NEXT WEEK
All start, no finish.
AND
Wish we all could freeze and explode.
Monday, February 23, 2009
New Members of the New World Order: Computer Electronics Snobbery
NEXT WEEK
All start, no finish.
AND
Wish we all could freeze and explode.
The Love
Love is a four-letter word that every man, woman, and child should say on television and in movies all the time. When wrestlers and or wrestling personalities fall in love, the world becomes a beautiful place in which to live. When wrestlers are in love, they don't want to wrestle. They just want to love each other, pinning their lovers to the mat with hugs and kisses. Professional wrestlers are comparable to you and I, except that their love is scheduled for one fall with a twenty-minute time limit. Disqualifications and count outs are not part of this match because love is not a bout that can be thrown around for free. Love is a feeling that is best left for Pay-Per-View events, where WWE talent can love in a graphic, TV-14-rated form.
A wrestler's love is unconditional in that no matter how tough the relationship gets, the love will continue because both lovers agreed to participate in the romance three weeks prior to the bout during an intense and dramatic contract signing. One wrestler built up his female (or male) lover as a worthy competitor who deserved the tender love of another. Next, the other wrestler deemed that love does not cost a thing, other than the forty dollars it takes to watch the love unfold on Pay-Per-View. Once in a while, the love will continue on the next Pay-Per-View, but I wouldn't guarantee that the love will be as good as before. As a means to keep the love fresh, perhaps WWE will try to place their love in a Texas Bull Rope Match. Sure, you may enjoy the sight, but the match is difficult for the lovers. They may enjoy the bull rope part, but not the Texas part.
Love makes a professional wrestler do crazy things, such as purchasing a fragrant bouquet of flowers or elbow dropping an opponent from the top turnbuckle to the ECW announce table. Love is the feeling one gets when you climb the ladder ever so slowly, reach up ever so slowly, and grab the Money in the Bank briefcase as Shelton Benjamin looks on as the loser for the trillionth time. As the moonlight falls upon this sleepy city, I pray to love and be loved one day. I wish upon several falling stars that I can love another like a wrestler loves another. Wrestlers in love seem so well-adjusted. I want that life, not just for myself, but for the fans--the wrestling fans of wrestling love.
This week, let us take a belated look at the romances of World Wrestling Entertainment in a segment I like to call, "The Love." On second thought, I don't like to call it "The Love." I love to call it "The Love." Did you see what I did there as you sit in your boxer briefs, eating Cheetos by yourself and crying to the RAW theme song? You just want to be, want to be luh-uh-oved. Do not be afraid to let WWE teach you the true meaning of love.
Wrestling history has proven that the ladies love Santino Marella. In particular, Beth Phoenix--the most ladylike of ladies--is rather sweet on the man. The romance between Beth and Santino is your typical love story: woman beats up man, man cries as woman beats him up, man gains feelings for woman who beats him up, and woman grabs girly man's ass to reciprocate the feelings. Every relationship should follow the Marella-Phoenix template, but life is not perfect. In dreams, Santino Marella and Beth Phoenix are the ideal wrestling couple. Now and again, I scour the land for my Beth Phoenix, only to find out that the average female bicep does not taste delicious at all. I'm jealous of Santino Marella for reasons other than the fact that he is Santino Marella.
Unfortunately, Rosa Mendes has involved herself in the romance picture. What is to become of the Marella-Phoenix love? I knew a woman who looked a lot like Rosa Mendes. Even though she was quite fetching in the looks department, she ruined everything in the everything department. She put maple syrup on my bacon, bacon on my pancakes, and multiple ethnicities in my bedroom. At best, my boudoir has the capacity to hold three ethnicities at best. According to my name, I am a combination of at least two ethnicities. Unless my eyes have mistaken me, Rosa Mendes is more than one ethnicity. After we had our fling, my bedroom exploded because the girl was both Costa Rican and Czech. Since I am no Santino Marella, what will happen to Santino when Rosa gets a hold of his pasta fagioli? Beth Phoenix better watch out for that hussy. Rosa is about to “home wreck” their Tuscan villa.
Estimated love time left: Santino and Beth are soulmates, but Rosa Mendes will devour their souls. I give their romance two months, just in time for a certain 25th edition of a certain annual Pay-Per-View spectacular. In other words, Santino and Beth will be done at Love-atholon XXV. Sucks to be them.
When Layla ditched that lovable scamp Jamie Noble for the 2008 King of the Ring and King of Women's Bathing Suits, I was heartbroken. Noble may not be the rich lottery winner he once was, but he had more to give her than money. For example, he had love to give Miss Layla El. While I am not sure about William Regal and Layla’s romantic relationship, Jamie Noble believes their love to be true. Hence, who am I to doubt Jamie Noble--the noblest of Jamies in the entire company? Layla fell for a gentleman who resembles a fashionable English grandmother. No mortal man can compete with William Regal.
The love between Regal and Layla is strong. At the same time, the love between Regal and Layla is not. On RAW, Layla never greets Regal with a loving embrace. She never gives him a passionate tongue cleaning. For the sake of the children, we may be better for the lack of this visual, yet their relationship struggles because of it. Where are the candlelit dinners? Where are the romantic comedies with Renée Zellweger? Where are the double-date, feathered hair appointments with the Undertaker and Michelle McCool? William Regal may be a talented technical fighter, but he is a poor technical lover. He cannot lovingly thrust his way out of a paper (or plastic) bag.
Estimated love time left: I sense a coldness between William Regal and Layla, similar to the coldness between myself and Vince McMahon. Limousines tend to explode more often than you think, Vince. Why didn’t you listen to me? Regal and Layla's relationship will be over by tomorrow.
Currently, WWE Tag Team Champions Carlito and Primo Colon are in a battle with World Tag Team Champions John Morrison and The Miz for the affection of Brie and Nikki Bella. In this tag team love triangle, I do not see a future for either possible couple. As we all know, Carlito cares more about propelling fruits from his mouth than spending time with women. As for Primo, he easily falls out of love, but then springs back into love with an '80s style comeback. John Morrison may dig the ladies, but not as much as he loves his sparkly abdominal muscles. In addition, The Miz is half as good as John Morrison, so Mizanin doesn't count for anything. Now, when you take a long look at this triangle, you cannot help but think twice about the Bella Twins themselves. Are they worth the trouble?
