BUTT

Especially since the Democrats are the ones more like Nazis. Taking away our guns and such!

That tournament wasn't particularly well-booked. Its only saving grace was that it was, in fact, a big tournament and wrestling fans love those. It could have been done much better. Russo's booking acumen is exemplified by giving away the first ever Bret Hart vs Goldberg match, which actually could, if built up right, have drawn some money on PPV, free on Nitro the day after Halloween Havoc, in a first-round tournament match which also incidentally was for the U.S. title, and actually having it end in a pinfall, despite Russo knowing by that point that those two were going to main event Starrcade. And don't even get me started on that Starrcade match. Buyrates dropped steadily during Russo's tenure. His first show, Halloween Havoc, the success of which he had little if anything to do with since he only booked one week of TV leading up to it, did a not-bad-for-the-time .55 buyrate but I'd chalk that up to the two or three month long buildup for Goldberg-Sid. I'm sure it wasn't for Hogan-Sting since that match did something like a .3 the month before. (I've always believed that the matches for Halloween Havoc should have been Sting successfully defending the title against Hart and Hogan beating Luger, not Sting-Hogan and Hart/Luger, and then Sting takes the title to Starrcade and loses it to Goldberg, with Hart vs Hogan as co-main event. That's a story for another time.) I wonder how different things would have ended up if they had given the book to, say, Jimmy Hart, who did a good job with Saturday Night, no matter how small-time that would have been. Sure, he's a Hogan-ite, and more Hogan is definitely not what WCW needed at the time, but I'm sure he would have taken a much more common sense booking approach than the Russo/Ferrara regime.

What about your dad's wedding ring

Man, I just was about to say this. Because it seems whenever that comparison is made, the band usually sounds like The Black Crowes. Or Buckcherry. I don't know which is less preferable. My friends were trying to tell me that this Avenged Sevenfold song: sounds like something from the Use Your Illusion albums. No it doesn't! It sounds like Creed, just with a less Vedder-esque singer. I hate the idea of "post-rock" as a genre. Edit: Oh shit, didn't see Kinetic's comment on post-rock. The point still stands.

"bloozy"

LostWinds is really cool. Defend Your Castle, on the other hand, does nothing for me.

The original "It's All Coming Back to Me Now": I have to say, this is somewhat homoerotic. Assless pants!

Once every four days, EHME. Just wait it out.

Extreme Warfare Revenge.

Oops, looks like I spoke too soon! One of this board's five rules is not to host illegal files on the board's server. If you want to post that, you should up it somewhere else, dude.

I seriously doubt our mod staff cares one bit. Also, there's a giant thread up north on this here board devoted to posting massive amounts of copyrighted wrestling videos. If they don't care about that, they won't mind a long out-of-print piece of abandonware, will they?

I said I wasnt going to post in here anymore, but I had a phonecall from of all people my mother (Im surprised shed even bother to take the time out of her so busy day to call but alas I think shes trying to make good for Mothers day..ha) Anyway, somehow we got on the topic of politics and she, being the racist person that she is (not joking), has said that if Obama wins the nomination she'll vote for McCain and she followed that with the fact that she has NEVER voted for a Republican for anything in her 30+ years of voting. I told her she shoud start a White Racist Red Hat Wearing Women for McCain group or something now that she's discovered the wonders of blogging on the internet... You must be an Obama supporter what with you throwing your VERY OWN MOTHER UNDER THE BUS. Marvin should have bought his mother a tv. Shows the kind of man he his, wont even buy his mom a tv, she has to rely on others to donate it to her.

Oh, something else I remember: In 2nd grade, we had this program called "Religious Release", where all the Catholic students would get out for an hour every Wednesday afternoon for a session of Sunday-school-on-a-Wednesday. This is strange because it was a public school, without any religious affiliation. It was pretty nice to be able to leave school for an hour to talk about Jesus, but there is no way they would do that now, I'm sure. Athiest Dads would be bitching up a storm.

