There is a reason for everything under the sun. I have more reasons. More logical reasons. Logical GOOD reasons. Fine fine reasons. Here's more...

MORE MORE MORE! More of my....
LITANY OF EXCUSES. Ah, it's WEDNESDAY. I was at Kareoke Friday and it set the stage for my whole weekend. Kareoke night kinda made feel all old and introspective because I'm old and becoming more introspective. I no longer tell the world to fuck off because I have kids that have to live in this world. I don't go out drinking and dancing and fighting and breaking shit anymore. I'm more like the guy who calls the police on those people when they are in my neighborhood because I got a one and half year old and a four year old- and if anyone wakes them up I will FUCKING KILL THEM WITH MY OWN GODAMMED HANDS! Anyway, going to Kareoke does these things to me. I don't know any of the new songs, every song I pick is from the 70s or 80s and it's a little thing but it triggered this whole weekend of stupid mid-thirty mini-midlife crisis. Anyway, I had to recover from a sloggy four days of being alone while my wife and kids went to my in-laws, so I spent Saturday and Sunday depressurizing and/or repressurizing as I got used to not being able to find the motherfucking four remote controls ever again or any of the tapes I making for Scott Mailman- as the quiet and order are replaced by rampaging children armed to the teeth with Barbie's Bridegroom Ken, Kelly accessories and more Barbie variations than Mattel could possibly sell. RIGHT?!? I also read HIGH FIDELITY Saturday afternoon/Sunday morning because I discovered that we had this book laying aboot the house while I was looking for these three Jack Wythe books for my wife to give to her mother when I picked them up. HIGH FIDELITY was a good book and it had a couple of cathartic moments with which I could identify. My favorite is when Rob goes to see Marie De Salle for the first time at the club and she is singing "Baby I love your Way" by Peter Frampton and Rob starts crying uncontrollably. When I was 25, after my girlfriend of four years left me, my friend Mike scored tickets to George Jones at the Mosque and I went. I remember being totally fine until he sang "He Stopped Loving Her Today" and I started crying and feeling stupid about crying the same way that Rob feels stupid about crying about a song. I realized that that could have been any song at that moment and that I would get all misty at the stupidest things because one is such a raw nerve at those moments.

Sunday - Went out and rented High Fidelity. This cool part of the book wasn't in the movie the same way- as Lisa Bonet sings the song as a backdrop to Rob meeting his friends. Actually, they kinda reduced and disguised the Marie De Salle character to such a point of insignificance that if Rob cries at her singing "Baby I Love Your Way" in the movie, it wouldn't have made sense. I guess that's why the book is usually better than the movie. The movie also misses on the cool ending of the book where every bit of Rob's transformation is orchestrated by Laura- as opposed to the added on part about Rob starting a record label for the skateboard guys, thus making it look like Rob is somehow concurrently trying to get his life together, which wasn't in the book. Other than that, the only real problem I had with the movie was that a.) they cut away too early from Jack Black singing "Let's Get It On" and b.) they cut out the coolest part of "I Believe When I Fall In Love (With You It Will Be Forever)" by Stevie wonder. After the beautiful, uplifting part about being in love, it gets back to what is TRULY great about 70s Stevie Wonder: It all boils down to fucking. The end of the song that cut off is just Stevie gearing up to get some while singing "C'mon let's fall in love- your the woman that I really adore." It makes it a perfect song. The spiritual part is satisfied then Stevie satisfies his physical side. Stevie Wonder was a fucking GREAT GREAT song-writer before he called to say he loved you. This song, "Boogie On Reggae Woman" and "Tell Me Something Good" are as carnal and sexually explicit as music gets. Stevie was great when he was pissed off at the world and Stevie was great when he was trying to get some pussy. Everything else he wrote after he got happy is pretty useless. Marvin Gaye- same way. Marvin could do the great thing of sounding sexy while being pissed off at the world at the same time (Yes, I heard "Trouble Man" on the Spinner today.)

Monday - I had the taped cued up and was actually gonna write it but I fell asleep at 10:00 but watched a very watchable half hour of Nitro. The Shannon Moore vs Chavo Guerrerro Jr match was perfectly fine, as was Lance Storm vs Billy Kidman.

