And The Winner, By A Nose...

The staff of Arabian Facebuster would like to offer our sincere congratulations to the lovely and talented Eve Torres, Your Diva Search Winner for 2007!

Ms. Torres cantered across the finish line on Monday Night RAW, in a tension-filled ceremony wedged between a Santino Marella promo and a Randy Orton match. Here's hoping that's not a bit of gym-bag-related foreshadowing.

Kudos to you, Eve. May your newfound Diva Status bring you all the career benefits implied by the long, prestigious history of Diva Search Winners Past. Now strap on that feedbag, girl. You've earned it.

Yr Old Skool Facial Hair of the Week

The Legendary Ox Baker

Why We Watch...Exhibit F

We watch professional wrestling for the technical execution of Ric Flair, the rugged, double-tough grappling style of Stan Hansen, the foreign object wielding chicanery of Abdullah the Butcher, the self-induced humiliation of Jim Hellwig, and the brazen tauntings of Dick Murdoch. (Sorry folks, I'm too lazy to link back to all of these references/posts...just a take a stroll through the Arabian Facebuster archives to relive these wonderful memories) We also watch wrestling to marvel at the spectacle of a most generously proportioned, two toned mullet sporting, Mulkey Brothers annihilating fellow named "The Ragin' Bull" Manny Fernandez repeatedly fly through the air, each time landing his knee squarely on the chest and throat of his hapless opponent, Invader III; not to be confused with Invader I, the dastardly son of a bitch that stabbed Bruiser Brody to death in a shower stall 19 years ago.

While this footage -- taken from Puerto Rico's World Wrestling Council promotion, circa 1989 -- may seem excessively graphic and violent for late 1980s syndicated television, the volume of splattered blood on the canvass and quotient of superfluous gore is not incomparable to more contemporary examples, be it a footage from the crime scene of a high profile murder covered ad nausea by Fox News, an egregiously botched plastic surgery on Dr. 90210, or a particularly malicious bum fight on Disney's acclaimed after school serial Hannah Montana.

Enjoy the ruthlessness.

WSX: Where Aren't They Now?

In news that surprises absolutely nobody, our beloved Teddy Hart has been released from his WWE development contract. Sadly, it would appear that his termination has little to do with projectile vomiting or fisticuffs. Instead, Our Ted got the sack for crowbarring his entire moveset into every match he wrestled, despited being warned by various officials to tone it down.

Well listen up, you WWE pigs! Don't hire the spinny-flippy if you can't HANDLE the spinny-flippy! He's on a mission from GOD, dicks! Jesus sent Teddy Hart to push wrestling FORWARD and if your atavistic pea-brains can't handle the AWESOME then Teddy will just have to start his own federation! AGAIN! And this time it'll have three different rings! Stacked on top of each other! With trampolines... FLAMING BARBED WIRE TRAMPOLINES! And a CAGE ON TOP!! And filled with ELECTRIFIED TASER PIRANHAS!!! WITH FLAMING DEATHMATCH BROKEN GLASS TRAMPLOINE CAGES ON THEIR HEADS!!!! And Teddy Hart will BY GOD AND THE BABY JESUS perform EIGHTY SIX CONSECUTIVE MOONSAULTS off the CAGES on the HEADS of the FISH in the CAGE on top of the THREE RINGS and the TRAMPOLINES until he FUCKING PUKES!!!!! ARRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!! EXTREME!!!!!!!! ROCK!!!!!!!!!! GO!!!!!!!!

Heh... gasp... puff... ah... whew.

Anyway, the British Bulldog's kid debuted on Monday. I'll let you know how that went if I can remember to set th' VCR for RAW en Espanol. But without Teddy Hart it's just kind of whatever, you know?

Iron Sheik: Protect Ya Neck!

The Howard Stern Show brings us some predictably disturbing news from the world of everybody's favorite crack-smoking anti-Semite, the Iron Sheik!

It seems Sheiky Baby was enjoying a much-deserved hot shower before taking the stage with the rolling circus of retardation and prescription drug abuse that is the "Killers of Comedy" tour. His manager entered the hotel room to inform Sheik that the show was about to start. Outraged, Sheik emerged from the shower and began berating his manager for showing up too early. The manager countered that, while he WAS ten minutes early, that was because Sheik needed to get down to the stage ON TIME. Slightly mollified, Sheik began getting dressed for the show. It was then that he noticed that his manager's eyes were... er... allegedly "roving." When asked if he meant that the manager was a "pecker checker," Sheik confirmed that yes, his manager was indeed a "pecker checker."

