Hi. I’m Joshua Grut. I don’t know nothing about this Interthingy. I don’t even know how to make things bold or in italics or how to make links. Unless the wonderful and hard-working CW takes care of it for me, welcome to the worst Midnight News ever. Lots of magic to explore, let’s get cracking like a…guy…who cracks a lot… hell.
Widro Has Sources!!!
Widro reported that Smackdown got a 3.4 broadcast rating with a 5.0 share on Tuesday. He didn’t credit another website, so I’m guessing someone in the ‘know’ told him.
RVD IS REALLY OVER!
In his latest Mitchell’s Take, wrestling journalist Bruce Mitchell stated, “Man, that RVD is really over…”
The final three periods suggest that Mitchell had more to say about this stunning turn of events but instead remained silent. Shock ran rampant over the internet today as people began to contemplate what this announcement means for the World Wrestling Federation. Yet, somehow, life continues on against the beating of the wind. RVD is really over, man. Get used to it.
Thanks to PWTorch.com.
CARLOS RULES SOUTH OF THE BORDER!!!!
Carlos has a dandy of a Heat to recap this Sunday! Tajiri vs. Dreamer! Kanyon vs. Scotty! Palumbo vs. Spike! Apparently, that’s it. Yeah, well, good luck Carlos. You may not have known this, but Carlos is not just a recapper; he’s my best friend in the whole wide world. This came from about 20 different places. No one gets credit! HAHAHAHAHAHA!
X-PAC TO LEAVE THE WWF!!!!!!
Sorry. Sorry. Just his theme music. X-Pac will remain a part of the WWF, but the Uncle Cracker theme music will give him a final passionate kiss and then ride off into the sunset.
Widro thinks a song by Saliva will replace it. X-Pac is pulling for Robbie Williams. Thanks Observer! Thanks for… observing!
Whiny 6’7″ Black Men Need Not Apply!
The WWF is now accepting applications for Tough Enough 2. You can access the form by clicking here.
Ben Morse, a great guy with a great column, The Mean, has released his thoughts on DDP. It’s odd. The ending confused me a little. Apparently, to understand DDP you have to look at yourself. I did. I still don’t get it. You’ll probably have better luck as it won’t be 3 in the morning.
Honestly, while my opinion shouldn’t mean diddly twack yet, before I became a famous 411 columnist HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I always looked foward to a new The Mean. There are so few things on the wrestling internet scene that are different from all the other columns on the net. Like them or hate them, The Mean, The Lyrical Stunt and…umm… somebody else’s column at 411 are very unique. The other columns are all very high quality, but these are incredibly unique. Just my dumb opinion.
JOSHUA GRUT NON-WRESTLING FICTION
You don’t have to read this. You can go now unless you’re interested. In fact, THAT’S THE NEWS! GOODNIGHT!
This is a story about an idea for a story I wrote for my creative writing class. It’s written from the perspective of the idea for a story. Hopefully you’ll get it.
The Middle Child Syndrome
Two weeks ago today, I was born. I saw the light in Josh’s head and went towards it, and suddenly I was bewildered by what I saw. Millions of ideas and sentences danced around me, all there for my nourishment, just within my grasp. All I needed was for Josh to feed them to me.
Josh took me from what I believed to be the hospital to his home, a dirty dorm room he shared with three other men. I was shocked and angry when the first thing these men did was try to poison me by handing Josh some kind of beverage which killed off a bunch of my brothers. Seeing them murdered as brutally as they were paralyzed me with fear for the rest of my life, no matter how short that was.
Josh went dancing that night, and thus I went dancing to. It was there that I met my older brother, Sex. Sex was so large, he took up a good 45% of our house. He introduced me to my other older brothers, Money, Pro Wrestling, and Random Bullshit. It was then that Josh drunk another one of those beverages, and I watched my sister Charity sustain another injury, while my little brother Ego suddenly grew large.
Throughout the weekend, I suffered from mal-nourishment. I watched Josh lavish all his attention on an exceedingly frustrated Sex. Sex tried to cheer me up, telling me that he’d had millions of brothers just like me, and that I shouldn’t worry. I asked him if I could meet some of them, and he grimaced, shook his head, and told me they had all died. He then laughed evilly and walked away whistling. I decided I hated Sex.
Over the next two weeks, Josh ignored me. He didn’t feed me. He didn’t love me. I felt as though I was that baby in Trainspotting who died because of a lack of attention. I became so small, so weak, I couldn’t even stand or whisper for help. No one could hear me or see me, especially Josh. That is, until two hours before I was due. I forced myself to let out a tiny yelp, a tiny scream.
And thanks to my brother Panic Attack, in two seconds I grew to be twice the size of Sex.
The attention was lavished on me finally, but the problem was that I hadn’t been fed, and I weighed just as much as I did when I was born. Only now I was taller and as skinny as Alley McBeal. Josh began to stuff food down my throat at too quickly a pace, sometimes feeding me nutrients that were only good for my brothers Sarcasm and Random Bullshit. I began to become fat with so many wrong ideas inside me, ideas that were bad for me. One of my eyes popped out of its socket. All of my teeth fell out from all the empty sugary treats I had been fed. By the time Josh was finished feeding me in that two hour period, I was no longer meek and practically invisible. I was now freakish and overbearing.
I died right there, in Josh’s brain, before you even received me. By the time you did, I was already decomposing, and you were just performing the autopsy. It’s funny, you know? In the beginning, I went down to Josh’s heart, and there I met my favorite brother. He was the biggest one I’d seen yet, but for some reason he was caged, not allowed to roam freely. He told me that Sex and Drugs and Television had put him there, and that he hoped someone like me would one-day gain control and set him free. His name was Potential.
Thanks for reading. This is Joshua Grut.