almost impossible to watch Team 3-D matches because they give me migraines. For me, they appear on screen as a blurry mess of various red and blue shades. Until I find my pair of 3-D glasses, I will have to deal with this problem.

10) Mike Knox of ECW stole my gesture. I too have one arm weaker than the other; one arm goes up while the other just hangs there in mid-air. I can only do letter K poses whenever I attempt to pose in the shape of the letter X. Is Mike Knox mocking me?

11) My favourite gimmick bout in 2007 WWE is the Punjabi Prison Match. My mind rests easy with the knowledge that pandas all over the world are watching with envy. Take it and love it like one of your own, Bai Yun of the San Diego Zoo.

12) I am not a fan of the Irish Whip. It is a move that entails one wrestler holding the hand of another before running. It is as if the wrestler is asking his opponent, "Do you want to go on this romantical journey into the fields of ecstacy with me?" Every time the opponent gets whipped into the turnbuckle, I imagine that his answer is yes. Every time that the opponent refuses, I think that he is not ready for that kind of commitment yet.

13) I am so used to the WWE Spinner Championship that I find it difficult to appreciate pictures which feature previous non-spinning incarnations of the title belt. For instance, when I observe an image of the WWF Winged Eagle Belt, I spin my head around to trick my mind into believing that the faceplate is twirling too.

14) I am romantically involved with Bears Mahoney, also known as the stuffed animal that Balls Mahoney gave to Kelly Kelly as a gift. When The Miz punted Bears into the audience, it was the end of its WWE career. Why? To tell you the truth, we both asked for our releases from the company. We would not have been able to see each other while on separate brands (Bears was with ECW, I was with not-ECW.) This relationship will not work if we are kept apart.

15) HBK took my Halloween costume idea-- I too want to be a Texan Crocodile Dundee, especially if a Texan Crocodile Dundee wears knee braces under his jeans like Shawn does.

16) I am the Last Man Standing. How did I do it? I stood within a group of women only.

17) I got in a feud once. Good thing I was able to eat more pizza than that guy.

18) I plan to win the 2008 Royal Rumble. You can only be eliminated if both of your feet touch the ground. I'll saw off my feet by January. I'll be good to go.

19) Jimmy Wang Yang is my buoy. Turn my ship left? Yes-haw.

20) I saw a fisherman use a suplex to catch a fish once. It was not necessary. He splashed around in the water for ten months trying to catch that thing. Is he aware of the concept of bait?

The Swerved Presents: Dream Match the 27th

Son of The Mask vs. Randy Orton

His Dad was beaten just the other day
Randy put the boot to him in the cartoonish way
He saw his Pop's face drop to the ground
Next to the bottom crib rope, where the son was found
He tried to get the mask as Randy tried to get it too
Randy said "SMMMOKIN' is probably bad for you, son.
SMMMOKIN' is probably bad for you."

And there's Orton and the Son and the Loki Mask
There's that little dog as well, I think his name was Max
If Jamie Kennedy appears,
Don't tell me when, 'cause I hate to kick it old school, man
You know I hate to kick it old school
You know I hate to kick it old school

The Question:
Who wins and how?

*****

NEXT WEEK

F-U, pectoral muscle tear.

AND

I recover from Canadian Tanksgiving, a day in which everybody is thankful for army tanks.

Triple H vs. John Cena - Rap Battle

This week, we go back to a Pit article from March of 2006 when we were younger, brighter, and had yesterday hopes and dreams that have been crushed by the obstacles of today. During that period, the feud between one Triple H and one Jonathan Cena was fantastic in more ways than three-and-a-quarter. To the delight of the professional wrestling audience nation, Triple H tapped to Cena's STFU at Wrestlemania 22. Cena would go on to hold the twirling, twirling, twirling gold for most of the days up until now. I will miss Cena as the WWE Champion. My memories of his non-existent rap battle with Triple H will be forever etched in my Etch-A-Sketch brain. I got stairs. I still got stairs. Now I have a face made out of stairs. Alright, there we go. Rap battle. Oh, it's a rap battle on stairs.

Bask in the aged deliciousness, nation. We will speak again very soon.

-Stephen

*****
Triple H is a 10-time world champion, "The King of Kings", and one the greatest wrestlers ever to step foot in a wrestling ring. Yet, has he ever faced someone the likes of John Cena? While Mr. Helmsley may be excellent in his own right, John Cena often wears a hat, so who has the advantage here? Wrestlemania 22 is the grandest stage of them all, and I believe Triple H and John Cena will make the Chicago crowd come alive. It is the feud of the century, somewhat like The Rock vs. Steve Austin, except not.

(If Steve Austin had to face The Rock in a rap battle, he would win one hand down [I am confident about my prediction, but not that confident.] Why do I think Austin will win? According to The Rock, Austin listened and may still listen to The Backstreet Boys, who are the hip hop overlords of our time. That's enough for me.)

