Warning: The following column is for mature readers. It contains content and views which are soley of the author, Jaded Seth Malice, and Inside Pulse and it’s affiliates, do not support, nor endorse. Please read on at your own risk.
“It has been said that anything can happen here in the World Wrestling Federation, but now more than ever, truer words have never been spoken. This is a conscious effort on our part to “Open the Creative Envelope”, so to speak, in order to entertain you in a more contemporary manner. Even though we call ourselves “sports entertainment” because of the athleticism involved, the key word in that phrase is “entertainment”. The WWF extends far beyond the strict confines of sports presentation into the wide open environment of broad-based entertainment. We borrow from such program niches like soap operas like The Days of our Lives, or music videos such as those on MTV, daytime talk-shows like Jerry Springer and others, cartoons like The King of the Hill on Fox, sitcoms like Seinfeld, and other widely accepted forms of television entertainment. We in the WWF think that you, the audience, are quite frankly tired of having your intelligence insulted. We also think that you’re tired of the same old simplistic theory of “good guys vs. bad guys”. Surely the era of “The superhero urge you to say your prayers and take your vitamins” is definitely passe (And Now Banned). Therefore, we’ve embarked upon a far more innovative and contemporary creative campaign that is far more invigorating and extemporaneous than ever before. However, due to the live nature of Raw and The War Zone, we encourage some degree of parental discretion as it relates to the younger audience allowed to stay up late. Other WWF programs on USA such as Saturday Morning LiveWire and Sunday Morning Superstars, where there is a 40% increase in the younger audience, obviously however need no such discretion. We are responsible television producers who work hard to bring you this outrageous, wacky, wonderful world known as the WWF. Through some 50 years, the World Wrestling Federation has been an entertainment mainsray in North America and all over the world. One of the reasons for that longevity is as the times have changed, so have we. I am happy to say that this new vibrant, creative direction has resulted in a huge increase in television viewership, for which we thank USA Network and TSN for allowing us to have the creative freedom, but most especially we would like to thank you for watching. Raw and the War Zone are definitely the cure for the common show.”
— Vince McMahon, circa 1997
The WWE is passe, Vince. Really, it’s true, it’s damn true. Here’s a few examples of how passe the WWE is:
A New Day – Vince honestly thought these three “brothers without soul” would get over with as babyfaces. Seriously.
– Los Matadores with El Torito – The Puerto Rican bullfighters with a mini-bull mascot. Sad, but true.
Pussy Rollins – Remember “Seth Rollins”? The Architect of the Shield and the mastermind of it’s destruction is now a cowardly lion who is Junior to Triple H. Shit man, they even took away his finisher the Curb Stomp for the Pedigree which Rollins just can’t pull off.
John Cena – John Cena sucks. Go ahead and sing it with me. John Cena sucks. This tune has been playing for so long that I believe some have just given up on it. And now he just broke his nose with a sneeze so give him number 16 quick!
Stardust – It’s the cosmic Riddler! Be my hero! This is Vince’s answer to Marvel’s cinematic success. Pure genius, Vince. Even the death of his papa can’t save poor Cody. Even Chavo was saved from Kerwin White due to Eddie’s passing.
Neville – Job. Now job again. And job over here. One more job now. The Man that Gravity Forgot can’t keep his damn shoulders off the mat. But don’t worry former Adrian you get a “high profile” match at Summerslam in which you will do most of the ring action and make some actor look good. Maybe Neville should have landed on a planet with a wrestling company that was run by someone with a brain.
Sheamus – The albino Lou Albano continues to “shine” in the spotlight as a main attraction ’cause he’s friends with Triple H. There I said it. Don’t be shocked if Sheamus cashes in to win the title so we get another Randy Orton match, but the title will be on the line this time. Yay.
BAD – Poor Sasha Banks is a diamond stuck in a pile of shit. Naomi’s choculate chip is so stale, Jimmy Uso wants to bail!
Big Show- One word: Retire. Beter yet just punch yourself in the head. Maybe amnesia will set in as you develope multiple personalities and various gimmicks. Wait. Vince likes this idea. I can feel it with the Force. . .
Kevin Owens – Walk, Owens, walk! Now quit. And your fat, dammit! You fat, pudgy bastard! You fatty fat freak! Get Jenny Craig on the line! Where in the blue hell is Richard Simmons?!
God help us all.
Michael Cole, JBL, and Byron Saxton – These three guys suck worse than a porno about blowjobs!
