Rocky Mountain Thunder: Looks Like Two Phone Booths (With Legs)

As we rapidly approach the end of 2009 -- the year of Rocky Peoples here at Arabian Facebuster -- it is once again time to pay homage to the two legged centaur with one gunny suck, zero wrestling acumen, and an incalculable predilection for scufflin' who ruled the proverbial Facebuster roost in 2008...and is poised to make a spectacular return to relevancy and the ongoing subject of our ridicule in 2010: The original bumbling and blundering "Rocky," Rocky Mountain Thunder.

Who was Rocky Mountain Thunder? Some say he was a misunderstood performance artist. Sort of a Andy Kaufman for the white trash survivalist set. Others claim he had his wallet stolen after a drug deal gone bad in Showboat Sports Pavilion bathroom and went to work wrestling for Verne Gagne's obsolete bordering on comatose AWA promotion in the Summer of '88 in order to procure bus fare back to Colorado. Judging by this clip of him sauntering around the ring while jobber Daryl Nickle bumps around like a maniac (or, in the warped perspective of Lee Marshall, gets thrown around the ring like a cabbage patch doll), he appears to be a talentless, easily winded lug with the most glaringly and alarmingly incompetent lack of pro wrestling fundamentals ever allowed to get inside, let alone within 20 feet, of a professional rasslin' ring, four or six sides notwithstanding.

Judge for yourself.

As customary, alternative post titles include: "Rocky Mountain Thunder: Awesome To Me In Size;" Daryl Nickle: Can't Move Rocky Mountain Thunder;" "Rocky Mountain Thunder: Has Made a Motion to the Crowd;" "Rocky Mountain Thunder: The Crowd Loves Him. And Well They Should;" and "Rocky Mountain Thunder: YIKES!"

Brooke Hogan: Still Built Ford Tough

ITEM: There is no need for the thick cut pork slab filled with vacuous and infantile thoughts and about one and one-half bills worth of silicon, Venti Latte's, Duncan Hines cake frosting, White Castle sliders, and Rey Mysterio Jr. look-alike spooge otherwise known as Brooke Hogan to join the upcoming cast of VH1's Celebrity Fit Club.

First off, her caliber of celebrity is far too low grade for that show, what with it's illustrious history of helping Hollywood's best and brightest -- Tina Yothers, Dustin Diamond, the Snapple Lady, Charles In Charge's Willie Ames, the lead singer of Warrant (Jani/Jamie Lane?), 1/2 of the gay brother power ballad super group Nelson, Gunner Nelson, 227's resident filthy, filthy whore Jackee, Josie from the smash hit Josie Love's Chachi, and presumably at one point some former cast member or members of the socially and politically conscious oblivious sit-com What's Happening (probably Shirley or Rerun or Dwayne or that fat woman who played the mom, or that petulant lil' cream puff Dee...pretty much anybody but the wafer thin Raj) -- shed the extra pounds and get their promising careers back on track.

Secondly, she's decided to go into the fat burning business herself...by hawking something called Paraslim Natural Weight Loss.

With Brooke being so eager to lend her name and therefore her reputation to this ground breaking new product, one could only assume it delivers the intended slimming, sexy results. *Scours interwebs for recent, preferably bikini-clad, photo of the blond ex-Sasquatch with hip-pop musical sensibilities in question.*

Yikes! Time for Brooke to try Plan B: The Cocaine Diet.

Yr Old Skool Misc Jim Cornette Foto of the Week

Jim Cornette presents the Bobby Eaton/Stan Lane version of The Midnight Express.

Friday Night Videos (X Mas Edition)

Merry Christmas from all of us at Arabian Facebuster.

And if you don't celebrate Christmas because of religious or secularist reasons, then happy garden variety Friday night. For unlike yr birth of Jesus celebrating, short-lived macroeconomic indicator stimulating, fa la la la la'ing brethren, you have no legitimate excuse not to get slobbering drunk, spend a good twenty minutes sexting with a cabin fatty or two, and give repeated viewings to this latest installment of Friday Night Videos featuring some grainy footage from The Midnight Rockers (and Rollers!?!?) short lived 1987 stint wrestling in the half-empty farm expo centers and war memorial auditoriums frequented by the Alabama based Continental Championship Wrestling promotion.

