Well, it has finally happened. After years of sheltering all of my evil progeny They have finally discoverd the WWE. At the sight of the grand entrances and herculean builds the hoodlums immediately took off their shirts and began pummeling each other with their weak noodly arms. Echoing catchphrases I haven’t heard in what seems like an eternity they hurl their pasty white bodies off the couch onto their unsuspecting siblings below. Giddy with excitement they gathered around and asked me questions about the lore of the characters. I have tried my hardest to protect them. Not from the bad influences, not from the epic violence, not from the strong sexual nature of the attitude era, but from me. I grew up with the cream of the crop teaching me how to treat a lady. I grew up with Hart foundation teaching me about family. I grew up with Hulkamania teaching me to say my prayers and take my vitamins brother. I grew up in awe of the deadman wrestling with an otherwordly force as he tight rope walked across the ring. Stone Cold taught me to never trust anyone. DX taught me to tell the establishment to suck it. Mick Foley taught me how to craft a captivating story with writing. I grew up in fear of the likes of Sid Vicious, Big Van Vader (Vader TIME), Bam Bam Bigelow how could these giants be so agile and athletic?!
My brothers put me through so many tables and hit me with so many chairs during the ECW glory days. The Sandman will always have the best entrance. Wrestling my brothers taught me a toughness that will prepared me to beat the shit out of everyone in a combatives tournament in the army not because I had ever taken any martial art but because my brothers put me in every submission hold we’d ever seen; figure 4 leglocks, sharpshooters, texas clover leafs, cobra clutches, lion tamers, boston crabs, sleeper holds, mandible claws, ankle locks, stf’s, torture racks, mexican surfboards, crippler crossfaces, rings of saturn, tazmissions 100 times over. I know more ways to bend and contort the human body to inflict pain than any man should.
Almost my entire personaility is based off of the mic work of Ric flair, Chris Jericho, The Macho Man, and the Rock. My moral compass is guided by the good vs evil battle of the late 80’s early 90’s. I carry myself with the confidence of Big Sexy, the Charisma of Razor Ramon, the arrogance of Ravishing Rick Rude, the athletic technicality of Mr. Perfect. These little heathens have no idea what they are in store for as all these memories and emotions take over my body Im having a real hard time holding these alligators down WOOOOOO!!!!
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore”