In Memoriam: Joe Hunter. Normally, I don’t go as far back as Friday, but he deserves it, if only for the piano riff on “Heat Wave”. All those other great Motown piano lines are the icing on an incredibly rich cake.
In Memoriam II: Gian Carlo Menotti. I always felt he never got the recognition as a composer that he deserved, but his acclaim as a conductor made up for it.
In Memoriam III: Charles Scripps, one of the last holdouts from the days when newspaper moguls had a sense of public trust and a code of ethics.
Hmmm, this is slightly a bitch. On Saturday, in zero-degree weather, I had to go out and get a new keyboard and mouse because both of them were shot to hell. It does take a little time to get used to a new keyboard at the speed that I type. Probably about a month or so given previous experience. It doesn’t have the feel of my old keyboards, especially the space bar. So, if there are typos, I can’t catch them all.
Now, on to other shit. Ah, yes, the Super Bowl…LOOK! OVER THERE! IT’S MOTHRA! AND LORD VOLDEMORT IS RIDING HIM! LOOK!
Okay, so that didn’t work. Fucking Gross-Out. And things started out so well for them. The worst thing about this is that the King of East Coast Bias, f*cking Hulse, was right. I can’t stand any of those cocksuckers in Tailgate Crashers to be right about anything, not after what went down in 2005 regarding the World Series and their continuous bleating about everyone other than the eventual winners (an attitude that still continues to this day; Tierney went lazy with his baseball awards and simply nominated the eight teams that made the playoffs, ignoring a certain 90-win team that finished with a better record than the eventual World Series champions and not nominating Jermaine Dye for Player of the Year, that cunt). Or for that matter all those cocksuckers at si.com to be right. I wanted to be able to tell Dr. Z to go shove a bottle of Boone’s Farm up his ass. The thing is, I need an excuse to do that out of a sense of propriety and professionalism. Let’s face it, the Beloved were doomed the moment that motherf*cker The Imbecile Bill Simmons picked them. He’s the goddamn kiss of death. The only thing I can hope now from them is that they shut the f*ck up about Manning and Dungy.
There’s a silver lining in this for me, though. I’ve been calling him “Gross-Out” since he was drafted. Since then, he’s done nothing to justify me changing my opinion. I have very low opinions of anyone who went through the Spurrier System, and this was the final knife. I’m loving the apologists here. “Oh, he went 13-3 in his first full season as a starter. He’s a winner.” Please note that, under that criterion, Kyle Orton was also a winner. Fuck it, folks. The only problem in getting rid of him and sticking with Griese until someone else can learn is that there’s no one good at #31. Maybe if Brohm had come out, but not now. And don’t talk to me about Troy Smith. The last thing I need is for someone from The Ohio State University quarterbacking my team.
Plus, I stayed up to watch this turd, thus decreasing my necessary sleep, thus putting me in a bad mood, in between the game and the ads for prostate medication and the blathering of Phil Simms, another East Coast Bias f*ck. This isn’t going to be a good column. I’m just not in the mood to write a good one. So let’s move on to the most important part of the broadcast.
I ACTUALLY PAID ATTENTION TO MORE THAN THE ADS THIS YEAR, BUT I PREFER TO TALK ABOUT THE ADS
Not a great selection of ads this year, regrettably. No major blockbusters, not that many celebrity appearances. However, it’s a tradition in this column. So, let’s look at the winners…
“Mouse Abuse”, Blockbuster Online: Oooh, that was actually painful to watch. But terrific. However, I’ll never use Blockbuster if my life depended on it, so a wasted effort, despite being quality.
“Meet Cute”, Doritos: This was one of the fan-created commercials, and it showed a thousand times more imagination and much better execution than anything from an ad agency. Great little spot, and now I have a craving for Doritos.
“Moon Office”, FedEx: Okay, I’m a mark for any ad that features Europe’s “The Final Countdown”
“Auctioneer Wedding”, Bud Lite: As usual, Anheuser-Busch comes through with a winner. All weddings should be like that, really.
“Car Repair”, Snickers: Ads like this make me happy to not have very much chest hair. However, you just know that GLAAD’s going to be up in arms about this. Too bad for them, because if they don’t have a sense of humor, f*ck ’em…well, not in that way.
“Language Class”, Bud Lite: Yeah, another winner. Now if my employees could catch on to the fact that the ability to speak English while in the US is useful.
“Coke Theft Auto”, Coca-Cola: The dancing rats did it for me. Between this commercial and the news that the Florida Bar is finally trying to disbar Jack Thompson, it’s all good.
“Am I Gonna Have To Slap A Bitch?”, Bud Light: Oh, please, let this catch on. Because I WILL find a pair of brass knucks.
“Robot Suicide”, Chevrolet: Because Eric Carmen gets some residuals, which he deserves, and because it’s an effectively cute ad.
“Old Folks’ Home”, Coca-Cola: How does someone in the Western World get through three score and ten and not drink a Coke? Despite the atrocious premise, it was an effective ad.
“Bank Robbery”, eTrade: And you wonder why I use ATMs exclusively.