Many red-blooded men think twins are hot in sexual temperature because one looks women looks exactly like the other. On that note, I am not an ordinary, red-blooded male. If I wanted my tag team partner and or my brother and I to date women who looked like each other, I would take one woman, clone her, then give the clone to my Marty Jannetty. I'm sure the Marty Jannetty half of my team wouldn't mind. Even then, I wouldn't be happy about it. Of course, The Bella Twins are attractive, but they are not worth the cloning process. In fact, the only women that I would clone is Kelly Kelly. That way, our travelling family band would have stereo tambourines. In the end, don't we all want stereo tambourines?
Estimated love time left: The battle between the Colons and Miz and Morrison will end in heartbreak. Neither team will attain the love of the Bella Twins because they are the Colons and Miz and Morrison. On the next episode of Smackdown, the Colons and Miz and Morrison will date to try things out for a bit. Let them experiment.
Depending on the hour of the day, Edge is the current World Heavyweight Champion, WWE Champion, World Heavyweight Champion then WWE Champion, WWE Champion then World Heavyweight Champion, or Smackdown General Manager Vickie Guerrero's husband who obsesses about winning the World Heavyweight Championship or WWE Championship. On a recent Smackdown, after Vickie Guerrero asked the adoring fans to excuse her, Edge stepped in and requested that they should excuse her as well. Wherever you're from, that's a sign of love. One day, I wish to be lucky enough to request that the fans excuse my Smackdown general managing wife. Perhaps, my wife will be Vickie Guerrero or some other widow-turned-general manager. Either way, I will love her. We shall ride the teeter-totter, feeding each other grapes before a soft camera lens.
As a wrestling expert, Edge's love for Vickie is genuine; I can see it in his eyes. His R-Rated eyes never lie. They may contain scenes of violence, coarse language, nudity, and suggestive themes with a trout and a motorized golf ball cleaner, but his eyes are fairly truthful. In turn, Vickie Guerrero's eyes are honest. She loves Edge in an unconditional manner because his lack of a surname has allowed her to keep the Guerrero name as her own. Although Eddie Guerrero is not here with us today, I bet he's happy that Vickie has found love again. After all, Vickie was able to steal Edge's heart. One day, she shall steal ours.
Estimated love time left: The romance between Edge and Vickie Guerrero is raw and authentic, best compared to the love that Edge and Lita shared. Therefore, Edge and Vickie's love will last forever.
Have you seen the cat? If not, the cat is out of the bag. Tell your friends. After Randy Orton took out Stephanie McMahon with the RKO, none other than Triple H came out to tend to his real-life wife and stare at Orton as if he was concentrating on an antagonist bowel movement. Those bowels don't move themselves, Hunter. Push them. Use your anger towards Orton as porcelain motivation.
Hunter and Stephanie have been married for over five years. They have two children together. They are so in love that they are able to communicate with each other through crotch chops only. I was never one of those foolish analysts who believed Hunter Hearst Helmsley married Stephanie McMahon in order to cement his main event position in World Wrestling Entertainment. You see, human beings do not get the choose with whom they fall in love. Sometimes, love just blossoms like a flower in the spring time or a Mayim Bialik on NBC. Years ago, I fell in love with a girl who turned out to be the Statue of Liberty. One time, Brick Tamland fell in love with an ornate lamp. When you grow up, wrestling fans, you'll understand what I'm talking about when I talk about love. For now, reconsider hating Triple H for more logical reasons, such as the fact that his Lemmy-inspired beard appears uneven at times. What kind of superstar is this guy? Uneven beard? Un-even-believable.
Estimated love time left: Their love is as pure as white snow or high quality cocaine. They will be together for forever and a day.
Monday, February 16, 2009
New Members of the New World Order: Paper Towel Hate Dispenser
NEXT WEEK
I was right.
AND
How dare you say such things so close to the statue of Santa Lucia-- the patron saint of judgmental statues.
The Entrances
Last week, I reviewed the glorious ninth installment of WWE: The Music entitled Voices. While I was content with the majority of the album's offerings, I wished for more. I do not understand what is stopping World Wrestling Entertainment from creating great music. At their best, they make good music, but they can never be great. For the first time ever, I wish to lend a hand. This hand is fairly unpredictable, but if I position it right in the correct lighting, this hand will be a helping one.
Without question, I adore music. I listen to music every day and every night, but not every afternoon. I must not be the only one who reserves afternoons for some Me Time. Nevertheless, my admiration for music is so strong that I am willing to channel my interests to help the wrestling industry. In a biased manner, I shall recommend songs that will change the professional wrestling landscape forever. They will enhance gimmicks, show off personalities, and bring happiness and free hot dogs and Pepsi to the wrestling world. If you are not with me, you are against me with an empty hot dog bun and an empty cup of Pepsi.
Sometimes, I wonder why I choose to save WWE again and again. Maybe I should help those who will actually appreciate my hard work, rather than blast my hard work from afar, then take credit for my efforts a few months later. As I second-guess my decision to help out this big corporation, I take pleasure in my choice. When wrestling becomes cool again, you know who to thank. This guy right here with the thumbs.
In the second edition of The Entrance, I will continue my music recommending spree. I hope you're listening to what I'm listening, World Wrestling Entertainment. Wherever you are, you will always be a part of me--the part I don't like. I want to say spleen, but I don't hate my spleen that much. I'm disappointed in my spleen, though. My spleen is like the kid who comes to his father with a report card of straight Bs. For a spleen, straight Bs are impressive, but they're no As.
Maria comes again like bad medicine. Michelle McCool believes you are not for her as you are just another man in love with her. Stephanie McMahon is grown up enough to get her big brother to fight enemies on her behalf. Today, I am unhappy with the entrance themes of the WWE Divas. What happened to the days when Trish Stratus had the keys to the city? She didn't have one key, but many keys. While some WWE Divas have a key to the city, they do not possess several.
In hopes to bring back the WWE Diva entrance theme to greatness, Santogold's "Creator" will do the trick like a dog who knows how to do tricks, except in a musical way. This song will make you bop your head, move your feet, and start fights with people and animals larger than you. For goodness sake, the WWE Diva who uses this song will become a creator. She will possess the power to run the streets and break up houses. If I was a WWE Diva, I would want nothing more than the power to break up a romantic relationship between two houses. They don’t belong together. They have different faiths.