Shawn and Marty's opponents...international men of intrigue and former ASIAN TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!!!, The Terrorists. I think that's Terrorist #1 with the black body suit and red trunks. Wait, or is he in the red body suit and black trunks? Regardless, for a squash match in a slowly dying promotion (albeit one that enjoyed short lived resurgence in the Spring and Summer 1988 thanks to the innovative and often times controversially realistic booking and chicken shit heel in-ring contributions of Eddie Gilbert), this is some pretty solid action with The Terrorists bumping like crazy for those pretty boy whippersnappers who eventually prevail via a Rocker Plex.

FYI, the bleach blond, face painted hillbilly that appears in the box in the upper right hand corner is Danny Davis of The Nightmares tag team combination. Gordon Solie, (bottle o') scotch in hand no doubt, narrates the action.

Christmas Eve: Scenes from a Life

Jest Harvey Jeff Hardy, so high on THE drugs that he has lost all feeling in his face, shows off his preparations for the post-last call arrival of jolly ol' St. Nick...or perhaps his dealer.

Why We Watch, Exhibit V

Building off (a) this month's old skool tribute to manager, mouthpiece, fashion plate, and tennis racket smash executor extraordinaire James E. Cornette and (b) the goodness that was the eventual Dusty/Magnum-Midnight Express confrontation and brawl in our last example of Why We Watch (aka our ode to the jobber), Arabian Facebuster is proud to formally recognize tag team rasslin' as an integral component of the professional rasslin' experience.

And to me, no team espouses the majesty and essence of tag team rasslin' -- the continuity and fluidity between partners, the innovative double team maneuvers, the psychology of the enterprise (specifically the "face in peril" and "hot tag" fundamentals), the classic feuds and epic matches, the principle that being a part of tag team combination is an end in itself and not simply a means to executing an angle where one partner turns on the other and consequently receives a singles push, offer up a version of your top of the card singles matches on free TV, or a way to kill time on the undercard and give workers who you can't come up with a singles gimmick for something to do...hell even the coordinated/matching ring attire -- better than Jim Cornette's Midnight Express.

While not wanting to declare whether I prefer the Condry-Eaton or Eaton-Lane version of the team in this post (although I will submit that, to me, Condrey was a better worker and psychologist than Lane but Lane and Eaton's double team repertoire was more crisply executed, inventive, and extensive than the Condrey and Eaton tandem), I do want to emphasize that both combinations were outstanding, in no small part to the abilities of Jim Cornette as a braggadocio mouthpiece and fan ire generating magnet. Of course, having opponents of the caliber The Rock and/or Roll Express, The Fantastics, The Steiner Brothers, Dusty Rhodes and Magnum T.A., The Road Warriors, and even The Southern Boys to lock horns and feud with made tag team greatness that much easier to attain.

I have embedded two clips for yr consideration. Clip No. 1 showcases The Midnight Express (Condrey and Eaton) as they jump The Rock and/or Roll Express on an early 1986 edition of NWA World Wide Wrestling after Ricky and Robert make quick work of an unidentified pasty and spare tire gutted jobber. To no one's surprise, a wild brawl breaks out in the ring, spills into the interview area and envelops some of the upper card babyfaces in the back with Cornette and The Midnight's getting the better of their bitter tag team rivals on this occasion.



Clip No. 2 comes from the WTBS Saturday night flagship World Championship Wrestling circa June/July 1986 and features Tony Schiavone's cookie duster mustache, a tasteful rape joke, prop comedy superior to anything ever conceived by Gallagher or Carrot Top, a banana trunked Mulkey Brother lying down for a sloppily executed belly-2-belly suplex, a MAN sized wooden chair shot, babyfaces brandishing shovels, a perplexed, black glossy Members Only jacket attired hippopotamus, and Jim Cornette doing what he does best...running down the NWA fan favorites and in the process generating some molten heat for his men.



Enjoy.

