Four on the Floor: AFSC&FC

Arabian Facebuster has up and gone done it again. No, we're not relaunching the PastaMania! franchise under the awning and adjacent to the untrimmed shrubbery pictured above and bringing back its signature dish -- ragu of white squirrel on a bed papparadelle noodles -- on the unsuspecting and likely to be disinterested masses. We can't, for the building has been bulldozed and the awning has mysteriously vanished.

Nor are we awarding honorary Facebuster author/contributor status to Buck Rock and/or Roll Zumhofe. We won't, for we have aversion towards -- check that, a rational and genuine fear of -- midgets interacting in civil society, let alone locking up in a wrestling ring with, folk from an vertically unimpeded persuasion. And Buck Zumhofe is both a known associate and staunch ally of midgets and midget related causes, like middle turnbuckle smashes, cowering behind a referee's lower thigh, and having sentiments other than sheer revulsion and utter contempt towards Hornswaggle.

Rather, we're curating a 4th annual and what may end up being the final Staff Conference and Fan Conclave in the birthplace of PastaMania! and sure to be the mausoleum of the Rock&/0r Roller, the Twin Cities of Saint Paul and Minneapolis, MN. And we're convening during WrestleMania weekend, March 26-28!!!

WrestleMania prognostications, live PPV viewership, hours upon hours of assorted VHS and DVD watching, (crosses fingers) live wrestling from the F1RST pro crew, growlers, boots, Von Furious tall boys, the egging followed by the pillaging of the Zumhofe family rambler, and sporadic to non-existent live-blogging will be the order of the weekend.

Book your transportation, lodging, and yr weekend itinerary of unfettered, carefree debauchery post haste!

An Open Letter to David Cross...

Facebuster Nation, in the spirit of cross pollination and promotion, I'd like to offer up a very special Takes on Matters™ approved take on last night's Miz & Big Shew Unified Tag Team Title victory over D-Generation X, who from what Rev. Von. Fury tells me, were palling around and hamming it up with one of the only guys who could make the fusion of DX and Hornswaggle seem like the savviest of booking decisions, $5 foot long connoisseur and gastronomic anti-Christ Jared Fogle from those insufferable Subway commercials.

Dear David Cross:

Where do you get off? NOT debuting on last night's episode of Monday Night RAW as the acerbic tongued manager of The Miz and The Big Shew, rechristening this title-holding tag team combination as Mizter Shew, and setting in motion a six-man tag team showdown with you and your team against D-Generation X and Jared at WrestleMania?

Who do you think you are?!?!

Sincerely,

-Malibu Sands
Chairman and CEO, Takes on Matters
Executive Vice President Emeritus, Tully Blanchard Enterprises, Incorporated

Not too my own horn ladies and gentlemen, but consider that a prescient and levelheaded take on a timely and pressing matter. Phrased differently: Toot. Toot.

Coming soon: Takes on Matters via Arabian Facebuster takes on the Special Olympics (Dear Special Olympics Athletes: You've got some nerve...I've watched your events and seen your finishing times and results, they ain't that special...), The Brady Bunch (Dear Carol Brady: Where do you get off...being a stay at home mom AND needing a full-time housekeeper...), and short lived, the neon and spandex clad tag-team phenomenon The Dynamic Dudes (Dear Johnny and Shane: Who do you think you are...NOT imploring the original rock'n'roller Buck Zumhoffe to become your mentor...and in Shane Douglas' case, your special companion slash tag-team life partner...).

Stay tuned.

Yr Black History Month Foto of the Week

Edward "Bearcat" Wright who wrestled up and down the West Coast (as well as in Australia and in front of our hoser neighbors to the north) throughout the 1960s and early 1970s.

More on Bearcat's career and legacy here.

The Death of Extreme (the non-extreme version)

From Da Meltz and Da Chico via the interwebs home of da Apter mags:

On tonight's ECW television show [which was presumably last night's show], Vince McMahon announced that the ECW brand and television show will cease to exist in three weeks, and would be replaced by a new show.

