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Submitted by Dubzilla on Saturday, July 17, 2004 at 2:58 AM EST
Pardon Me While I Try To Collect My Thoughts Into A Bar Rag Well, well, well, it's that time again where I break forth the rhythm and rhyme. Remember Rhythm & Blues, that horrible black dye job on Greg Valentine's hair that made him look like Roseanne. Made you wish he sticked to bleached blond. Personally, I'd have taken 50 consecutive Nasty Boy Pit Stops into the collective armpits of Knobbs and Saggs to eradicate that memory from my brain. Now that I've scarred you for life, let me welcome you to the column that makes you scratch yourself in places you've never thought of doing so before, The Turnbuckle Tailgate. I'm your concierge for your visit, Dubzilla and I'll bring you more joy, fun and seasons in the sun than Terry Jacks ever could. Plus you'll get free drinks, who turns down free stuff? Communists, The French, Charlotte Rae? Public service announcement to all the ladies, gumlines aren't sexy. If I can see them when you smile, I'm gonna smear them with chunky peanut butter because that's just totally nuts. July 3rd was a long time ago, but it was great, I drank margaritas the whole day. I went through a 750 ml bottle of Sauza Tequila, had a couple of Newcastles and some Jager shots. I had a blast and a pretty smooth hangover the next day. The economy in the United States still sucks and we are a week away from the Democratic National Convention in Boston. What does that mean? Mass chaos and insanity in my neck of the woods. Highways and byways locked down to a screeching halt causing commuters to jam alternate routes. Funny how a perennially Democratic state which will host the coming out of party for its political son will piss off so many of its taxpaying homers. May this be the election that Mass goes Republican and effects the outcome of the election. Let's go over the parametrics of this ratty manifesto I bring to you soaking wet with grape juice stains. Double whammy, Bingo, Yahtzee, Macguyver with the 8 iron in the kitchen with Dinah fee fie foe yo yo yo where the rum at? We start with the Black & Tan where I compare and contrast two things and try to pick one over the other (never easy). Then we go into The Pub Crawl where I discuss various topics in pro wrestling that pique my interest. After that if I'm feeling frisky, I make some random observations straight from a bar napkin. The coup de grace is Monty Hall, the free form portion of the column where I get to freestyle my thought process and do my thing. For those of you that are still confused, maybe it was meant to be that way. I've noticed a trend lately on the brands of World Wrestling Entertainment. Yeah, that's what they want us think, two completely different entities. A lot of people still call it the WWF, but broads who eat rice cakes, adore pandas and donate their rainy day money to the World Wildlife Fund take liberty with that. I've noticed that there are two central figures on each brand. They make the crowd wild every time they appear and entertain. Whooda thunk dat a retard 'n' a rapper be the center of attention in a wrestling ring in 2004? I'm sure George Hackenschmidt is rolling around in his grave muttering profanities as the vultures and parasites eschew away at his carcass. Gory symbolism, I need a Black and Tan, barkeep, get pouring. Black - Eugene Eric Bischoff's nephew has got the world by the balls. It's the best of times, it's the worst of times, it's the stuff you'd read about in a trashy novel from yesteryear. But you can't make this shit up, can you? A special guy is a pawn in the proverbial pecking order plotted out by Evolution. HHH is the mastermind of this evil scheme against naive Eugene. It's bound to backfire or Eugene will come to his senses or you'll get your pizza for free because 30 minutes have transpired and still no knock at the door. There's something about Eugene, he's a lovable imp with an overactive set of tastebuds and fingers that make the Spidey Sense look the Magic Touch. A little part of you wants to chant "Eugene Sucks" just to knock some sense into the kid, but you don't want to hurt the little slugger. Tan - John Cena A SmackDown can't go down with the prolific yet poetic wordsmithereens dropped by one John Cena. JBL may be the World Champion, but who dominates the opening clip montage on UPN at 8:00 sharp on Thursday evenings? It be the man with the Ph.D in Thuganomics who carries bags of peanuts in the pockets of his oversized jean shorts. He may not have the U.S. Championship at this moment, but he's got the crowd hanging on every one of his corny rhymes. He's a marked man, Booker T seems to have his number, but he ain't afraid of no 5 Time WCW Champion or no ghost that can't be destroyed by a photon blaster or a plasma ray. The