I Can't Quit U, Mike Adamle

Since I'm so liquored up on Riunite (in crystalli, natch) after dissecting Hulk Hogan's appearance on this evening's Larry King Live -- to the point that I have been trying to juggle the empty bottles, wearing nothing more than a pair of fire engine red snow pants, chef's hat, and shit eating grin plastered across my yapper (in homage to the brash go-getter at the conclusion of this clip) -- I'm going to go against my better (read: non-Riunite affected) judgment and recap the Riunite sans ice (or if you prefer, Riunite neat) of sports entertainment programming otherwise known as the ECW on Sci-Fi.

And since I have exhausted my tray of ice cubes, I have switched over to Champale, the official sparkling malt liquor of affluent and upwardly mobile African-Americans. Consider this honky's thirst fully quenched.

And off we go...

9:00PM: Call (Mike Adamle): "Jamaican Me Crazy." Response (The Tazz): "Yeah, baby!"

9:01: Buh-bye Matt Sydal. Hello Evan Bourne. Their opponents, "the belligerent, bellicose, and just plain bad" (you're telling us, Adamle) Mike Knox and Shelton Benjamin.

9:05: "Have Mercy!!!"

9:06: Adamle states the obvious: "He [Kofi] can deliver that kick with either his right or his left leg." For no good reason, I retrieve my wooden tennis racket from the basement.

9:09: Sydal gets the hot tag and unleashes a barrage of crisply executed, visually impressive, high-flier offensive maneuvers. Sez Adamle: "It's not about power; it's about speed AND power." I pour a thimble of Champale out in honor of Randy Randy Pinsky and the other homie's that didn't make it off the stoop at 12th and Alder alive.

9:10: "The Bourne Identity is revealed." Sweet Jesus, pulling a double-shift of semi-live blogging is really taking a toll of my sanity, typing dexterity, and sobriety. Sydal picks up the W for his team by pinning The Gold Standard.

9:16: A personality-devoid-call by personality-devoid-call recap of last night's lackluster, time wasting, and in my case financially ruinous McMahon's Millions debacle.

9:20: I am so bombed on 1970s era alcoholic beverages that I fail to recognize Kelly*2 is Victoria's opponent for the evening.

9:22: Adamle shares with America that he hasn't played with his Barbie Dolls in a long time. I scour the interweb's in hopes that Adamle's parents, siblings, wife, offspring or other family members had the prescience and good sense to take a candid picture when this was occurring and publish it. No such luck.

9:33: Finlay squashes El Jefe. Teddy Long comes out and announces that El Jefe will now have to...you know the drill...same predictable yet directionless storyline advancement, different week.

9:41: Mark Henry is out to kill more television time. So too is The Big Shew. I get to work on tidying up my earlier recap. The extra time this episode spent in post-production (it was taped over the weekend instead of earlier this evening due to an overseas Smackdown/ECW tour) has encroached on both Adamle's quantity and quality of idiocy.

9:51: Main event time...Kane/Punk challenge Morrison/Miz for the tag straps. I take a hard-earned respite to evacuate my bladder.

9:53: Alright I confess, John Morrison has my favorite in-ring entrance in sports entertainment today.

10:04: Punk does the...you know the drill.

10:05: Fade to black. I opened a prestigious, highly sought after bottle of Champale for this?