HollywoodSpikeJenkins

Dude...what the fuck is going on?

Mickie James is the best heel on Raw.

Beef and Potato Burrito from Taco Bell.

Where is the other WoW thread where I flip out on how WoW was a big staple in the fact that my girlfriend cheated on me? Update: She came crawling back.

When I buy Diablo 2, we should play Sarah.

I like how Burchill's undefeated streak and the debut of his new valet ends with a powerslam from Road Warrior Animal. Seriously, what the fuck?

The same exact thing happened to me during my training. Did I cry? No. It was an initiation by the other wrestlers to the students. Everyone got chopped. It leaves marks, but they are something to be proud of because you've been accepted by the people you work with.

Then no-show.

Umm, what did Shannon do? Contract disputes.

She took two shots. What stopped it? The blanket? And if she isn't dead, then she can tell them Michael did it. And is the only main character to actually die due to the writing and not from a falling out with the show Boone?

Sawyer fucked a dead chick. Eww.

Him standing there with his arm in a sling didn't give that away?

Drinking and driving is bad, mmmkay.

Saywer...you fucker you.

May 19th T-Shirt. Awesome.

That has to be the greatest thing ever. "The Spirit Squad have asked me to ask you....how does it feel to lose?"

Come on...the Spirit Squad are amazing.

If that was my fault, I was on drugs at the time. If not, then I don't know.

So everyone go fucking read it.

I got pretty damn fucked up. Go me.

There will be a Spike/Zyon match up today or tomorrow. Calm down, calm down.

Christian vs. Shelly and more X-World Cup? Nice.

Sell drugs.

Promo: “The Funeral Of God” ------------------------------------------------------ As the sun begins to set over the Alltel Stadium, the SWF workforce is preparing for the big night. Battleground 2006. Crewmembers running around preparing the stage hours before fans will begin to file into the arena. Everyone runs around the arena, rushing to get his or her job done. Every single person has about a million things flying through their heads. Everybody except for one person. This one person only has one thing on his mind. This person is “Hollywood” Spike Jenkins. And the only thing on his mind is how he will kill Zyon tonight. Spike Jenkins sits alone inside of a locker room. Wearing a black hoodie and his camouflage shorts, he reaches into his gym bag and pulls out some white tape. Pulling the tape apart, he begins to wrap it around his wrist. It all started almost a year ago…a little bit before Genesis. We were just a thrown together team. The weird thing was, we stuck. The crowd got behind us. Of course, the big shots upstairs saw money. They kept us together. Team SpYon. We became big. Finishing wrapping his wrist, Spike tosses the tape to the side. Pushing his knuckles together, Spike cracks his knuckles. He reaches into his gym bag again and pulls out a pair of kneepads. Around that time, I was alone. Nobody wanted anything to do with me because of what I did while I was in Revolution Zero. Under the guidance of Toxxic, Spike Jenkins was focused and ready to do damage. But he never thought of the consequences. He never thought that Toxxic and Sean Davis would turn on him for Scott Pretzler. He never thought that he would have to defend for himself against the entire locker room. But when it all came true, being attacked by his “friends” and having to defend himself against the entire locker room, there was only one person by his side. He only had one friend…Zyon. Pulling the kneepads up underneath his shorts, Spike stands up and walks over to a table in the center of the room. He picks up a black magic marker and pops the cap off it. We came close to winning the tag team titles. But we still stuck together. Up until the Clusterfuck. I was on a losing streak, but I still had a chance. I knew I could win the Clusterfuck. I knew that if I entered myself at number one, I would sky rocket back to the top. But he became jealous. He won the Cruiserweight title…but he needed more. He wouldn’t allow me to shine. He hit me from out of nowhere and knocked me over the top rope…he ended my dream of winning the Clusterfuck. Taking the black magic marker in his hand, he brings it to his hands. Over the white tape he previously wrapped around his wrists, Spike carefully draws an X over them, representing his Straight Edge lifestyle. After placing the X on both of his hands, he drops the marker on the floor and turns towards a mirror placed up against the door to the locker room. Staring into the reflection of his pale blue eyes, Spike reaches to the back of his head with one hand, grabbing a big chunk of his highlighted blonde hair. “You stupid fuck,” Spike shouts at himself in the mirror, “You finally fucking lost it, huh? You do realize after what you did, you can’t go back. After what happened last time, you turned your back on the one person who was there for you. YOU FUCKING RUINED HIS LIFE! YOU TRIED TO KILL HIM! You’re a God damn lunatic! Do you know that? You know you aren’t going to win this war. You know he is going to get the better of you again. YOU KNOW THIS? He is going to finish you off tonight. You are FUCKED!” Using his other free hand, Spike pulls a pair of small scissors out of his pocket. He brings them up to the back of his head and begins to snip away at his long hair. At Ramadomination, we had a “friendly” match where he beat me. He always beat me. But yet, he refused to give me a title match. He refused to win the tag team titles. He couldn’t stand the thought of me being in the spotlight. My protégé became obsessed with being the greatest. And finally…he had enough. Zyon was going to make a huge announcement…most likely having something to do with Spike… “HE WAS GOING TO ASK YOU TO BE HIS BEST MAN! YOU FUCKING PSYCHO!” No…that’s a lie. To make himself the victim. To make it seem like he was the one that was hurt… “You took a pipe to his head!” It is a war. This is a war. This will not be a wrestling match. This will be a fight to the death. One of us will not be walking out of here tonight. It will be a war. “A war you will lose,” Spike states coldly to his reflection, “A war you will lose.” A war I will fight…A war I will die in… Spike places the clippers back into his pocket. His hair now unorganized and messy, pieces on his shoulders, falling to the floor. He stares into the mirror, his pale blue eyes covered by dark eyeliner. He pushes his hair back, collecting some chunks of hair still stuck in the mess. He stares at himself and prepares for tonight… “I have some videos I need to return…”

A kajillion words.