At the moment, my life is one big problem. You see, I have to be nice to the Germans. They are my customers. They are winning the war. So if I’m not nice to them, they will shoot me. I have to be nice to the Resistance, otherwise they will shoot me for being nice to the Germans. I have to be nice to my wife, because if she finds out I’m having an affair with Yvette, she will shoot me. And if Yvette finds out I’m having an affair with Maria, she will shoot me. Now, a Gestapo officer is having dinner in the back room. Upstairs are two German officers in their underwear, because I have borrowed their uniforms to help two British airmen to escape. The pianist over there is, in fact, a forger for the Maquis. The German officer at that table fancies me. And it is only Tuesday.
– David Croft and Jeremy Lloyd, through Gorden Kaye as Rene Artois, Allo, Allo: “Pigeon Post”
I’ve been wanting to use that one for a while. Great quote, fantastic series.
At this moment, my life has solved one big problem and moved on to another. I’ve apartment-hunted on the Net before. However, the last time was when I was moving from Ohio to Wisconsin. And given that I was moving to Kenosha, I was sort of on home ground there. I’ve never been to Lincoln, Nebraska in my life. I’m searching based on maps and under the presumption that…hell, it’s Nebraska, so nothing can’t be that bad. I am going to head out there later this week, though. The sooner I get a place to live, the better. And there remains the possibility that I could pull this off without missing a column. I do take pride in my reliability. Of course, that apparently makes me unique around here.
THE INCREDIBLY SHORT PIMP SECTION BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE APPARENTLY WORKS HERE
I get pimped first regardless. Me at Fleabag’s. Me at Biscuiti, Matt Isomer’s. Me everywhere. You know, kinda like Mao posters during the Cultural Revolution. If any publisher out there wants an equivalent of a Little Red Book, you know where to contact me.
The debuting Taylor wallows in nostalgia for the readers’ benefit.
A second debut, this one of Dr. Gonzo. Unfortunately, he sounds like me if I ended up writing The Week In Wrestling. But he’s got potential, so let him get his feet wet a bit and get a style that’s all his own (hint hint). “In Memoriam” is my trademark here, kid. You don’t poach from me, got it?
Nute also makes his debut, and he’s going to discuss finishers…what the f*ck is going on at this place? Yeah, it’s tough to get good ideas for columns these days given the creative torpor of WWE and the lack of visibility of TNA, but you have to wonder about the merit of this idea. Finishers require a suspension of belief in order to work. In-depth analysis of them kinda kills the ability to suspend belief in them after the analysis is finished. This is the typical place to cite E. B. White’s comparison between humor and frogs, so just insert it here.
Jeez, I knew we were hiring, but I thought we could do a litle better than this.
On the upside, BFM did an in-studio appearance yesterday at a St. Louis talk station to discuss reality shows (his bailiwick in this great electronic community of social outcasts and misfits that we populate). Not a bad job at all on his part. Unfortunately, the host of the show is a complete retard and the station broadcasts Hannity and Ingraham, not to mention having a plug-in from Hell to get the thing to work online. But that’s beside the point. If you’re a radio host and want to talk about wrestling or 411’s panoply of excitement, I’m usually available. Contact me at the address below, but be quick about it, because I’ve got to move and all that.
MORE FUTURE PLANS AND HOW YOU CAN CHANGE THEM
Raw will be coming your way from Chicago in two weeks. That, of course, is the same night that MNF has Bears/Packers. Jesus, can’t they look at a f*cking schedule or something? Nobody in this town’s going to be paying attention. We’re all going to be hoping that Kordell’s injury is a lot more serious than it looked and that he’ll still be out (damn the bye week).
Now, the only way that you’re getting anything dealing with Raw in this column two weeks from now is if I attend the event live, and I will still be in town at that point. I am an IWC Celebrity. There is no way that I should have to pay for a ticket, and I’m sure WWE trusts no one from this site because of Keith’s books so a comp from them is out of the question. Therefore, if you want Raw information in the September 30th column, you will provide me with a ticket. Floor level. Aisle. No worse than tenth row. I’ll pay for parking at the Horiz…dammit, Allstate Arena, so you’re okay on that basis. It’s so little to ask from you, and you get so much in return.
