Since this week's RAW emanated from the genesis of the Arabian Facebuster Nation, I was curious if anybody in said nation had the gumption to shell out a hard earned $30 (plus an extra $70 for parking, beer concessions, and D-Generation X glow sticks) for a ticket.
Who amongst us made the pilgrimage to the pantheon of Rip City, the cultural hub known as the Rose Garden, to take in the spectacle that is World Wrestling Entertainment? (Who amongst us will be descending on the Rose Garden again tonight to catch the overpriced, formulaic, and self-indulgent stylings of Rock Star Supernova?) Who amongst us cheered wildly at the return of "Hot Rod" Rowdy Roddy Piper to a WWE ring and announcement that "The American Dream" Dusty Rhodes would be inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame? Who amongst us took pleasure in seeing the incomparable Ric Flair teach that arrogant punk whippersnapper Carlito a wrestling lesson he'll never soon forget? Who amongst us sat on their hands and/or stood in the beer line during every other match and backstage vignette? Who amongst us spent 16 hours constructing a homemade "Jeff Hardy is da (Swanson) Bomb" sign with nothing more than a piece of moldy cardboard, a tube of Elmer's, some glitter, and a box of Safeway Select elbow macaroni? And after the matches, who amongst us proceeded over to Tom's Pizza & Sports Bar to sip quenching frosty mugs of Iron City poured by this industrious young hottie while watching a Don West-muted, special Monday evening telecast of TNA, the ingeniously entitled "This is TNA?"
Speak up, oh devoted and intrepid Facebuster appratchiks!