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Hello, Swerved Nation. On the four-year anniversary of this blog, I bet you are wondering why you are reading these words, rather than watching strippers jump out of a cake. The answer is simple. For one, I do not appreciate strippers who are eager to ruin celebratory food. For two, I am afraid that this may not be the best time for an adult celebration. As the hilarious and informative memories come flooding back into your mind, hold onto them as if they were your children or most prized possessions. If you believe your children are your most prized possessions, that's fine. Whatever. I'm not here to judge. Let those memories tide you over as I embark on a new adventure. I have agreed to become a missionary.

When the Professional Wrestling Missionary Organization offered this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to me, I was thrilled. If you turn on the right kind of news, you will see men and women from all parts of the world, struggling to live happy and healthy lives. Originally, I thought my job was to teach clueless but eager lovers from Third World countries how to properly chain wrestling moves together until they ended up in the missionary position. Even though that is not my actual goal, I aim to impart the rest of my knowledge to them. First, I must consult my library of wrestling encyclopedias to uncover an aspect of the business that does not involve getting it on, but that shouldn't take long. I don't think those sections contain pictures.

In the event I do not make it back to this glorious sanctuary, I urge you to celebrate the four-year milestone on my behalf. Pin the tail to the donkey part of your choice. Spend as many seconds in the heavenly closet as you want. Do not let the DJ tell you when to throw your hands up in the air and shake it like a Shake Weight. Once the party dies down, all I ask is that you take care of my to-do list. As you can tell from this mighty list, I have many responsibilities. While I do not expect you to accomplish twenty tasks out of twenty, I believe in you. You are capable of knocking off a quarter of them (at the most).

Whatever happens, remember that The Swerved was the place we made together so that we could swerve one another. The most important part of my life was the time that I swerved with you. That's why all of us are here. Nobody swerves alone. I swerved you and you swerved me. Swervedspeed, my people.


1) Please take care of Kaitlyn for me. Since last week's episode of NXT, she has been recovering from Michelle McCool's kick of jealousy and hatred at my palatial estate. I know she appeared on SmackDown three days later showing no signs of pain or discomfort, but trust me. She was hurting on the inside. To pick up her spirits, I have let Kaitlyn give me several wedgies. I told her that each wedgie was stronger than the last, but that is a lie. The kick has weakened her, leaving my undergarments loosely wedged up my buttocks. It's not even bunching. I'm not sure how to break it to her.

2) Please urge R-Truth to stop telling people how to live their lives. At first, R-Truth only wanted know how and what we were doing with our ourselves. Now, he is forcing us to "knuckle up" and "get krunk." You are asking wrestling fans to engage in two physical activities — one of which involves acquiring an intangible item. I did not see either activity mentioned in the TV Guide summary for Friday Night SmackDown. Besides, Eve is already following your instructions. Why are you so demanding, Ron Killings? What is up with you?

3) Please tell Aladdin that is he is not alone anymore. The Undertaker's urn has returned. As of this moment, there are now two men who get ahead in life with the help of a mystical, golden container. Aladdin does not have to settle for Jasmine. Finally, he can date a woman who doesn't look like she could be his cousin or sister.

4) Please keep John Cena from using the dropkick ever again. World Wrestling Entertainment cannot afford to lose its top star to such a high risk, death-defying move. If he does the collar-and-elbow tie-up, hold him down until he learns how to cool those jets. Ground that purple and yellow, aerodynamic wonder.

5) Please instruct motorcycle helmet manufacturers to increase the density and thickness of their products. Lacey Von Erich has immediately recovered from helmet-assisted blows to the head long enough. Perhaps they should start modelling their helmets after the contents and shape of her sturdy cranium.

6) Please ask Vickie Guerrero about in-ring and out-of-ring boyfriends. I was under the impression that WWE romances weren't location specific. In particular, I want to know what happens if a woman's in-ring boyfriend makes it to the ropes at any point in the relationship. Is that relationship over, or does it continue until the counsellor can determine the winner?

7) Please tell TNA that lesbians are not always the answer. Disingenuous displays of girl-on-girl affection are capable of enlivening the following events: tractor pulls, taco restaurant grand openings, crew cut competitions, t.A.T.u. concerts, impromptu pillow fights, planned pillow fights, and slack fittings. Let it be known that I did not mention that these displays increase ratings or interest in a weekly, confusing wrestling show.

