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PROMO:

 

With a single light shining down upon him, a man sits, staring at the camera with a cigarette hanging off his lip. He spits out the smoke, takes a swig off a bottle of Jack Daniels and starts to talk…

 

NotJ: “Yeah…been a long f**kin’ time, hasn’t it?”

 

Neilsen takes another swig off his bottle.

 

NotJ: “Heh, don’t bother getting’ your f**kin’ panties in a bunch, I won’t be here long…little f**kin’ bitches…I just stopped by to say…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NotJ: “What the F**K!?!”

 

Neilsen bolts to his feet and send the bottle smashing off screen.

 

NotJ: “I AM Neilsen of the Mother F**kin’ Jungle! They couldn’t beat me. They couldn’t outfight me! They couldn’t out-f**kin’-think me! They only FEARED ME!!! And this is the f**kin’ respect I get! SWF Awards named after my, to quote PDS, my Personal Bitch! Grimedogg!?! I made that Hardcore f**kin’ title! I, I!!!, made Grimedogg! And what does he get? Accolades! Great f**kin’ job! You were one hell of a f**kin’ champ! What a load of f**kin’ horsesh*t! A Neilsen match was f**kin’ spectacular! And what does he get named after him? Nothing! Not even the most improved mother f**ker award, although, heh, I never really did improve, but, heh, how the f**k can you improve on all this?”

 

Neilsen smirks as he looks away from the camera.

 

 

Yeah, I can’t really finish this. Sorry for disappearing back there but if you know my job you might understand why. I’m only here for a short time before I go back, so I just wanted to stop by and see y’all. Yeah, also tried to find out if I’m in the Hall of Fame yet, but can’t find out. JD, you’re out there, get on that for me. Neilsen f**kin belongs there. Heh. Sorry about things dropping like that, but you can’t always prepare for some things. I also wanted, once again, to see if y’all are still here and hell yeah you are. It’s strange thinking this is still going strong (And don’t give me none of that, “But it’s not that strong sh*t,” because everyone’s always said that. Trust me, heh, I know.) In all honesty though, I would like a one-night-only match, but I ain’t got the time. Family and drinkin’ and sh*t. Anyway, three more things I noticed while going through past posts:

 

1. I always considered myself second generation. The first would be Rane, Diablo, Jayson G, Angel, Spike, GOAT and Hound. The second would be myself, Divefire, Bobby Riley, Fallout, Mercury and possibly, possibly, Cyclone Comet, because he entered at almost the same spot as us on the card when he was raised.

2. Only back for two Pay Per Views and one of my matches got nominated. F**k yeah, I f**kin’ rock.

3. And finally…bullsh*t. All Neilsen’s old matches are gone from IGN. All that’s left is my brief run here. Son of a bitch. And for those of you that didn’t know. Yeah, I f**kin’ rocked.

 

A few final words.

 

King – Sorry again, but duty called.

 

GSMS – Rock on.

 

HVT – You are a large, scary black man…stay away from me.

 

Crown (or is it Clown?) Prince of Flash and Panache – I don’t know what to say. You rock.

 

Sacred – F**k them Muzz…Aussies kick ass.

 

Axis – Get a personality “But he doesn’t even wrestle anymore.” I don’t care, he has the personality of Germany! (Don’t know what that means.)

 

Anyone else…I really don’t give a f**k about you…and I really don’t give a f**k about HVT either…but I thought I’d say hi.

 

Anyway, I’m off again. Maybe I’ll be back…and incredibly drunk that time.

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It's perhaps the first man to incorporate "fuckin' " into his introduction. Well, I recall it being done, so shut up you other people. That makes me want to see Neilsen (NOT Neilson with an O, damn it!) of the fucking Jungle take on Dace fucking Night, or something.

 

In honor of Neilsen, I repost the greatest thing written by Kibagami and myself, in which Neilsen is mentioned and makes an appearance. Behold Judge Mental vs. Kriss. Or Kross. Whoever.

 

“Welcome back to whatever show this is, Riley. I can’t be bothered to look at the card and notice I have a MATCH and SHOW UP FOR IT, so we’ve got this boring and slightly incoherent 1000 words coming up!”

 

”That’s right, Mark Stevens! I’m Bobby Riley, and since gay jokes bore the absolute living Christ out of the person that’s writing me, you will not hear my stale voice for the next page or so!”