These two competitors are matched up fairly well. Triple H has the patended Pedigree, a move which not only violently drives his opponents straight to the mat, but forces them to house their heads in the warm crevice of a grown man's groinal area. John Cena has the FU, a fireman's carry slam worthy of a fireman. Additionally, the STFU is a new submission move of his, recently added to his arsenal of shaking all mad-like and having a belt that spins. How did WWE come up with the name STFU? They included the letter U to the stepover-toehold-facelock name to insinuate a vulgar phrase aimed towards Cena's adversary. This is completely different from my original idea, which involved the U being included for the purpose of proposing the construction of Stepover-Toehold-Facelock University. Now my future kids won't be able to get that kind of education.

(Stepover-Toehold-Facelock University has a wonderful horticulture program, and their tuition fees cannot be beat. As you can tell, I am a big supporter of STFU. I hope their basketball team goes all the way this year. Go Fighting 5-Counts!)

The feud between them should be very exciting. Will they brawl and be pulled apart by WWE officials? Will Triple H continue to speak ill of Cena? Will Cena proceed to stand there and take it? In the immortal words of Hulk Hogan... "Most likely maybe, I assume."

(Has that catchphrase worn out its welcome or what? Dang.)

But, what I do know is that Triple H and John Cena are going to rap. Triple H is from Connecticut; one would think that he would not be proficient in freestyling, but little do you know that Greenwich, Connecticut was originally named "Big Pimpin' USA". I bet John Cena and Randy Savage have tea parties, so that's where his rap skills come from.

Anyway, if I'm positively sure of one thing, that thing is this: on the road to Wrestlemania 22, they... are about... to... kick it.

(Vicky Vale, Vick-a-Vicky Vale. Vicky Vale, Vick-a-Vicky Vale. If I do not become the billionaire writer I want to one day be, I have my rap skills to fall back on. On the streets, they call me MC Electrolyte because I make parties conducive to bumpin'. I should have been the guy to show up on the Heat before Wrestlemania 19, rapping at cardboard cut-outs. I spend my Sundays rapping at cardboard cut-outs... in the park... by myself. This hobby should become a lifestyle.)

Triple H's Keys to Rap Supremacy:
1) Use your microphone as a weapon, cupping your hand over the cover. This will act as your "verbal sledgehammer".
2) Wear suits to prove that you're from the streets.
3) Eat Wendy's.

(4) Don't put too much weight on your quadriceps. It will strain your angelic voice.)

John Cena's Keys to Rap Supremacy:
1) As you rap, continually execute the F-U on the Big Show. You will be cheered.
2) Love it when a plan comes together.
3) Continue to look like the offspring of Kevin Bacon and Matt Damon.

(4) Get your father to drop the beat.)

HHH:
My name is Triple H, there's a Hunter in my first name
Press select, then start if you wanna play with The Game
I'm sure Mr. John Cena will take this privilege
To play with his Nintendo and blow on my cartridge

(As a child, the only Nintendo Entertainment System wrestling game I got to play was called M.U.S.C.L.E., but I'm not particularly proud to admit it. You could punch, jump kick, and fall on your butt. You could be a viking. Gameplay is not what it used to be.)

Cena:
Hunter Hunter bo bunter
Banana fana fo funter
Fe fi mo munter
Hunter

HHH:
Stephanie and I are having a baby
I also planted seeds in Chain Gang ladies
I'm gonna have some sons, I'm gonna have some daughters
They will stroll out the womb, then angrily spit out water

(I think Triple H meant to say that his children would spit out milk, not water. They will not spit out milk to be intimidating; they will simply be raised to be lactose-intolerant. Triple H McMahon and Stephanie McMahon-McMahon are my sworn enemies 4-lyfe.)

Cena:
One, two
Hunter is the greatest wrestler alive today
Three, four
I'm okay, but not compared to HHH
Five, six
Triple H is a ten-time champion, and that makes him the best
Seven, eight
Everything he says to undermine my character has validity
Nine, ten
Hopefully if I'm luckily, I will pull out an upset victory

HHH:
It's all about control, and if you can take it
It's all about my beard, and if Cena can face it
He can't be a man like the one Levesque
If he wants to hang with me, he better grow some big breasts

(Triple H has been with Chyna, who has implants, and Stephanie McMahon, who has implants. If he is coaxing women to increase their chest size to that of his own chest, he has an crippling ego problem. Triple H is a B cup if I ever saw one.)

Cena:
Sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows
Everything that's wonderful when I pump my shoes up
Brighter than a lucky penny
When Hunter is near the rain goes, disappears, and I feel fine
Just to know that he's mine

(Cena used to pump his shoes up before executing the Five Knuckle Shuffle. I do not understand why he did so because pumping air into your shoes does not magically give your knuckle immense power. What is the correlation, sir? This is an act that is quite similar to a man putting air into his car tires before flying a plane.)

HHH:
I'm a man with a plan that will make Cena lose
At Wrestlemania 22, I will put on ruby tap shoes
There's no place like home when I'm a world champion
He's not Batista or Benoit so I'm not gonna lose again

Cena:
He's a new boy in your neighbourhood
His name is Triple H and it's understood
Hunter's there just to take good care of me
Like he's one of the family

He's "Paul In Charge"
Of my losses and victories
He's "Paul In Charge"
Of my finite popularity

And you'll want
You'll want
Paul in charge of me

(I have come to the conclusion that the more Hunter acts French and snooty, the more I like him as a wrestling personality and human being. Triple H as Jean-Paul Levesque is free to hoard my fridge for whatever snacks he may need. If Jean-Paul Levesque needs a more comfortable chair, I will retrieve one for him or make his chair in a woodshop--no questions asked. If he wants to sit back and watch Grey's Anatomy, I will change the channel and put in a tape to record the first of what will be a season-long complication for him. Conversely, 2007 Triple H will need to use a coaster. I'm sorry.)