The real kicker is that this scandalous bit of gossip came out at the breakfast table of a Stuckey's outside of Weehaucken (or some damn place), and was bellowed (by th' Sheik, of course) into a tape recorder held by one of his travelling companions.

When contacted by the Stern Show for comment, Sheik was asked which Superstars from his wrestling heyday were "pecker checkers." Without a moment's pause, Sheik declared, "Pat Patterson."

Thank you and goodnight!

Hulk Hogan: Scenes From A Life, Part One

The following is an excerpt from the forthcoming major motion picture Dirigible: The Life Of Terrence Bollea, coming soon from Facebuster Pictures.

Interior Hospital, Day.We find Hulk conducting a vigil at the bedside of John Graziano.

Hulk: Come on, brother, you just gotta open your eyes, dude.

Hulk reaches out a trembling hand and pinches John on the arm, hard.

Hulk: Little dude? Little dude? Come on, brother, Nicky's counting on you!

Pinch.

Hulk: My little boy can't go to court, brother! Now listen here, dude... (pinch) you've gotta take your vitamins... (pinch) say your prayers... (pinch. A welt begins to form.) You're only as comatose as you feel, brother(pinch), and dude(pinch), brother(pinch), man(pinch), dude (pinch) what are you gonna do when pinch-a-mania runs wild on you?!

Hulk pinches John five times in rapid succession, growing more aggravated after each pinch. Finally he collapses, sprawling over John's torso.

Hulk:(weeping) Nicky, dude. What are we gonna do, brother? What are we gonna do-hoo-hoo? Little dude, my little dude, my little dude.

The force of Hulk's sobbing shakes the hospital bed. Enter Nurse.

Nurse: Mr. Bollea? What are you doing?

Hulk:(jolts upright) Nothing! Er... just trying to comfort this little Hulkamaniac, here.

Nurse: Well, he can't hear you, Mr. Bollea. All he can do is blink and get pinched (glares meaningfully at the angry welt on John's arm).

Hulk: Just a minute, sister dude! I heard this little dude's gag reflex is working!

Nurse: Sir, one of the orderlies was watching a tape of your cage match against Lex Luger. Mr. Graziano may be in a coma, but he's still human.

Hulk resumes weeping. Fade out.

If You Want To Beat The Man, You Have To Cheat The Man

This morning began like any other. I rose early, fed the dogs, made a pot of coffee, and ran down to the corner to grab a paper. I read "Mutts," fried some eggs, and then headed over to the guest bedroom to kick Ric Flair awake.

"Up and at 'em, champ," I muttered, my voice thick with yolk. "I circled a few Want Ads, in case you felt like... you know, looking for work?" It was then that I realized my authoritarian bullshit was echoing across an empty room. The Costco Mats were vacant. Ric Flair was gone. All he left behind was a hastily scrawled note.

"Gone to South Carolina to bust some heads. Back soon. Save me some eggs. -'Naitch'"

Well, that's good, I thought. Maybe he landed a gig with Christian Pro Wrestling. I might actually see that back rent, after all.

It was then that the lovely Valerie emerged from her laboratory. "The Facebuster 6000 just ran its morning search of the interwebs for salacious wrestling gossip! Something's terribly wrong!"

"What is it, dear, is Brooke Hogan icing out her grill again?"

"No, it's..."

"Randy Orton tried to buy a gun again?"

"No, it's..."

"They finally turned BDV into the BGV?!"

"No... it's Ric. He's suing a car dealership for infringing on his intellectual property."

"Damn it, I told Ric that his LeSabre technically belongs to the bank. We've got to get him back here."

After another ten minutes of our half-assed Burns/Allen routine, it became clear that The Nature Boy was actually upset over the dealership's commercials, which feature some joker named "Captain Freedom" shouting "Whooooeee"(?) a lot and declaring that if other car dealerships want to "be the man, they have to beat the man." Or, presumably, the prices. Or the quality of the vehicles. Or... something.

Anyway, it smells like copyright infringement to me. I hope Flair gets every last cent out of those no good hucksters. Hurry back with my cut, Naitch. There's a burrito for you in the fridge.