RAW is Snore

Lemme get this straight...midgets leveling charges of discrimination then acting as judge, jury, and executioner against the Rowan and Martin of the WWE Universe Degeneration X...an arbitrary skit playing off the foibles and misfortunes of Elin and new found hero of Malibu Sands Tiger Woods...overrated, overpaid pretty boy outfielder Johnny Damon engaging in some whimsical, PG rated necrophilia with the cadaver otherwise known as Mae Young...IRS, Sgt Slaughter, Santino, and Chris Jericho ALL assuming the role of Kris Kringle (and presumably donning the same grimy Santa suit) with unforeseen, differing albeit consistently and equally unfunny results...Chris Masters in action against Carlito...DX making reparations to the midgets injured through its rampant culture of heightism by rescuing Hornswaggle, appointing him as their official mascot, and further cementing their status as the most profoundly uncool, purposeless, middle aged narcissists masquerading as middle aged nihilists super group since Oysterhead?!?!?

Sigh. December 2010 can't come quick enough.

(Belated) Friday Night Videos

Facebuster nation, I know what yr thinking with regard the lack of a Friday night grappling viewing option...for you've been barraging me with letters and emails all weekend about how I dropped the ball ...like this one below:

Dear Facebuster Sexy Action I-Team:

What the frick, guys!? I'm pissed! This past Friday, I did everything that brash, doobie smoking malcontent Malibu Sands suggested to optimize my Friday Night Videos viewing experience...I got fall down drunk at the local dive bar, picked up and bedded a 1/4 ton worth of fair skinned cabin fatty, grabbed my jean jacket and left immediately after the unprotected, profuse and surprisingly itchy sex on her water bed (although that could have been her stomach), hopped in my 1987 Plymouth Horizon and swerved home, parked my cherry ride carefully across my neighbor's lawn, stumbled inside my front door, opened my fridge, grabbed myself a tall boy, fired up the computer, and logged onto the interwebs in anticipation of some choice rasslin' action only to find that stinkin' picture of Jim Cornette and Mr. BBQ sauce still disgracing the top of the Facebuster homepage.

Please advise.

Sincerely,

Toolie South
aka "Pure Evil" T-South Heart
Cody, Wyoming US of A

A thousand apologies are due to you, fine sir. Please accept the rasslin' reparations below in the form of "The Handsome Halfbreed" Gino Hernandez taking on Tom Pritchard (back when he only had his Masters degree) in a great little TV main event from Southwest Championship Wrestling (Joe Blanchard's territory based out of San Antonio) in the early 1980s. The clarity and color of this footage is just brilliant, as is the fast paced, high intensity back-n-forth action between these two ring technicians.



Enjoy. We'll be back Friday with some regularly scheduled Friday night video goodness.

Yr Old Skool Misc Jim Cornette Foto of the Week

Jim Cornette along with a gaggle of circa 1983 Memphis heels, including The Grapplers (aka The Dirty White Boys) Len Denton and Tony Anthony, The Assassins (gold masks), Lucifer & The Prince of Darkness (the guys in those Halloween masks), Buddy Landell, Stan Frazier (bald great big fatso in the back), future Midnight Express member "Loverboy" Dennis Condrey, Porkchop Cash (token black guy), Troy Graham (guy in the front who looks kind of like "Hotstuff" Eddie Gilbert) Ken Patera (other guy in front who kinda looks like David Schultz), and future Hulk Hogan toadie Jimmy "Mouth of the South" Hart.

Yr Old Skool Misc. Jim Cornette Foto of the Week

Jim Ross and James E. Cornette call the NWA/WCW in-ring action from ringside, circa 1989/1990.

Friday Night Videos

Facebuster Nation, it's time for another installment of Friday Night Videos, Arabian Facebuster's weekly foray into the sqaured circles of yesteryear. Before introducing this week's clip, for the record, I want to state unequivocally that in spite of offering alternative Friday night rasslin' content for yr consumption and actual enjoyment, Arabian Facebuster is in no way looking to compete with or chip into the apathetic viewership and steady if unspectacular market share of the WWE Friday Night Smackdown sportz entertainment whirling dervish. For how do you compete with the straight edged bromance of CM Punk and his protege Luke Gallows...the rhyming "this" with "this" and "at" with "that" tendencies of Ron Killings...or the stratospheric ascent of Drew McIntyre amongst the WWE Universe and, equally significant, as a subject of adoration for one Bunny Bissoux?

You don't my friends. You just don't.

With that said, let's go to the ring and check out Tully Blanchard and Arn Anderson in tag-team competition. Their opponents...dynamic jobber firebrands Bob Emory and Max Macgyver (if you believe the announcer who I am unable to identify for the life of me, Chance McQuade if you trust the video uploader). To the surprise of no one, Tully and Arn squash this synchronized schlong cutted duo in short order with their trademark barrage of fists n' kicks' n' elbows spliced with some innovative double team maneuvers.

