JJ Johnson

Jerome Bettis is the luckiest man on the planet.

SACK!

Oh great, they highlighted Peyton's playoff ineptitude. Kiss of death for Pittsburgh.

Dear Bill Cowher, When the opposing team has their offense, defense, special teams, and about 20 fans in the box, don't run the football. Love, JJ

That just exemplifies why you don't count the Colts out until the gun goes off. It was funny watching Joey Porter come about 4 feet short of swatting that TPC, though.

I do! Pick me!

Chicago-Carolina is an interesting game. The two defenses are very similar, but Carolina's defense is more of a playmaker compared to Chicago's "We'll make plays once we shut you down" style that became apparent (8 sacks on Delhomme) last time they played. Which isn't to say that Chicago's D doesn't make a fair amount of plays with guys like Nathan Vasher and Mike Brown in the secondary. Both teams have ridiculously nasty front fours, but Chicago's linebacking corps is a bit more adept than the Panthers. Advantage: Chicago. On the offensive side of the ball, it's not quite as evenly matched. Delhomme's usually good about spreading his passes around to guys like Proehl and Mangum to keep the heat off of Smith, but to counterpoint therealworldschampion, Jake's not going to be wrecking anybody by himself. DeShaun Foster is explosive out of the backfield and could possibly break loose for a big gain if he can get into the secondary. Although granted, if he's in the secondary, he's already made a big gain. You know what I mean. I can't comment on the Panthers' O-line (or, for that matter, the Bears' O-line), but giving up 8 sacks in a game is ridiculous, even if it is Chicago. The Bears offense, on the other hand, is miserable. Grossman sucks, Orton sucks harder, and Thomas Jones stands about a Tiki's chance in a No-Fumbling Zone of getting through Carolina's line. Advantage: Carolina. Overall: Chicago. Offense sells tickets (unless you're the Cardinals), defense wins championships (unless you're the Buccaneers). Feels odd having written that, but hey, it was fun trying to look knowledgeable. Picks for the weekend are Denver, Pittsburgh, Chicago and Seattle.

Dr. Pepper lays claim to the most mind-numbing commercials this side of PSP, and the lamest line (via Mr. Pibb, which like Akira said, is the exact same thing) in an otherwise hilarious SNL skit. It's also neither a Coca-Cola nor a Pepsi product, which means that it's independent. And much like most independent things (bands, NCAA conferences, 85%-90% of the wrestling, Venezuela) it sucks.

Laberinto. Not Labertino. JJ Johnson; when he's not writing, he's sticking up for the misspelled guy.

I knew I should've begun my 'PPV at Skydome' push earlier.

I love what Philly did with the basement, by the way.

Quick learner.

Me! *ducks*

Maximum.

*raises hand*

Only 11,000? Aww. But in all seriousness, thanks.

Any chance you could bump the word limit for my match up some? 6000 preferably, but 5500's fine.

Use a small kart, like Yoshi's Egg 1.