He offered no details other than it would be the next evolution in WWE pro wretling television. It is believed the show will be named WWE NXT, according to PWInsider.com

Thank fucking Christ that Vinny Mac found the good sense to finally pull the plug on this professional wrestling dishonor, monstrosity, and parody/mockery.

More intriguingly, it appears that this next/latest evolution in WWE pro wretling pro wrestling sportz entertainment programming is the elimination of vowels from its TV show titles!?! Will the rebranding of WWE Mndy Nght RW and Frdy Nght Smckdwn! soon follow? Or is the vowel just a concession to the Syfy network's idiosyncratic handle and geeks who have never come close to approaching anything that would even remotely qualify as a sexual magnetism let alone encounter with a persuasion of the opposite sex friendly corporate culture?

Most significantly, will we actually witness an evolution with regard to the content, target audience/demographic, look/feel of the show, and wrestling style or just more of the same bland, stale, safe, and too often homogenized/interchangeable characters, interviews/promos, storylines, matches, and programming format spruced up with a glossy new title, opening montage, late '90s era rap-metal fusion theme song, ring apron, and even more combustible and noisy pyro?

I strongly suspect it's the latter.

Yr Black History Month Foto of the Week

Koko B. Ware (with his trusted parakeet Frankie who appears to be shackled to that wooden poll)

3:2

Odds that Edge suffers another debilitating injury necessitating a couple of surgeries and 6+ months out of the ring/off TV recuperating between now and WrestleMania.

Dream Match: Nightmare

Bruiser Brody vs. Undertaker. Dream match that wrestling fans wish that they could have seen happen, and very well might have had it not been for the loathsome and despicable piece of shit otherwise known as Jose Gonzalez/Invader I, seen here getting decimated by our revered furry booted, wild eyed brawler. Right!?

Well, not exactly. For the match itself actually did happen, back in the post-boom, non-glory days of World Class Championship Wrestling promotion, circa 1987/1988. A grayer than I remember Bruiser Brody vs. a very green, lumbering, taut, rigid, and inflexible Undertaker, under a hood as Texas Red (which predated his The Punisher phase) and accompanied by his manager the Percival Pringle III, sporting an absolutely boss canary yellow with black stars blazer (Pringle of course would later go on to gain another 200 pounds and five chins, dye his hair black, and become Paul Bearer). 120 year old Bronko Lubich handles the slow counting duties while Mark Lowrance narrates the sluggishly paced action.

While not exactly approaching Rocky Mountain Thunder vs. any and all American Wrestling Association jobbers in terms of in-ring wretchedness and botchitude, this match certainly fails to live up to what one would expect from two of the best big men/super-heavyweights to, in the unfortunately and carelessly chosen words of Magnum T.A. -- and I'm paraphrasing here -- "get it on like two grown men should do" in the homoerotic charged confines squared circle.

The Undertaker gets absolutely worked over in this one, getting in absolutely zero offense against the relentless veteran. I also believe this was the last time The Undertaker actually did a clean job...

Chris Jericho + Hurricane Helms + Alcohol= BU$$$TED!

Dateline-The Shell Gas Station in something called Buttermilk Pike, KY. Allow Da Meltz and Da Chico to elaborate on Da Facebuster's behalf:

TMZ.com reported today that Gregory Helms allegedly hit several people, including a woman, before the arrest of himself and Chris Jericho at a Shell gas station on Buttermilk Pike in Crescent Springs, KY, just outside of Erlanger, KY, at about 5 a.m. Wednesday morning after the Smackdown/ECW TV tapings.

Police spoke to several members of a group traveling together in a taxi that included Helms, Matt Hardy and Jericho. They alleged Helms struck three people, Jericho, Gary Kelley and Ashley Storer and then ran from the scene when the cab driver pulled over at the gas station. A later police report said Helms also struck a fourth person, who left the scene with him, later identified as Hardy. A witness to the situation said Helms did not hit Storer as reported.