Based on the white/grey ring ropes and turnbuckles and the fact that Blanchard and Anderson were identified as Tag Team Champions, this National Wrestling Alliance action took place very early in 1988, or in the late Spring/Summer of that year.



And a bonus, I have also embedded a post-match Arn/Tully Four Horsemen horn tooting, Great American Bash promoting interview for yr enjoyment...albeit from a different bout and TV program than the one featured above.



Toot. Toot.

Latest Gagne Family Debaser Turns Herself In

And we've got her thimble sized mug shot to prove it!

From the local ABC affiliate...home to such quality programming as Supernanny and Better Off Ted:

Teacher Gagne Surrenders on Sex Charges
A teacher and relative of a Minnesota wrestling great accused of having a sexual relationship with a student turned herself in to county authorities Thursday.

Gail Gagne, 27, was charged Dec. 2 with two counts of felony third-degree criminal sexual conduct. At the time, her attorney Earl Gray, said she would plead not guilty.

She was out of state when the charges were issued and a warrant was issued for her arrest. She waited eight days and turned herself in.

After surrendering to authorities, Gagne posted bail and was released from Hennepin County Jail.

She worked at Cretin Derham Hall as a teacher, basketball coach and weight room supervisor. She is accused of developing a sexual relationship with a student who used the weight room.

According to charges filed in Hennepin County, the student said the relationship lasted from the summer to the fall of 2008. The student was 16. Gagne was 25.

The student said Gagne and he met at her Bloomington home and at a hotel near Mall of America.

Gagne is from a well-known Minnesota wrestling family. Her grandfather is legend Verne Gagne.

Gagne has a hearing scheduled for Friday 1:30 p.m.

Cretin Derham Hall put Gagne on leave as soon as police started investigating the allegations this past spring.

*****

Arabian Facebuster's Sexy Action I-Team is still looking into to whether Gail had sex with any 15-17 year old boys on her way back to the Twin Cities....or after posting bond.

Okay, you got us...we're doing no such thing. We're spending the afternoon relaxing on our couches, drunk on Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale's, watching Larry Nelson take an inverted Nestea plunge into the frigid deep that is the improperly filled dunk tank at Juke Box Saturday Night and Eddie Gilbert perpetrate acts of criminal vehicular operation on Jerry Lawler with pinpoint accuracy over and over again.

Check back with Arabian Facebuster for the latest developments in Weight Room Gate.

Yr Newer Skool Misc. Jim Cornette Foto of the Week

Jim Cornette flanked by the multi-Slammy Award winning Owen Hart.

Friday Night Videos

In an attempt to rid the stench of the latest but surely not the last Gagne family scandal from our collective acid washed jean jackets, yours truly Malibu Sands is proud to introduce a welcome albeit temporal respite for our readership...a bit that I'm going to call Friday Night Videos.

From the same Arabian Facebuster Sexy Action I-Team that brought you such Peabody Award nominated features as "Macho Madness Monday's" "Random Great American Bash Clip Friday's" and the two part expose into decadence and depravity that stems from trying to watch TNA's Impact Zone at a local Portland watering hole comes our most ambitious project to date...

The premise is simple: Every Friday late evening/early morning after a night of binge drinking, honky tonkin', cabin fatty fornication, and other unspecified acts mischievousness and debauchery catch a wave on the interwebs and surf on over to Arabian Facebuster. Fresh, unfettered content will await...in the form of an actual rasslin' match for you to gaze at in a near blacked out state before passing out in a puddle of your own sick!

Genius, right?

So, without further ado, let's go to the ring and join the action in progress as "Nature Boy" Ric Flair overwhelms and absolutely eviscerates something called Roy Rogers, plucky yet completely outmatched jobber. The bout emanates from the St. Louis Wrestling Club's (Sam Munchnick's promotion) Wrestling From the Chase program, circa 1982/1983. Larry Matysik calls the action.

Enjoy.

Samoan Bulldozer on Death's Door

Some breaking news blatantly lifted from Da Meltz's mixed martial arts ultimate cage fighting ad ridden site:

Edward Fatu, 36, is hospitalized in Houston and in what was described as life threatening condition by a long-time friend. He was just removed from life support.