“Vending Machine”, Coca-Cola: Sweet. Of course, everyone knows what a sucker I am for animation, and there was some great imagery in here.
“Goulet”, Emerald Nuts: Any commercial that has Robert Goulet playing Spider-Man is aces in my book. Hell, any commercial that has Robert Goulet, period, is aces.
“Fave Five”, T-Mobile: Gotta pimp them. They’re my mobile provider. But any commercial that disses Charles Barkley is a winner to me.
“Slinging Burgers”, Nationwide: Ditto any commercial that disses K-Fed. And this one does it really, really well.
“Hitchhiker”, Bud Light: This commercial didn’t work until the end, when the axe murderer is scared of the chainsaw killer. But that was enough.
“Banker Lemmings”, Washington Mutual: Another “eh” ad until the end, where the wives, trophy or otherwise, show up. Yes, I do hold a credit card from Washington Mutual, so praise is mandatory.
“Crab Worship”, Budweiser: You don’t know how much of a craving I now have for some crab legs and a beer.
And now the losers…
“Beard Combover” and “Karate Class”, Sierra Mist: Bad ideas, bad execution. One must never mix any type of food item in a commercial with a karate class, in particular; you tend to bring up comparisons with Python that you will never, ever win. Cringe-worthy, both of them.
“Medley”, Chevrolet: So, you’re so desperate for songs praising Chevy that you get Big and Rich in there to quote their most famous song, which insults Chevy, and you can’t get them to say the whole line that has the insult because it mentions a product from Cadillac. The entire ad got shot to hell from that moment.
“Marketing Department”, GoDaddy: Too little Candice. This is a wrestling column, remember. I have to say that.
“Spot Envy”, Budweiser: I’m not a dog person.
“Checkout”, Doritos: The other Dorito fan ad. Oh, if they’d only had the money to hire Dawn French. She would have been the only person to pull that off.
“Male Stripper Car Wash”, Chevrolet: No. Just, no.
“Great Moments In Black History”, Coca-Cola: Simple whoring, nothing more. An insult to all black people everywhere.
“Connectile Dysfunction”, Sprint: I’m sorry, but I’m getting to be that age where those medications are quickly becoming an option, so this is hitting a little close to home.
“Ape Plot”, Bud Light: For some reason, I liked the Taco Bell Lions, but not the Bud Gorillas. Call me a speciest if you must, but I think that lionsare more effective spokespeoeple.
The “Office Jungle” Series, CareerBuilder: How about asking people who got their jobs through CareerBuilder what they feel? I’ve got some choice words in that regard. Yet, for some reason, I still use them…
Oh, I’m no mood for commentary. Let’s see if I can shift into wrestling mode after the pimps…
THE PIMP SECTION
Visit Pulse Wrestling
Visit Tailgate Crashers
Visit The DVD Lounge
Visit Machine Gun Funk
Visit Popcorn Junkies
Visit Moodspins
Yes, there’s a reason for this. No, I’m not telling you why.
Definitely hit Burnside‘s column this week. You’ll not only get information you’ll get nowhere else, you’ll also see me calling MickieLexis LaJames a clap-ridden whore.
Uh, Bambi, isn’t it a little strange for someone whose column tag line deals with change to not want Ric Flair to move on?
Vinny wants a little realism for a change. Vin, I’ve been saying that for seven years now, and we’re no closer today than we were then.
Biscuiti tells us that Vince is playing us wrestling fans for fools. Like we didn’t know that already.
Gloomie analyzes the difference between selling out and marketing. And here I thought the purpose of marketing was to make sure you sold out.
Fernandez and I are talking about a feature series for MGF by yours truly. That’s why he’s happy. I still have two DVDs in my review pile and a PPV this weekend, so it may be slightly delayed until I can find some time.
Paul expected a conversation of substance from Evanescence?
Reed Hearts Namco. As do all old-school game fans.
Morrison goes metatextual on Red Sonja. Hey, all I cared about was the metal bikini.
Uh, Lauren, teens have always been stereotyped in that way. There are ancient Greek writings that decry the “corruption of today’s youth”. What you went through was nothing special. Get over it. Oh, wait, you will, in about five to ten years or so. The total conversion from “OPPRESSION ZOMG!!!111!1Q!!” to “Get off my lawn” happened to me at 27, the first time I heard “Smells Like Teen Spirit”.
Desmarais doesn’t come to the right conclusion: any Rampage made today will suck because some asshole will start drumming on the violence issue, something that even Midway is sensitive to these days.
Been there, Cox. In all respects, including the nepotism part.
OKAY, CAN WRESTLING BE ANY MORE DEPRESSING THAN THE SUPER BOWL?
Well, yes, because That Phil Collins Song is this weekend…hold it, do we care about TNA anymore? I’m not sure what the IWC Groupmind’s latest orders are. Other than that, it’s all Wrestlemania plans. However, all of the firm news in that area happened on Raw, which, of course, is covered in a separate section in this column. Hell, I might as well go there now…
THE SHORT FORM
Match Results:
Charlie Haas, Shelton Benjamin, and Chris Masters over Shad Gaspard, JTG, and Carly Colon (Pinfall, Haas pins Colon, Benjamin springboard neckbreaker): Ah, their annual Tribute To Black History Month Match, with half the guys in the ring of that particular persuasion (2/3rds if you count Haas). Some ugly misfits in here, but they did an adequate job of covering up that fact. There’s a lot of room in a six-man to do that type of stuff. Of course, that comes from lucha, but considering that the trios match is the greatest technological development in Mexico since the Mayan calendar, it isn’t saying much.