Tuesday - I get a call from my friend Doyle. Every month or so- me, John, Barry and Doyle (all us married, all us have children) have a Rock Nerd Summit and sit around watch music videos of some sort. This time, Barry brought a KISS video he had from their farewell tour and- Jiminy!- are they old! We had a big discussion of their place in the annals of Hard Rock. I was saying that they are actually pretty underrated. They had one great record- Kiss Alive!- and couple other good records. Most people write them off as "total shit". I say only "partly shit". We agree on a lot of their placement- I said AC/DC was cooler and had better records (and went into a neat tangent of what would have happened if Bon Scott had never died. Barry said that he didn't see them ever getting as big as they did when BACK IN BLACK came out because of Bon Scott's voice. I agreed but ALSO I conjectured- like a MOTHAFUKKA~!- that since AC/DC had such complete punk cred when Bon Scott was still alive that they would have become like Motorhead- a hard rock band that would be eternally cool and could play mid sized arenas forever, if not ever getting overly big. I could see it.) I said Thin Lizzy was better and Black Sabbath was better. Barry brought up Cheap Trick and I told him that I didn't really think of Cheap Trick as a hard rock band because they have too much great pop craftsmanship to think of them as anything but a really heavy pop band but I'm annoying like that. Then it drifted off into a long dissertation about the effect that Judas Priest has had on all of our lives. We watch the LARK that John brought to the meeting- a collection of Midnight Oil videos that he got back when he was a manager at Tower records. I forgot how cool their first record was. We didn't get to my personal Midnight Oil fave "Blue Star Mine". Instead, Doyle whips out this tape called PUNK and it's got live performances by the Buzzcocks, THE JAM~! and fucking JOY DIVISION on it. I freak out and party. Joy Division was then doing "Shadowplay" and it's really cool. The Jam doing "In The City" made me say, "Y'know, our kids will get older and get in bands and have their personal favorite bands that they will make them feel rebellious and cool but we will always be able to say we had The Jam." And we all laughed eventhough we did feel better being mid-thirties and having this one thing that we knew was true. Plus it had the Undertones. Then John whipped out the Super Nerd Tape- the Video Collection of Elvis Motherfucking Costello and we FREAKED OUT! WOO-HOO! The song I hadn't thought of prolly seven years but which is as bitter and devastating and cool as it ever was is "New Lace Sleeves" from Imperial Bedroom. The video is the coolest.

And now it's Wednesday. And it's WOW from 1/6/2001

Dave McLane makes grandiose statements about the really good match between THUG and Selena Majors and if one replaces "In the history of Women's Wrestling" with "In North American Women's Wrestling since anyboy can remember when" when he makes the statement "the Greatest match in the history of Women's Wrestling", one is right on the mark.
BECKY THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER vs JACKLYN HYDE: Jacklyn has this SHOOT-creepy Mr B Matural thing going for her as she minces about and acts like a woman acting crazy and it makes me think of Tupperware party's and Community theater. This isn't a bad thing at all actually. BUT WHAT ABOUT THE WRESTLING? Becky has the really good dropkick and sassy jean shorts and the haltertop of boobtastic goodness that I will make me completely gloss over the fact that she does a variation on the suck-ass of all suck-ass moves- The Rolling Cradle. I'll also stare deeply into her haltertop and say "Yes...it...must... Jacklyn Hyde.... who is ...blowing so many...spots...that they... must ham-fistedly cut... away to... crowd...." They also cover for something hideously blown (I'm guessing) by showing Becky's big bump to the mat- LINGERING LONG ENOUGH on her fabulous Daisy Duke back pockets for pathetic midnight chokers at home to start finding the lubricant for their hour of grappling with the TRUE people's champion in their pants. Then, Becky starts talking shit about how THOROUGHLY bad ass her toprope Splash is. Jungle Grrl comes out and sez, "Awwwwwww, fuck you, bitch! My splash is the one that is TOTALLY bad ass!" and IT'S ON FOR THE FIRST PPV I WILL GET SINCE A NEW MILLINIUM DAWNED!