Some wrestling fans claim that Marty Jannetty is stuck in the 1980s. After all, his DayGlo wrestling tights from his days as the window-smashing half of the Rockers continues to be an integral part of his wardrobe. You may call that sight sad, but I call it inspirational. Marty Jannetty wants to hold onto his favourite decade; I want to hold onto that decade with him. The '80's made my birth possible. The '80s gave us Hulk Hogan. Most of all, the '80s made WrestleMania what it is today: Mr. T-friendly.
Montreal's Dave 1 and P-Thugg are Chromeo--the chrome version of an “electrofunky” oreo. They love their synthesizers and talk boxes. In particular, Dave 1 likes to talk like a robot. Don't we all wish to speak like robots? French music producer Yuksek adds even more robotic deliciousness with his remix of Chromeo's "Bonafied Lovin'." Which WWE wrestler seems like he could give the most "Bonafied Lovin'"? John Cena's lower half. If you are like me, you tend to stare at wrestler's crotches (male, female, and other) during tedious matches. I don't know if you noticed, but John Cena gets pretty excited in the jean shorts area when he wrestles. Take a look back at his inter-gender tag match with a returning Trish Stratus. You will see the "bonafied" part of the lovin'. I can’t blame him. Her keys to the city are pretty attractive. They look like keys to entire countries.
Toronto, Ontario's Kardinal Offishall is one of the best Canadian-based, official cardinals I have ever seen. When he's not rapping, he's serving the pope (The Pope Todd Grisham) rather well. Together, Kardinal Offishall and the Pope Todd Grisham survey holy matters, such as the return of Christian to World Wrestling Entertainment. Whenever Christian arrives, the Pope Todd Grisham knows and he will say that he knows in a disappointing, anti climactic fashion. Kardinall helps Grisham blow smoke out the chimneys in the shape of the letter C.
With assistance from The Clipse, Kardinal Offishall is prepared to set it off. I bet several wrestlers on all three brands wish to join him. William Regal finds this track to be bumping. The Undertaker rolls his 'bows to the beat as he undertakes things. Lastly, Umaga enjoys this song, but does not have the ability to verbally express his admiration. Therefore, he's just going to set things on before setting things off again with his taped thumb. That taped thumb is talented.
Did you know that love is a rebellious bird? Well, you should. They've been singing about this fact for several years. Love is the Stone Cold Steve Austin of human emotions. When love makes its presence known, be prepared to eat a Stone Cold Stunner right in the heart. In the end, you shall feel shame--the Kizarny of human emotions. You'll swallow a sword made out of pain and heartache, then spin around a whole bunch.
Unless you are unaware of my love for eclectic music, you should not be surprised by my choice. I'm straight up digging music from operas, people. In this case, The Neptunes and Kelis get it done. World Wrestling Entertainment would be a fool not to use this song for their next great superstar. I assume that this particular ditty would be appropriate for a rebellious man, but what about a bird? How about a rebellious wrestling bird? The bird could feud with a window pane.
Together, singer and guitarist Dan Auerbach and drummer Patrick Carney are known as The Black Keys. To my knowledge, they are not The Black Keys to the City. If a popular WWE Diva receives a key to the city, I guess it will not be black in colour or ethnicity. The Black Keys' "I Got Mine" is a nifty blues-rock anthem, reminiscent of my blues-rock band from the late '90s.
My friend Rick, his friend Alex, and I called ourselves "Barry Horowitz's Other Hand." Why did you call yourselves that name, one person inquires? To answer your question, Jane Dobson from Norfolk, Virginia, we were Barry Horowitz's Other Hand because we could be. What else were we supposed to call ourselves? Barry Horowitz's Other Hand is way better than The Who, The Doors, or The Apple Dumpling Gang. When Barry Horowitz pats his back with one hand, what is the other hand doing? Slapping the taste of out the naysayers' mouths. As a band, we slapped all of them (for two days). I slapped some with my electric recorder.
Before you ask J Diggz about his stage name, or the name of his song, J Diggz wants you to know that he doesn't have time to answer your silly questions. J Diggz is so busy that he does not have one minute to spare to correct the glaring spelling errors in his name, nor the name of his song. Stop playing around, wrestling audience. J Diggz is here. Give him dat. Give him dat as soon as possible. Don't make him take dat from you by force.
I would deem "Gimme Dat" as the perfect theme for Cryme Tyme, but Shad Gaspard and JTG do not deserve this pimptacular song. For one, Shad Gaspard is a big, sluggish guy who doesn't understand the difference between a real coin and a fake coin until it is too late. For two, JTG seems busier than J Diggz. In my opinion, JTG is so busy that his parents were busy when they tried to name their busy, newborn son. "Let's put a J and a T in there somewhere. Most likely, we'll put it at the beginning. Shillings, shillings. Yeah, yeah.” I think JTG's parents had very little time on their hands. Also, they lived in 19th Century England.
More often than not, I will hear an entrance theme and distract myself from the lyrics. Of course, wrestling songs do not have to be sophisticated and deep works of audible art, but would it kill WWE and Jim Johnston to produce a catchy tune with equally catchy lyrics? According to myself, my request would most likely kill WWE and Jim Johnston. My idea is not their idea. Thus, Vince McMahon does not like it.
Kenna's "Out of Control" is a simple song with simple, unforgettable lyrics. I am not saying this song is the next "Sexy Boy," but once again, this theme would be perfect for a WWE Diva. This song could be the "Sexy Boy" of WWE Diva entrance themes. In 2009, I will settle for the "Planet Stasiak" of WWE Diva entrance themes. Actually, "Planet Stasiak" was an excellent song. If you heard it at the right time of day, you felt like you were on Planet Stasiak. Statues of knights are everywhere. You either run into them or you miss one and run into another.
Busta Rhymes busts many things. On a usual workday, he busts rhymes. For instance, he busts many a rhyme on "Don't Touch Me (Throw Da Water On 'Em)," a fast-paced rap song that could be performed by the speed-talking guy from the Micro Machines commercials (if he rapped... professionally). Now that WWE provides kid-friendly programming, I doubt they would want this song on their shows for it denounces non-threatening physical contact, such as hugging, and glorifies throwing water on things that do not necessarily need copious amounts of water thrown on them. This song needs a double dose of Don't Try This public service announcements.