JTG decided to teach country boy Benjy how to do it “hood style”
Jamalga over Balls Mahoney (Pinfall, Samoan Spike): So what was the purpose of this? Why couldn’t this have filled one of the dead spots on Tuesday night? Oh, I know. This was justification for them not cutting Balls during the recent let-gos. Too bad for that. I may be out of gay jokes for now, but I’ve got lots of great castration jokes filed away.
How nice of Jamalga to help Balls’ stiff back
Super Crazy over Johnny Nitro (Pinfall, moonsault): Hmmm, a quality match between two guys who are getting deserved pushes at a level where they can get the proper recognition, both accompanied to the ring by a pair of tits, nice moves, good flow…hold it, there’s nothing negative about this match. What the hell can I talk about? Damn you.
Who knew that substituting an old “What The Butler Saw” nickelodeon machine for the turnbuckle would work?
MickieLexis LaJames over Melina Perez, Women’s Title Match (Pinfall, rollup): So, they’re not serious about a women’s title match at WM. Oh, they’ll have one, but it’ll be a multiple-participant affair. If they’re serious, they should repeat last year’s Royal Rumble experiment with the cruiserweight title and invite any woman on the roster to participate. If anything, it would allow Jillian Hall to escape from being this year’s designated victim of the Playboy Cover-Related Feud that’s currently brewing with Massaro. She doesn’t deserve that, not after what she’s been through.
“Look, if you told me you’d never done anal before, I’d have used the smaller strap-on!”
Jeffykins over Ric Flair, Number One Contender’s Match (Pinfall, rollup): No, not even Flair could get me to care about Jeffykins. Reversing the Figure Four into a rollup so that Jeffykins could have a match at Wrestlemania puts me into a mood to declare crusade against the heresy in Stamford. Oh, well, it keeps the shithead out of Money In The Bank, at least.
“Okay, but no tongue!”
Bobby Lashley over My Illegitimate Son Ken Doane, ECW Championship Match (Pinfall, powerslam): Uh, son, you’re not only wearing the pink and black again, but your girlfriend is hanging around with Mexicans and you’re challenging for the ECW title. I think we need to have a serious heart-to-heart about where your life is going. And this time, you’re going to listen to your old man.
No, I don’t think this is going to work
Shawn Michaels over Edge and Randy Orton, Number One Contender’s Triple Threat Match (Pinfall, Michaels pins Orton, proximate cause was throwing Edge into Orton for a spear): Okay, I’m going to say it, and I don’t give a shit: IF THIS IS WHAT THEY FUCKING HAD PLANNED ALL ALONG, AND THEY KNEW THAT THEY’D DO DAVE/UT ON THE SMACKDOWN SIDE, THEN WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T MICHAELS WIN THE RUMBLE SO THAT WE COULD HAVE AVOIDED HAVING THIS MATCH?
It’s not the destination. It’s the trip. And yet again they’ve tripped over themselves. Jesus Fucking Christ, can no one book in Stamford? A couple of years ago, we insisted that the best thing WWE could do would be to hire me, Keith, and Hevia, then give us total booking control. We’d have every brand straightened out in a month and a half. They could still do the same today. The only difference is that it’d take us two months to do it thanks to ECW. It wouldn’t take much. Just get Hevia some pussy, pay Keith in Canadian dollars, and give me enough money for the medication I’d need to deal with the place.
What a bunch of f*cking twats.
No, Randy, you’re confused again. It’s Michaels’ back that’s the problem. Benoit’s the guy with the bad neck.
Angle Developments:
Decisions, Decisions: Well, after weeks of what was either prevarication or feeding false information to Da Meltz to try to confuse everyone, they’ve pulled the trigger on UT/DAVE, which was their initial plan months ago that they’d apparently stuck to until the Rumble match. Wow, what an anti-climax, huh? You can see where the thought pattern is running: we don’t give a shit about ECW, we’ve got too many main-eventers on Raw who are worthy of a main-event slot at WM (oh, and Orton too), so let’s just stick with the current shows, because DAVE will lay down for UT and keep the streak alive and the SD belt can be transitioned to a heel champion in order to inject a little interest into the main event scene. Now if someone can tell me who that heel who can defeat UT in a reasonable fashion is, I’d appreciate it. Oh, hell, more on that in the Smackdown Short Form.
There’s a time-honored solution to this dilemma: musical chairs
I still don’t know what I’m going to do about next week. I hate covering clip shows (and only tolerate it at the end of the year because there isn’t anything else going on). I don’t mind taking the Dog Show week off, but we’ve got a PPV this weekend, and I have to cover that. I guess that you’ll find out when I do. In the meantime, stay tuned for me all over the site. It’s going to be interesting.
