Junk News, Huzzah! 05.08.03


Hey guys. Sorry about last week. By the time you read this, my auditions will be done and I’ll have a cast for my show. All I need now is a theater, sets, and a scene designer. The current financial support for the show has come from the readers of 411mania.com. Each individual donor will have their name printed in the program whenever I produce this show. To join them by making a donation or to just read the play, go to my website, which contains not only my plays but also a Simpson’s Spec Script. If I have time on Thursday, I’m going to update the site with a bunch of short stories, so be on the look out for that. http://setyoursite.com/jgrutman. It’s my third favorite website.

Well, now that I’ve gotten the shilling out of the way, it’s time to address my problems with Ashish. It’s been the talk of the Internet for the past 3 years and it’s time these issues come to a head. Ashish hates me and that makes me sad. I hope we can put all of the rumors to rest now.

On a lighter note, my good buddy Widro came and auditioned for my plays after I asked him to. The guy can cry on command. He may be the best actor of all time. (In all seriousness, I do not know the outcome of his audition as of the writing of this column. Being that he doesn’t act, it should be good.)

Just to get this out of the way, PK wants you to win stuff at the figures section. PK wants you to have free stuff. I want you to have free stuff. Everybody’s happy!

You know, if PK lived in New York he could be PKNY. Just something to think about.

Junk News! Huzzah!

The Road Warriors are returning to the WWE. Hey, proof that the surveys are working!

Road Warrior Animal recently spoke on his return on the No Holds Barred radio show. I have a section of the interview right here.

Interviewer: So, Animal, are you looking forward to working for Vince McMahon again?
Animal: ANIMAL! A loud, wild drum solo is heard. Cymbals crash repeatedly. ANIMAL!

Way to go, Animal. Way to go.

I haven’t commented on this and it happened a while ago, but Jay Bower recently referred to me as a rich man’s Jay Bower. While his comments were very kind, if I ever see him using my name in his column again I will haul ass down to Florida and mistakenly beat the crap out of Jay’s twin brother, Ken Anderson. That wasn’t really a wrestling joke so much as a site joke, but do you really care?

The Raw rating dropped .4 this week from a 3.9 to a 3.5. Vince is said to be taking this in stride, as Vince Russo doesn’t have any attachment to the WWE anymore. Vince McMahon, however, killed himself immediately after finding out about the ratings. He is survived by his wife Linda, his son and daughter Shane and Stephanie (respectively, I think), and a half finished cheese sandwich Vince never got around to finishing. Oddly enough, he left all of his money to the cheese sandwich.

Ric Flair was on an Australian television talk show. Ric managed to piss off the entire country by claiming his man boobs bounced higher then a kangaroo could. They had a spur of the moment contest and the kangaroo won, so Ric Flair just started bawling. Congratulations, kangaroo. You made a 75 year old man sob.

The Ultimo Dragon has signed with the WWE. Get ready for the worst joke of all time. Remember I warned you. I am sorry. I am so sorry. Fans are not looking forward to his segments for fear they will DRAG ON! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAhahahasniffhahahohgodhahawhathappenedtomylifeha!

We may have seen the last Tough Enough episode ever. Finally, with that revealing show out of the way, HHH will get his heat back.

The boys backstage were not happy with the Kevin Nash/HHH brawl on Raw. In response to the criticism, HHH pretended to give a shit for five seconds.

In his most recent Raw report, Scott Keith referred to as his man. You know, if you don’t count Daniels, Hyatte, Flea, Dino, new nice guy No Soul (YOU’LL NEVER BE AS POPULAR OR FUNNY AS ME! NEVER! QUIT STEALING MY SPOT! FIRST YOU TURN ME DOWN FOR A COLUMNIST GIG 5 YEAR OR SO AGO AND NOW YOU’RE DOING MY BIT AT MY WEBSITE! YOU WILL NEVER BE SAFE TO SLEEP! NEVER! NEVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER! Nice guy though. Really.), PK, Widro, Claire Flynn Boyle, Mister Socko and Coren (my boys on the message board), Ron Gamble, Eric S, Ben Morse, my readers who write nice things to me, Derek Burgan, BFPisBuff, all of my friends from home, my brothers, my teachers, acquaintances, my parents, Scotsman, Ashish, and my foot fungus, then yeah, Scott is my man and I’m his. We tight.

Again, my apologies. Slow f*cking news day.

John “The Tank” Toland and The Prophet have been signed to WWE developmental deals. The Prophet always knew this would happen. When The Prophet informed Toland two weeks prior to the signing, Toland tanked him. Oh God. I know. I it’s a slow week.