So the words to a hokey Irving Berlin song bother her, and the words to music SUNG IN CHURCH don't? Who you crappin', you dumb bitch. Probably is a stupid law, though, I'll give them that. Yet Im sure she spends money at the mall every weekend.. IN GOD WE TRUST. oh jeez

Man, I never got to watch Channel One like all of y'all. Nor did we ever do that "Cable in the Classroom" shit that Nickelodeon was always advocating. I sure would have liked to have been able to watch Mr. Wizard's World or Nick News W-5 but NOO, we got to produce our own lame-ass version of news. Actually, screw that. The news thing enabled us to take a trip to Harrisburg and Gettysburg in 5th grade. We all got to interview people in the PA state Capitol building. My best friend interviewed Tom Ridge's wife. That was a pretty big deal at the time. I got to interview some dude's secretary. I don't remember who, nor do I care. We also visited the U.N. that year. I wonder if the dudes at the Pit would be upset by that. THEY'RE INDOCTRINATING THE CHILDREN BY BY BRINGING THEM TO A BASTION OF ANTI-AMERICANISM. God, 5th grade was awesome. Except for when I lost the spelling bee. My peak years were ten and eleven, no doubt. It's all been downhill from there.

Did anyone else not have the typical A to F grading system in elementary school? Until fourth grade, I guess they thought those letters carried too much of a stigma and would hurt the kids's feelings or something, so we got...different letters! The school's K-3 grading system was: O - outstanding S+ - I can't remember exactly what this stood for but it was a step up from satisfactory S - satisfactory I - improvement needed U - unsatisfactory I never got a U! But I did get I's in art and behavior in third grade.

Fuck that. Having 6th grade in my elementary school meant I only had two years of middle school and not three, so thank god for that. Yeah. Also, Czech's just saying that because he's a whippersnapper who came around right when they inexplicably changed the traditional K-6 model into whatever it is not. Oh, bullshit. 6th grade in elementary school is so lame. By 11, I was ready to get out into a class environment where I didn't spend the majority of the day in one classroom. And what's the point of having a middle school that you only go to for two years? If you're gonna do that shit you might as well start high school in 7th grade like they did on Boy Meets World. My school produced its own early-morning closed-circuit news broadcast. We wrote the stories ourselves and read them on air. Nothing special but in the mid-90s apparently this was a very progressive idea. We had help of course, from two teachers aides at the school. We also had the assistance of a nice man who was a local radio personality and part-time Odyssey of the Mind coach at our school. In 2002 that man was arrested for downloading child porn. Shouldn't have surprised me. In fifth grade, there was a murder outside of our school. Some woman was picking up her daughter and her ex-husband shot her right in the parking lot. Then he stole the kid, drove into town and killed himself. That was plenty fucked up. In fourth grade, I made it to, or at least near, the final round of the spelling bee. My ability to spell "boisterous" wowed my classmates in attendance. Conversely, the next year I was eliminated in the first round. I always thought "cocoon" had an "a" in it! I handled this loss with a characteristic lack of maturity that manifested itself into an outburst so ridiculous that I was still occasionally reminded of it in high school, long after it should have been forgotten. God, what the fuck was wrong with me.

4th grade? I don't think they did that in my school past kindergarten. My elementary school was pretty great at punishment. During lunch they had a teacher at all times holding a fucking microphone so that they could monitor all the students and dispense punishments from afar. I did something out of line and the whole cafeteria hears "RYAN, YOU LOSE RECESS." I got sent to the Principal's office twice that year. Once for picking up pebbles at recess and dropping them on the ground ("HE WAS THROWING ROCKS") and once for mockingly saying, "fire!" during a fire drill. OMG HE COULD HAVE SCARED THE CHILDREN. I WAS 6 YEARS OLD. IT'S A FIRE DRILL. THERE'S FLASHING RED AND WHITE THINGS ON THE WALL THAT SAY "FIRE". SHOULD I HAVE KNOWN BETTER? I also got detention in third grade. Nobody in my elementary school ever got detention, but I did, for the heinous crime of talking during lights out at lunch. Did everyone else have a lights out period in elementary school lunch? During the last few minutes of lunch, they'd turn the lights out, and we'd have to all be silent and rest our heads on the table until our teachers led us out. I never thought it was unusual at the time, but in retrospect, the whole thing seems kind of weird. My constant outbursts during third grade were a pretty big problem for me. If this had happened in 2008 rather than 1994, I'm sure I would have been put on Ritalin. Which really wouldn't have been a bad thing because the more I think about it, I'm sure I had A.D.D. My parents protested vigorously. Even my dad called the principal and he never got involved with my school issues. But I'll give the school credit. They didn't bitch out. My parents should have threatened to sue. That would have done the trick. But my mom was a district employee at the time. It wouldn't have been a good idea for her, to be sure. I took the goddamn detention. I was there with another kid in my class. We sat at a table in a room full of books. We were not to touch the books. He picked up a copy of "Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs." The book's pages had eraser shavings on them. This other young man told me they were drugs. Years later, I was told that the elementary school had started giving out detentions for students who had not accumulated the required number of Accelerated Reader points for the month, which somewhat dimishes the badassness of my third grade detaining. That was the only school year where I was really a troublemaker. I was actually probably the smartest kid in the class, too, which made it all the more confusing for my poor teacher. But I was in a class with all the other bad kids. It was sink or swim. If I was going to be bad, I was going to be the worst. The funny thing was, I wasn't really the worst. There were kids who did worse things, like the two kids who carried on a private conversation during a class lecture, and then when the teacher asked one kid what the other had said to him, he replied, "I'M SUING YOU FOR NIGGER-NAPPING". Maybe it was because I had so much potential that they were upset with my behavior, whereas they saw the others as lost causes. Whatever. The point is, when you're 9, it's fun to be a bad kid.

