No time for quotes. I’ve got a really f*cked up schedule right now which involves me sleeping from about 5PM to midnight, watching Raw on tape, knocking out this column, then heading for work at 3AM. This is going to be a goddamn thrill until my work and residence situations are settled. So let’s get right into it.
In Memoriam: Clarry the Koala, father of seven, dead at the age of 19. May we all live as fruitful a life as this brave, heroic marsupial.
In Memoriam II: Princess Margaret. Partied her ass off, smoked like a chimney, acted like a complete bitch, hung out with Mick Jagger…she’s my role model. She would have definitely approved of dying in the same week as big sis’ fiftieth anniversary of her accession to the throne. Anything to disrupt the family.
THE PIMP SECTION
Double Dose of Nason, here and here.
Double dose of Raw, from Keith and PK.
Double dose of Flea, with Excess and yesterday’s news, which has some nice sentiments about Steph and her incompetence.
Only a single dose of Daniels, though. We’re already skirting LD50 with that.
And why not Morse? He’s talking about Luger, which is toxic in and of itself.
And, naturally, Mahaud on Heat. It’s what we all come here for, after all.
TODAY’S OFFICIAL OLYMPIC BONER BABE
Kari Traa, Norway, gold medal, Moguls. She can ride over my bumps anytime.
AN OLYMPIC VIEWER’S DIARY
Reflections on the Opening Ceremonies:
Desired Assassination List: Dubbaya, naturally. Samaranch, of course. Mitt Romney and his little rah-rah speech. John Williams and his goddamn fur hat (go back to scoring Episode 2, John). The choreographers for the production numbers. The designers of the Korean team’s outfits. I’d like to shove that lantern up that little kid’s ass while I’m at it (BTW, NBC named him, but the AP wire kept him anonymous in order to make him into an Everykid Of Light). KATIE FUCKING COURIC! THE BITCH MUST DIE!!
Jim McKay I will allow to be Summeralled out peacefully. I remember thirty years ago in Munich. I saw things that a seven-year-old shouldn’t be allowed to see courtesy of Black September. It was only the reassuring voice of Jim McKay that made that horror livable. For that act, I confer mercy upon him, even though he’s at about a .9 Ol’ Yeller at this point. It was painful to listen to him during the Opening Ceremonies reminisce about the good old days.
Was that a silent welcome for Uzbekistan? How soon we Americans forget. Meanwhile, the Russians get a Jericho-in-Chicago reception. How soon we Americans forget.
And how little taste we have for moments. Two out of three people at NBC’s Olympic site voted the WTC flag bullshit or something involving Dubbaya as “best moment of the Opening Ceremonies”. I want that green card, Scott!
Music that does not belong at an Olympics Opening Ceremony: Sting, R. Kelly, Aaron Copland, “God Bless America”, and “The Stars and Stripes Forever”.
Let me clarify those last two a bit more, shall I? A celebration of the host city is fine; overweening patriotism is not (like that godawful Opening Ceremonies in LA in ’84). It’s not about us versus them, it’s about seeing the best in the world at their chosen sport compete and enjoying the athletic endeavors. The only time I ever cared about the US winning was in 1976 and 1984 when McDonalds offered escalating food prizes for scratch-off events. A bronze would get you a small fry, a silver a medium drink, and a gold a Big Mac. I remember I had at least four tickets where the US swept the event and got a full meal for free. No Mickey D’s promotion, no care.
Bad choice for Copland, BTW; they should have used “Billy the Kid”, a superior piece of music. Of course, it didn’t help that that bitch Couric spouts out the reference to the National Beef Council’s use of “Rodeo” for their cholesterol pimps. Actually, I shouldn’t say that. I do deal with beef in my job. So, it’s perfectly fine if you eat corned beef brisket, but not if you eat anything else beefy. This isn’t making a damn bit of sense, really, so let’s move on.