His family was told to come into town as quickly as possible. Family members have been told they believe he suffered a heart attack.

Details are sketchy at this point but he apparently fell asleep last night while watching television, and several hours later, his wife found him not breathing with blood coming out of his nose and he was rushed to the hospital.

Fatu, who lives in nearby Spring, TX, wrestled under a number of names including Ekmo, Jamal and most notably Umaga. He had just returned a few days ago from the Hulk Hogan tour of Australia.

He was released by WWE in June after failing a drug test and refusing the company's wishes to send him to rehab.

On behalf of the Samoan Tourist Authoirty, here's hoping Eddie Fatu/Umaga is able to pull through.

Another Gagne...BU$$$TED

What's that old saying about steaming piles of bad news coming in threes?

First, Verne Gagne gets bu$ted (albeit not convicted) for assaulting and thereby killing a fellow infirmed resident of the ironically branded Friendship Village retirement castle. Then in one of the most spectacular instances of *gotcha* journalism ever recorded, Arabian Facebuster's Sexy Action News Team royally bu$ts Verne's mashed potato hued son Greg for failing out of boot camp at the notorious Camp Slaughter because, according to his dishonorable discharge records, he ran hills, tossed ropes, and did push ups "like a total fag." And now, their next of kin has been bu$$$ted in spectacular and humiliating fashion for engaging in some nefarious teacher weight room monitor at the local preparatory academy for the affluent and athletically gifted on student who's only 17 (nod to Winger) love making at the local La Quinta motor lodge!!!

Gagne's granddaughter charged with sex crime

Former Cretin-Derham teacher is accused of having sex with a student. The woman is the granddaughter of wrestler Verne Gagne.

The granddaughter of wrestling legend Verne Gagne is charged with two counts of third-degree criminal-sexual conduct with a student at Cretin-Derham Hall in St. Paul.

Gail E. Gagne worked as the weight-room supervisor at the school in the summer of 2008. The complaint alleges that Gagne, then 25, engaged in sexual conduct on several occasions with an 17-year-old student who is not identified in the complaint.

Her lawyer, Earl Gray, said Thursday she will plead not guilty and go to trial.

The alleged victim said Gagne took him to her Bloomington home and engaged in oral sex with him. Later, she took him to a hotel near the Mall of America where the two spent the night and had sex, the complaint said.

Hotel records and Gagne's credit card receipts show that on Sept. 13-14, she spent the night at LaQuinta Hotel on Nicollet Avenue south in Bloomington, the complaint said.

The Cretin-Derham Hall principal told police that Gagne was hired at the school in November 2007 as an assistant basketball coach. From January through September 2008, she was a substitute teacher. In the summer of 2008, she worked in the weight room and in late September 2008, she was hired as a full-time teacher, the complaint said.

As the weight-room supervisor, she worked with students to ensure they properly used the equipment and supervised the students who had work-study jobs there. The alleged victim had a work-study job in the weight room.

On May 4, 2009, police were called to the school to investigate an allegation of sexual conduct between a student and a teacher. The complaint did not explain the lag time from the alleged activity, the report to police and the filing of charges.

Gagne is not in custody. St. Paul police say they believe she is living in the Chicago area. Hennepin County Judge Ron Abrams issued a warrant for her arrest Tuesday.

Gagne, now 27, is the granddaughter of former professional wrestler Verne Gagne and the daughter of former professional wrestler Greg Gagne.

No court date has been set. Both charges are felonies punishable by up to 15 years in prison each.

Greg Gagne declined to comment.

No word on whether they booked into a room with one king sized bed or one with two double beds...in which case one could only assume -- in the parlance of the affable and bleach teethed Bob Eubanks -- they made Whopee in both beds, thereby adding about 6 and one-half minutes of time for Lupita, the introverted and perpetually sleepy La Quinta housekeeper, to sanitize and make up their den of iniquity.

Late Update: Sorry, it's "background singers" that come in threes. Background singers.

Yr Old Skool Misc. Jim Cornette Foto of the Week

Flanked by his body guard Big Bubba Rogers, Jim Cornette introduces his NWA Tag Team Champions The Midnight Express, circa 1986.

(Nick) Hogan Knows Irony

I love it when blog fodder writes itself. Take it away TMZ...