Despite the high quality of the song, I struggle to come up with a wrestler who will benefit from having it as his or her theme. I want to say that the song would fit Kane, but I want to say Kane just to see the Big Red Machine act like Busta Rhymes. First, Kane will rap really fast, then come stomping down the ramp in front of a camera with a fish eye lens. He will drink Courvoisier under a pool table with Kelly Kelly (I am okay with her participation because I am not a jealous lover). And finally, if he is willing, Kane will fashion the stubble on the top of his head to look like carrot roots. I'm waiting, Kane.
In my four years as a world famous, professional wrestling analyst, I fought many foes to this epic, pulse-pounding song from the opera Carmina Burana. As the creator of The Swerved, you get many fans, but you get just as many enemies. With one hand tied behind one leg tied behind one of my backs, I wrestled a two-headed dragon to death. That dragon criticized my writing style. How dare he express his opinion. Two years ago, I killed a phoenix on top of a bear under a porcupine who shot bullets instead of needles. A week later, I fought the Rory McAllister of the Highlanders on Heat. I lost by countout.
In other words, Carl Orff's "O Fortuna" will turn any normal, cowardly man into a superhuman, brave warrior. You could be a warrior to the ultimate degree. That's right; you could be Rory McAllister of the Highlanders. There can only be one Rory McAllister of the Highlanders. Through "O Fortuna," you could be him. Good luck.
Due to the onscreen debut of "Land of Five Rivers," perhaps The Great Khali does not need another fantastic tune. To me, no entrance theme in the modern WWE rivals "Land of Five Rivers," except for Santino Marella's "La Vittorio e Mia." Regardless, Egyptian music producer Hossam Ramzy and Abdul Halim Hafiz bring the goods, services, and goodly services with "Khusara Khusara." Are you big pimpin' and or spending cheese? They are.
If I became a full-time professional wrestler in World Wrestling Entertainment, "Khusara Khusara" would be my entrance theme, despite the fact that the song does not fit my gimmick at all (power-hungry botanist). At WrestleMania, my big entrance would consist of the entire arena, rocking out on the flute as I arrive on a chariot pulled by lovely ladies in bikinis. Those ladies would play the flute as well. I want my ladies to multi-task.
Monday, February 09, 2009
The Swerved Presents: Dream Match the 60th
Edge (c) vs. Mr. Green vs. Mrs. Peacock vs. Miss Scarlet vs. Professor Plum vs. Mrs. White
Use your rope to commit crimes in the library
Yeah, I'm suspecting, it's the man in green
He killed Mr. Boddy in the non-fiction section, then left the scene
Saw the bloody footprints near the wooden shelves
Or am I in the Study?
Not sure, don't know this place too well
Yeah, never gonna disprove my suggestion
Never gonna disprove
Never gonna disprove my suggestion
Never gonna disprove
Never gonna disprove my suggestion
Never gonna disprove
Never gonna disprove my suggestion
Never gonna disprove
Yeah, there's the professor, in the dining room
Wears purple suits, looks so suspicious,
Eating dinner at a quarter 'till noon
But then there's the ladies, acting kind of shady
Put a wrench in their plans before they come out to get me
Yeah, never gonna disprove my suggestion
Never gonna disprove
Never gonna disprove my suggestion
Never gonna disprove
Never gonna disprove my suggestion
Never gonna disprove
Never gonna disprove my suggestion
Never gonna disprove
The Question:
Who wins and how?
*****
NEXT WEEK
Entrances from me to you.
AND
Some people say that rappers are invincible. We're vincible.
The Audible - Voices: WWE The Music, Volume 9
Great original theme music is a rarity, much like sightings of the Loch Ness Monster, Big Foot, and Randy "The Macho Man" Savage on current WWE programming. In another life, perhaps I would save the business as wrestling's best theme composer, but I don't think the galaxy is ready for that level of greatness. Like any wrestling fan, I want to hear a good theme. When I listen to a quality entrance theme, my appreciation for the industry and its personalities becomes greater than before. When I listen to a horrible entrance theme, I cower in the corner, ashamed of the audible product that the wrestling world produces before me. In the past, World Wrestling Entertainment got it right with memorable songs for D-Generation, The Rock, and Stone Cold Steve Austin. In 2009, what do they give us? I will help you find out.
Last month, WWE released their ninth entrance theme collection under the name of Voices. Wrestling music master Jim Johnston composed, wrote, and produced these voices. In turn, I shall hear them out. Judging from the evolution of his work throughout the years, I commend Jim Johnston for his ability to match colourful songs to colourful characters, though I have my concerns. For every gem that Jim Johnston produces, he creates a dud. He is no music superhero. While I know that the glory days of the Attitude Era are through, I think Johnston and World Wrestling Entertainment have the potential to turn their wrestling music ship around towards listenable waters. They will never match brilliance of the now theme, but can they at least be as great as the theme to the lWo?
In WWE The Music, Volume 9, mine ears will bare witness to themes for such superstars as Randy Orton, Jack Swagger, and Kelly Kelly. For those of you who have been following The Swerved, you are probably aware that I am not easy to please. I will give props--mad and not so mad--for songs that I deem worthy of repeat listens. As for the rest of them, I plan to be not so kind. I have a fine tooth comb. Let me scour this album to see if it is music gold, or a music abomination. Will you join me in my quest to find the audible, holy grail of professional wrestling? I hope so. I packed too many sandwiches for the trip. I don’t like egg salad that much.
As a quick note, music is subjective, but my views are gospel. Force my opinions onto others and I will shower you with many glorious gifts that cost up to and including five dollars. I know a good song when I hear one, so you should know a good review when you read one. Without further delay, let us stop. Let us collaborate. Finally, let us listen.
Randy Orton suffers from Intermittent explosive disorder (IED), which means that at random times throughout a regular day, he feels the need to kick a member of the McMahon family in the face. If I had this slow-paced, intimidating theme song, I would want to kick a McMahon in the face all the time. I would like Shane in the face as he uses the bathroom. I would Stephanie in the face while she feeds her children. As for Vince and Linda McMahon, I would kick of both of them in the face at the same time as they pretend to not loathe each other's company at the dinner table. With this song, I would not have Intermittent explosive disorder. I would have Frequent McMahon face-kicking desires (FMFKD).