LOL HE'S TALKING ABOUT FECES

Well Hinder IS worse than those bands...but not by much.

Oh yeah, you guys got Mega Man 2 like 5 months ago and WE DON'T HAVE IT WHAT THE FUCK

This is addressed to all the people who have answered or are thinking of answering the personal ad I placed in volume 2, number 15, two weeks ago Friday. First, my apologies to the huge bartender with the voice and the light-hearted, dark-skinned advertising man. If either of you had called back, I might not be writing this retraction of my ad, even though I will soon be too busy to date much, but why didn't you call back? But to the others, which includes the two lesbians; the under 25s and over 40s; the numerous ones who dialed my number and hung up as soon as I said hello; the 35 or 40 of you who made dates with me and never showed up, including the one that complained his penis was so large that he couldn't get it into anybody; the wife-seekers, the already married; that one that was so one-sided that he could think nothing of sex, then had the gall to ask me if his nationality was the reason why I wouldn't sleep with him; the two who couldn't raise their cocks when I was agreeable, and the many who could and did when I was not; the pleasant young foreigner who ended up being the private property of his gigantic girlfriend; the ones who were so grotesque in their appearance that I couldn't possibly consider a relationship with them, especially sexual; the jerk-off artists and the 69ers (the latter category which I specifically said I didn't want!); and the ones that wanted hand jobs, the ones who wanted to be spanked, the ones that could only boast about the size of their bank rolls and/or their penises (and this definitely includes the teacher who said, "All the girls want my cock!"); the businessman who had an adjective for every letter of his last name ("r is for rich"); the ones, and there were many, who said "my name is so and so, when can we get together and fuck?"; the fag who wanted me to support him; the diminutive actor and the other short ones; the racists, including the one at whose home I left me right sweater (and I'd rather cut off my right thumb than go back for it!); the drunks, junkies, and pillheads, the multitudes of liars, and especially the nice ones who never called back. To all of you, I say: just forget my phone number! I don't need all the hassles! I'll be started school next month and I just don't want to be bothered. Don't call my ad, any of you! Sincerely, the underweight platinum blonde.

Ah, come on, come on, let me tell you all about it. We've got all the time in the world. That's good, That's nice... I've been dreaming up a storm lately Over and over again And now I can't stop, can't stop... Been dreaming about mirrors. Millions of mirrors. An endless army af mirrors out of control, reflecting people to death. To blindness and then death. Oh and the mirrors kept getting larger. They kept growing... swelling... They kept spreading out And now I can't seem to stop them. They're still growing and I can't seem to stop them. I have to keep filling them up, I have to keep feeding them And they're still getting larger! And larger!!! The mirrors have become vast and beautiful And very, very hungry. Hungrier than I've ever been. Too hungry. I no longer have any control over what they show me or what they see. They decide themselves what they would like to reflect. They won't obey me!!! They create a reflection and then I have to go out and find the real thing that matches it. And almost always when I put the real thing in front of the mirrors It's not nearly as beautiful as the reflection that came first. And at that point I have to destroy the real thing And go out looking again until finally I find another real thing, A thing that does match what's inside the mirror and which is truly worthy of the beautiful reflection that came first. But I almost never find it. And the mirrors get even hungrier. Pretty soon now they're going to devour me. They're going to swallow me up Piece by piece, Bit by bit, shiver by shiver, tremble by tremble, Sliver and sliver and splinter by splinter... But you can help me, please. They want you, please. They've given me your image. Before I ever saw you they gave me you image. Please. I'd like to make you one of my reflections And feed you to the mirrors. Please. They only need one more to fill them up And if it were you I feel that they would be satisfied. As I would. Please. You have such a beautiful reflection... Don't ever waste it. Now.... YOUR PLACE OR MINE ?