Now, as for that bad road-show version of “Seven Brides For Seven Brothers”, what must the worldwide audience think about Americans from watching that? That the pioneers were the true discoverers of LSD? They were too far north for peyote, so that isn’t an excuse. Figure-skating coyotes should not be featured in anything not named “Disney On Ice”, dammit!
Anyone else think that the Indian chiefs were going to submit to the Great White Father in his luxury box?
It’s pretty appropriate to hold the Winter Games in Utah. The only organization that bans more drugs than the IOC is the Mormon Church.
The Olympic flag-bearers…wow. Desmond Tutu, Lech Walesa, John Glenn, Cathy Freeman, Jean-Claude Killy, Jean-Michel Cousteau, Steven Spielberg…this is a list of personal heroes (especially the first three). Like I’m going to make fun of that. Okay, I did wonder if Kazuyoshi Funaki was any relation to Sho, but that’s it.
As for the torch-lighters, well, I called it last Wednesday. No real surprise there, but the Parade Of American Olympic Heroes was a nice touch, especially the Sheas (yah, boo, sucks to you to Eric Heiden, though, for saying “Light the torch or nothing at all”). To appeal to my more basic emotions, though, I have to admit that no one will top Joanna Lumley on my list of Women In Their Fifties I’d Bang In A Moment, but Peggy Fleming gives her a run for her money.
What period of time is longer, the amount of time that Derek Parra held the world record in the 5000m speed skate or the amount of time you have to wait for help in the flooring department at Home Depot, where Parra works according to HD’s pimps?
Just for the record, the first medal winner to say the words “September 11th” was Shannon Bahrke. She was the designated “ugly chick” on the stand for the Women’s Moguls, along with the cute-as-the-dickens Tae Satoya and Official Boner Babe Kari Traa. Bark, indeed.
If anyone interrupts one of those asinine post-event interviews with “What?” chants, I’ll change my mind about the merit of that whole mess.
Patriotism got served in the men’s half-pipe, where the US swept the medals in an event for the first time in forty-six years. It would have been a lot cooler, though, had the IOC not made pot a banned substance.
You just know that the first words Georg Hackl said at the medal ceremony for the men’s luge was “What do you mean I don’t get to stand on top? I always stand on top!” Two silvers and three golds in five Games, though; give the guy his props. He looks like a Bavarian child molester, but you know he gets the most luge groupie trim. Rumors that he’ll only do it on his back, though, are unfounded.
A NON-OLYMPIC SPORT
Two-time Masters winner makes the cut at the Buick right on the line and then tames Torrey Pines to squeak out a win on Sunday. Typical Tigger. He always does that…it wasn’t Tigger? It was Ho-Thay-Can-You-See? Now that I would have liked to have seen. Damn the Olympics.
SPIN ON THIS AXIS, DUBBAYA
Well, it seems that Dubbaya’s “axis of evil” speech has had an unexpected side effect: our allies in Britain are an eentsy-weentsy bit miffed, and the biggest blast has come from a Conservative: Chris Patten, former Tory bigwig, now the equivalent of the EU’s foreign minister. He told the Guardian late last week, “Gulliver can’t go it alone, and I don’t think it’s helpful if we regard ourselves as so Lilliputian that we can’t speak up and say it” and that Dubbaya’s ruined any chance for members of the EU to try to reach diplomatic agreements with moderates in Iran and North Korea. Members of the Labour Party are going to use Patten’s words to open Tony Blair’s eyes. When you can get the Labour and Conservative parties to agree on something in regards to the US, you’re in deep shit. French PM Lionel Jospin also had some harsh words to say about the Oval Office Cowboys. When you can get the British and French to agree on anything at all, you’re in really deep shit. Of course, the Iranians had to ruin it all with a mass protest. You can’t work up too much indignation if the Iranians are bitching about it.