For one, "Voices" is an upgrade from Mercy Drive's "Burn In My Light," an uplifting tune akin to the jingles of drug awareness advertisements on a Saturday morning. Hey, nothing you say can make me try these marijuana cigarettes. I don't want my brain to look like fried eggs for fried eggs are a scrumptious breakfast treat for all ages. The 2009 Randy Orton is like a slow-motion version of Stone Cold Steve Austin. Orton will kick your ass, ever so slowly. Me likes it.
Do you like to dance in sweaty French discotheques as sparkly townspeople in berets judge your moves from afar? Are you the kind of person who loves music that you cannot understand? Are you The Miz? If so, you will dig Maryse's Europop-inspired tune. In this song, a robotic French bread maker asks the viewer many a question, most of which concern the topic of Maryse's supermodel looks. If I learned anything from this song, I learned that robotic French bread makers are dependent individuals who require a second opinion from an impartial person in order to validate or deny their original viewpoint.
The next time Maryse shows up to your door, whips her head back in a sexually seductive manner, and asks you to fly with her to France to visit a bakery, do not go with her. You shall be tricked by the robotic French bread maker. Tell him his sourdough is not sour enough. He will end you.
The pipe organ is an ominous instrument, similar to a kazoo full of poisonous snakes and an oboe that has been touched by a really creepy oboist. When Kane debuted with manager Paul Bearer at Badd Blood 1997, his theme chilled my spine, despite the fact that my back was nowhere near the refrigerator at that time. With "Man on Fire," the old Kane and the new Kane unite to signal the entrance of the palest monster in World Wrestling Entertainment today.
In my opinion, the current version of Kane is either Casper the Ghost's shirtless uncle, or the Pillsbury Doughboy's shirtless uncle. No matter how you see it, Kane is the pale, shirtless uncle of a nephew or two. Every night before I go to bed, I pray that Kane will not burst through my door and Chokeslam me down to the underworld. My last pale, shirtless uncle tried to do that to me once. Guess what happened to him? I don't know. He's from an estranged side of the family. Our side wears shirts when we use the Chokeslam.
As a world-renowned, kung fu master myself, Kung Fu Naki offends me. To be honest, I am not offended by much. Sometimes, butterflies will flutter by me in the summer time and give me the finger, but other than those instances, I am a tolerant human being. In the case of Kung Fu Naki and his Carl Douglas-inspired theme entitled "Kung Fu San," I want to fight it. I want to fight it on a shaky bridge, one hundred feet above a bed of spears. I want to rip out its head, then raise it in bloody victory as the announcer declares me the winner. I know that I often criticize WWE's abuse of the nu metal entrance theme, but if "Kung Fu San” is the alternative, bring me Papa Roach. In fact, bring me his lady friend, Mama Roach.
At one point in the song, Karl Jenkins claims that "you gotta believe he (Kung Fu Naki) wasn't born in Milwaukee." I don't have to believe anything you say, "Dice Raw." Kung Fu Naki lived in Milwaukee for three years. He worked at a cheese factory. He was much happier there. Believe you me, Karl Jenkins.
Kelly Kelly is the tambourine player of my family band, yet she never tells me the truth about her theme song. One day, as we ran sound checks in the grass mountains of Switzerland, I asked Kelly Kelly about "Holla." I said, "Are you sure your song starts with the words 'Holla, Holla, Holla,' Kelly? It sure sounds like 'Hello, Hello, Hello.'" In response, Kelly rolled her eyes at me. You know how stubborn passionate lovers can be. What a tambourine playing harlot. I will forgive her, but I don't know where her tambourine has been. Did Test touch it? Gross, sick, sickly gross, and grossly sick.
Kelly Kelly's "Holla" mixes the poppy sounds of Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, and S Club 7 into one catchy, girly theme. The S Club 7 is long gone, but not for me, Broseph. Not for me. If I ran World Wrestling Entertainment, S Club 7 would be rocking WrestleMania XXV. Triple H would join them as their eighth member. Their show, S Club 7 in Stamford, would be tremendous. Imagine eight Pedigrees at once, choreographed to perfection. You’re imagining heaven.
People over there, what's up? Apparently, Ron Killings likes to ask the same question over and over again, but he uses vague descriptions to do so. "Guy in the hat who looks kind of my friend Reginald if he shaved most of his beard, what's up?" In his raptastic song, R-Truth assures the listeners that they can get with this, and they can get with that. "Hey, there's that thing over there and it sort of looks like a round thing, but also a square thing, yet also a diamond-shaped slash hexagonal object. Do you wish to go there and do things over there with that thing?" I think I would enjoy this theme if he was more specific with his directions.
Whether you believe me or not, R-Truth is trying to trick us. I bet the moment you get with this, or that, he hits you in the face with a paint can on the string. Never trust a man who wrestled for TNA. Don't even trust TNA. Their initials will bait and switch you.
In short, Vladimir Kozlov's "Pain" is both a good and a bad theme. For the first twenty seconds or so, this song is marchilicious. Marchilicious def, marchilicious def, marchilicious definition make the fans walk in single file. I dare you to listen to the first twenty seconds without marching in a Russian manner. As for the rest of the theme, you'll be listening to typical rock guitar sounds. World Wrestling Entertainment should have looped the start of his theme. I decipher WWE's refusal to loop his song as an insult to my ears, nose, and in dire cases, throat. They could have had something special, but then they threw it all away to make life easier for themselves.
As long as The Swerved is around, they will not rest until they get it right. Vladimir uses his head to ram his opponents to death. Why can't WWE use their heads to make a listenable theme for him? Unbelievable, ladies and gentlemen. From this point forward, Kozlov will sport an expression of disgust.
Oh, no they didn't. Shoot. World Wrestling Entertainment is Bollywooding "The Punjabi Playboy" up, and I can't get enough of it. The old Khali used the Vice Grip to finish off his opponents, but the new Khali uses his Vice Grip on the ladies’... lady parts. You know they're loving it. They can't resist the charms of the man from Get Smart. Khali threw Terence Stamp off a bridge, but now he wants to throw the ladies onto his bridge. I don't know what I just said, but I'm pretty sure it's perverted.
