your WWE SMACKDOWN WORKRATE REPORT- 9/11/2003!
Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen and down the mountain side
The summer's gone and all the roses dying
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bye
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
And I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy I love you so
But if he come and all the roses dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
He'll come here and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an ava there for me
And I shall feel, oh soft you tread above me
And then my grave will richer, sweeter be
For you will bend and tell me that you love me
And I shall rest in peace until you come to me
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It's 9/11 and was gonna wait to do this tomorrow but I got bored and- fuck- if I can't make jokes about shaved and studded cooters and jacking off to fake titties then I really can't say that I am free and doing what I can to keep a cold, steady, hatefilled gaze as we move on as a nation. I missed the first fifteen minutes because it was getting to the cool part of "Snake in the Monkey's Shadow" where the Drunken Master is killed by the two Snake Style assassins and the hero must find a way beat them. It took me a while to finally start taping but I watched the last half hour in real time so I'll prolly go with that first. I am motherfucking WILD. WILDE~! MY NAME IS WYLDE~! (Whorulon AND the Baron return next week.)
WHAT WORKED-
- APA wrestled guys who would bump enough to make their comical attempts at wrestling watchable. Bradshaw should save the cowboy boots for erotic supllimentation to the shower stall enemas and get some boots that he can actually run the ropes in. There were............................... forearms. These forearms... they.... they were... were... cl....cl....cl...cl...clubbing. GOD HELP ME! All they did was club. Shannon Moore would go for a backdrop- clubbing forearms. Ron Simmons would go on offense- clubbing forearms. The forearms- broken, empty, lifeless- lived it's pathetic life to crawl from the bowels of hell AND WALK THE EARTH to do one thing... to club. Sweet ass lariat by Bradshaw. Bruce, the APA butler comes out and they chug beer like pussies. Bradshaw is happy with the butler eventhough the butler brought these so-called tough guys LITE beer. What a couple of ass-grabbing fanny boys. What were they out of Zima? Wrong kind of mineral water for a proper Acolyte Wine Spritzer? Champagne in the back too domestic for the Asses Pounded By The APA Mimosas? Upside is that after the butler showers, Bradshaws wrist may have smelt of Lite beer and butler ass. Who could be sure?
- Rhyno and Benoit work all stiff for a few minutes. Rhyno is the most underrated guy on Smackdown. He takes the bumps to get the match over with us rubes. I cannot possibly say anything about Benoit that I haven't slatheringly said before. Hey, a commercial! They wrestle a few more minutes. I love a superplex and Benoit has been in some of my favorite superplexes- Eddy/Benoit on WCWSN in 95, Lyger/Pegasus kid where Lyger first began trying to kill every Canadian he ever wrestled with something HIDEOUS off the toprope. Benoit actually sells the back in the Scorpion Deathlock, making up for last weeks atrocious A-Train match. Benoit with the Sharpshooter brought back memories of other Canadians that were great motherfucking wrestlers. Benoit sells the back after one German and all is forgiven for last week. SWWEEET reversal of the Superplex into a powerbomb. God, this match is rockin' it. Gore Gore GORE reversed into a crossface and we have fine wrestling coming to an end.
- GODDAMMIT SHANNON! EVERYBODY KNOWS MATT FUCKING HARDY WANTS EXTRA PULP! MOTHERFUCKER! Bradshaw talks about getting things out of Matt's ass and Matt should become quite worried. The match is on, APA toast the dead and we get on with our night of wrestling.
WHAT DIDN'T WORK-
- Torrie, Nidia and Dawn Marie speak of rubbing their titties together to generate static electricity to shoot out an electro-lacto-beam to stop Shaniqua and teenage boys blow lightning quick loads over their X-Boxes straight onto their Justin Timberlake cds (or whatever you young punks listen to these days. IN MY DAY WE LISTENED TO ECHO AND THE BUNNYMEN BECAUSE WE WERE MEN!!! LOVING KIND MEN WHO TORE UP SOME PUSSY AND BEAT SOME ASS! Faiiiith... up against your wiii-iiillllll, between the thick and thiiiiiiin.... you will wait untii-iiilll....) The three flat assed white girls can't handle a strong sistah so fuck awlllll 'em.
- Stephanie and Sable talk about Steph wrestling to keep her job and I was thinking that Steph would be touching Sable's Grecian-formulaed cooch right before they solve a crime commited by Shannon Tweed but that was just a Cinemax flashback and I apologize to everyone involved.
- I'm actually digging Lesnar the 1986 Dallas Cowboy Coked Up Linebacker but come on! That's Joe Gomez you're in the ring with, you gotta sell SOMETHING for him. And why does Vince force his audience to always have to concentrate on his dick every week- either by showing Vince right before Sable is trying to suck some mileage out of his spongy member- or this week, where Vince is grabbing his junk after his daughter kicks him in the shriveled testicles. Maybe they think Vince's Dick As Focus Of Show is Effective Episodic Television or something.
- Eddy and Cena have a decent little parking lot fight but it loses for TWO giant reasons: 1.) It wasn't 1/23,000,000,000,000th as good as Regal vs Finlay on Nitro, and 2.) if you aren't going to be 1/23,000,000,000,000th as good as Regal/Finlay, you had BETTER bleed a fucking bucket of blood. THEY WENT THROUGH FUCKING WINDSHIELDS FACE FIRST. Cena hits a 1998 Hogan-Hit-In-The-Head-With Late-Great-Milftastic-Prototype-Miss-Elizabeth's-Shoe-level slight trickle of a bladejob. Fuck THAT. Glad Chavo's back. There.
- The Mullets sucked festering goat balls. If guys I work with who sport actual mullets saw that show and then saw those actors wandering at the Virginia State Fair, they would drag the Hollywood actors behind the elephant ear stand and sodomize them with a once bitten corndog. I'd still fuck Lonnie Anderson like there IS NO TOMORROW though. Yeah, fuck you.
THERE YOU HAVE IT.
DEAN.