I swear to GOD that these Benny hill commercials are wearing me down. I used to love Benny Hill back when I saw the show on channel 33 in Norfolk when I was in high school. Maybe I'll rent it. I actually work in the same industrial park as Time-Life (on Parham Rd CHECK OUT THE AD! REALLY! WHIP ASS!). Maybe I'll go snoop around. I wonder how many EnerX ads I'll have to see to finally.... wait.
SANDY/ SUMMER vs MYSTERY/ MISERY:
I personally like the fact that the DAUGHTERS OF DARKNESS stay shrouded in Cruel Connection-esque jobberdom mystery. If they ever won a match as a tag team, maybe it would warrant an explanation as to what they are supposed to be. Beach Patrol need to turn evil so I can actually like them. They seem to be more competent in the ring than most of the breasticularly enhanced ladies on the show so I can't beef with any of that. The camera man knows that the buyrate is dependent on the highest amount of cameltoe available and the Beach Patrol BRING IT, BUT they also do the nifty Thematic wrestling idea of using a couple of SURFBOARDS. I want to love Beach Patrol and they are working their way into my hearts in a way that RIOT never had to work. So it would be TRUE love, right? We break away into commercials FIRST for PHONICS, THEN for JACKING OFF ON THE PHONE! I'm so very afraid of the general state of American advertising. Upon returning, Misery reverses a Surfboard and them DoD fucks up some pretty rufimentary double team moves. The Camera man brings you back into the match with the most glaring cameltoe ever in the history of women with... secret places... Summer is good at being a face in peril and Mystery hits a nice Fisherman's Buster. Sandy takes a big bump to the floor with the lingering buttcam shot to polish off the first wave of gerkin squeezers. The ending is all elaborate and neat with a sunset flip pin with Better Teamwork Prevailing! This match was deeply WOWgood and I'm not just talking about the cameltoe bonanza here. DoD get their heat back- thus keeping the promise of all of the gimmick being explained- but Beach Patrol advances. WOW is so NOT booked by chimps.

Free Tarot reading and shows I will never watch on UPN 65. Bob Villa SEZ: "And now that you've released the frothing manfilth, bring your repulsive sweaty, self to SEARS for an estimate on our Central Air/Central Heating systems!"
TERRI GOLD vs POISON:
Poison is sooo naughty. She has used venom in the past. (I...I ... HOPE that's venom!) Terri is PISSED! Terri Gold is becoming one of my fave wrestlers in WOW. She's got spunk! And I LOVE Spunk! She is all flippy and jumpy as she cross-body blocks the hell out of Poison. She even sells the worst kneelift ever attempted by a human on this man's earth who is not named Ed Leslie. Weird editing covers up Poison and Gold screwing up the Double Ax Handle from the top. Terri then hits Psycho Josh with Toprope Cross Body Block (that I'm guessing the craziest human on earth laughed off quickly). Poison hits the Poision Death Drop and Ice Cold makes the count. Terri hits (The concept of dropkicks) on Poison and Ice Cold and hits the Wedgie Of Supreme Creepy Ratings Moonsault! Terri is neato. Poison has tiny tiny pants and either me or Old School John are gonna suffer a Russ Meyer Supervixen-laced Flashback massive coronary one of these days....

Julie Day is talking to Bronco Billie. Yes. She is.

EnerX! For when only a placebo will help your long-suffering wife!

Perhaps one could send in a patent that would help one Churn the Butter while talking to the 900 number.

They show highlights of the really good/ WOWunbelievable match betgween THUG and Selena. Selena throws the best punches in North America. God, this match was fucking COOL.
TANJA the WARRIOR WOMAN/ ROXIE POWERS vs LOCA/ DELTA LOTTA PAIN:
Roxie makes me feel all hurty and squishy inside. I forget that Tanja is RIGHT THERE in a fine fine male and female alike masturbatory fetish outfit. Cage Heat hits the ring and Roxie brings attention to her TRULY magnificent butt and... uh HEY! The WRESTLING! Roxie hits a nice Fireman's Carry but thoroughly fux up the Drop Toe Hold and Face in Peril begins. It's all pretty basic tagteam stuff but Loca hits a nice nice senton to break up a pinning predicament after Tanja gets the offensive TRANSITION by hitting a spinning heel crescent heel kick. Tanja also hits a nice double clothesline as Roxie finds new and exciting ways to writhe around on the floor. Caged Heat hits a 3-D for the win on Tanja, hits a Doomsday Device on Roxie and then PSYCHO JOSH TAKES THE SICKEST MOTHERFUCKING BUMP I HAVE EVER SEEN THAT DIDN'T INVOLVE HONMA OR YAMAKAWA AND BARBED-WIRE!!! HOLY FUCK!

It goes skitastic at the end. Selena gets beaten all to hell at a bar somewhere in the Western Forum and then they all end up in the Caged heat holding cell and Caged heat shows up and THAT'S ALL FOLKS!

Oh wait! Ice Cold just sprayed Terri Gold with some stuff. Spraying Terri Gold with stuff is such a cheap sleazy joke you've already made in your head that I will not dignify it with a printed version.

That was good little batch of WOW television.

THERE YOU HAVE IT.

DEAN RASMUSSEN.