United Nations of SmackDown are calling, but Cena shall prank all their asses and punk each and every one of them out. Bartender's Choice - Eugene or John Cena? I personally like them both, I loved the whole bounce room that Eugene had for an office. I can't get enough of the vague throwbacks that Cena wears in every city and town he frequents. He's got to have a collection that the Smithsonian is jealous of. That jacket that Eugene wears screams Tuesday Nite Bowling League Banquet. Candlepin rules, it's a New England fixture, Tenpin is alright, but the balls are heavy and you only get two tries a frame instead of three. It's all about the small balls and thin pins. 94 percent of you reading this has no idea what I'm talking about, but John Cena sure does. He's got the five knuckle shuffle and he's bringing the heat so I'll take him over Eugene by the slimmest of margins. The tiebreaker was paper, rock and scissors and Eugene told me to pull his finger. There was no need for that, that's why I choose Cena. The Pub Crawl Chock Full Of Frosty Pints, Mixed Cocktails & Sensational Shots Pete's Wicked Sampler - Drink Poll Results For the past couple of editions of T-Squared, I've posed a question to the handful of people that read this mediocre column. I asked ya what you like to drink while you watch wrestling. The results were interesting and varied, but I came to a couple of conclusions. The non-alcoholics seem to outnumber the alcoholics. Either y'all are straight edge, born again sober people, social drinkers or really into the physical fitness. Soda was popular, people also like shakes and juices. Beer was a popular potable with vodka being the liquor of choice. There was no real runaway drink. If you could call this market research for television advertising for wrestling shows, stay away from drinks, people are thirsty so drinks sell themselves. Stick to fast food, anti-tobacco campaigns, video games and movie trailers. I probably left something out, I don't care, I really don't. Blithering Idiot - What Were They Thinking, Drinking or Smoking? In the span of 29 days, the WWE put out 3 PPVs. If you aren't a cable pirate with the eye patch and the hook for a hand, you paid approximately 105 dollars if you ordered all three pay per views. There were over 20 matches on these shows, you were lucky if you could count the number of matches that were worthy of being paid for on one hand. Bad Blood was probably the best of the three shows, but it is probably the third worst WWE PPV of the year so far. The GAB and Vengeance trumped Bad Blood on the awful scale. These shows are getting progressively worse. I realize it is tough to put together quality matches and compelling feuds with the frequency of shows that the WWE puts on, but at some point, you gotta step back and realize that you're gonna turn into a overly medicated burnout with the trippy trails and technicolor terricloth bathrobe courtesy of various unidentifiable stains. I try to look for the positive in most things wrestling, I wouldn't say that I am too cynical as some people on the Internet, but this has been the summer of shit in the WWE. You might as well have a falls count in the restroom match because that's where you've gone. You gone into the crapper and all I see is plumbers' crack and I'm not liking it one bit. Here's hoping they get their head out of their ass by the time SummerSlam rolls into Toronto. Whiskey Wry Observations From A Drunkard Dash Prophet So wrestlers cannot tolerate the opinions of the IWC. I compare writing a wrestling column on the Internet to tabloids like Star and National Enquirer. The facts are out there, but often times they are distorted. With distortion escapes credibility There are a lot of good writers out there, but there's always some bad apples in the bunch. Just like there are in every grouping you could think up. I like to think of The Turnbuckle Tailgate as The Weekly World News of the IWC. Billy Kidman and Paul London are tag team champions, The Dudley family is dysfunctional as ever, Booker T thinks he can speak fluent Japanese and Kurt Angle's injuries were all just a hoax, Welcome Back SmackDown. Your dreams are your ticket out and I'll gladly take a front row seat in front of my television. I caught Impact on Fox Sports Net today and that was one quick hour. Glad to see one of my all time favorite wrestlers Sabu. Got to see two great indy blue chip prospects in Alex Shelley and Roderick Strong. Goldylocks is getting better at playing the Gaboresque tramp. I think it's funny that if the match goes the distance of 10 minutes, a judge declares a winner. Dusty Rhodes was flustered, he couldn't get the porkchop out of his grasp long enough to render a decision with a clear head, but he was able to pick AMW over the team of Kazarian and Shane. The Lita Pregnancy Angle, no