HHH:
Gonna beat Cena real bloody, hook the Pedigree
He won't even see the ref count one, two, three
This is how we do it in the W-W-E
I'll put "Vanilla" on "ice" on Pay-Per-View TV

Cena:
Dental plan
Hunter needs braces
Dental plan
Hunter needs braces
Dental plan
Hunter needs braces

(I want to be objective, but Cena just served Triple H big time right there. The worst thing a man can tell another man is that the alignment of his teeth is askew. He might as well slap the beard right off of Triple H's face while he's at it.)

HHH:
Vince McMahon will pull down his pants
Shane McMahon will do a shuffle dance
I will stand proud with the title in my hand
As Linda plays me off air with her Motorhead jug band

Cena:
What's Hunter gonna do with that sledgehammer?
That sledgehammer in front of the cameras?
While I’m a get, get, get, get, him crunk,
Get him love crunk off my hump
What's he gon’ do with all those promos?
All those promos on Monday nights?
While I’m a make, make, make, make him face
Make him face, make him face
Cause of my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump
My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely lady lumps

(I like to think that John Cena has lady lumps to be proud of, but I don't think he got them in an honest and or pure manner. Does the Wellness Policy check for smuggled lady lumpage? The punishment for having smuggled lady lumps should not be three strikes; the committer should be fire immediately. Zero tolerance, I say. There will be no corruption.)

HHH:
Word life, this is basic Hunternomics
While John is using home economics
"Hey Hunter, I baked you a cake, hon!"
If I want some bitch, then I'll come get me some

(This time, Triple H turns the tables and serves Cena. He's passing up cake, for Peter's sake. Too many people are being served these days. This is getting dangerous. I don't want the young ones to see this carnage. I want a peaceful neighbourhood, gentlemen. What are you doing to my stomping grounds?)

Cena:
Check this out, I'm gonna rhyme with orange
...
...
...
Aw crap

(In actuality, dorange rhymes with orange. You won't find dorange in the dictionary because it is too awesome to be confined to the pages of a dictionary. Dorange is a adjective used to describe a paragraph that entails a blog author trying to come up with a stupid made-up word to rhyme with orange. For instance, this series of sentences is a dorange paragraph. I could go on and on about the word dorange, though I do not want to bore the audience. Maybe I should talk about something else. Should I not go on? Should dorange not dorange dorange dorange? Danny Dorange and Roadkill was a good oddball ECW tag team. Dorange.)

Appropriate Wrestling in Inappropriate Places Again

Snitsky Invades Rowan & Martin's Joke Wall

*****

NEXT WEEK

BOOB_LESS.222

AND

They have 3 ropes. Can't they fire the bottom rope? I get it. It's springy. Big deal.

Triple H's Beach Party Domination

Game Hunter Assassinating Hearst Game Helmsley Wrestling Aristocrat Game The is having a party. Autumn calls for chills and falling leaves, but Triple H does not want the summer to stop. Due to injury, he sadly missed out on all those gnarly waves and beautiful bikini babes. As of now, he wishes to make up for his lost sun-filled moments with a shindig of epic proportions. Don't you think it's about time that he revisit those dog days of July and August we so much enjoyed, which no doubt passed him by with the quickness? Sure you do. You have no choice.

Your local beach may be desolate and full of used hypodermic needles, but here at Triple H's Beach Party Domination, the only litter that you will find will be a basket of kittens -- sex kittens that is. There will be no surf, there will be no sand, but there will be bucket loads of fun in store for you.

Are you invited? If you have a face that is capable of being driven to the canvas, or a back that is magnetically attracted to the mat, absolutely positively yes. This is going to be peachy keen. Gee whiz, Hunter. You sure know how to throw a party.



Triple H is dominatin'
Triple H is dominatin'
Triple H is dominatin'
We're gonna play The Game
Triple H is the kind of guy who will wear a floppy hat with a sunflower on it for laughs. If you don't laugh at his humourous appearance, he will bury you in the sand and unleash a whole bunch of crabs on you. The crabs will walk sideways towards our face. Then, they will claw your eyes out... sideways.



Get yourself a tag team partner
This party's gonna be boss
Here's a song you two can sing now
One, two, three, and a loss
When Triple H takes a moonlight walk on the beach, he likes to spend a minute or two to appreciate life with a clam dig. He scoops up a clam, puts it in a Pedigree, and leaves it for dead. The rules of clam digging do not apply to him.



Triple H is dominatin'
Triple H is dominatin'
Triple H is dominatin'
We're gonna play The Game
If Triple H was the second scoop of a three-scoop ice cream cone, he'd find a way to make it to the top. It's much safer up there.



