I Hate Morons, I Love Wu-Tang

Great news! One link from a highly-read wrestling website brought, like, five times as many visitors over the span of the last few hours of Monday night than I usually get all day. I cried many tears of joy throughout the night, knowing full well that all my hard-work throughout the years trolling messageboards, frantically scribbling on my desk in High School Spanish and repeatedly playing Wu-Tang Clan's "Bring The Ruckus" while strolling into my Business Journalism finally paid off for me.



Regardless, it shows that there's at least some weird interest in this blog, so I can either gloat and eat myself to death like Marlon Brando or continue on my merry way and hopefully use this blog to fatten my wallet. Retiring early is a huge priority for me, so if you click on that little blue box on the bottom left hand corner a million times, I'll mail you my VHS copy of "The Best of Christopher Daniels in Japan". Or, better yet, my VHS copy of "SLC Punk". C'mon, you know you want to see Matthew Lillard's crowning achievement.



I'm still chargin' you for shipping and handling, damn it. I've already assured my future offspring that it will live in luxury.

Right, the Iron Sheik; the star of this blog. He wrestles Butch Reed here for probably Fritz Von Erich's World Class Championship Wrestling. It's the last 4 and a half minutes of wrestling, but it shows how really simple wrestling was back in the day. Now, every false finish has to include some ridiculous move that would have been a finisher 10 years ago.

The style back then seems to connect to the audience more than it does now. Of course, fans believed that it was real. But I think if you let fans see things in a slower pace, then it's more appreciated. That's why I'll never be a fan of these miniature Japanese men doing seventeen moves in two minutes. Or whatever these Ring of Honor dudes are doing these days.

Yeah, I know I'm just talking out of my ass here, but all I know is the wrestling I grew up with really makes today's wrestling look like crap. My old man rant is over and you can all think that I'm a dinosaur now. Just know that "Dinosaurs" was one of my favorite shows before you stare lovingly at that Harry Potter poster taped on your bedroom ceiling, jackass.

More Unsurprising Instances of Jealousy!

Damn you Hulk Hogan for everything that you did to the Iron Sheik! How dare you use steroids while lying to children with the testosto! Okay, I am kidding. Maybe it's because I am tired of having to talk about Hogan. He's in his multi-million dollar home with his wife and son while his daughter is going out and getting fake titties while attempting to become a pop sensation. Apparently, Brooke's album "Undiscovered" really did tank (Ranked #61,789 on Amazon!, supposedly only sold 60,000 copies in the US!) and her record company SoBe just dropped her ass. I'd provide pictures of her new boobed out titties, but I am pretty bored and there's superior jackoff material elsewhere.



It's apparently true that the National Enquirer did do a story on Warrior being a male prostitute in Georgia. Sheik can talk shit with the best of them is what I think. I used to think rap music was the best form of shittalking, but Eminem may have ruined putdowns forever after hearing his endless, unlistenable songs trashing Mariah Carey and other harmless pop stars.



And at least Sheik never asked for any sympathy. When that dude rapped "Have you ever been hated or discriminated against, I have", I had to roll my eyes. He doesn't make me hate white people or anything, but steering your audience to find sympathy for you when you're the one calling people faggots and shit is kinda fucked up. Eminem can have all the money in the world, but he still has less integrity than our crack-smoking, somewhat homophobic and ring-rat-short-arm-clotheslining Iranian deity.



Hogan definitely did lie on Arsenio Hall. I loved watching Arsenio when I was a kid. The set was great! Arsenio would bring on black guys as guests. The show was the first time that I recognized that Patrick Ewing was a fucking monster. Basketball is the only sport which I can definitely acknowledge as being a freakshow. C'mon, 7-foot motherfuckers running up and down a court to put a ball through a god-damn hoop. Maybe someone will call me a racist.

No, it's okay. Really.