8) Please bury me in a glass case of cement. Use the fancy kind, not the store-bought brand. I see no blue on my collar. At my hairline, remember to stop pouring the liquid cement. Do not bury me any further or I cannot come back to life via unprecedented coffin resurrection at a later date.

9) Please congratulate MVP on regaining his sleeves. The VIP Lounge gets chilly in the Fall. I didn't want him to catch a cold. Thanks to sleeves, errbody in the club getting comfy.

10) Please take that brown suit jacket away from CM Punk. Before he became Batman, I'm pretty sure Bruce Wayne gave him that jacket in confidence. Now, I suspect Punk was warm the whole time. Batman and I are disappointed with his decision to wear the jacket for pleasure and business.

11) Please thank John Morrison for bringing parkour to WWE television. The stylish traversal of a diverse environment is the perfect way to distract people from the fact that you are an expert on hippopotamus breath. Apparently, you know hippopotamus breath so well that you can compare it to the breaths of other mammals. You could have just walked down that hallway, but no. You must think. The smoky and woody scent of that hippo's mouth air has inspired many an analogy.

12) Please note that Fourtune is my favourite wrestling stable of the past ten years. Well-dressed men who wear sunglasses indoors, give sexually suggestive shout outs to Matt Hardy with their hands, and don't know how to spell fortune are my kind of people. I'm over Ric Flair, though. Matt Hardy does not find four fingers any more pleasurable than three. I would even dare to say that the addition of the fourth finger would hurt Matt's special area.

13) Please help Jay Lethal live out better dreams. I don't care how you get it done. Maybe he needs a warmer glass of milk, or a larger number of sheep to count. No normal young man dreams of winning, then losing, then winning the fourth most important championship in the second largest promotion in North America by default. If he wants to dream small, he might as well dream about winning a free scratch ticket made possible by scratching his first ticket.

14) Please gussy up the Hell in a Cell before the Pay-Per-View. For years, this cell has been unfairly treated, written off as a cesspool of death and destruction. Recently, I purchased floral wallpaper and a matching living room set. All you need to do is buy a 50-inch, high-definition television with surround sound, silk drapes, a miniature refrigerator, and a framed portrait of the family to hang over the mantle. This portrait would feature the Hell in a Cell, the Kennel from Hell, the steel cage, the blue steel cage, and the Punjabi Prison (the black sheep of the family) posing together in knitted Christmas sweaters. Let us turn this hell into a home.

15) Please interrogate Ricardo Rodriguez. I want to know where he hid the bodies. If he tells you they were in Del Rio's piñata, tie him to the ceiling. Next, smack him across the face with a festive piñata stick until the truth comes out. Those piñatas were intended for fun purposes only.

16) Please weld two folding chairs together to accommodate Naomi's gargantuan buttocks. Folding chair technology will not improve itself. That way, she will be able to dedicate one seat to each cheek. World Wrestling Entertainment can charge her twice as if she is a fat person required to purchase two seats on an airplane.

17) Please give my regards to the Knockouts as they attempt to rule the Pay-Per-View world with TNA Mad Sexy: Volume 1. All night long, these sexy and sensual bombshells will wear next to nothing while angrily reacting to alarming discoveries. Watch The Beautiful People as they wash their car in skimpy bikinis, then find a parking ticket under the wiper blade of the windshield. Witness Madison Rayne and Tara give each other a sensual and somewhat uncomfortable massage before expressing their outrage at the rising prices of energy and oil. As an added bonus, the newly-acquired Mickie James will perform a striptease at a rally boycotting mediocre country music. TNA Mad Sexy: Volume 1 — rage has never been this sexy.

18) Please postpone my upcoming threesome with Ted DiBiase and Maryse. Your predictions were right. For the past few weeks, I was the one sending them romantic messages via piece of paper and Titantron screen. This might surprise you, but I never had simultaneous relations with a wealthy, second-generation wrestler and a French-Canadian woman before. I can only assume that simultaneous relations with a wealthy, French-Canadian wrestler and a second-generation woman does not compare. I have unchecked the box on my bucket list.

19) Please thank Cody Rhodes for his informative grooming tips. From this point forward, I have cut my average lap time in half. I do not know why his tips have turned me into a competitive swimmer. Regardless, he should be rest assured that my skin is as smooth and hairless as that of a super-hot baby.

20) Please tell my son that I want him back, but I still don't know how.