In Memoriam: Carlo Ponti. Not only a great movie producer, but he bagged Sophia Loren. That latter accomplishment made him the envy of every red-blooded man on Earth. It says a lot about where we are today. Most female movie stars are stank hos, and no one envies the men who f*ck them.
In Memoriam II: Yvonne DeCarlo. The Munsters actually overshadowed a pretty good career in Hollywood, despite her status as a B Level Starlet for much of it. Underestimated as an actress, really.
Nothing in the news, so it’s on to the show…
Bob Holly over CM Fuckin’ Punk (Pinfall, Alabama Slam): Well, this was ECW’s last good match available, and it’s nice to see they used it for curtain-jerking purposes. Please tell me again why Dave Lagana is allowed to breathe the same oxygen as me. At least they gave it a lot of time.
However, there was added entertainment value. As we all know, Brad Armstrong is on commentary (and ‘ludes) because there is a good chance that Tazz will be departing in a couple of months when his contract is up. So, this is an on-air tryout and a get-comfy session with Joey. Nothing’s that simple with WWE, though. It’s obvious that neither Joey nor Tazz want him there. They are doing everything in their power to sabotage any chance that Armstrong has of getting the ECW color job should Tazz leave. These actions have been there before, but this match made them absolutely clear; they’ve never been this blatant before. Stepping all over Armstrong’s contributions to the match call, not playing along with his jokes (it’s been said that he’s a laugh riot, but you wouldn’t know it from his calls), treating him rather brusquely…all the signs are there of active interference. The good news out of this is that it’s pretty clear that Tazz wants to stay despite the greener pastures of satellite radio. Of course, compared with calling ECW matches these days, getting ass-f*cked by radioactive mutant guard dogs in the loading area of a Jersey chemical factory is greener pastures.
Punk and Holly warm up for their photo spread in the new edition of The Hardcore Kama Sutra
The Great (hee hee) Khali over Tommy Dreamer, Extreme Rules Match (Pinfall, chokeslam): Two nights in a row? Well, at least we don’t have to see him on Tuesdays anymore (ditto Daivari, who’s finally going where he belongs, namely to Smackdown and the cruisers). We’ll get our fill of him on Mondays from now until the end of March, though.
The symbolism here is overwhelming
Kevin Fertig over Shannon Moore (Pinfall, Dark Kiss): In my write-up about the Undertaker in the 2006 Awards column, I gave credit to Calloway for getting what seemed like just another no-hope gimmick over. I think a similar level of credit, adjusted for the level of show, should be given to Kevin Fertig. Remember, this gimmick was made because of Sci-Lie’s insistence that ECW tie in to their standard programming a little more. Therefore, this was forced on Fertig. The fact that he has it over at all is a credit to him and to Ariel’s pneumatic tits. And that schoolgirl outfit. Oh, yes, we mustn’t forget the schoolgirl outfit. So many kinks, so little time.
Fertig’s a busy man, so he practices for his EMT license when he has time
Rob Van Dam over Bobby Lashley, ECW Title Rematch (DQ, Test-ference): Oh, God, not again. And now with extra added Test in the mix. Three-way at Royal Rumble, methinks? Yeah, that’s the way they’re going with this. Yipes.
Lashley’s looking for love in all the wrong places
Emotional Stasis: Wasn’t Test, once upon a time, actually a decent promo guy? I’m not talking great, but at least at Benoit’s level or higher. During his little backstage thing with Mickey Jay, he had all the emotion of Chris Leak and all the believability of Dubbaya talking about Iraq. Maybe Mistah Martin was actually thinking about all the opportunity he once had that vanished in front of his eyes. What’s his lowest moment? T&A, probably. So what happened to his cohorts? The rookie bimbo manager who couldn’t cut a promo to save her life and had the range and expression of a pine 2X4 became the greatest woman’s wrestler of her generation, both in-ring and in SE matters. The hirsute pincushion that was his partner is now getting the blowjob push of the ages over in Japan. And he’s stuck on the #3 show bitching and moaning about not getting title shots and, in general, trying to prevent himself slipping out of what passes for an upper-mid-card. It’s situations like this where suicide is indeed an option.
“I really have to feud with this guy? Call my agent!”
Be sure to stay tuned for Impact and Smackdown, along with yet another damn Round Table for this weekend. Ta.