In my wildest of Indian dreams, I never thought Khali had it in him to show the world that he has low standards when it comes to women. In the end, he set me right. He set all of us right. His goats are taunting us right now. I hope you’re happy. Ranjin Singh's sideburns are DJing this taunting party. I don't know if we're invited, but I'm guessing we're not. Lake Huron, Lake Ontario, Lake Michigan, Lake Erie, and Lake Superior are five lakes, not rivers. We screwed up the secret entrance code.
Eve Torres was the winner of the 2007 WWE Diva Search. What has she done since her victory? She has looked good. Michelle McCool has several problems with Eve, but most of all, she is jealous that Eve looks good. When wrestling fans try to fish for compliments for Eve, they must admit that for the majority of time she has been with WWE, she has looked good.
For me, I cannot claim that she looks bad for that would be a lie. What about her wrestling talent, you ask? Well, she looks good. What about her personality and charisma, you say? Once again, she looks good. As the sun sets over the horizon, and day turns into night, Eve's appearance will tell you many facts about her. Fact number one: she looks good. Fact number two: when she looks good, people tell her that she looks good. Fact number three: in reaction to her bland alternative rock theme, she looks good. Simply put, Eve is tremendous. Also, she looks good.
Jack Swagger, the current ECW Champion, is the face of a brand that boasts a total roster of over ten wrestlers. Therefore, Jack Swagger is the best ECW Champion of a brand that boasts a total of over ten wrestlers that I have ever seen. If Rage Against the Machine fought for All-American Americans and not worthy causes in a rocking way, you would get Age Against the Machine and their song entitled "Get On Your Knees." Like Mary Tyler Moore, Jack Swagger can turn the world on with his smile. I would not say he's particularly talented on the microphone, but with a smile like that, does it matter?
In the fairytale in my head, the Cheshire Cat from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland had an interspecies relationship with Gary Busey. Together, they brought Jack Swagger into the world. Why ruin his ascent to the top of WWE with a bad theme when you can listen to a second-rate, carbon copy of Rage Against the Machine? Throw your title in the air, Swagger. You’re a single, working woman in New York City. The belt doesn't look oversized at all.
I'm going to say it. I'm just going to say it. Smackdown's "If You Rock Like Me" is the type of song that comes after "Burn In My Light" in the Saturday morning, educational commercial block. If "Burn In My Light" urges children not to smoke dope, "If You Rock Like Me" teaches little girls and boys to stand up for themselves by walking away from a fight. Those bullies aren't worth the bloody knuckles, Tobias. Keep your head up and your fists down. When you feel as though you are in trouble, inform a teacher or parental guardian.
I'm not a Marilyn Manson fan by any stretch of the stretchy imagination, but "The Beautiful People" was ten times better than this Smackdown theme. I don't want WWE to entertain and educate me at the same time. I want to take on those bullies, man. They took my sesame seed crackers. They took all of them. They must pay with their young lives.
The Samoan Bulldozer is back and more Samoan and bulldozer-y than ever before. Umaga's "Tribal Trouble" is such an exotic theme that it reminds me of my excursion to the isle of Samoa. I met many professional wrestlers in the isle of Samoa, most of whom did not know how to speak English. In order to respond to English questions, they would crack one coconut shell open for yes, and two coconut shells for no. Although some had excellent motor skills, they were poor players in the game of Pictionary. I would not pick to them to be members of my Pictionary team, unless it was absolutely, positively necessary.
When I left the isle of Samoa, the wrestlers warned me of a new performer who would take the throne as the greatest Samoan wrestler competing today. Umaga turned out to be that man. I thought they were talking about Prince Iaukea. They have television, but their programs are several years behind.
I never liked the name "Priceless," nor the theme. I get it, screechy entrance theme. They are priceless, but you know what? Priceless people, places, and things do not exist. Hence, Ted DiBiase and Cody Rhodes are not alive in my world. If they are, their suggested retailed price is reasonable at best and costly at worst. In this economy, prices tend to fluctuate, much like the existence of Ted DiBiase and Cody Rhodes in my world. Now that the duo has rid themselves of Manu and Sim Snuka, also known as Manu and Sim Snuka, their prices have improved.
I estimate that the price of Ted DiBiase is thirty-five cents. As for Cody Rhodes, he costs twenty-four cents because he is lighter. Also, Ted DiBiase will star in the sequel to The Marine. I'm not sure if that increases his price of not. Once he saves John Triton's wife from another guy from the Terminator films, I will gain a better understanding of his exact price.
Monday, February 02, 2009
The Swerved Presents: Dream Match the 59th
John Cena vs. O-Town
Chains and black steel surrounding me, I'm lost in a structure with Johnny C
Every night he wrestles me, and gives me the stepover toehold facelocks I need
Now this hustler, he embodies respect and loyalty
He's a twelve-round dream from a straight-to-video action scene
And he's so sweet, he five-knuckle shuffles old ladies across the street
He's a superhuman, lover/fighter from West Newbury
I think about a guy who's a mix of Kevin Bacon
With a resemblance to Affleck's best friend Matt Damon
If the actor had a look-alike cousin, throw in the voice of Mark Wahlberg
You've got the winner of my chamber dream
Who wins and how?
*****
NEXT WEEK
I hear voices in the voices in my head.
AND
This is not a love story. It's a story about love.
The Swerved Recordings: Shane McMahon
Shane McMahon is a part-time wrestler, but once in a while, he’s a full-time ass kicker. According to my experiences, ass kicking never takes a holiday when Shane McMahon is around. The following objects are not safe in the presence of one Shane O'Mac: King of the Ring panes of glass, packing peanuts, Styrofoam, couch cushions, pillows, children's ball pits, and wrestlers' faces. This past week on RAW, Shane proved why he is the best pound-for-pound fighter in the entire WWE when he feels like showing up and doing stuff. Forget about the Big Show and his super incredible punch that knocks everyone out so much that the wind of his punch creates hurricanes off the coast of Costa Rica. The Undertaker, with his ability to MMA-fight his opponents to death, does not hold a candle to Shane McMahon. In fact, the Undertaker is eight candle holders short of a decorative menorah.