comment other than who gives a rat's ass. MONTY HALL(Marking Out (because you're) Never Too Young (to) Harvest A Lifetime (of) Lunacy). Kayfabe Epiphany Vengeance was this past Sunday, but I didn't get to watch it until I ordered it on a replay during the middle of the week. I went to the SmackDown brand house show at the South Shore Music Circus in Cohasset, Massachusetts. Let's start off with the things that pissed me off during this experience. The venue was a tent with a small stage on the round. The ring was the literally 10 feet by 10 feet. It made Rey Misterio look like Big John Studd. What else, alcohol on the premise. Overpriced as you would guess, fuck they served wine by the glass. Damn suburbs and their noses in the air. They only served liquor before the show and during the intermission and you couldn't bring it in the tent. Luckily I always tailgate and I got smashed in the parking lot. Then there was the parking situation, not spaces, just everyone lining up in rows. After the show, you had to wait for the people in front of you or behind you to get out of the freaking lot. And finally, little kids. I love kids, I think they can be cute if I know them. If they are strangers, they are snot nosed. And their parents aren't doing that good of a job raising them, instead they pollute their minds with hypnotism through a soundtrack courtesy of Herb Alpert. Well, I enjoyed the show even though I paid up the ass for me and my friend to see it. It was a birthday present for him so I bought his ticket as well. We met the referees and Tim White before the show. I even took a picture of my buddy with Charles Robinson. I got a pic of Little Naitch on my camera phone, that's awesome. I tried to take more pictures as the wrestlers came out to the ring, but the lighting sucked and the wrestlers moved quickly. I found that there's a reason the roster is so large, so they can fill up the cards at these house shows. Some wrestlers are better in front of a live crowd then on TV. I would lump Bob Holly, Billy Gunn, Jamie Noble, The Dudleys, Rene Dupree, JBL and Scotty 2 Hotty into that category. John Cena, Booker T and Rey Misterio are amongst those that I saw that are better off on TV. Mark Jindrak and Charlie Haas fall into the none of the above category. The Divas are hotter than they appear on TV. After the show, we went up to the fence surrounding the venue by one of the restroom and saw where the wrestlers were parked. We saw some wrestlers smoking cigarettes. The guy that got me the tickets, a guy I used to work with started to chat it up with Charlie Haas. He got his autograph and tried to get him to go to the shadiest bar in my area, Ups & Downs. This is really funny if you knew the guy I worked with, he's about as eloquent as Stuttering John Melendez. A similar thing happened with Rey Misterio who was chatting on his cell phone. I got to see a lot of people holler at the wrestlers as they were leaving. This is commonplace, every time wrestling fans get near wrestlers, they go apeshit. I try to be respectful and not be like a school girl in heat. I like to go balls to wall when I'm watching wrestling, but I show restraint when it comes to breaking my suspension of reality and seeing wrestlers outside of their element. I have come to the realization that some people are fans and other people are fanatics. Wrestlers are real people that just want some privacy yet they are celebrities just like anyone else in the world of pop culture. They know what they signed up for and you get all different types of people. Some are really nice, some are really rude. If a wrestler is a prick, I'm not gonna hold it against them. I'd probably be a little cranky if people called out my name all the time. I don't really know if I have a point to make in regards to this, I'm just stating my thoughts in the stream of conscious matter I usually do, whatever, I'm like a charbroiled ribeye steak, I'm done, bitch. Drown In Denouement Another tailgate a la turnbuckle in the books. I probably made somebody chuckle and I probably ruffled a feather or two, that's my goal every time I write, mission accomplished, I can go and tar and feather some mail carriers. I told you, don't send me my bills. I enjoy being deliquent and being harassed by collection agencies. I ignore my home phone, it's all about the cellular line and the rollover baby. Lady rollover, you really know how to push my buttons. It's time to dance 'til I can't dance no more. Until then, ahhhh, Bermulloch...................... Send Feedback Here I enjoy hearing from you, regardless LOP Forums Join the party, make some noise, have dumb and intelligent discussions abound with a bunch of people you'll probably never meet in your lifetime. MUST SEE! Brand New Hot Pix of TRISH STRATUS!
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