Here's a lad and here's a lassie
Coming down the bend
They're gonna help Triple H out
And he'll beat them again
Triple H tried to surf once, but failed. He said the waves were not large enough or talented enough to keep him up. His argument seems valid to me because I want to live.



Look up at those real bright lights
They're so shiny and white
Triple H has never seen one
Not on Monday or a Sunday night
Triple H thinks beach balls are too colourful and charismatic for their own good. He challenged one to a push-up contest once. Despite his torn groin, Triple H won decisively, dressed in his uncharacteristic biker shorts.



Triple H is dominatin'
Triple H is dominatin'
Triple H is dominatin'
We're gonna play The Game
One day at the beach, Triple H swam out into the deep waters of the ocean. The lifeguard yelled at him for doing so. Triple H came back and nailed the lifeguard with a Harley Race-like knee (where did he attain a replica of Harley Race's knee, anyway?) I don't know why the lifeguard had to shout. Hunter had floaties on, daggone it.




There is no one left to beat now
What's a Hunter to do?
You seagulls best better take flight now
Hunter's comin' for you
While children were building sandcastles, Triple H built a sledgehammer made out of tightly packed sand. He beat those sandcastles with that sandhammer. In turn, he struck those children with the sandhammer and sand went everywhere. Aw, it's in the netting of their bathing suits. Why, Hunter, why?



Triple H is dominatin'
Triple H is dominatin'
Triple H is dominatin'
We'll never win at this
We'll never win at this
Nobody wins at this
Game

Game over!
Triple H took all my Frisbees. I guess he likes Frisbees a whole bunch. He loves disc, he loves disc, he loves disc.

Appropriate Wrestling in Inappropriate Places

Wrestling Disrupts Cameron Frye at The Chicago Museum of Art


*****

NEXT WEEK

I squash five other blogs. I may also tell a joke which pertains to the male testes in an obvious manner.

AND

Shut Up Juice is actually Shut Up Drink. The company that makes it uses artificial shut ups. Yeah, that makes me sad too.

1

A Very Special Message from The Swerved with Stephen Rivera's Stephen Rivera:
You cannot see me at this moment but I am wearing a handsome tuxedo. For your information, I'm the sixth finest butler to ever author a professional wrestling blog. As you may recall, this is no ordinary butler's professional wrestling blog.

Welcome to the one-year anniversary of The Swerved with Stephen Rivera. This week, I celebrate the life and times of this little site on this here internet in the company of my friends and loved ones. Ever since I was a little girl in a flowery sundress, I longed for a place on the information tremendous turnpike to call my very own. It was in the month of September of the year 2006 that I started up The Swerved. When I began to follow my dream, I did not know how the venture would go; I was not sure how the public would receive my full-on personality. Now that I sit here with a year of golden stupidity under my comedy belt, I can look back at the work that I have done with pride and satisfaction. One day, I will reminisce in my bungalo for one with the knowledge that I have made a difference in this world which turns and turns. Today, I look to the future in hopes to dish out more potential greatness to the mass audience. I'll be pouring on the funny sauce until your hilarity cup says, "When." References to laughs are neat.

To those of you who have followed my work from the start, you are in my heart for all time. For those of you that have just joined me on this uphill journey to Glory Mountain, I hope you do not fall off this wondrous wagon, this e-Sherpa of wrestling delight. Finally, to those of you who despise The Swerved and or its creator, I have this to say--oh no you did not with finger snaps of a sassy nature in the general vicinity of your facial structure. Somebody hold my weave. Somebody hold my weave up. You want to tango, Bunter Bitch Belmsley? I've got the monkey claw pose going now, fool. Cufflinks. I've got the cufflinks off too.

*****
The Wrestling Professor on The Swerved's One-Year Anniversary:
Stephen Rivera... to many people, that name can mean so many things.

Awesome student. Stellar son. Big brother. Great neighbor. Sweet boyfriend. Best damn babysitter on the block.

But to me, and to those of us at The Armpit (which is about to re-launch imminently; cheap plug), the name Stephen Rivera brings to mind images of heartburn, gas, and the Heimlich Maneuver.

That's not because Stephen is spicy (though women have told me he is), but because he is high in fiber.

It's because he's friggin' hilarious, and we've busted many a gut and choked on many a popcorn kernel by reading his weekly doses of comic genius. But he is high in fiber, too. The insoluble kind.

I call myself many things (loser, dork, dumbf***, pipsqueak, unlucky S.O.B), but one thing I call myself every Monday morning is lucky. Why? Because I have a great wife and she initiated all verbal contact, physical contact, and wedding plans while I stood there quivering my lip. That, and also because I get to work with Stephen Rivera.

You see, Rivera is a rare breed. He's half poodle and half St. Bernard. But he's also funny without trying to be funny, and that is a trait as rare as a natural physique in the WWE locker room circa 2006.

What drew Stephen and I together? Our eyes met across a crowded room, if by room you mean thousands of miles of mountainous region, and by eyes you mean cable modems. He slipped me his business card, if by business card you mean an email containing his first article. And I hired him on the spot for a huge salary, if by hiring you mean copying and pasting, and by huge salary you mean working for free.