I could go on and on. And on. And on. I think you get the idea. And on. There’s something seriously rotten in Stamford. And I know what that rotten thing is: it’s Vince McMahon’s “creative genius” which died a pathetic, horrible death, but it’s bloated, rotten corpse is dragged out every monday night for all to witness. Just like Weekend at Berni’s only worse than the sequel.
Watching Raw sometimes feels like Raiders when they open the Ark of the Covenant. Don’t look at it, Marion! Keep your eyes shut!
In other news, Chyna has now changed her stories this week while saying sorry to the Game. Okay. And her Playboy shoot killed any chance at being WWE Champion. I call bullshit on this one. The powers that be decided in 1999 that putting the belt on Chyna was just a BAD idea. Yeah, that BAD. And if the Playboy stuff was so bad why did the WWE plug the hell out of it? The mind wonders. . .
And once again, Vince Russo blogs. . .
Vince Russo now claims that pro wrestling is dead. No, Russo, it ain’t dead despite all your attempts to kill it in WCW and TNA. Pro Wrestling has survived despite your shitty “CRASH TV” booking, on a pole crap, 400 title changes in a month, swerves, heel turns, lay downs, and actors winning the big one, and the completely out of left field, bizarre fetish for Judy Bagwell. Why do I have the feeling that Russo’s screensaver is Judy Bagwell’s head photoshopped on a picture from his recent skyping session with Sunny?
And AJ Lee is charging $15 grand per appearance for a signing. A real buyer’s market. Aj, honey, counting CM Punk as “inflation” does not count. The fans should not have to pay ’cause you chose CM Punk’s stanky dicky over your own career and future.
And speaking of Stanky Dicky. . .
It’s CM Punk again on Twitter! Let’s see he’s called wrestling fake ’cause his new lord and master Dana White told him to do it. Then he told the fans to kill themselves for daring to care for his sorry inked ass. Now a war of words with another UFC fighter. And the Punker got his feelings hurt. Is the little Chicago Made Pussy gonna cry now? Poor Philip Jack “Don’t Call Me PJ” Brooks. He ain’t getting no love from anyboy. Except maybe a handjob from a bored AJ on his birthday while she watches her favorite show.
This one is personal. . .
I use to like and respect the Voice of the Voiceless. The Voice is gone. Long gone. Remember when he said that he couldn’t change things on his couch? Remember the pipe bomb? New Japan? Defending the WWE tile in ROH? That guy did leave. He never came back. He got pod-swapped with a crybaby hypocrite that would sale his pasty ass to the devil but for the fact that Dana White already owns it. Hey Philip, has Dana ever given you the good courtesy of a reach around yet, or is he still whispering those sweet nothings in your ear?
I always end these things with an inspiring quote and this is a special message for one Philip Jack Brooks:
“I’m a guy, for all intents and purposes, never should have even made it to the WWE. I’ve had roadblock after roadblock after roadblock thrown in my way. But, not only did I get passed those roadblocks, I did it while flipping off the people who put up those roadblocks. I feel I have a responsibility to the younger wrestlers on the roster, the ones who aren’t signed yet, and the future of pro-wrestling as a whole to help make this place better, and to change this place. I certainly can’t change it by sitting on my couch in Chicago.”
— CM PUNK 1999-2011
You had a shot to do the unthinkable, PJ Brooks. Yeah, you got fired on your wedding day. Get over it. Lashing out at the your wrestling fans for the bad deeds done to you by the McMahons is just plain shitty on your part. You might want to get a mint ’cause your breath smells like cow dung. Anyway, what would CM Punk have done? He would have gone back to ROH, maybe raised some hell in TNA, showed up at Lucha Underground taping for shits and giggles , and did amazing things in New Japan. But PJ Brooks did none of that. He bitched and moaned. Cried and whined. Then ran his sell-out ass to UFC. And then did the ultimate sin of calling pro wrestling fake. Stay gone, Faker. Keep your sorry bitch-sell-out loser ass in UFC. Talk and talk and then then never fight. Blow all your damn money while your at it. Drag AJ down with ya as you kill her prime with your blank misfires and broken promises. And finally come back to the WWE as a part-timer and hog the main event of WrestleMania away from Finn Balor. And don’t forget to call yourself the Best in the World who shows up once a year, or twice a year to prove it.
#PJBrooksPartTimer
#LongLiveTheDemon!
Fini for now. . .