When Vince McMahon gets kicked in the head for being a power-hungry maniac, Shane McMahon comes to the rescue to avenge his father's one millionth, near-death accident. When Stephanie McMahon can't get her way, which prevents her from acting like the most confident, authoritative, and independent woman to exist since Beyoncé, her older brother steps in to give her some much needed, Greenwich, Connecticut street credibility. Beyoncé... is Sasha Fierce, but Shane McMahon... is Sasha Fiercer. When Linda McMahon takes away the name from John Cena's patented finishing move, Shane McMahon appears, looks important, presses some buttons on a futuristic-looking control board of buttons, and magically makes wrestling fans forget about the F-U. Did you know that if you lined up a thousand Shane McMahons on their backs, end-to-end, you would cover approximately sixty-four percent of the country of Belize? In the past, I tried to do the same with the other McMahons, but they were insufficient at best.
In 2009, Shane McMahon plans to dominate many people, places, and things. Therefore, watch out, nouns and pronouns. As Shane takes over the business with his unique, interesting brand of wrestling, he shall rule the music airwaves as well. Of course, The Swerved Recordings is here to help him rule. The Swerved Recordings, a successful music label based out of Swerved City, Swervedsylvania, was established in 2006 and continues to be an influential force in the industry to this day. Previous albums by talented artists like Vince McMahon, The Great Khali , and William Regal sold between zero and three billion records worldwide. The songstress herself, Vickie Guerrero, released an album that somehow saved Nicaraguan children from a collapsed schoolhouse once. With The Swerved Recordings behind Shane McMahon, get ready to be wowed. I hope you're unsatisfied with your current skin colour. If you are, The Swerved Recordings is going to colour you surprised.
Without further delay, let The Swerved Recordings show you the new Shane McMahon. When he is not standing in place, he's exerting himself in a physical manner. What does this mean exactly? Shane McMahon is "Huffin' 'n Puffin'."
Shane McMahon - "Huffin' 'n Puffin
Shane's new album features fifteen masterful songs, recorded from atop a WWE entrance set, high above a strategically placed crash pad with a waiting Test or Steve Blackman below. Sometimes, Shane sounds like he is wheezing on the CD, as if he not in great physical shape, but just ignore that sounds. If anything, I bet you have a bad MP3 player. Yeah, that's a perfectly believable explanation for the wheezing. Good one, self.
On select tracks, the salt-and-pepper-haired one has invited the Mormon Tabernacle Choir to serve as his background singers. The Mormon Tabernacle Choir is not a choir for everyone, but you must admire their love for Shane McMahon's talent to resemble copious amounts of American currency whenever he walks to the ring. You may circulate the money when he arrives, but please refrain from exchanging those bills for change. Shane McMahon is made out of money, yet does not care for dimes or nickels. According to his entrance theme, he wears a cologne called "Brand New Money." Shane McMahon is a walking pile of money who likes to smell like money. When people see him on the street, they perceive him to be a frugal gentleman. Shady criminals attempt to stuff his body parts into duffel bags, but they do so with an underlying sense of guilt.
Track Listing:
1. Huffin 'n Puffin' (I'll Blow Your Second Generation Houses Down)
2. Sister from My Mister (ft. Stephanie McMahon)
3. Get Out of My Way, Kofi Kingston (I'm Trying to Be Hardcore Awesome Here)
4. Check Out My Improvised Explosive Devices
5. Not Randy for Orton
6. Nerf Hands
7. In Your Face, I See Beatings
8. McMahon Jam
9. Your Precious Oxygen is My Precious Oxygen
10. Pricefull
11. Here Come The Stunnies
12. Shane-O Insano
13. Cotton Candy Suspenders
14. Why You Gotta Be Like That, Kofi Kingston? (I Don't Discriminate Against People Who Are Supposedly From Jamaican, But You're Pushing It, You Know)
15. Ruthless, Aggressive Breathing
The Swerved Recordings does not exaggerate when we claim that critics dig "Huffin' 'n Puffin’." In most cases, critics love the album more than they love their own children. One time, I saw this one critic from Rolling Stone Magazine, feeding the album some grapes while he bashed his son over the head with the jewel case. If that visual does not scream love, I don't know the meaning of love. All that I can comprehend is everlasting pain. Nevertheless, wrestling fans should be ecstatic to know that Shane breathes so hard on "Huffin' 'n Puffin’" that he emits carbon dioxide for every tree in the world. He is a giver, not a taker. Remember that fact when he stumbles while he shuffles.
"Greatest chill-out album ever. I'm wearing a shirt, but I don't feel obligated to wear a sweater vest. How convenient." - Mean Street Posse
"An audible, swift soccer kick to the head... in a figurative sense." - Randy Orton
"We have bigger plans for you, Randy Orton. Don't change the subject. My mother wants to wrestle you in the Elimination Chamber." - Stephanie McMahon
"Did I hear an echo? Hot dog in a hallway, Steph. Hot dog in a hallway." -
Randy Orton (again)
"Shane McMahon is the European Champion of huffing and puffing. Now, would you like to buy this energy drink I store in my pants?" - X-Pac
"Music to my ears; I don't know what else to call it. Music is meant for listening. I listen to the music with my ears." - Logical Thinker
"Thanks for loving me so much." - Oxygen
"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. Yay, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, except for Mr. McMahon and his disciple. Mr. McMahon, whose tan, well-toned body, supersedes that of a normal, sixty-year-old, whose mighty grapefruits produced the life-giving semen that spawned me... Dad, this is getting weird." - Shane McMahon
This spring, Shane McMahon will visit an anthropomorphic pig in a straw house. In a heavy breathing session, McMahon will accidentally inhale the entire house. Next, Shane McMahon will venture to a house of sticks, where a second anthropomorphic pig is reading Time Magazine. After beating up the house, he will inhale the sticks in the process. Before a house of bricks, Shane McMahon will break down the walls with left and right hands. The bricks will stay put on the ground because Shane McMahon's breathing isn’t that powerful. I mean, think about it. Really, man. Those bricks aren’t light.
The Swerved Recordings'
Shane McMahon - "Huffin' 'n Puffin'"
In stores when Kofi Kingston gets out of the way. Get out of the way, Kofi Kingston. You're blocking the album-purchasing shelves.