We got lots of guest articles back in the day, and I was too nice to tell anyone they sucked. We posted some real clunkers, and people let us know about it. But with Stephen, the difference was obvious. He had real talent, real humor, and real breasts. No one complained about Stephen's articles; they wrote in with gushing praise. This was unheard of for anyone except two people: Stephen Rivera and Jimbo.

But this column isn't about Jimbo. Or is it? Oh, it is? Shoot, ok never mind everything I just said. Replace the word "Stephen" with "Jimbo." But what about the word "Rivera?" That would confuse people into thinking I'm writing about Jimbo Rivera. There is no such person. And if there is, I would alert the authorities because he would have dual citizenship.

Stephen is the most awesome comic mind I've ever seen who wasn't selling out stadiums with their HBO specials. And I've seen a lot of minds, especially in my Biology lab. And Rivera may have even done an HBO special, but if he has, he hasn't told me. Have you, Stephen?

Stephen's creativity is unmatched, and if someone were to match it, he'd beat their price.

Stephen's graphics are top notch, and that's a notch on a bedpost with hundreds of notches below it.

Stephen's blogs are diamonds in the rough, and diamonds are forever, and so is Ric Flair.

It would be an honor if Stephen Rivera were to work with me, or by himself, or for a major motion picture. As good as he is, he represents a lot of shame. Shame for anyone with a Human Resources budget who doesn't hire this man immediately and make him a star.

If I worked for Conan O'Brien, I'd hire Stephen and fire all the other writers. If I worked for Jay Leno, I'd hire Stephen and make the other writers prepare his lunch. If I worked for David Letterman, I'd hire Stephen as the host and make David the band leader. If I worked for Howard Stern, I'd toss Rivera's resumé in the trash and soak in all the glory myself.

That's how highly I think of Stephen Rivera, and I never get high. Congratulations to Mr. Rivera for his blogs of glory, and thank you so much for writing me the most awesome material in the past, present, and future.

Stephen Rivera rules the world, and that's one Sid Vicious reference you can take to the bank. I'm proud to call him my friend, and even more proud to call him collect. He's that damn good, and HHH, you aren't man enough to even dust his mousepad.

I'm Swerved, you're Swerved, we're all Swerved. Here's to another year of Swervin' it up.

*****
J. "Jimbo" Swift on The Swerved's One-Year Anniversary:
First and foremost, I would like to congratulate my good friend Rivera on the first year anniversary of The Swerved. Do you know what the traditional gift for one-year anniversaries is? That’s right, satire. And here’s to a wondrous future of much more of it, and hopefully, us getting paid some day.

I prefer to liken Mr. Rivera with his hero, Conan O’Brien. They’re both funny as heck, and they’re able to pull off abstract humor with bravado, gusto, and a whole lot of other-os, which is particularly hard to do in the world of interneting.

Where do I see The Swerved, and thusly, Mr. Rivera, a year from now? Well, on top of course. I’m not quite sure which object they will be atop of, but I’m sure that it will provide a pretty sweet view.

Finally, to mark this momentous occasion, I decided to construct a haiku poem in Rivera’s honor. It goes a little something like this:

"Rivera, Big Steve,
Blogspot king of comedy,
Out of syllables."
Good luck with everything
J. (JIMBO) Swift

*****
My Thank Yous

Thank you for providing The Swerved with sports, entertainment, and sports-like entertainmentesque source material on a weekly basis:
World Wrestling Entertainment
Total Nonstop Action

Thank you for your friendship, support, and free cheese:
Archibald "The Wrestling Professor " Gutierrez
James "Jimbo" Swift

Thank you for being a friend:
The Golden Girls a.k.a. The Four Horsewomen

Thank you for joining in on the insanity:
Alex Reimer
Justin Shapiro

Thank you for featuring me on your site that one time at the end of that one thing with other things over there:
Big Dave Meltzer

Thank you for the acids:
Jemaine Clement
Bret McKenzie

Thank you for being my audience:
The Swerved Nation
The Followers of The Pit

Thank you for being foxy and relevant to this blog:
Rachelle Leah
Mickie James' Psycho Persona

Thank you for being foxy and irrelevant to this blog:
Jade Raymond
January Jones"The Ladies"

Thank you for being so awesome:
Me

Thank you for your thank yous:
Everyone

Thank you:
Come Again

The Swerved Presents: Dream Match the 26th

World Tag Team Title Match
Mike & Ben Seaver vs. Cade & Murdoch (c)

Show me that show again (Ooh, show me that show)
I think they were partners for a little while
Boner might've managed them
The Rednecks' reign is gonna end

Ooh
As long as they help each other
They'll be sportin' tag gold right around their waists
People, you and me
We will truly be
The most entertained viewers who never stopped viewin'

As long as we pay the forty
We'll see them use Carol as a foreign object
On Sunday or replayed
On the couch we'll stay
We get to watch them
Make their Pay-Per-View debut (Make their Pay-Per-View debut)

The Question:
Who wins and how?

*****

NEXT WEEK

The Swerved celebrates its one-year anniversary. Bring the whole family. I have one hot dog and a half-full can of Pepsi. It's first come, first swerved.

AND

To begin year the second, I am getting a check-up. What? You have to put your what where? That's where I keep my safe deposit box, doctor.