Anything in the news? Hurricane Isabel, yeah, but since I live in the middle of the US, I don’t give a damn. Just take care if you are in the path. I don’t want less hits. So we have to segue right to the Short Form…
THE SHORT FORM
Match Results:
Chris Jericho versus Rob Van Dam (ND, Christian-ference): Well, I suppose that a Triple Threat at Unforgiven was the most logical option. The most uncreative option too. It’s going to take me a bit of time to parse this match out, because I’ve got to figure out what they’re going to try to do with Jericho. I still have this fear we’re seeing a weirdly-paced face turn here, and I still don’t like that.
Rob Conway over Spike Dudley and His +2 Cervical Collar Of Plot Device (Pinfall, neckbreaker): And this is supposed to excite me about the six-man Sunday in what way? Besides, Conway really has to work on his facial expressions. That was less “homocidal sicko” and more “fifth day of constipation”. Also, what are they going to do about the tag belts? Grenier’s going to do an injury during the six-man in order to rest his back for a month. That puts the tag belts in limbo…wait a second, wasn’t I the one calling for the abolition of the tag belts until they figure out something to do with them that doesn’t involve the Dudleys? Let them go into limbo and f*ck Grenier. Conway and Dupree will be a greater team without him. Now if they’d book it that way and send Grenier to “rehab” at OVW for a long, long while, we’d have the best possible world.
Moolah over Victoria (Pinfall, rollup): Memo to both Randy Orton and Victoria: you do know that beating up Moolah and/or Mae Young has proven to be one of the fastest ways for a heel to turn face, don’t you? Other than that, Happy Birthday, Lil, and thanks for everything you’ve done over those eighty years. It’s definitely something to celebrate.
Rodney Mack and Mark Henry over LanceDust (Pinfall, Henry pins Goldust, fat f*ck slam): Weird, weird booking going on here. The Storm push is working, and people are beginning to get into the more demonstrative Lance. Goldust is helping the situation greatly. So why job them to those two heatless wonders? I’ll never figure them out.
In that vein, quoth Big Daddy (yes, Big Daddy’s back!): OK, so I again muster up the courage to try this RAW thing again. I get Lance and Goldie (which is a good thing, in my book) in a tag match. What I get is 1) a squash, 2) a potential Storm injury judging by his quick departure, and 3) this very strange thought imbedded in my cranium: I’ll be god damned if Mark Henry doesn’t look exactly like that Predator alien with the helmet off. Seriously: the high forehead, the dreadlocks, the whole pissed-off-at-the-world visage? Spot on. OK, so maybe he doesn’t have the “flaring mandibles with the big pointy teeth” thing going on, but go to the tape and tell me I’m wrong.
Ah, if only Jesse the Body was around to call that one, huh? It’d only be appropriate.
Oh, and I’d like to clear one thing up: both Charlie Owens and Antwan Jackson didn’t like when I referred to Mack and Henry as “Niggaz Inc.” a few weeks ago. Of course, they both knew and acknowledged that I was not being racist when doing so. However, the implication is there, and readers who don’t know me may get the impression that I’m denigrating them on a basis other than the fact that they’re untalented and need Teddy Long in order to get any kind of reaction. The “Niggaz Inc.” line was a slam on the angle, which I find uncomfortable to watch. So, I’ll refrain from using it out of respect for Charlie and Antwan. But just to clarify the whole situation regarding them: I love Teddy Long, I don’t like Henry or Mack, and I certainly don’t like the angle. Hope that explains things.
Molly Holly and Gail Kim over The Fallen Madonna With The Big Boobies*, Handicap Match (Pinfall, Molly pins Stratus, Molly-Go-Round): Here’s one of Haley’s Little Things: When Gail Kim was holding Trish by the neck over the top turnbuckle, Trish lifted her feet off the ground while Molly was setting up her moves, thus making what Kim was doing look a helluva lot more punishing than it was. Full credit to Trish for that one. And it’s always great to see the Molly-Go-Round too.
Somehow, they made a winning situation out of a major loss when Kim turned out to have the Oopsies in the ring. That’s one of the few things they’ve done right over the past two and a half years, and I have to give them credit. See, I’m not unreasonable. That’s a message to the asshole who wrote me last week telling me to quit so that a “wrestling fan” can start writing news here. Here’s another message to him: f*ck you.
