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.
This is sadly the end of the my column. Due to events beyond my control I won’t be able to write the column for now. All my haters can now celebrate. Go ahead. Enjoy yourselves. Head to the local shopmart and buy a box of wine, sit back, and celebrate good times! If anyone out there actually does care about me. Well, don’t. I am an asshole. Hell, I could be King of the Assholes. Lord and Master of all I of Assholeland that I can survey. I’m like Howard Stern without the money. Man, I wish that I had the money. Maybe I should do like Virgil. Crowdfund me to being rich. Now back to reality.
Now here is where the real fun starts. . .
I went over the comments from my last column which got a lot of comments. Some poor podcast guy named BD spent like hours going over the CM Punk stuff. That’s funny. This poor guy honestly wasted his day critiqing the words of a “retard” 12 year old. That’s funny. And so much debate about little, retarded me. I even had another “grammar assassin” going over my crossed I’s and dotted T’s. Sad, but still funny. Is there now a growing conspiracy theory on me? Am I trolling the IWC? Playing on your endless debates like a harp from hell? Why so serious?
You know I love Star Wars.
First movie I ever saw in the theatre was Return of the Jedi. That’s my two loves: pro wrestling and Star Wars. And my favorite character. That would be Darth Sidious. Yes, good old Palpatine himself. He’s just a kindly, old man with a good heart. He says all the right things. You take him at his word. And then you learn he’s evil incarnate who played you, well, like a harp from hell. Yoda and Mace Windu are standing there shooting the breeze with the very asshole who’s ruining their lives. And they don’t even see, nor get it. He’s the fucking Dark Lord of the Sith, you idiots! Nope. We Jedi are way to smart for a Sith to get the better of us. Yoda should have said, “Dumbass, Am I.” As bad as the prequels are to many, I loved Palpatine. That was the one character Lucas got right. Sadly, hubris got the better of poor Sidious.
So what’s the point?
There is none. I love the fucking IWC. I love every damn last one of you smarkers. Your awesome in my book. You think your so smark and got everything figured out. I love that about you. You love fiction over truth, now don’t you? Were all tools in Vince McMahon’s toolshed according to the smarks. The IWC knows the score and can see both trees and forest. The casuals are the fools who like to eat Vince’s sorry shit. Vince loves to serve shit dinners, just ask Triple H, and casual WWE Universe Tri-lambs are front in line for the buffet. Hate on me all you want, but it’s all a mirror. Darth Sidious stands before you. But your too smark to fall for such an old trick like that. You believe in the IWC ‘s Pulp Fiction. That’s all you know. But your not just puppets on the stage to entertain like the casual masses. I’m sure your coming up with a clever comment to post below right now to stake my heel column vampire heart. You can’t destroy me with a well thought out comment. I’m way bigger than that. Oh, shit, did he just use poor syntax. Hell far, go tell it on the mountain, I gotta log in to get his sorry ass right now as I crush all his hopes and dreams for a missspelled wrord! Shitt farr!
Your gonna do it right now, ain’t you?
Or was I suppose to say aren’t you? Can’t you? Can’t you trip like I do? Such a mindfuck. My huge cerebral Philip K. Dick is in your brains, screwing them to utter jelly faster than Trips on Katie Vick . But please, do comment on it. Tell me I’m a retarded emo heel. I triple dog dare ya! Like V, I’m an idea. And their bulletproof. Reality. Fiction. Orange Hobgoblins. Hell, part-timer Fakers to Albino Lou Albanos. That was Sheamus, by the way. Was that the world’s smallest violin, or a harp? Hmm.
Living in a mystery?