A to Z Criticisms

Due to laws I cannot comprehend, wrestling analysts are given free range to say whatever they please without retribution. They can claim the moon landing never happened and be thought of as geniuses. They can try to prove that evolution does not exist through an intricate play involving shadow puppets and the world will believe them. I did not know until recently that I am a wrestling analyst myself. Yesterday, an old, strange, and crotchety man came up to me in the street and said, "You're a wrestling analyst. Now give me a dollar." In the end, I gave him that dollar, or did I express my opinion so well that he thought I gave him that dollar? Who knows? Even I do not know. That's how good I am at convincing people.

Wrestling analysts criticize until the cows do something involving transportation and their home. To fit into the mold of the professional wrestling critic, let me put on my critiquing hat, galloshes, weight belt, and cummerbund. There are many problems with World Wrestling Entertainment; twenty-six to be exact. I will express them to you thusly:

Ashley on Survivo(u)r Segments
Ashley Massaro will appear on the next installment of Survivo(u)r on CBS. According to Ashley, there will be no running water for the contestants. According to Ashley, there will be no bathtubs, albeit I am glad she will be able fo find herself a backwards hat somewhere in the mountains. Thanks for the information, Ashley. I'll store it next to my Surreal Life DVD set/encyclopedia featuring Chyna Doll.

Batista's Dress is Too Formal
I am beginning to not care for you much at all, Suity Tie Individual. There is no need to dress as if you were attending a summer wedding on a beach each Friday night broadcast. You are not a wine coinosseur from the 80's. Wrestling fans at home do not care whether or not you appear dapper. They are on their sofas in their heart-patterned boxers with three holes in the crotch, two of which were man-made. If you want me to fight me for this, Sir Animal of Smackdown, I will take you down. Although, let me put on my neckerchief to make you more comfortable.

Carlito's Haircut
I will not compare Carlito's new hairdo to that of a bald Sampson, but it appears as though he has lost most of his charisma because of the cut. Carlito is not cool but room temperature. You cannot find him in the freezer aisle. You will have to look for him on the shelf that holds lukewarm mayonnaise. Part of what made Carlito unique was his hair, which is now down to a modest Cosby fro. I would like to spit in the face of Carlito's barber. But, before I do that, the barber will have to pump his foot a couple times on the lever to raise my barber chair so I can spit directly in his eyes.

DAMN
Ron Simmons' catchphrase is wearing thin. It has lost 15 pounds of funny in only 2 weeks. Ron Simmons' "DAMN!" is like the friend you invite to the party who stays until the end of the party just to take home the leftover food and drinks. "Wha happened" to the zing, Far Rooq? Your wrist tape is too tight, Acolyte.

ECW's Roster
With the mass clearing of many ECW Originals from the television show, the roster is down to about three performers, a quarter of a diva, and a broken chair. CM Punk is the ECW Champion, but what does that even mean when he only has one opponent to face? In other words, I can safely say that I am the greatest Stephen Rivera to ever write for The Swerved though that is no accomplishment. I am but one of a handful of Stephen Riveras in this world who write for wrestling blogs entitled The Swerved. That is a minimal achievement at best, friend.

Females and Volleyball
Here's a tough test question for the student readers out there in Onlineville: A bus runs its route and stops at various destinations. At this moment, there are 5 people on the bus, including the bus driver. At the first stop, 2 people get on and 2 people leave the bus. At the second stop, 7 people get on while 1 person leaves. Before the driver heads to the third stop, 2 more people make a run for the bus and get on just in time. At the third stop, 8 people get on as 5 people leave. At the fourth stop, 2 people get on while 3 people leave.

Q: How many people in total are on the bus?
WWE's A: Let's all watch a bunch of females play volleyball in their bikinis instead.

Attractive females playing volleyball is WWE's answer to everything. You see, chairshots are dangerous. I say WWE will rectify this problem by replacing all chairs in the arena with footage of WWE Diva contestants playing volleyball.

Grisham Deficiency
To stay healthy and fit, I take multivitamins on a daily basis. One of those vitamins is Vitamin G, which stands for Todd Grisham Television Moments. Todd Grisham doing anything winds up in unintentional hilarity. There is not enough Grisham to go around these days. What the world needs now is more Todd Grisham. It's the only thing that there's just too little of.

Hornswoggle McMahon
Imagine the following scenario: You spend over a half-century of your life with the knowledge that you're a successful wrestling mogul who likes to walk in an awkward way. You wear your successes with confidence on your Muscle & Fitness face. You have a wife with Mom Hair who may or may not be a robot with real-feel flesh. You have a son who was the champion of Europe for a short period of time. Your daughter is the wife of the King of Kings of Kings of Kings of Kings who lives in a King of Kingdoms.

Then, one day, you find out your son is a leprechaun who lives under the ring. It's rightly terrible, but it doesn't have to be.

Vince, your realization will be entertaining if and only if you try to bond with Hornswoggle. You must live under the ring too. You must don a grown-up leprechaun's outfit. You must heel-click your way into your bastard son's heart if you are to gain my approval as a critic and fan. If you do not do all of these things, you will lose me forever. I will never watch RAW again until next week. I'm warning you.