Nick Hogan was involved in a minor car accident last night in downtown Los Angeles.

There were no injuries. Police came to the scene, but no report was taken.

He was coming back from a charity event to raise money for an organization called Keep It On The Track that teaches people to drive safely.

Closely related, sometime next week, I expect it to be reported that Nick's charlatan father Hulk Hogan is either (a) planning to open up his own rasslin' training school; or (b) hosting a benefit designed to raise awareness of his courageous albeit futile fight against follicle deficiency syndrome.

Thanksgiving...19 Years Ago

Ugh.

Thanksgiving...25 Years Ago

Starrcade 1984 was held at the Greensboro (NC) Coliseum. In the main event, "Nature Boy" Ric Flair retained his in NWA World Heavyweight Wrestling Championship in a controversial decision over "The American Dream" Dusty Rhodes after special guest referee Smokin' Joe Frazier stopped the bout due to a small gash on the Dream's forehead.

WTF!?!?

A Dusty Rhodes matched stopped due to an innocuous cut and a trickle of blood?!? Now that my friends is the epitome of the "Dusty finish."

Of note on the undercard, a pre-Enterprises Tully Blanchard put his Television Title on the line against Ricky "The Dragon" Steamboat. The NWA World Tag Team Champions Ivan and Nikita Koloff faced off against Ole Anderson and something called Keith Larson. Oh, and Paul Jones and Jimmy Valiant marked the second year of their protracted lower-mid card stalemate of a feud by doing battle in tuxedo/street-fight/loser leaves town match in which I have no doubt was an overbooked, interference laden, plunder filled mess.

For the full Starrcade 84 lineup and results, take a gander here.

Sparky Plugg Hearts Chick Donovan

Here at Arabian Facebuster, we gain a smug sense of satisfaction when pro wrestling's past intersects and/or collides with its future present...um, more recent past. Take the clip above featuring part-time male stripper, part-time Ultimate Warrior body double, and full-time brightly colored tassle accessorizer Chick Donovan. Culled from the seedy underworld of short-lived, deep south early-to-mid 1980s rasslin' promotions -- an underworld that is once again seeing the light of the day thanks to the power of YouTube and will be receiving a thorough treatment right here at Arabian Facebuster in the weeks and months to come -- this clip from something called World Organization Wrestling which appears to emanate out of Tom Wopat's helicopter hangar and features: (1) If only for a moment, Chick Donovan doing his patented tiny gyrating wang dance; (2) Donovan standing around in the ring, pointing at objects unbeknownst to the announcers, fans around the ringside area and television audience; (3) Donovan unleashing a flurry of right hands and drop kicks delivered at groin level elevation; (4) The adversaries in question finally getting the better of this Benson & Hedges beefcake.

Pretty pedestrian sounding so far, right!?

But wait. It gets marginally better as none other than Bob "Sparky Plugg" Holly-- porn mustache, asymmetrical mullet, crossed eyes, and all -- comes up into save Donovan and assume the proverbial babyface "house of fire" role on the out of shape, backwoods, slack jawed, banjo plucking, moonshine bootlegging, ambivalent towards the Confederacy heel tandem.

"Nothing but excitement here on World Organization Wrestling!" Indeed generic low-budget rasslin' promotion announcer guy. Indeed.

Sound Celebration

Never one to shy away from logic and congruence, earlier this month th' Pencil Neck Geek inquired whether the walking blimp otherwise known as Scott Hall would soon be cloaked in the incandescent Facebuster great big fatso of the week spotlight.

Good question. My retort would be yes...but not exactly.

You see, I want to take us back to a time when Scott Hall was a lean, mean, toned, plucky, schlong cutted, Tom Selleck mustached, reptilian stick poking machine and most certainly not abusing alcohol, cocaine, painkillers, miscellaneous prescription drugs, and his dessert bar privileges at the local Old Country Buffet.

The year...1989. The promotion...The National Wrestling Alliance. Scott Hall's objective...To run roughshod over the federation's vaunted jobber pool by night while upsetting the fragile ecosystem of the Florida Everglades by purging it of its native species by day.

Like you dear readers, I have no idea if the Billy Ocean song is in reference to Scott Hall's outlook, attitude, and moxie inside the squared circle or to those gators who flee from this handsome grappler's frenzied prodding.