Edge released another column in his series of incredibly depressing and disgusting columns on www.wwe.com. In this week’s column, Edge talks about being roasted alive and having two beasts leap upon his badly burnt shoulders, obviously trying to nip away at his flesh. Edge blames his torment on Sinn.

This is going to sound pretty stupid, but when Edge comes back let’s all give him a 6 minute standing ovation. Then, as soon as the 6 minutes have passed, let’s all suddenly start to boo the shit out of him. This is just to f*ck with his head.

The NWA:TNA is having some problems finding Jeff Hardy. Jarrett should call Hardy on the telephone. Hardy thinks the telephone is amazing. How amazing, Jeff?
“The phone is so amazing I look at it and stare.
I wonder how you hear me.
I wonder why I care.”
Ladies and Gentlemen, Jeff Hardy! His book of poems, including The Amazing Telephone, will never be released. Ever.

Screw this. Let’s sprinkle in some fake news.

When RVD was asked about knowing his place in the roster by Triple H, RVD said, “HHH, you’ll always above me. By the way, Hunter, what’s the opposite of above me?”

John “The Tank” Toland recently gave birth to twins. I came to the hospital to congratulate him and he said, “Tanks.”

Oh thank God. The Smackdown spoilers are up. Okay oh no. Smackdown is going to suck this week. Why is Smackdown sucking? IT’S THE GOOD SHOW! SHIT!

Vince and Stephanie and Mr. America play the I’m not Hulk Hogan game. This segment runs forty minutes. If there is a God, one night Vince will almost have the mask pulled off and the lights will go out, and when they go back on Kamala will be in the center of the ring with Mr. America tights and no mask. Then Hulk Hogan would keep wrestling as Mr. America but would keep calling himself Kamala. THAT’S comedy.

Eddie fights Matt Hardy in a brutal hour and a half match.

Lesnar accepts Big Show’s Judgement Day challenge and declares the match to be a stretcher match. WWE, I’m not going to pay $35.00 to see two men stretch for twenty minutes! What do I look like, a rube? This segment runs thirty seconds.

Kendrick fights Noble in a tantalizingly tight forty minute match.

Torrie Wilson fights Dawn Marie with Sable as the special ref in the best five hour segment ever! Then Sable challenges Torrie to a bikini contest at Judgement Day. Torrie accepts, and Sable says good, and Torrie says fine, and then they just stand around for a bit.

Team Angle fight Tajiri and Rikishi in a quick two minute match up. The end comes when Tajiri accidentally shoots Rikishi.

Rhyno fights Jon Cena in a match that takes place in negative three seconds.

Big dumb stuff happens in the main event. Really, really dumb stuff.

Smackdown spoilers! Huzzah!

Okay. I’m in a bit of a rush today, I apologize for that. Go to the columns section and read everyone there.

Last week, when I missed a column, my brother wrote one for me. It was too late to publish it, but I’d like to give it the attention it so strongly deserves now.


Dear People,

Josh couldn’t make it last week. He was too busy going to the deli to buy me an unnecessary third 40oz of Olde English (don’t ask) to write his column. He is indirectly responsible for my lateness to work (I got here at 12:30 instead of 9:00) and he refuses to abuse his new powers as a director and writer to get me laid. When I was 14 and he was 12, he won his first fight against me, absorbing crushing blows to the head with a shoe and in a Hulk Hogan-esque performance, recovered from a Boston Crab to beat me mercilessly. He’s a pretty sick f*ck people. Don’t get on his bad side. He can take a punch, and he’ll wait for you to get tired before he claws your eyes out and bites your ears off.


Last weekend, as I watched my fantasy baseball team suck their way to another crushing defeat, I observed a promotion for Backlash. I am one of those people who watched wrestling when I was young, went away, came back when it was good, then left again. However, I have always maintained a deep appreciation for the Rock. Don’t go Rock. Or do. Either way, I’m going to wait for your movies to hit cable. Anyhow, I saw that Goldberg and the Rock were to do battle, and immediately called Josh. I said, “Josh, I am going to order Backlash. Feel like coming into the city?” He replied, “Yes. I do feel like coming to the city. Thus, I will come to the city and watch Backlash with you.” So then I tried to order Backlash.

Those Time Warner bastards are sure sticklers about getting paid. Try as I might, I could not get them to put my order through without paying at least a part of the 6 month balance I had incurred. So, three hundred dollars and many apologies later, the deal was sealed. Nothing could stop me from watching my hero, The Rock, fight the Biggest, Angriest, Most Terrifying Jew on Planet Earth. I know, I know. People don’t like him. Josh told me the story. Bret Hart was a favorite of mine. But I like him anyway, f*ck Canada. They’re mostly French. I’d like to see Goldberg let loose in Paris. He can kick all those f*ckers in the head. I’ll still like him.