Injury Voice
The Injury Voice is utilized by commentators on RAW, Smackdown, and ECW. Jim Ross employs it with the frequency when he wants to convince fans that a serious occurrence is or has appeared on the screen. "This is terrible, King. I don't know what to say," Ross utters in a subdued and defeated tone. "I can't believe it, JR," says Jerry Lawler in a low squeal as they witness emergency personnel transfer Val Venis (who suffered slight indigestion due to an attack by Snitsky) onto a stretcher. This solemn tone is in no way convincing and ridicules previous instances in which true tragedies happened in the ring. As penance, I command Jim Ross to slap Jerry Lawler, while Jerry Lawler must slap Jim Ross. At the same time, they should both slap Michael Cole.

Jamie Noble and the Cruiserweights
In years past, WWE cruiserweights were treated like royalty. They would defeat gargantuan monsters with ease and run roughshod all over Smackdown. They put the cruiserweights that made WCW enjoyable in its heyday to tremendous shame with soon-to-be-classic matches, most of which involved Funaki. Today, Jamie Noble is in charge of a non-existent division. Shannon Moore is also there with a lot of tattoos and junk. Each week, Jimmy Wang Yang howdowns into the sunset. Jamie Noble wears a shirt that defames Hornswoggle and attempts to lure him into his traps with Lucky Charms; I am wearing a shirt that defames Jamie Noble. I plan to lure him into my traps with a blind Nidia. Get rich again, Nunzio's country cousin. I demand to see your purchase of a gold bidet.

Ken Kennedy
When I think of Ken Kennedy, I become a bigger fan of the boxing ring microphone that he uses than the actual wrestler. Ken Kennedy is like The Boy Who Cried Wolf. In The Boy Who Cried Wolf, The Boy went on news talk shows and proclaimed that he was never a wolf user. He swore up and down that World Wrestling Entertainment had a zero tolerance policy on wolf usage. The Boy announced that there was no wolf problem in wrestling, chastizing the performers of the past and supposed abusers of the present who engaged in the taking of wolves. When it was finally revealed that he was a wolf user, wrestling fans stopped believing in anything a wrestler had to say about wolves.

Love Between Kelly Kelly and Balls Mahoney
Perhaps the most peculiar and intriguing storyline in WWE is the blooming relationship of Kelly Kelly and Balls Mahoney. When Balls gave Kelly a cuddly teddy bear in front of a "Together" sign on ECW, DVD copies of The Notebook ran down my face. I could not help but shed those DVDs for it was a tender and beautiful moment seldom seen on WWE programming. As Kelly Kelly attempts to break away from The Miz-obessed Extreme Exposé, I want to root for her and for Balls, except I cannot. I find it quite difficult to buy into a Kelly-Balls relationship.

Does Kelly Kelly actually believe she can get a hot tamale like Mahoney to be her boo? I don't think so, girlfriendly girl.

Major Brothers
Major Brothers? What? More like Minor Brothers. Am I right, ladies? Not so funny jokes about dating and snide remarks about men and stuff. Something about a tampon that is rather gross than clever. Right, ladies?

Not Enough Heel Santino
Oh, gadies and lentlemen. What a show Santino has put on for us. I want more shows, Marella.

Santino is what a bad guy should be in today's WWE. If he had someone who could wrestle his matches for him, he would be my favourite of all-time. When he tried to crack Sandman's love stick over his knee and failed, I guffawed like I never guffawed before. Due to this wonderful scene, Sandman is now gone from the company. He could not compete with Santino's acts. I bet Sandman would never take Santino's Maria and try to break her in half. Even if he could, I wouldn't guffaw in response.

Over the Top Makeup Application
I'm looking at you, Jillian Hall. Your talent is overshadowed by your face, which reminds me of the Travelling Circus. I did not enjoy the Travelling Circus. The elephants moved too fast for my liking.

Played Out Matches Between CM Punk and Elijah Burke
In a twist that is not so twisty, CM Punk defends his ECW Championship against Elijah Burke at Unforgiven. I do not know if my being is willing to shell out money to see a bout I have witnessed numerous times before. Sometimes, I have nightmares involving excessive repetition. I've been having trouble sleeping lately due to the fact that every time my head hits the pillow, I picture Booker T and Christian fighting for the Intercontinental Championship. I cannot get this image out of my conscience; it will linger until the day I perish. If a nuclear bomb ever hits your city, I am told that you should find a bomb shelter made out of Booker T vs. Christian matches because they will stand the test of opposing forces.

Quietness and Michael Cole
Be quiet, Michael Cole. I'm going to hit you in the skull if you do not listen to me. The Three Amigos performed by Chavo Guerrero is disrespectful to his late uncle Eddie, whereas the Three Amigos performed by Rey Mysterio is a tribute to his late friend Eddie. What am I trying to say? I am going to Three Amigos your skull if you are not silent in my presence, Cole.