I am also posting this clip as a way of formally acknowledging and celebrating the fact that Pencil Neck Geek once again has a properly functioning sound card and now can revel in the sights AND completely unhinged sounds of Buck "Rock and/or Roll" Zumhofe, Randy "Macho Man" Savage, the original (orange hued) dirigible otherwise known as Hulk Hogan, Ox Baker, and yrs truly Malibu Sands...just to name a few.

Enjoy!

State of the (Facebuster) Union

(Dorton Arena, Raleigh, NC)

Facebuster Nation, I apologize for the lack of substantive blog content over the past few weeks. Now Rev. Von Fury, while I respect yr opinion and will passive-aggressively defend yr right to express it, I simply fail to appreciate how my upload yesterday of Silo Sam compressing Larry Nelson's head qualifies as anything approaching or remotely resembling high quality blog fodder.

So what gives? Where was I? What have I been up to these past weeks? Painstakingly putting to paper in vivid detail every rear chin lock, arm drag take down, convoluted yet utterly predictable reversal sequence, and botched flippity floppity spot after *sigh* botched flippity floppity spot from September's F1RST pro rasslin' show in order to fulfill my recap obligations? Absolutely not. Scouring the Twin Cities metropolitan areas finest garage sales and liquidation clearance outlets for a tape player so that I may finally get to listenin' and reviewin' Hulk Hogan's book-on-tape per my comeuppance for making such shitty Wrestle Mania 25 prognostications? Yes, albeit in a dawdling, easily distracted and half-assed manner. Prolifically recording my hastily marinated takes on an assortment of pressing Buck Rock and/or Roll Zumhoffe related matters on Rev. Von Fury's answering machine? Absolutely! Not watching WWE programming except for a segment or three of Friday Night Smackdown on a fortnight? That almost goes without saying...

Truthfully (that would be shootfully in rassle speak), I have been contemplating how to best share this decision with the Facebuster Sexy Action News Team...that 2010 will be my final year contributing to our beloved Arabian Facebuster project.

It will also mark the end of my tenure as Executive Vice President of the Janitorial and Custodial Division at Tully Blanchard Enterprises, Incorporated.

Bottom line, I find the contemporary product -- the WWE and TNA in particular (I don't view enough Ring of Honor to pass judgment on it...I suspect I would enjoy it a great detail but time and convenience/ease of access/my laziness make it prohibitive) -- tedious, monotonous, homogeneous, bland, stale, disengaging, and thus joyless...whether it be from an artistic, earnest, ironic, kitschy, derogatory, fault finding, or utterly thoughtless perspective and viewpoint. Of course, there are a few exceptions: namely and consistently Chris Jericho and to a lesser and more sporadic extent, yet still worthy of acknowledgment Samoa Joe, AJ Styles, CM Punk, John Morrison, and Mark Swaggle.

Alright, not Mark Swaggle.

But when John Cena's matches and promos no longer gnaw at your craw and offend your sensibilities as a rasslin' fan, you know that the sportz entertainment ethos has won, that professional rasslin' is/has lost, and that your 25+ years of fandom occupies the space between disarray and disrepair.

With that said, I commit and look forward to providing another 13 months (hopefully without any extended interruptions and respites in posting) worth of rasslin' related content that hopefully you will find provocative, humorous, well written, informative/enlightening, of high quality, and in the non-hyperbolic words of Good Ol' JR, absolutely scintillating.

Specifically, I need to complete the "Why We Watch..." series. And the Hogan book-on-tape recapitulation. Closely related, I want one last chance to redeem myself at the granddaddy of 'em all WrestleMania...um, picking match outcomes. There are a number of YouTube clips that warrant contextualizing and celebrating for their brilliance...and in many cases sheer terribleness. I hope we are able to organize one last Staff Conference and Fan Conclave. Oh, and I suspect that The Undertaker might feel compelled to get a hold of Rev. Von Fury on matters that loosely involve and grasp to incorporate Sara Undertaker. Plus, I'm sure Hulk Hogan will need to be repeatedly taken to task for his self-promoting, narcissistic, shameless and shameful ways. Debunking and destroying the myth of Hulkamania and the tenets upon which it relies has been so much easier (and arguably more rewarding) than waging war on sportz entertainment.

Alright, that's enough introspection, sincerity, and self-contained gravity for one post.

Let's go to the ring...