In Memoriam: Barbaro. He’s not the only colt that’ll be put down this week, though.
In Memoriam II: Chico Chism, who gave Howlin’ Wolf and so many others the best rhythm possible.
They’re toying with everybody.
That’s the only explanation. They’re just toying with everybody.
They are just that much better than their peers. They have no competition. Watching them play is like facing the inevitable. The only vibe I get from them is the same one I got watching Michael Jordan for all those years: they’re going to be regarded as the best ever, and it’s a privilege to watch, but, damn, let’s inject a little mystery once in a while, okay?
It was 110 degrees down in Australia, but Federererer didn’t break a sweat for two weeks. How do you go through a Grand Slam and not even come close to dropping a set? The only competition he has is himself at this point. Nadal’s a complete diva on clay, but there’s no one else close. If Rog has two more years like last year, he’ll break Sampras’ majors record at Wimbledon next year, when he’s 26. Twenty Grand Slams is not only a possibility, it’s almost in the bank. He’s already halfway there, and no one’s stepping up. He’ll end up retiring out of boredom like Graf or Borg did, especially if he takes a French Open. That’s the only thing he has left. It’s sick, really. We were all waiting for men’s tennis to break out of the doldrums, and it did, but then went straight into the other direction. It’s become a freak show.
And you can compound that with the little adventure at Torrey Pines this weekend. You just know what happened Friday night. You know what he was thinking. “Okay, seven back, they’ve had their fun. CLICK!” Then he puts an ass-whipping on the field on Saturday, gets nice and close, then shuts the door on Sunday. And even then he provides a moment of sadism, driving into the trap on 18, like he did the previous two days, and then flubbing his approach, just to give poor Trip Howell a glimmer of hope. The standard classification for such a person is “sociopath”.
You know he’s looking ahead at the US Open schedule. He can f*ck around this year with it (unless he scores at Augusta (it is his year to win, after all) and he wants that second Tiger Slam), but then…Torrey Pines in 2008. Torrey Pines is his bitch, as was proven yet again this weekend. Then 2009 at Bethpage and 2010 at Pebble, where he’s already won US Opens. Three (or four) in a row? Fuck, why not? There are only two things from writing him in for a third Open Championship in a row: Elin’s due date and whether or not he can conquer the truly psychotic, f*cked-up layout the R&A will have at Carnoustie. And you have to remember that in 1999, he was only three strokes out of that playoff that ended the most bizarre, screwed-up major in recent history (the 2006 US Open notwithstanding).
He can win at will. Whenever he wants to. There’s nothing stopping him. There’s no one that can stop him, not on a consistent basis. The FedEx Cup is already an anti-climax, unless Veej finds the Fountain Of Youth And Accurate Putting or Trip Howell starts playing up to his full potential (and can actually win a tournament between now and Augusta). He’s going to actively arrange it to create the most earth-shattering day in the history of golf. April 10th, 2011: Tigger puts on the green jacket for the seventh time, winning his nineteenth major and his eighty-third PGA Tour victory. He can do it. He can align the stars to make it happen. And then it’s all eyes on Congressional to see if he can make it twenty, because that’s the only thing that we can think.
To paraphrase Bobby Jones, both of them play games with which I am not familiar. And I’m going to have to figure them out.
Unlike the Royal Rumble, where I refuse to figure out what they’re thinking, because my sanity is precarious to begin with. Ah, but don’t I have something else to comment on before I get to that? Yes, I do.
I just can’t insult the Indianapolis Colts. They’re too good to insult. They have to be respected. It’s not that they’re the closest AFC team to Civilization or anything like that; I-65 through Indiana is almost as boring as I-80 through Iowa. It’s just that…well, they’re good. It’s not their fault that their whore of a quarterback had a mental block for years regarding the Faggots. Hatred is too difficult to muster up. Yes, the Bears will win the game (and if we have a Round Table in Tailgate Crashers regarding the game, I’ll give you a final score and my MVP there), but it’s going to be a good contest. These aren’t the Faggots they’re facing, where my hatred would be evident and I’d predict a score of 46-10 just because. Manning will shill anything, but at least he’s verifably heterosexual and a father and husband instead of a man-whore who dates supermodels, actresses, and goats. Their coach may be the most dignified team leader in any major sport in the world (with the possible exception of Avery Johnson), a credit to any community he’s a part of, up to and including the human race. It’s impossible to hate Dungy, unlike the overrated unarrested vagrant patrolling the sidelines for the Faggots. And Marvin Harrison has had the most quiet Hall of Fame career in the history of the game. My only regret for him is that, someday, he has to visit that pisshole Canton. Hey, I lived there for a year, so I know what I’m talking about.