THE SHORT FORM
And here’s my impressions on Raw…
Chris Jericho over Edge, Non-Title Match (Pinfall, Breakdown): I wonder how history will look at Chris Jericho’s about-to-end title reign. Obviously, it’s going to be judged a failure. But how many people will remember the piss-poor booking that led to the reign in the first place and affected it afterward? Probably a great many; we’re not going to forget something as atrocious as the Invasion for a long, long time. So Jericho gets a pass.
Goldust over Rikishi (DQ, Toker-ference): You notice they avoided the possibility of a Stinkface in this match. This was only logical; if there’s one wrestler in the WWF who might enjoy that, it’s Goldust (Patterson’s retired, remember). When Lawler made the “Free Willy” remark, I must admit that the first thing I thought about was not Rikishi’s bulk. It was Dustin’s unfortunate tendency toward involuntary priapism. For those of you who don’t know what that means, I’ll explain it this way: he has a habit of showing the audience at home why Terri married him in the first place.
Kurt Angle over the Godfather (Submission, AngleLock): Does this actually count as a match? I have my doubts. At least they’re laying the groundwork for Mister Wright to return to full pimphood courtesy of Lawler and JR.
Steve Austin over the Undertaker, End-Of-Hour Special (DQ, Jericho-ference): Thank you for reminding me that Austin and Jericho have a match on Sunday. Christ knows you’ve done nothing to remind us of that, WWF. And how many years has it taken to use the Steveweisers and the cooler as weapons? Guess that Jericho really is the smartest champion ever.
Booker T over Tazz (Pinfall, Test big boot): It’s sad to think that the ultimate legacy of the Invasion may be Test and Booker as a team. Pray for wrestling, folks.
My Beautiful and Beloved Dudley over That Tramp Torrie Wilson, Bikini Match (Pinfall, rollup): Well, the right person went over. However, how sad is it that this match featured the best exchange of rapid-fire near-pinfalls in the WWF in the last year?
Rob Van Dam over Christian (Pinfall, Five-Star Frog Splash): Memo to Christian: You are not a mat wrestler. You also need to work on your tantrums. Practice them when you start begging Steph and Heyman to put you and Edge back together.
The House That Jackass Built: I never knew there was a pecking order to white trash. Apparently, biker trash is superior to people from Arkansas. As for the upcoming match at No Way Out, I’ll have some very, very choice comments to make in the Round Table considering my intense dislike for the party of the heel part and my utter loathing for the party of the face part.
Arn Anderson Guarantees On-Time Delivery: I would have marked out if Anderson said “I just found this in Flair’s office. He’s been holding it for you since 1995. It’s from Eric Bischoff. I think that he’s firing you from WCW.”
Spontaneous Abortion: The bride goes down the aisle to “slut” chants. The officiant gets interrupted by audience chants. The groom beats up the father of the bride and tells the bride she’s a conniving bitch. You know, if more weddings were like this, I’d go to them.
AND IN OTHER WRESTLING NEWS…
Borash and Madden will be the announce team for the WWA PPV, according to their favorite vehicle for leaks, Chester the Molester. Oh, my God. That’s nightmare fodder right there. Yeah, the scheduled matches may be great, as Flea said yesterday, but this sorta puts a big-time damper on it. These guys could be pulling out Flair-Steamboat 2K2, and it’ll be wrecked courtesy of the two brain-dead chimps behind the mics. Jeez, Tenay and Styles aren’t doing anything. Team either of them up with Borash (who has to be there), and it’d be fine. But that fat tub of moldering offal? Please. And people wonder why we in the IWC don’t take the WWA seriously.
It’s been heavily pimped around these parts, but on Sunday, before No Way Out, Rob Van Dam will be doing a personal appearance at the Potawatomi Casino in Milwaukee. You know he’s doing it only because of the name of the place.
Everything else, Ashish has covered, and the only comment I have at this time is: is there any way to somehow abandon Hall, Nash, and Waltman in Ohio?
Well, that’s it for me. Tomorrow, more Olympics, stuff on the Oscar nominations, and Smackdown coverage. See ya.