Idiot Son: The Aftermath

Recent news reports indicate that John Graziano, the passenger in the Supra pictured above, will likely remain in a nursing home for the rest of his life. He is able to open and close his eyes (sometimes), responds to pain and displays a gag reflex. And that, fans, is about as good as it gets for the poor guy. His mother is applying to be instated as his legal guardian, giving her legal power over his affairs and access to his military benefits (he's an ex-marine).

No word yet as to any possible legal action against the idiot who was driving the Supra. Perhaps his idiot father will give him a stern talking to. "Listen here, dude..."

Yr Old Skool Rasslin' Family of the Week

Boris Malenko managing his sons Joe and Dean.

Kurt Angle: Drunk Driver?

Here at Arabian Facebuster, we are dedicated to chronicling the vehicular follies and transgressions of your favorite (and least favorite) professional wrestling superstars. From Eddie Gilbert's efforts to maim Jerry "The King" Lawler with his rent-a-car in a 10MPH zone, to Hulk Hogan's idiot son's reckless, high-speed, cocksure joyriding escapades, to the Big Shew's Congressional Medal of Honor worthy attempt to mow down Hulk Hogan with his monster truck, to the shirtless hitchhiking misadventures (are there any other kind, really?) of the Fantastics, to Randy Orton's defecation in the trunk of the newest WWE Diva Search winner's canary yellow Mazda Miata (likely to occur in early 2008), we've got it covered, baby!

The latest alleged menace to this great nation's highways and byways? Why that would be your Olympic Hero and current TNA! Heavyweight Champion Kurt Angle, who was arrested last week for suspicion of DUI in suburban Pittsburgh. Oh, it's true...it's damn true. Here's the local CBS affiliates' report:

MOON TWP. - Olympic gold medalist and professional wrestling star Kurt Angle was charged Friday with driving under the influence.

Moon Township police said they received a call from a motorist at 1:49 p.m. complaining that someone driving a white Cadillac nearly struck his vehicle in a restaurant parking lot.

The motorist, who gave police the vehicle's license plate number, also said the Cadillac was driving erratically on Beaver Grade Road and almost hit a traffic sign. Police tracked the Cadillac to Angle's residence, which they did not identify.

Angle, 38, who has admitted an addiction to painkillers, told police he had been at the restaurant and driven home. He failed a sobriety test but refused a blood test. He was charged with driving under the influence of alcohol or a controlled substance and careless driving. He was released to appear in court at a later date.

If you ask me, this sounds like a classic case of mistaken identity. Getting shit-faced at 1:00 on a weekday afternoon? That hardly seems like the type of risky, unhealthy, deviant behavior that Kurt Angle, or for that matter anybody in the professional wrestling industry, would engage in. Refusing to cooperate with authorities? An addiction to painkillers? Possession of a controlled substance? Clearly, law enforcement must have apprehended another gold medal adorned, bald, belligerent, chemically dependent, broken down man who also just so happens to be named Kurt Angle.

Let's hope Mr. Angle retains high-powered defense attorney Clarence Mason and is swiftly exonerated of any wrongdoing.

BREAKING NEWS: Cena Out 6-8 Months

Dave Meltzer is reporting that John Cena was diagnosed today with a complete tear of his right pectoral muscle and will undergo surgery to repair the tear, thereby necessitating him to forfeit the blingy, spinny belt instead of simply jobbing it off this Sunday at the No Mercy PPV to the scourge of responsible potty trainers everywhere, Randy Orton.

Let this be a lesson to all WWE superstars...never try to execute a hip toss on one-time recreational steroid user (until of course the WWE implemented its Wellness Policy and convinced him of the merits of staying clean and shrunken testicle free) "Golden Boy" Mr. Kennedy.

Never.

What then is Arabian Facebuster's official position on this unfortunate matter? "Thank fucking God!" followed by a "It's about God damn time!" Allow me to clarify, whatever it takes at this point to get the title off the stale Cena and breathe some much needed life into the main event scene on Monday Night RAW, we're all for it.

With that said, I'm sure we'll be getting a steady diet of plodding, garbagey, interference ridden brawls for the title between Hunter and Mr. McMahon while Cena recuperates.

Disregard that aforementioned official position, kids...Hurry back John! For the love of God, hurry back!

Yr Old Skool Rasslin' Family of the Week

Kerry, David, Mike, and Kevin VonErich, circa 1983.