Tom Flesher/Durandal - 553 days Wildchild - 528 days - Highest active Johnny Dangerous - 504 days El Luchadore Magnifico - 499 days and counting Ejiro Fasaki - 396 days Landon "La Cucaracha" Maddix - 359 days Toxxic - 344 days Andrew Blackwell/Sacred - 305 days Thoth/Orochi - 287 days Judge Mental/William Hearford - 284 days Edwin MacPhisto - 280 days Jay Hawke - 260 days and counting Todd Cortez - 253 days HVille Thugg - 247 days Frost - 244 days Fallout - 242 days Charlie "Grappler" Matthews/Show - 209 days Terrence "Janus" Bailey - 205 days Mike Van Siclen - 202 days Jamie "Jay Dawg" Drazon - 195 days "Grand Slam" Mark Stevens - 184 days Rane - 183 days Chris Wilson - 161 days Sean Davis - 155 days Perfect Bo - 153 days "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins - 152 days Ash Ketchum/ Michael Craven - 148 days JJ Johnson - 143 days and counting "Deathwish" Danny Williams - 141 days Axis - 133 days Outcast - 126 days Xstasy - 123 days Mak Francis - 120 days The Boston Strangler - 119 days Chris Raynor - 119 days Insane Luchador - 119 days Neilsen of the Jungle - 114 days Annie Eclectic/Beezel - 112 days Bruce Blank - 110 days and counting Stryke - 108 days Angelous - 104 days Molock - 104 days Grimedogg - 100 days "The Critic" Scott Pretzler - 98 days Christian Fury - 93 days David Cross - 92 days Divefire - 91 days Dace Night - 85 days Va'aiga - 84 days "TNT" Taylor Nicholas Thompson - 83 days Spider Nekura - 79 days Bobby Riley - 72 days Andrea Montgomery - 71 days Quiz - 69 days Cyclone Comet - 65 days Mistress Sarah - 64 days Stubby P. McWeed - 63 days Erek Taylor - 59 days Mercury - 56 days Alan Clark - 54 days Pimp Daddy Sarp - 53 days Johnny Rotten - 51 days Spike - 50 days "Coyote" Coy West - 50 days Aecas - 49 days Danny Vigilante - 49 days Tod deKindes - 49 days Zyon - 49 days TORU Takahara - 43 days and counting KOJI Kitano - 43 days and counting Ced Ordonez - 43 days "The Icon" Max King - 40 days Mayor McCheese - 38 days Austin Sly - 38 days Jamie Bjork - 35 days Chris Storm - 33 days Spark - 33 days Marcus Ward - 32 days Manson - 31 days NTD - 30 days Ryan Dustin - 30 days Suicide King - 28 days Linchpin - 28 days "Insane" Joe Flyer - 28 days The Masked Man - 28 days Longdogger Pete - 28 days "Notorious" John Duran - 24 days Curry Man - 22 days Grunge - 19 days G.O.A.T. - 17 days Ace Lezaire - 16 days Arch Griffon - 15 days CIA - 15 days Martin "Big Country" Hunt - 15 days Mr. Galatea - 13 days Silent/Nathaniel Kibagami - 10 days Jimmy "The Demon" Liston - 10 days "The Corona" Vladimir Everheart - 9 days Munich - 6 days K-Os - 5 days Lengths are slightly inflated if, during any of these reigns, the person had double gold, as those days counted two towards their totals. If I missed you, well, sorry about that. Let me know and I'll lump you in there.

SO MANY TYPOS. AGH. Oh well. Good card regardless, although the abundance of squash matches is a tad worrying.

Hooray, and all that sort of thing.

Homicide. On a related note, HOMICIDE. FUCK YEAH.

Shut up. Both of you. Spike, Damnation in a Box is a gimmick match. Nothing more, nothing less. Does it have a lot of history? Yes, and it has legendary status due to it being an extraordinarily gory affair in which, should the match resurface, somebody would likely have to die in order to top the original. Does this give you the power or right to stop Blank from participating in it should he so choose? No. It gives you the power to protest, but Blank obviously doesn't care what you think, so give up. Blank, Damnation in a Box is a gimmick match. Nothing more, nothing less. I said this in the Spike rant, but it applies here too. How? It's not worth the time and effort you seemingly revel in spending ticking off Spike. Why? Because it's not amounting to anything. It doesn't make you look smarter, it doesn't make you look better. It makes you look stupid, just like it makes Spike looks stupid, and quite fucking frankly, I'm sure I'm not the only one sick of it. I've tried to ignore both of your childish arguments. Honestly, I have. I would be content to let you be, and just ignore the both of you; however, it's remarkably difficult. Why? Because you take it everywhere*. So in short, Blank, next time Spike tries starting shit, ignore him. Spike, next time you think about trying to start shit, don't. Because guys, I'm not entirely sure I'll be as diplomatic the next time I go off on a tangent. Get over yourselves. Thank you very much for your cooperation. *I realize this is an exaggeration, Blank, so don't try calling me on it. Yes, you're that predictable.