It’s more fun to insult the sports scribes, all of whom visibly lost interest the moment the Faggots and the Aints were eliminated, since their East Coast Bias and feel-good stories went away like the five thousand out of Reggie Bush’s pocket for daring to taunt Urlacher (who should have went with his instincts and did what George, Butkus, or Samurai would have done: beat the living piss out of him; the entire city would have chipped in to pay the fine). In an age of total media saturation, si.com and espn.com have been eerily silent as to the event on Sunday. Aw, poor bubelahs. What will we do without the national media giving a shit? Same thing we did in 2005 during the World Series: party our asses off when our team wins. And in this instance, that goes for both sides. Indy’s been dissed too. It’s a pretty nice city, actually, somewhere I wouldn’t mind living, close enough to Chicago and attempting to be Chicago, only with more angle streets. Indy residents should take umbrage at this Cone Of Silence.
Fuck ’em. I won’t take them seriously until Peter King learns how to properly navigate around the area and Doctor Z admits that he’s a f*cking wino who had his talent scrubbed away when he was stationed in Noo Yawk. They’ll give a job to the Imbecile Bill Simmons, but not to the great writers we’ve got in Tailgate Crashers (at least our guys don’t hate on mustaches like the Retard did in his Monday column; f*ck you, Simmons, at least I can grow facial hair, you estrogen-riddled Brady-humping cuntrag). And si.com should really hire Widro to do their site, because that new design blows dogs. Anyone with intelligence is running Firefox with NoScript, so relying so heavily on JavaScript is a non-starter. Of course, they still use less than espn.com, but that’s not saying much.
So, bring it on. Bring on the ads, bring on Prince, and bring on a Bears win. Next week, I’ll be splooging all over this column and do my annual ad recap once the giddiness goes down to a tolerable level.
On to the column, I guess…
THE PIMP SECTION
Vinny, you’re preaching to the converted. But the only way to get that sense of mystery back is to eliminate the title stip, something I’ve been going on about for years.
Uh, Bambi, “$100 dollars” reads out as “one hundred dollars dollars”. This is a MAJOR pet peeve of mine.
Wilson had the Tokyo Dome Show to occupy himself while the rest of us were concentraing on Royal Rumble. Those wacky puro guys.
Warner Brothers knows a little something about cartoons without needing to own DC Comics, Brashear. Just ask me about it sometime.
Please, Paul, stop using Word to do your columns. You know that those formatting codes munge our submission system. If you need some advice on free and good text editors, please contact me.
That goes for you too, Daniels. And you could have been more sincere with that pick.
Fernandez is correct. “Don’t Dream It’s Over” was a bigger hit than “Something So Strong” and “World Where You Live”. The former went to #2 on the singles charts, while “Something So Strong” went to #6, and “World Where You Live”, despite being my favorite song from Crowded House’s debut, wasn’t released as a single in the US. When it comes to Eighties music, you can always come to me. But only after I take lots and lots of drugs to forget about that pic of Pete Burns in the column. Oh, my God.
Wind is pulling a sub for Smith this week (who really does have some problems right now that are taking his focus away from here), and explains to us that his wife can’t do comparison shopping.
Mackay is helpful this week, since I haven’t been able to get to Galactica yet.
After the elections, when my concentration camp dreams come true, the most horrendous tortures and the biggest-hung Rottweiler will be reserved for Lake and her shitty poetry.
THE ROYAL SCAM
It’s at times like these that I’m reminded that Steely Dan took their name from the fourteen-inch dildo in William Burroughs’ Naked Lunch, and that someone at WWE takes gleeful joy in using it on my poor, battered anus. Actually, it’s a surprise that it’s even able to get in. Everyone knows how much of a tight-ass I am. Maybe they’re secretly giving me whiffs of amyl nitrate or something. Hey, give me enough of it, and maybe the booking here will start to make a little bit of sense.
