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 Before we get into the rasslin’, I’d like to point out that all you Internet readers are a bunch of assholes. I work my ass off for you, and what do I get for it? Not one concerned fan among you wondering where the hell I’ve been these many weeks. Nobody clamoring for a post. Not a one of you checking in to see if I’m dead or what. Jackoffs, every last one of you. Sorry, I thought I was Chris Jericho for a second. In all seriousness, thanks to those who did wonder why I haven’t been shitting up this place in a while. For those wondering what’s up, life has been completely crazy. The personal life went the way of the Undertaker-Brock match at Unforgiven (read painful and a little bloody) when my fiancée decided she’d like to pursue other cock, er, interests. It took me a while to come to grips with that. Thankfully, I was able to remember one man’s mantra on positive living, which really helped. “That’s not a bad thing, that’s a good thing.” -- Diamond Dallas Page. The good thing in all of this? I can pursue new pussy. Sorry, Mrs. Hooper, I said new. As for the rest of life, shit ain’t bad right now. I got a phat promotion at work, but the extra duties are starting to cut into my lethal time. Fortunately, I’m also the new boss, so once I get shit squared away hopefully I’ll be able to devote more time to the one thing in life that matters most – wrestling. I’ve also landed a gig teaching English on the side at the local community college. This will explain why Hooper will inevitably point out any and all typos/grammar mistakes and say “And you teach English?” or something similar. But what else are friends for? Bottom line: Personal life is hell, professional life is better. Combination of the two have made me more angry and bitter than ever before, which you will see reflected in the following post. Unification of Raw titles I totally agreed with dropping the Euro title, if only because it means my boy D’Lo can officially go down as the best Euro title holder ever. 4 times, bitch! But why the hell did they get rid of the hardcore title? Yes, the belt was like Hooper’s mom – everyone got a turn, even Patterson and Brisco. But that was the fun of the belt. Some of the WWE’s funniest moments centered around the hardcore title, like when Shane won it and tried to get Edge and Christian to pin him so he wouldn’t have to face Steve Blackman in a rematch. More than that, however, was the violence that came with the belt. Remember Blackman’s TitanTron leap onto Shane? Remember the Jeff Hardy/RVD ladder match at Invasion? Hell, remember the last match between Tommy Dreamer and RVD to unify the hardcore and IC titles? This was all good shit. Shelving this belt was a mistake. If anything, keeping it on Heat would have at least made for more interesting matches than another Stasiak match. The King’s neck As I was first reading the WWE.com fluff piece on Lawler’s neck surgery, I suddenly had a vision of the Honky Tonk Man’s head exploding from a combination of too much laughter and too many one-liners. And no, I haven’t ponied up the dough for his site yet, but the day is coming. So Jerry had plastic surgery to suck the fat out of his neck. Ya, Jer, that’s why the Kat left you – it was your flabby neck. Girls just can’t get into the jiggle factor of neck fat the way we get into the jiggle factor of the breast when getting the hump on. If Jerry is so self-conscious of his neck’s appearance, maybe he should try turtlenecks. Or never leaving the house. Nicole Bass Are you fucking kidding me? She wants how many million in compensation for the fact she can’t wrestle or entertain? Her most famous line, “I want your slide trombone in my brass section,” ranks up there with “Your ass is grass and I’m going to smoke it” and “Let the Rock pour you a big glass or shut-up juice.” Frankly, I’d do Rikishi up the ass before even thinking of getting my dick within 10 feet of her vagina (if there is one). Now, I don’t doubt people may have barged into the women’s locker room while Bass was there. But sweetheart, it sure as fuck wasn’t to see you. And doesn’t this allegation really make her a hypocrite? After all, she shouldn’t have been in the women’s locker room either. Vince should have made her change in the boiler room. Or just not hired her. As for the fondling charge, that’s one I just refuse to believe. Unless of course someone had a gun to Steve Lombardi’s head. Regardless of the Brawler’s sexual tendencies (I’ve heard conflicting reports, which may mean he likes to play both teams. Who cares?), there is nobody in this world sick enough to want to do anything sexual with Nicole Bass. Even the 22-year-old virgin with bad acne, a Rev. D-Von shirt and a missing leg who works the night shift at Taco Bell would think about giving Bass 30 seconds of pleasure. Not when Crisco is so readily available, and so much more sexually appealing. Hot Lesbian Action/The wedding Both were good stuff. The original HLA was hot, even though you knew Rosie and Jamal were coming out to kick ass. However, when the Island Boys and Uncle Eric showed up on Smackdown! the next night to fuck up the wedding, well, that was just good shit. It had been a while since the WWE had pulled off a good, total swerve that takes everyone by surprise. Stephanie’s appearance on Raw the next week, not to mention Rikishi’s sudden superkick at Unforgiven, were good surprises as well. All in all, the angle gave us all we could have wanted: boobs, violence and surprise. And it was done with a bevy of characters many people either seem to dislike (Stephanie, Bischoff) or just don’t care about (Billy and Chuck). It was a good run, but it’s one I hope the writers realize has run its course and isn’t resurrected. Hurri-Kane Once upon a time, the WWE thought it would be a great idea to give a smaller guy who wore green a tag team partner much larger than himself who wore red. The formula was that the little guy would get his ass kicked, would somehow manage to make the tag, and then the big guy would clean house and either get the pin himself or set the little guy up to hit his finisher and get the W. The more things change, the more they same the same. However, I do see this as a better pairing than the belabored X-Pac/Kane team we were forced to endure for so many months. For one, Hurricane is a better wrestler, a hundred times better on the stick and doesn’t make me to wretch at his very presence. Second, the two mesh better as freaks than X-Pac and Kane did during their “I’ll teach you how to live and love” storyline. The post-match interview Monday was good but would have been better if Kane could have delivered his lines in a way that didn’t drum up visions of Cletus the Slackjawed Yokel. That’s plenty of rants for one day. Maybe you’ll luck out and hear from me again soon. Or maybe I’ll be too busy. You don’t know. Peace, Sherlock If you know anybody looking to buy a slightly used, ½ karat diamond engagement ring, be sure to let me know.  |