Traffic is running smoothly along the Ambassador Bridge. It's not very busy at 9 PM - rush hour was three hours ago - but there are still a few cars crossing between Windsor, Ontario and Detroit, Michigan. One of the cars crossing into the States, a black Hummer H2 that assaults anyone driving close to it with the death metal blaring from within, is notable for two things; one, it's extraordinarily poor gas mileage, and two, the passengers it carries. "Can we listen to something else?" whines Landon Maddix, laying across the backseat with his fingers plugged in his ears, struggling to be heard over the abrasive groove riffs and shrieking vocals of Strapping Young Lad's "Shitstorm." Jay Hawke, in the passenger's seat, nods in agreement, the bounds of his maturity stretching like a pilates master in order to keep from complaining further. The driver, one JJ Johnson, shakes his head no, staring out over Lake Michigan - what he can see of it in the darkness - as he drums his fingers on the steering wheel, mouthing the words. This time last year, he could sing along, but his throat can't take the strain required to alter his voice so drastically. The Canadian reaches down near the gearshift and grabs a bottle of water, taking his hands off the wheel only momentarily to rip the cap off and take a swig. "When you're driving, you can listen to what you want," says Johnson, firmly. Maddix sighs. "Well, can I drive?" inquires Maddix, hoping that Johnson has grown weary of his transportation duties. "I'll fight you for it," responds Johnson. Jay smirks despite himself, and Landon sighs again before cramming his fingers back in his ears. He doesn't want the station changed THAT badly. Suddenly, the cacophony that is Devin Townsend's shrill screeching is interrupted by something that plays such a sharp contrast that Jay jumps - a MIDI version of Frank Zappa's "Dirty Love". Landon heaves another sigh, this one of relief, as Johnson reaches out and adjusts the volume to allow himself to hear, then whips out his cell phone before taking a quick glance at the caller ID. PETERS Johnson pours some more water into his mouth before flipping the phone open and bringing it up to his ear. "Speak," commands the Canadian. From the other line comes a rush of static, almost like somebody sighing into the phone - both Johnson's musical tastes and phone manners have that effect on people. "Johnson. Peters," barks the SWF's head honcho, fighting monoenumonical sentence with monoenumonical sentence, "got you booked for Lockdown." "Damn straight you do, Peters," snaps Johnson, still bitter from being left off of the Toronto card some time back, "and it better be a title defense. I'm not going to sit on this belt." Johnson glances at Hawke in the passenger's seat. "Like some people." "Well, you're in luck then," comes the Eminem-lookalike's voice from a phone tower between Detroit and Cleveland, "because it is." Johnson smiles. "Good," he says, relaxing slightly, "against whom?" "Zyon." *SCREEEEEECHH!!!* *WHAM!* "OW, SHIT!" "What was that?" asks Peters as Johnson slams on the brakes of the gas-guzzler, the seatbeltless Maddix rocketing into the seats in front of him before falling to the floor and sitting up, looking slightly disheveled. "Nothing," says Johnson, a thoughtful look in his eyes, before muttering "bastard" under his breath. With that, the Ultimate Fighter slams the phone shut, stuffing it in his pocket before reaching down and unbuckling his seatbelt as Jay gives him a funny look. "What're you doing?" questions the Dean of Professional Wrestling as Johnson opens the door before looking back at him. "Scoot over here and drive," says Johnson as Landon perks up, his eyes wide with anticipation, "I've got DVDs to study." Shrugging, Jay moves over into the driver's seat as Johnson walks around the car, people passing by on the bridge giving him funny looks as he gets in the passenger's seat, pulling his portable DVD player out of the glove compartment, along with a few labeled "ZYON SEPTEMBER," "ZYON NOVEMBER," and "ZYON DECEMBER." "Oh, and one last thing," smirks the Canadian as he flips the DVD player open. "I call radio."