Now, prior to Josh’s arrival, I was already moderately drunk. Upon Josh’s arrival, I proceeded to become more drunk. As we inebriated ourselves, we watched the opening moments of Backlash, and immediately switched to watch the Simpsons. Once Homer had completed his weekly half hour of amusing antics, we began watching Backlash in earnest, and it was about that time that we popped some Xanex.

I was going to write primarily about the experience of watching the Rock get soundly defeated by Goldberg, but feel that it’s important to note that the Big Show’s brutal beating of Rey Mysterio was among the finer moments of my life. Watching that little bastard get mauled and then mauled again was worth the price of the pay per view by itself. I am currently looking for a midget who will agree to strap himself to a board and allow me to bash him against a metal pole and drop him on his head. If anybody knows of a willing midget, dwarf, or small child, please contact me through Josh. A starving refugee would also do quite nicely. Thank you.

By the time Rock and Goldberg were prepared to get it on, the Xanex had rendered me nearly unconcious. My face was twisted and contorted, I was making Goldberg faces and noises, all involuntarily. Josh, showing tolerance worthy of Randy “Macho Man” Savage, calmly watched me and taunted me with the predicition that the Rock would lose. Had I the strength to get up, I would have pummelled him for such blasphemy, but it was not to be. My candy ass was firmly implanted on the couch. However, I still had faith in my hero’s promise that he would not be next, but would in fact, make Goldberg be next.
As we all know, it was not to be. Goldberg’s manhandling of the Rock was a debacle in itself. I felt saddened by Goldberg’s refusal to stay down after the Rock Bottom was applied. I hate that. Finishing move, then bam. 3 count. Dammit, doesn’t anyone follow the formula? Anyhow, after the final spear was delivered, I was spent. Pooped. Too angry to sleep, but too f*cked up to move. So I kicked Josh out. I blame him for the Rock’s demise. He’s a Mankind type of guy.

R.I.P Elizabeth. As a child of the 80’s, she was my first object of lust. At the very first Summerslam, both Josh and I were in attendance as she lifted her shirt to stun Andre the Giant, allowing Macho Man to get the win. I hate to think that such a beautiful woman was lost to an overdose of drugs, it’s a crying f*cking shame. She made Britney Spears look like Randy Spears.

So that’s it. In my first and last column, which will assuredly get plenty of views because you people like my little brother, I hope to have given you an accurate account of a Grutman brother Backlash. I don’t remember most of the wrestling, but hey, wrestling has never been about the wrestling, it’s always been about bringing families together; the steel chairs, hidden foreign objects in boots, good old fashioned racism, savage brutality, wives cheating on husbands, husbands cheating on wives, and Triple H’s stunning marriage to Stephanie, breaking poor Test’s heart. It’s not exactly a Partridge Family Christmas, but it’s close enough.

And that’s that. Thanks to Brian for stopping in, thanks to you for reading. There will be a full update on the audition and casting process next week. Until then, SUPPORT THE PLAY!

Late Note: Well, the auditions are all done. Nothing is really new in the news save for Luger-Liz stuff, and I don’t need to comment on that. Widro did audition, and I knew he wouldn’t be Ralph Fiennes. I was wrong. Widro is Ralph Fiennes. Surprising, huh?

In all seriousness, the guy did really well for his first audition and has a good look and he should consider taking a class to learn how not to suck at acting.

Really, in all seriousness, while Widro’s not an actor, he seems like the type of guy I’d like to have helping me. The man is smart, hard working and has connections up the butt. He’s been as close an online friend to me as anyone since I came to 411, and one day I hope to get half the pussy he gets. Also, he sucked so bad at the audition I vomited.

REALLY, in complete and total honesty, Widro is not the worst actor I’ve ever met as I accidentally invited a half retarded transvestite who didn’t speak a word of English to audition. Widro was not only a better actor then this man/woman/half retard, but Widro really seemed to enjoy f*cking the shit out of him/her/it.

I SWEAR TO GOD, and this is honest, I saw about 40 male actors. There were many, many bad ones. Widro did better then some of them without a day of training in his life. It took courage to try out, to do something he’d never done before, and I’m proud of him. I stopped being as proud when he offered me a blowjob for a role, but I’m still kind of proud.

Okay now. This is real. This isn’t fake. Widro is not the best actor ever. He’s not the worst. He’s just not an actor yet. He could be one if he wanted to be. I’m sure I’ll have a bit part for him eventually when I need an ugly retarded boy band member who doesn’t know how to act for shit and seems to be devoid of all emotion.

Widro, swear to God, next time we see each other the first two rounds are on me. Talk to you guys next week.