I love it when you IWC smarkers hate on each other. ROHbots? Die, die, die TNA die? PGWWE? Why can’t we all just get along? Let’s be friends? Fuck that, he like’s EC3! The bastard! or he’s a WWE sheepherder! Remember the Matrix? Your just a cog in the machine. Deja Vu all day, everyday. Being fed the dead lard caked fat of some IWC chinbeard while you watch Summerslam for the fifth straight time. Figured it out yet? Nope. You think you have. But no. Look to your right. I’m not there. Try your left. Still not there. No, I’m behind you whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Give up? Already posted that genius comment yet? Given yourself a self-high five with compuer gratification with that genius comment yet?! What’s he talking about? What day is it? Is it Tuesday, ’cause I got to watch Total Divas so I can bitch on some IWC site the most of the night on how much I hate Eva Marie and then look at photo-shopped pics of her getting gangbanged before getting off a minute later? Closer yet? Your running a make believe race that will never ever come to an end. It’s called Purgatory. Who am I? I’ve always been here. Knowledge is power. Here, have a bite of my apple. Go ahead. Tastes great, less filling. Yeah, it’s now getting creepy. Getting scared yet? Or just confused? Maybe a little of both. Sorry about the apple having a worm.
Coming to a conclusion yet? Or are too busy coming up with that clever comeback of a comment? Counted all the mislead, I mean misspelled words?
Yeah, I love you. Except when I love you. Your all my children and Daddy loves his precious little family jewels. Now give Daddy a big bearhug! Can you feel the love tonight? I love it when your bad. Begging for TNA’s death. Gushing over ROH losing the lead in spot. Jumping on a poor lost WWE sheep for never giving up. Has Kevin Owen’s gained a pound today? And I’m really sad when your good. I’m never sad. Ever. Am I talking out both sides of my mouth? Maybe out of my ass? Get to the point, you say? What point? Convinced yet that the IWC doesn’t need me. You will always need me. A great and wonderful storm brought me into this world. I’m a man of a thousand names. Older than dirt, but twice as handsome. Loving the milk and honey, only wishing for more money. And you can get it all for $9.99!
Figured it out yet?
Say my name aloud and sure as hell one of imps shall appear. Be it by comment below, instant message, social forum, or your IPhone’s latest app. Download now. Don’t worry this column will soon fade from your memory, just some random IWC nut raging when I’m so much more. Pleased to me you, hope you guess my name?! It’s Jaded Seth Malice! or is it? Nothing more nor a little less. I’m the oldest friend you got. You need me. Like a bad junkie who went cold turkey for a full 30 seconds. I am your higher power. I’m a little cranky sometimes. But I have what you want. You need it, I got it. No, can’t be. It’s not true! That’s impossible! Nah. Wait, what’s he talking about? Oh shit there’s a new Vince Russo blog!
Still typing that comment?
Got all the answers yet? Sorry, I just changed the questions. I had to type that one. Lova ya Roddy! Like silly dogs that can’t stop feeding, I can’t stop typing. Here’s another spoonfull. Wait. Is spoonfull a word? Gotta head to dictionary.com right now. Your all smarter than me. Got it all figured out, right? Have you typed out that twenty page comment that destroys my soul yet? Hurry, and post it fast! Faster, dammit! Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! You gotta keep pace lest you fall far behind. I love playing the Game. Are you a Bishop, or a Rook? Oops. Bad move. Checkmate!
Remember the WWF commercial from 1999? Do you get it? Or are you worried about me using the WWF? Or is it WWWF? This is so much fun. I love you guys. Your all Ace Tanahashi’s in my book. Too bad that the fun has to end for now. . .
As always, I’ll leave you with an inspiring quote. This one is really personal:
“Let me give you a little inside information about God. God likes to watch. He’s a prankster. Think about it. He gives man instincts. He gives you this extraordinary gift, and then what does He do, I swear for His own amusement, his own private, cosmic gag reel, He sets the rules in opposition. It’s the goof of all time. Look but don’t touch. Touch, but don’t taste. Taste, don’t swallow. Ahaha. And while you’re jumpin’ from one foot to the next, what is he doing? He’s laughin’ His sick, fuckin’ ass off! He’s a tight-ass! He’s a SADIST! He’s an absentee landlord! Worship that? NEVER!”
— John Milton, Esquire
Now get to posting that soul crushing comment below, you Godless heathens! As for me, I have one last skyping session prepaid with Sunny and I bought the around the world special. Farewell my firends, until we meet again. . .