Randy Orton's Kick to the Face
It seems to me that Randy Orton is not as passionate for wrestling as he is for playing soccer with human heads. He has toppled legends and fathers with the kicking move before, yet I do not buy it as a legitimate final blow. Think back to the days of Mortal Kombat when Sub-Zero would finish his adversaries by tearing their spines out from their very persons. If I had to compare Randy Orton to Sub-Zero, which I do frequently, Randy's Kick to the Face has the equivalent force of an infant punching a concrete wall. I long for the days when Randy did nothing to the face other than RKOing. When I grow up, I wish to take RKOs everywhere I go. I want Randy Orton to attend my wedding some day in the future so he may give away my future wife via RKO. I hope RKO will be right there in the delivery room to RKO my son and or daughter's umbilical cord.

I am not a fan of Kick to the Face. It's been done better before, is done better now, and will be bettered for the rest of our days.

Sweaty Mark Henry
Mark Henry is akin to a grizzly bear who has just competed in the Boston Marathon. I'm positive that Mark Henry does not make frequent trips to the bathroom to relieve himself from the front. I think he simply sweats any trace of liquid waste through the pores of his skin. Why did Mark Henry walk across the street? To sweat.

I am all for letting the body cool itself naturally, but Mark Henry is ridiculous. He is a walking waterpark of fun in the sun for the kiddies, yet it will be Fall soon. Fall is the unhappiest of seasons because the waterparks close.

The Wonder of Vickie Guerrero
Vickie Guerrero is a bundle of entertainment and a potpourri of laughs. Vickie Guerrero is ten times the General Manager that Theodore Long wishes to be. If Kristal Marshall's marriage to Theodore Long was a ploy concocted by Vickie to usurp the General Managing Throne, I applaud her. She mated a curvaceous booty to a peanut in order to make Batista vs. Finlay matches. She can do no wrong because she is all right. Get Thaddeus out of there post haste.

Three cheers for Vickie Guerrero. May you one day wrestle Jonathan Coachman at Wrestlemania, Vickie. This is my boyhood dream; I want it to come true. Do not let me down.

Understanding The Great Khali
I feel I am committing a sacrilegious act when I comprehend snippets of promos from the Punjab giant. One of every 20 words he utters is a word that is kind of English to me. Therefore, I do not need interpreter Runjin Singh anymore. He can leave through enthusiastic jumping. When I watch The Great Khali, I feel like I am in Lost in Translation. I am Bill Murray selling alcoholic beverages, while The Great Khali becomes Scarlett Johannson, which is both an exciting and frightening turn of events.

Vince McMahon is too Vince McMahon
Mr. McMahon's lavender suits should be the image that flashes in my line of vision before I descend to heaven. I will leave my body as it is groped by many beautiful ladies in a pile of I.O.U.More.Beautiful.Ladies. I know Vince McMahon is searching for his illegitimate son and all, though he doesn't have to interact with all the women he sexified to find out. If the son was a WWE superstar, couldn't Vince have just asked each one? How many wrestlers are there? Four (three of which are Triple H)? Plus, it's not like the wrestlers will spend time explaining in detail why or why not they are his child. Big Daddy V isn't going to use words. His left pectoral boobage will simply nod twice for yes and shake twice for no. Things are looking up for Vince McMahon because down and eye level are already overflowing with his grapefruit-fueled tirades.

William Regal Absence
I know his suspension is a necessary punishment; I support it. With that said, don't go, William Regal. What will become of Youmanga? Do not play my heart like a fiddle.

Xylophones and Entrances
In 2007, the entrance themes of WWE lack the pop and personality of the tunes of yesteryear. I used to hum along to the melodic sounds of the wrestling world, but the banality of current music has left me without song in my life. I have heard enough of the electric guitar; if Cookie Monster sings one more song about "rocking it out", I will dropkick an orphan.

The xylophone is a percussion instrument invented by Xylo, who wanted to invent a telephone but messed up during production. A xylophone's sound is crisp and beautiful. World Wrestling Entertainment gets negative points for the exclusion of the xylophone in every modern entrance theme. What do you have against the xylophone, McMahon Family? Did the xylophone try to attack you like those who attacked Vince during the steroid trial? Give me xylohpone or give me nothiing.

Yackety Yack-Yack
Speaking is an art form. In history, the aural word allowed stories of the past to be later documented on paper. If WWE was smart, they would execute their angles and storylines with briefness rather than utilize long-winded speeches and soliloquies that meander without a true conclusion. Yes, the Attitude Era of the late 90s was built on the 20-minute RAW segment, but this is the 21st century, Gramps and Grans. This past week at the start of RAW, it took almost a full half-hour to get to a point of a point--Mr. Lawyer told Mr. McMahon he would know the identity of his illegitimate son that night, but would have to wait until the main event to find out. First of all, that lawyer is a pretty good wrestling booker, putting a major storyline payoff in a main event timeslot like that. Then again, the wrestling audience already knew when and where the story would be revealed. So, what happened during the wait? Vince McMahon proceeded to take the rest of the show speaking in 20 different segments, rambling 100 essays worth of expression into two hours.

Watching WWE is like watching a box of wind-up chattering teeth. You start to question why you have such a box. You want to throw the box away because the chatter never ends.

Zebra Attire is Lacking
Today, no performer is sporting the Zubaz pants. No grappler is riding a zebra to the ring. This upsets me. I quit.