 

“It’s Raining Men” begins to blast, well, not really blast, sort of a tin-sounding hum really, but for the sake of description blasts over the 50-watt PA King’s techies brought with them to Podunk, Egypt, for this show as Judge Mental and Kris (or is it Kross?) enter together for reasons that aren’t really important, but for the sake of the story, let’s say they’re gay, shall we?

 

Uh…yeah.

 

Anyway, Judge and Kross get into the ring, and Funyon begins announcing their entrance, except his mic is broken, so they cut off “It’s Raining Men” and plug another mic into the PA, and Funyon starts to announce again, but Neilsen runs into the ring with a CRAZED KILLER ATTACK MONKEY and commands the monkey to rend Funyon from limb to limb! Funyon faints like he’s fucking Scarlett O’Hara or whatever her name was or something and the monkey rips his throat out from his LEG! Damn, that monkey’s crazy.

 

Stuff happens, wherein Kris screams a lot and says the word “tubular” and Judge hits Funyon’s lifeless corpse with a gavel four times or so (four seems like a good number for something like this, don’t you think?), and then The Flocknest Monster runs into the ring and screams “READ HOT SHIT WRESTLING!” before security drags him away, but the Monster grabs hold of the PA on his way out and pulls it over and it breaks and somewhere in Iowa, a butterfly flaps its wings and then dies.

 

Judge hits his finisher on a member of the ring crew because I can’t remember what his finisher is, really, and Kross says “tubular!” again, and suddenly rocks fall, crushing Kris’ head, but nothing significant comes of that.

 

Stevens: Dear Jesus! Enough with the bunnies, Judge! They’ve suffered enough!!

 

Riley: Shut up you, those bastards deserve to be driven through twelve steel chairs!

 

Despite Hearford’s pressure, Kraig manages to wriggle free from the crucifix knee trap. Kross ducks a destructive swathe of energy from Chris Wilson’s phaser, and Silent manages to drive Wilson head-first onto some conveniently-placed jagged rocks. “Hot Shit” Tony Stetson rears back and delivers a quad-tearing punch to the Miserly Jew’s baked potato. Dramatically, as Judge whips Kris into the ropes, three sparklers near the entrance go off and out steps Gillberg!! Looking menacingly towards Stetson, Gillberg walks down the ramp.

 

Gillberg: There has been far too much oppression! And I bring, from the mouth of God, LET MY PEOPLE GO!!

 

With that, Gillberg spears Stetson through an obese Tanzanian, thus smiting “Hot Shit.” Gillberg pulls MJ to his feet and they walk off to file taxes. Kross avoids an arm drag from Judge and brings Hearford down with a crisp bite to the back of the neck. Kraig pulls Billy up and sends him towards the ropes, but Judge simply goes out of the ring as the ropes have been removed by Giant Gonzales for flossing purposes.

 

Stevens: Goodness, look at Judge go. Well it looks like the cow’s comin’ in for the night’s milkin and ol’ Uncle Glen’s turned the lamp down low.

 

Riley: What the hell? Have you been taking things from Kibagami again?

 

Stevens: You don’t approve of my colloquial sayings?

 

As Judge rises, Grimedogg comes out of the crowd and cracks a lead pipe over Judge’s head. Grimedogg gives Wilson a bonk on the head and runs off. Kraig gets to his feet after being floored by Gonzales and is thrown towards Terry Funk, who knocks him into the third row with a cookie sheet. Ali G, of Da Ali G Show walks out and is about to say, “I iz ready” or some other retarded crap, but is beaten down by Judge and Kraig and Kris and Kross and Jesus and just about everyone else because he’s a ghetto thug, and honestly that’s just retarded. Judge is about to roll Kris back into the ring, but it’s gone, as crackhead Tyrone Biggums has sold it for $12.

 

Riley: God damn crackheads! They don’t even suck...

 

Stevens: Whoa! Enough of that...

 

Tyrone runs around excitedly when he’s hit by a pick-up truck, Redneck Jesus Barry Windham riding shotgun and Clayton Bigsby driving.