And we start off with a match that seems to be confusing about half the staff, the Special Reunion Match between MNM and the Faerie Princes. Yeah, that thrills the living f*ck out of me. I can stand MNM, but I got sick of the Hardys a long, long time ago. I knew they’d go over and said so in the Round Table, so I was psychologically prepared for that eventuality, despite hoping that I was wrong. Everything depended on how much offense they’d let MNM have. Fortunately, it was enough to make it tolerable to watch. Nothing really special about this one, not after they blew the wad with the Ladder Match. So what happens if they continue this feud in the sporadic, spastic fashion that they’ve been? What can they do for Wrestlemania? The only thing I can think of is a cage match, and even that would be unsatisfying unless all four guys went batshit in there and turned it into AMW/XXX. And one of the Hardys gets killed. We can’t forget that part.
The thing I was most disappointed about was the announce team. Why Ross and Lawler? After all, half of the competitors are on Smackdown. Shouldn’t it have been a mixed announce team? It would have perked up this increasingly desperate beginning to have Ross and Layfield do the announcing for this one. Or, hell, just throw it over to Joey and Tazz, so it would have given them something to do other than that abysmal Lashley/Test match.
I can never get enough of seeing Jeffykins kicked
I think you know where I’d go with this caption, so I won’t bother
And then came the first weird booking decision of the night. Look, ECW’s a dead man walking right now. Even WWE has said that its only purpose in what remains of its life is to push Lashley. So what’s a better push than a chase for the title culminating at Wrestlemania? At least it would be something to inject a little bit of interest in ECW. Also, a title switch would have given them a good opportunity to see what they really have in Test. He’s got the potential to be a permanent upper-mid-card fixture, most probably on Raw, after ECW goes down for the third time; he’s shown that during this latest heel run. Now that they’ve totally soured on Punk, Test is the only other asset that they have on that show. Let’s see what he’s worth by giving him a harmless title run. After all, that’s what they’ve done for Lashley, and he seems to have improved his situation. Instead, they proceeded to screw that up with that asinine ending, which proceeded to wreck Test.
Or does all of that make too much sense for them?
You know, I’ve never noticed this, but Test has pretty good thighs
The only thing I’m wondering about in regard to the Smackdown title match is how three people in the Round Table picked FudgePacker. Yeah, most of them were thinking DQ Ending, but they didn’t realize one thing: that match had to end clean in Batista’s favor to blow off this feud and move DAVE on to UT. Regardless of whether UT won the Rumble, the collision course had to be set for Wrestlemania. That meant throwing FudgePacker over the side. What about UT interference? Unnecessary and inappropriate, because UT’s issue with FudgePacker also had to be blown off. This one, they did right. Imagine my shock.
Of course, it need not be said that High-Quality Speaker Boy is exactly right about Green Bay. Damn, I love him. Hate his politics, but love him.
Yeah, DAVE, that’s exactly what I’d do if I had to look at him from that angle
I was equally surprised that a passel of Round Tablers chose Jamalga to beat Cena in a match in which there was a no-disqualification stipulation. The opportunity for Jamalga was last month, and they blew that launch window. What purpose would a Jamalga win have served? Raw has no PPVs between now and Wrestlemania. They wouldn’t do a world title change on free PPV these days if their lives depended on it. We all know that there’s no way that Vince would NOT let Cena main-event WM; Cena would literally have to be dying for that to happen. There was no way that Cena was going to lose this match with a no-DQ situation happening. Come on, guys, think for once, okay? And, my God, Scooter, what were you on that you gave this thing four snowflakes?
That’s right, grovel, you useless piece of shit
And then we come to the main event of Retard-Fest…excuse me? Oh, it’s you, Your Majesty. You have something to say?
Uh oh, now you’ve done it, WWE. She hasn’t had a very good last couple of days. The Rumble results, Barbaro (you know how much she loves horses), and especially the SAGs. She’s one pissed-off octogenarian. Oh, you know that she’s going to go Elvis on her TV on Oscar night…well, no, she won’t. She’s a classy lady. She’ll send Mirren a congratulatory telegram, give her a life peerage during the next Birthday Honours, then consult with MI5 on how to knock her off without leaving a trace. She may be classy, but don’t f*ck with her.