When Vince McMahon gets kicked in the head for being a power-hungry maniac, Shane McMahon comes to the rescue to avenge his father's one millionth, near-death accident. When Stephanie McMahon can't get her way, which prevents her from acting like the most confident, authoritative, and independent woman to exist since Beyoncé, her older brother steps in to give her some much needed, Greenwich, Connecticut street credibility. Beyoncé... is Sasha Fierce, but Shane McMahon... is Sasha Fiercer. When Linda McMahon takes away the name from John Cena's patented finishing move, Shane McMahon appears, looks important, presses some buttons on a futuristic-looking control board of buttons, and magically makes wrestling fans forget about the F-U. Did you know that if you lined up a thousand Shane McMahons on their backs, end-to-end, you would cover approximately sixty-four percent of the country of Belize? In the past, I tried to do the same with the other McMahons, but they were insufficient at best.
In 2009, Shane McMahon plans to dominate many people, places, and things. Therefore, watch out, nouns and pronouns. As Shane takes over the business with his unique, interesting brand of wrestling, he shall rule the music airwaves as well. Of course, The Swerved Recordings is here to help him rule. The Swerved Recordings, a successful music label based out of Swerved City, Swervedsylvania, was established in 2006 and continues to be an influential force in the industry to this day. Previous albums by talented artists like Vince McMahon, The Great Khali , and William Regal sold between zero and three billion records worldwide. The songstress herself, Vickie Guerrero, released an album that somehow saved Nicaraguan children from a collapsed schoolhouse once. With The Swerved Recordings behind Shane McMahon, get ready to be wowed. I hope you're unsatisfied with your current skin colour. If you are, The Swerved Recordings is going to colour you surprised.
Without further delay, let The Swerved Recordings show you the new Shane McMahon. When he is not standing in place, he's exerting himself in a physical manner. What does this mean exactly? Shane McMahon is "Huffin' 'n Puffin'."
Shane's new album features fifteen masterful songs, recorded from atop a WWE entrance set, high above a strategically placed crash pad with a waiting Test or Steve Blackman below. Sometimes, Shane sounds like he is wheezing on the CD, as if he not in great physical shape, but just ignore that sounds. If anything, I bet you have a bad MP3 player. Yeah, that's a perfectly believable explanation for the wheezing. Good one, self.
On select tracks, the salt-and-pepper-haired one has invited the Mormon Tabernacle Choir to serve as his background singers. The Mormon Tabernacle Choir is not a choir for everyone, but you must admire their love for Shane McMahon's talent to resemble copious amounts of American currency whenever he walks to the ring. You may circulate the money when he arrives, but please refrain from exchanging those bills for change. Shane McMahon is made out of money, yet does not care for dimes or nickels. According to his entrance theme, he wears a cologne called "Brand New Money." Shane McMahon is a walking pile of money who likes to smell like money. When people see him on the street, they perceive him to be a frugal gentleman. Shady criminals attempt to stuff his body parts into duffel bags, but they do so with an underlying sense of guilt.
1. Huffin 'n Puffin' (I'll Blow Your Second Generation Houses Down)
2. Sister from My Mister (ft. Stephanie McMahon)
3. Get Out of My Way, Kofi Kingston (I'm Trying to Be Hardcore Awesome Here)
4. Check Out My Improvised Explosive Devices
5. Not Randy for Orton
6. Nerf Hands
7. In Your Face, I See Beatings
8. McMahon Jam
9. Your Precious Oxygen is My Precious Oxygen
10. Pricefull
11. Here Come The Stunnies
12. Shane-O Insano
13. Cotton Candy Suspenders
14. Why You Gotta Be Like That, Kofi Kingston? (I Don't Discriminate Against People Who Are Supposedly From Jamaican, But You're Pushing It, You Know)
15. Ruthless, Aggressive Breathing
The Swerved Recordings does not exaggerate when we claim that critics dig "Huffin' 'n Puffin’." In most cases, critics love the album more than they love their own children. One time, I saw this one critic from Rolling Stone Magazine, feeding the album some grapes while he bashed his son over the head with the jewel case. If that visual does not scream love, I don't know the meaning of love. All that I can comprehend is everlasting pain. Nevertheless, wrestling fans should be ecstatic to know that Shane breathes so hard on "Huffin' 'n Puffin’" that he emits carbon dioxide for every tree in the world. He is a giver, not a taker. Remember that fact when he stumbles while he shuffles.
"Greatest chill-out album ever. I'm wearing a shirt, but I don't feel obligated to wear a sweater vest. How convenient." - Mean Street Posse
"An audible, swift soccer kick to the head... in a figurative sense." - Randy Orton
"We have bigger plans for you, Randy Orton. Don't change the subject. My mother wants to wrestle you in the Elimination Chamber." - Stephanie McMahon
"Did I hear an echo? Hot dog in a hallway, Steph. Hot dog in a hallway." -
Randy Orton (again)
"Shane McMahon is the European Champion of huffing and puffing. Now, would you like to buy this energy drink I store in my pants?" - X-Pac
"Music to my ears; I don't know what else to call it. Music is meant for listening. I listen to the music with my ears." - Logical Thinker
"Thanks for loving me so much." - Oxygen
"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. Yay, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, except for Mr. McMahon and his disciple. Mr. McMahon, whose tan, well-toned body, supersedes that of a normal, sixty-year-old, whose mighty grapefruits produced the life-giving semen that spawned me... Dad, this is getting weird." - Shane McMahon
This spring, Shane McMahon will visit an anthropomorphic pig in a straw house. In a heavy breathing session, McMahon will accidentally inhale the entire house. Next, Shane McMahon will venture to a house of sticks, where a second anthropomorphic pig is reading Time Magazine. After beating up the house, he will inhale the sticks in the process. Before a house of bricks, Shane McMahon will break down the walls with left and right hands. The bricks will stay put on the ground because Shane McMahon's breathing isn’t that powerful. I mean, think about it. Really, man. Those bricks aren’t light.
Shane McMahon - "Huffin' 'n Puffin'"
In stores when Kofi Kingston gets out of the way. Get out of the way, Kofi Kingston. You're blocking the album-purchasing shelves.
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