* – Having used that Allo, Allo quote at the top, it becomes almost obligatory to use that particular reference as well. Croft and Lloyd will forgive me, I think. I doubt Hyatte will, though.
Val Venis over Test (Pinfall, Uranage): Heat main event, Heat announcers. Better get used to it. You know damn well that Coachman and Snow will go over on Sunday. At least we’ll have a month and a half or so (until Survivor Series) of Lawler and Ross-free Raw. That has to be beneficial.
Memo to Andrew Martin: After you go over on Sunday (the only logical result), may I suggest that your orders to Big Sump Pump include something involving a burro and a small quantity of Ass Cream ™?
Jerry Lawler over Al Snow (Pinfall, inside cradle): First Moolah, now Lawler. And we made fun of Nitro for having all the old guys? Jeez, I hope they book the match Sunday better than they booked this one. Of course, it was supposed to be impromptu and all that, so…oh, f*ck giving them leeway. No more leeway on anything. Strict judgment only. If it ain’t Benoit/Angle, it ain’t good. Of course, this is the probable last match of the night, so I can’t apply that scale. Shit.
Angle Developments:
Yet Another Shoot Promo: In this case, the shooters were Christian and Jericho in the opening promo. Everything they said about Austin was, in my opinion, complete shoot. The fact that “creative” can’t figure out that Austin is a spent force isn’t my fault, but it is my responsibility to point out how dull he really is. I do that with as much repetition as an Austin promo, true, but, let’s face it, you people need this fact pounded through your heads. Stop cheering for the asshole so we can get him off our screens once and for all.
Quoth the Ravin’ Cajun:
So, let me get this straight. Week in and week out, we had LOADS of time available for whatever “my dick is bigger than yours” speech Trips, Flex, Austin or any McMahon (including Steph) had to give for this month’s ritual sacrifi- uhm, opponent at the PPV. But Jericho has a match starting up? Quick, get that commercial started before we run out of time! We make jokes about the 20 minute opening promos but those jokes are grounded in reality. By my count, ten minutes from the start of the show to the commercial break om the RVD-Jericho match (and I’m sure you noted that one of those commercials was for Flex’s new movie). Nice showing of priorities, Fed- though I will say no matter what, Christopher Walken whining out an “Oww!” always provokes a chuckle.
Every time one of those pimps for Flex’s new movie comes on, I leave the room. Most of the time, I have an excuse to do so (namely doing this column). However, I make it a point to leave the room. But you’re damn right about Jericho. The treatment he’s received for the past four years from this company has been at best bad and at worst abysmal (and that includes the title reign). Why is he still being punished?
A Veterinary Query: If Bisch and Mae Young lock lips, who has to get shots?
Blow-Off: Skipped the whole contract signing, but caught the beatdown. You know, I still mark out a little for a Shane Flying Elbow, even when they have to set up a fake, draped announce table ringside…wait a second…couldn’t Shane just have got a table out from under the ring? You know, one that was left over from the Dudleys/Frogs mess earlier? Of course, it wouldn’t have the psychological impact of the announce table…but you’ve got to also wonder if it was originally a Spanish announce table. And where are the Spanish announcers situated nowadays?
I’m contemplating what an announce table is doing somewhere it isn’t supposed to me and what the state of its existence is. My life is now complete.
Oh, it was supposed to be for Coachman and Snow? Never mind. Now its existence becomes too sad to contemplate.
Don’t Call It A Comeback: Apparently the guy in the front row with the “Bring Back Lita” sign doesn’t go on the Net. We knew she’d be back tonight, and it was just a matter of how she’d be. Very effective in that regard, I must admit. Nice DDT to boot. Of course, with Lita back and with Jackie a known quantity, the entire balance of power in the Women’s Division is in Ivory’s hands. Face, heel, or stuck on Heat? That question must be answered.
Paradox: How can Trip have so much stroke backstage, virtually the power of career life or death over people, and yet still accept the most mind-numbingly boring promo material to use? That mic going out must have been the best thing to happen to the arena audience all night. Too bad we could still hear him flounder. Credit for him attempting to keep up the act during the house mic outage, though. But when I paid more attention to him flicking the balloons away in a nicely arrogant fashion rather than what he was saying…there’s a problem.
Until tomorrow, I remain as is and leave you with this message: Fuck Ben and J.Lo.