What was I saying? Oh, yes, I was about to demonstrate the low level of intelligence of WWE booking and those who actually predicted this result (hi, boss, and this is what you get for blowing your own horn). Let’s go from the first principle, the same one that I discussed in last week’s Smackdown Short Form: the Undertaker did NOT need to win the Rumble Match. There were any number of ways to set up the WM title match on a basis of Streak Versus Title, with no need to turn anyone. They could have used Booker as the fulcrum, as I discussed (apparently he’s getting Next on DAVE). They could have used FudgePacker, God help us. They could have used Porter. They could have used Finlay. They could have used all of them and had a five-way Ladder Match with the WM contract hanging above the ring, which would have been a damn nice main event for No Way Out. Or throw Kane into the mix and do an Elimination Chamber (anything to remove the taste of December To Dismember from our mouths). As I said, there were any number of ways to bring us from Point A to Point B. They chose the express lane, and left a conundrum.
The Smackdown main for WM was pretty much set in stone. We all knew it’d be DAVE/UT. The real mystery was Raw’s main event, and it’s still a mystery. Raw doesn’t have the advantage of a PPV to get something set up. They needed to get something done post-haste so they could promote the hell out of it. Here’s a dirty little secret that they don’t want you to know: Cena sells merch, but he doesn’t put asses in seats. They need something special to come out of Raw for WM. Is anyone feeling a warm glow about a Triple Threat between Cena, Edge, and Orton? Thought not. But Cena/Michaels, that’s a money match. We all know that Michaels would make Cena look like an actual wrestler. “But you’d have to turn Michaels!” Bullshit. You could do it in one of two ways. First, on a purely “respect” basis. This would work, especially with Michaels’ new-found intensity. The other way is to have Michaels claim that maybe his fallen partner couldn’t do it last year, but he could make up for that this year. Why the hell not? They did it last year with Rey-Rey. Plus, they have the advantage of Trip still being alive to deal with the aftermath once he gets healthy. Plus the second, you’d still have a face/heel match if it was Michaels. You know damn well Cena’s gonna get the f*ck booed out of him in Detroit. It’s not going to be as bad as it was in Chicago, but that’s because we have more taste and class than people from Detroit. In fact, if that Triple Threat goes off, that crowd is going to turn Edge face. You can bank on that.
And if there’s a Triple Threat, what do you do with Michaels? Cross-brand match again? If so, who does he go against? Booker and Finlay are the only choices. Both would be good matches. Michaels/Finlay would be an incredible match. But there’s no oomph behind it. Booker’s been made to look weak lately, and will look weaker after No Way Out. They’re still not certain about Finlay in the ring (but they’ll listen to him in regard to Punk). Right now, Shawn Michaels is the hottest property on Raw, hotter than Cena. Not taking advantage of that heat is short-sighted, misguided, and just plain f*cked up. And I’m going to ignore Da Meltz saying that his WM involvement will be linked with Donald Trump. I’m sorry, but no matter what you think Michaels did, no matter how much you still blame him for Montreal, Scooter, he doesn’t deserve that.
The missed opportunities in this match are legion. Let’s take this as an example: your Final Four was Michaels, UT, Edge, and Orton. Now, one of the long-lasting memes in WWE programming has been the rivalry between brands. Do you see a chance here to assist the rebuilding of that animosity? Michaels making common cause with Edge and Orton to get rid of UT would have emphasized that rivalry better than any other moment over the past couple of years. They may hate each other, they may be beating the crap out of each other, but when it comes down to brass tacks, they’re all Raw, and they have a chance to make certain that Raw wins the Rumble Match this year. They can settle it between themselves after they TCB and get rid of Smackdown’s last chance. Emphasize this point with spastic bleatings from Lawler and High-Quality Speaker Boy going into a Heenanesque “Be Fair To UT” spiel. Then, after UT’s eliminated, use this moment to start conflict between Coachman and Long, which will lead to a couple of interbrand matches at WM. It’s called “planning ahead” and “use of logic”, along with a good dose of “cause and effect”. Things happen for a reason. When you’re doing Sports Entertainment, you have to create the reasons, and you do so using a sense of logical connections that can be easily understood by the audience. This belief, more than any other reason, is why I will never work for WWE. They won’t hire me because I have brains and intelligence, large amounts of both.
(By the way, I am pleased to have got two of the Final Four correct. Of course, one of them was my eventual winner, and the spot that was filled by Orton could have easily been filled by Edge, which would have made me right either way. It was literally a coin-flip situation on which name I was going to throw in there. Van Dam was in my Final Four because I actually believed, foolish me, that they’d throw ECW a bone and give them a long-lasting survivor in the match prior to his eventual elimination. Van Dam was the best candidate, being a fan favorite, a face, and someone who you knew wouldn’t win anyway.)