 

Just as quickly, though, Giant Gonzales throws the truck hella far. Ash Ketchum and Misty run out, and Ash nudges Judge Mental, who to emphasize Ash’s awesomeness, slices open several arteries. Misty pokes Hearford. Normally, this could cause a heart attack, or worse, but Judge gets up and starts shaking the ring ropes (Repo Man having brought back the ring). Misty tries slapping Judge, who just continues to shake the ropes. Ash even goes so far as to punch Hearford, but Will just keeps shaking the damn ropes. He then turns towards Ash and locks him in a gorilla press weaverlock!! Judge drops Ash on a hat pin and turns towards Misty. He simply throws her to Wilson, who, despite being dropped head-first on jagged rocks earlier, has completely healed and takes Misty to his “secret fortress.” Judge hops into the ring, where an elderly Jewish gardener, hired by Wilson, takes down Hearford with some well-placed kung-fu chops! However, the gardener quickly goes down to a bite to the eye from Kraig.

 

Just at that moment, Thug drops down from the rafters, and stabs Kris four times in the legs. Quickly, Gonzales has sex with Thug, making her docile. And then some other stuff happens, some of which involving a goat, some midgets, lots of blood, chicken wire, head drops, and such.

 

Riley: Okay, repeat that again. How are lesbians made?

 

Stevens: Okay, one way is that they have sex with men like Kibagami or Flesher, and they know that there’s no way that it can be topped. Then there’s when they have sex with, or even talk to people like you, something many people who saw all of the Clerks episodes call the Randal Effect, wherein the woman realizes the worthlessness of all males. At least, that’s what Tom Flesher and Kibagami told me.

 

Meanwhile, Silent is drinking.

 

Meanwhile, Gus is walking through some corridors backstage. Gus has lost overness from this segment.

 

Meanwhile, GOdrea runs in and slaps the shit out of the attack monkey with a golden gopher. The golden gopher and the attack monkey brawl off-camera (the entire match can be seen later on Hot Shit Wrestling.)

 

Judge sees this and yells about order in the court, but suddenly his pants fall down and he trips and falls and cracks his skull on the STEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL steps and Kris says “tubular to the maximundo dude!”

 

“Carless" Mark Jindrak fucks a prostitute in the ass, in a totally unrelated segment.

 

Meanwhile, something else happens.

 

BACK TO THE MATCH! Kross says “tubular!” one time too many, which inadvertently summons Mr. Galatea (or maybe G was drunk and got lost on the way to the bar and ended up in Podunk, Egypt HEY FUCK YOU DUDES, THIS IS MY MATCH IT HAPPENS HOW I SAY) and he and Neilsen slap on the…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TIGER MCTWAMER GETS ITS OWN PAGE MOTHERFUCKER

 

BOW DOWN

 

BOW DOWN

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

G and Neilsen win, and they go out drinking with Silent and Tom and they all pick up some bitches.

 

Yeah.

 

what

 

The lesson: No-showing sucks, unless you’re Galatea or you were in the Clan.

 

Booyah, word to your moms.

 

(A K/G production. 2003, all rights reserved.)

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Best match I've ever seen, and, bonus, the only match I've ever known to actually include the legendary Tiger McTwamer in it. Kudos to you GOdrea...my favorite chick in the IGN-SWF. I want to have your baby.

 

That said...I am really f**kin' drunk right now. Rock on and Neilsen lives for a while.

 

 

 

 

 

P.S. if y'all don't praise the Greatest Of All Time...there's some serious sh*t to pay. Neilsen out. Have a nice year.

 

 

P.S.S. And thanks for correcting that damned Neil-(SON) bullsh*t. It's Neil-mother f**kin'-sen for Christ's sake. Anyway. Later. Oh yeah.

 

Wild Child- Kick ass, take names, win the f**kin' big one. I want ya' to, and that IS f**kin' sayin' somethin'. Later all. Beware Wild and Dangerous. They were my first picks for a new Pack even if they never knew it.

 

Neilsen of the MOTHER F**KIN' Jungle saying...I'll be drunk again...I'll be back before it's all over. Peace Out.

 

And Neilsen is an extension of my personality whether ya' like it or not. And...I'm gone.

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Guest Beingz0wningj00

I haven't been active since September, with the exception of two matches... but good to see you NotF'NJ

 

Times like this that make me wish I could bash you in the head with the sledgehammer... I'll knock all your teeth out one of these days. (Y)

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