Why the provocatively titled post, you may be wondering. Because tonight I'm going to rasslin. That's right, going to rasslin! In honor of the occasion, I've created my own lyrics to this timeless classic:Cheering Freddie Blassie as he nails a pencil neck geek with his cane, that's rasslin'. Watching the toxic shock syndrome warp Mike Von Erich's brain, that's rasslin. Taking in The Sandman's dated shtick before he gets arraigned, that's rasslin.
That's right...yours truly Malibu Sands will heading down to the legendary First Avenue Mainroom (site of my first and last Juliana Hatfield Three concert) and congregating with the upper Midwest's birth defects and D&D gaming communities for an evening of blown spots, lame gimmicks, and $7 Sierra Nevada bombers. Yes, these are the all too familiar trappings and artifacts of an indy rasslin' show!
And what a card the promoters have assembled for tonight! It's like TNA's Genesis, Destination X, and Sacrifice, and all rolled into one (aka Bound for Glory). Scheduled to appear tonight are garbage sensation and notorious glassware chucker The Sandman, local talentless yokel Horace the Psychopath (not to be confused with the nationally renowned talentless yokel Horace Hogan), the chronically underemployed Arik Cannon along with a bunch of other aspirant steroid abusing and painkiller addicted degenerates whose names are unfamiliar to me.
Per Facebuster tradition and obligation, a detailed recap of what memories remain after gulping down about $50 worth of intoxicating beverages will be submitted for your reading pleasure sometime next week.
R-A-S-S-L-I-N that's rasslin! R-A-S-S-L-I-N that's rasslin!
*The title of the post makes the assumption that Glen Goza is alive. In fact I have no idea if this John Williams of professional wrestling related songcraft still walks among us or if he has joined Rocky Mountain Thunder** in that great big hobo camp in the sky.
**Arabian Facebuster is not legally liable for misreporting any facts pertaining to Rocky Mountain Thunder's whereabouts, hobbies, life status, or wrestling acumen.
2 comments:
Strangely quiet on the Sands front. Did he get Kendo sticked to "Hell"? Or perhaps in a fit of jubilant simpatico intoxication slam a half-full Coors Light Silver Bullet into his thrashing cranium?
I'm staying tuned!
the rev.
I need to get the photos of a completely shit canned Sandman (really, is there any other way of being for that guy?) off my phone and onto the interwebs. Then I'll fill in the Leinie's Honey Weis soaked details.
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