And why destroy the mystique of never having the #30 entrant win? Especially since that person was UT, who drew #30 for the third time in his Rumble career? The victory also ended up destroying something that was nice in the Legend of the Undertaker. It’s something that one of espn.com’s resident retards discussed on Monday. One of the reasons why Peyton Manning is so likeable is that he has that sense of vulnerability in never having won the Big One. A Super Bowl victory (not this year, of course) would remove the one thing that makes him interesting. UT is the same way. Never having won the Rumble Match gave him a nice sense of incompleteness on the old CV. Every year, we’d come in wondering whether this was finally the year. In the meantime, he built up his credentials to such a point that this was an anticlimax. John Elway didn’t need to win those two Super Bowls; he was headed to the Hall of Fame regardless. It was just nice that the wins happened. That’s the way I feel about UT right now. Hey, it’s nice that he finally won one, but it’s irrelevant. The Rumble Match should not be wasted on feel-goods and irrelevants, as they’ve been the last two years. How much more relevant would it have been for Michaels to have won, in his home town (and, oh, did that decision get the boo birds out), eleven years after his last Rumble victory? I can tell you exactly how it feels, because I watched and still remember the 1986 Masters. Yes, it would have been feel-good, but it would have been feel-good with a purpose, namely setting up one of the few not-overdone money matches Raw has left that works at WM level.
This whole situation is utterly imbecilic. It causes far more problems than it solves. In fact, it solves no problems at all. All it did was cemented a fait accompli. This leaves more of a bad impression than anything they had f*cking Khali do in there. Everyone knew he’d be getting the Kevin Nash Blowjob Push anyway because he’s going to be involved with the whole Hogan situation at WM (even if it’s only as Shane’s spit-boy). They call golf “a good walk spoiled”. This Rumble Match was the dog crap you accidentally tread in during that walk.
One of the few things in wrestling that can make me feel young
Finlay had to be disinfected afterward
Gotta love Edge for that deer-in-headlights look
This is what Nitro gets for those damn furry boots
Two of my Final Four going at it
The Wellness Policy forces WWE stars to take Nap Time seriously
It’s especially important for the older superstars
Puerto Rican Handball is the national sport of the Punjab
And entering on the cloud of bullshit already emerging from his victory…
And that’s that
I think it’s now come down the point where I’ve subconsciously realized that the lack of quality wrestling doesn’t piss me off enough anymore (although Raw certainly gives me weekly conniptions in that area). Sad-ass booking that I can’t for the life of me figure out, even with tools like circular logic and long observation of retards, does. This was a prime example of sad-ass booking. Last year’s extravaganza upset me for reasons of obvious and blatant bad taste. This year’s edition didn’t even have that excuse. I think I’m upset because of something that I explained above: this whole PPV had absolutely zero purpose. A major PPV should at least have that. Hell, there was a purpose behind WM9, disturbingly self-serving though it was. But this one? Useless. Normally I save that charge for No Way Out. This year, I have to bring it out early. And that’s the most upsetting thing of all.
Oh, God, let’s go see what the other side’s up to. No, not ROH; we already have a passel of guys covering their every movement. I’m talking about the boys in Orlando, who had a little taping on Monday night…
IMPACT SOMEWHAT SPOILED
Actually, I ended up doing the full spoilers since I’m the only one awake during the middle of the night thanks to this f*cking job. Fingers was too tired to even do a C&P on the hackmail from Woj-Suck, so I just went over to 1bullshit Junior and did my own thing to Trionfo’s results. Go to the main wrestling page and find it if you care. If this was next week, I’d link you there myself (and, yes, there is a reason for doing so next week but not now; don’t ask, it’s something us staff know about and you don’t need to).
And that takes us yet again to another episode of Raw. After doing the whole Impact schmeer, I was tired and needed some sleep, so I got some, woke up rested and refreshed, and ready to put myself through two hours of mind-numbing nonsense. Again, I do it for you. Besides, it’s good prep for the DVD reviews that I have to get done this week.
THE SHORT FORM
Match Results:
Shelton Benjamin and Charlie Haas over Shad and JTG (Pinfall, Benjamin pins Shad, Haas DDT): Well, Cryme Time had to lose sometime. But have they lost the confidence of anyone backstage? Not necessarily. You see, thanks to the events of this evening, there needs to be a credible, high-level heel tag team in waiting, and Haas and Benjamin are definitely high-level and credible. They’re the way to get the tag straps back into the tag division, and the solution to what’s become a vexing problem. This win makes total sense not in the context of the show, but in the context of the tag division as a whole. Hope that you’ve realized that.