Helms returned to the gas station where he and Jericho were arrested for public intoxication. Hardy didn't return when police had arrived, but no action is being pursued against him.

Helms was not charged with assault because none of the alleged victims would press charges, which is a requirement in the state if police have not witnessed the attack.

Storer told police she didn't want to press charges. Kelly told police he was thinking it over.

"It's hard to say exactly how in depth this fight was," said Kevin Gilpin of the Erlanger police, which responded to the call. "There was a disagreement while they were inside of a cab. When we got there, obviously they were out of the cab and made contact with the police, and were arrested a short time after that."

Both wrestlers were cooperative when the police arrived and have court dates scheduled for February 16 at Kenton District Court on the misdemeanor charge. Both men were released at about 7 a.m. after posting $120 bond.

"We get there and they basically say Helms kind of turned into an ass and starts kind of getting physical iside the cab," Gilpin said.

Helms had a cut above his right eye in his mug shot, although it was not stated where the cut came from.

This whole early morning, alcohol fueled escapade cum rampage at the Upland South's Kum & Go Pump N Munch equivalent evokes more questions than it provides actual answers. Why would anyone -- let alone the caliber of Y2J -- want to hang with, around, or for that matter anywhere in an eye shot of the insufferable Shane Gregory Helms? Do The Hurricane's punches pack any kind of might, fury, or pain whatsoever? Who the hell are Gary Kelley and Ashley Storer? Is this some kind of magical clown cab or, conversely, a handicap accessible van-cab like the one Pencil Neck Geek and I caught on our way back from a night of falafel (more specifically, the waiting and waiting for followed by the devouring of), kang, drunken dog walking, and keg stand assistance related indulgences during last year's 3rd Annual AFSC&FC? Otherwise, how does one explain five (at minimum) passengers plus one cab driver no doubt redolent of cheap, stale instant coffee, urine, and car air freshener in one vehicle? How will the WWE punish these superstars? By having Jericho and Helms do high profile jobs at Wrestle Mania and the upcoming Beaumont, TX house show, respectively? And what of Matt Hardy: Should we interpret his continued tag team alliance on the Friday night muthaship otherwise known as Smackdown! with The Great Khali as (1) retaliatory, (2) compensatory for having to languish in ECW for all of those months, or (3) simply as more evidence of the directionless, deteriorating, sterile nature of the contemporary WWE product?

That is all.

Yr Random Pro Rasslin' Sign of the Week

Big White Asshole Runs Mouth/ Big Angry Black Woman Responds

Oh Whimsy! Thy name be TNA! Everybody's favorite overweight, overly privileged, Hulk Hogan Syndicated Sycophant, Bubba the Love Sponge really did it this time! Seems Bubba's got the size-seven man- jewels to say that which EVERYBODY's been thinking, but nobody's been SAYING when he 'Twatted his precient analysis of the goings ons in our Westernly Hemisphere with "F--- Haiti" this past weekend!

Oh Bubba, you silly sperm-soaked sponge, you! Seems not everybody was scrambling to align with your principled geopolitical stance in the T'un'Ehh backstage area, as one Awesome Kong took exception to your well-reasoned and thoroughly cogent analycezeeze, and saw fit to shut your fat cracker mouth with her whole-ham-hock- sized fists in a flurry of equally well reasoned rebuttals she thoughtfully entitled "This is for HAITI! (smack) This is for HAITI! (pow) This is for HAITI! (crack)"!

Not surprisingly, Bubba took to the airwaves to emplore his mouth-breathing, slack jawed army of AM-band enablers to admire his restraint and precesnse of "mind" in that he Chivalrously refrained (read: getting the shit-kicking beating his mother should have given him along time ago) from striking back at the offended Nubian. Seems Awesome Kong has been doing some fund-raising for the poor pols of Haiti, and she took Bubba's comments (and his later totally lacking half-assed apology) at their face value, and then returned said sentiments directly to Bubba's fat face.

Awesome Kong? Or The Awesomest Kong?!