If people insist on calling Lashley “Black Lesnar” despite the joke having been run into the ground, can we start calling Benjy “Black Flair”?
Okay, maybe not “Black Flair” just yet, but “Black Storm”? No, sounds way too Marvel.
Melina Perez over Maria Kanelis, First Contender’s Match, Her Words, Not Mine (Submission, inverted bridge STF): So, does that settle the women’s match at Wrestlemania? No, afraid it doesn’t. Expect a multiple participant match, with the rumor mill going into complete overdirve now that Armed and Famous has been cancelled.
Maria hasn’t got a handle on this whole lesbian thing yet
Jamalga over Val Venis (Pinfall, Samoan Spike): And you thought that only Impact indulged in gratuitious abuse of Canadians. Why isn’t Scooter up in arms about this?
Well, that’s one way to distract him…
Carly Colon and Super Crazy over Chris Master and My Illegitimate Son Ken Doane (Pinfall, Colon pins Masters, backcracker): A reading from the Book of Gewirtz:
And, yea, there shall come a day in which God himself shall proclaim that, on this day, he shall appreciate his faithful, and signs shall be seen of the peace that can be brought to the world. The lion shall lay down with the lamb, and a Puerto Rican shall tag team with a Mexican. And there shall be such peace that the Puerto Rican and the Mexican shall defeat the bastard of a truly great man, and the sire shall be embarassed by the son’s red and gold trunks, which remind him of a certain vegetable company that refused to hire the great man, woe be unto them.
So ends our reading.
Crazy takes Masters out for a spin
The Great Khali over Jeffykins, Intercontinental Title Match (COR): Yes, I promised references to pedophilia and new obscenities never seen before, but this match was so mind-numbingly disturbing and atrocious that I’ve lost the will to live.
As Khali sadistically prolongs this match
Shawn Michaels and John Cena over Randy Orton and Edge, Tag Title Match (Pinfall, Cena pins Orton, F-U, New Tag Champions): Well, color me foolish. Here I was, racking my brain for months trying to figure out exactly who in the name of hell could get the tag straps off of Edge and Orton, and, being silly, I looked in the tag ranks to find that pair, and couldn’t do so. And here I thought they wouldn’t prolong the abundant silliness of having yet another pair of singles stars with nothing else to do as the people to accomplish this mission. Never mind that the tag scene on Smackdown, after a prolonged period of lethargy, is starting to thrive again, and that the Faerie Princes and MNM are reuniting on an ad-hoc basis and that La Res is about to get back together on a permanent basis. No, ignore the signs of life regarding tag teams. The strippers of the straps had to be two singles superstars united for a one-night thing and forced to team up for the near future.
Gosh, I must be so f*cking silly to think that an actual tag team should hold the tag straps, mustn’t I?
Everybody take it to the top, we’re gonna stomp, all night…
Angle Developments:
This should have happened as a definite…oh, yeah, I’ll keep harping on it
Location, Location, Location: Listening to that pimp of One-Man Gang during the This Week segment, I have to wonder if the Gang would have described himself as being from Halsted Street today. It all depends where on Halsted we’re talking about. If it was anywhere south of 55th, he’s sort of the wrong color (until Slick took care of that, of course). The area around the Stockyards is industrial devastation. Around Roosevelt? He’s got the same problem there that Cunt Cabana has in describing himself as being from Maxwell Street, namely the fact that the yuppified townhouses undercut the tough workingman image. Just north of downtown? Again, industrial wasteland and the still-scarring spectre of what remains of Cabrini-Green. Just north of that, around North and Clybourn? Yuppies again, and I don’t think, for some reason, that OMG is a patron of Steppenwolf Theater. And if you go north of there, that’s Boys’ Town. Admittedly, there are some bars there that do cater to men of OMG’s stature and image, but I have this feeling he wouldn’t fit in that well. This is definitely a case of knowing too much, I guess.
Hey, if it keeps her away from my boy, anything
What do you mean, “transferred to Reality Dish”? FINGERS!!!
That closes this out yet again. Another nice, long, bitter column that should earn Aaron’s praise. Hey, it’s all I have to live for at this point. Until ECW or a DVD review, ta.
