Friday, May 28, 2010
Considering the life of Gary Coleman is seemingly in its last throes, it seems fitting to throw this unfortunately albeit prophetically titled clip ("Gary Coleman Dies") up on the ol' Facebuster of Arnold Jackson saving That '70s Guy Mike Awesome from string instrument related injury and humiliation at the hands of WCW's resident The Gooch Double J Jeff Jarrett.
That's correct. This action emanates from Double U C Double U in its dying days. Not TNA! in its present dying days...although I completely understand how you would confuse the two as they are analogous in their inanity, nonsense, and overall unwatchability.
As comeuppance for kneeing another man in the groin, Coleman gets his skull cracked by Double J and his trusty easy break guitar...the very same guitar that he was able to prevent Jarrett from using on The Fat Chick Thriller.
For all its overbooking and dysfunction, WCW sure knew how to convey irony.
Update: While composing this post, Gary Coleman passed.
From that town's paper of record:
When Ric Flair was a child growing up in Minneapolis, he wanted his parents to buy property on Lake Minnetonka. The family instead opted for a place on Lake Superior in Two Harbors.
In terms of its newsworthiness and excitement generation, this is equivalent to Jesus returning to earth, Dane Cook being brutally murdered on live national television, the Minnesota Twins winning the World Series, free Greenie's at Tony Jaros, and an The American Starship reunion in David Crockett's hot tub...assuming all of these things occurred at the exact same time.
Thursday was a homecoming for the man nicknamed “The Nature Boy.” The 61-year-old professional wrestling legend was the main attraction at the Rumble at the Garden, a Heavy on Wrestling event that attracted about 325 fans at Grandma’s Sports Garden in Duluth.
“When you’re from Minnesota, you can’t help but love Minnesota. It’s always nice to come back,” Flair said. “I came up here a lot, so I had a good time. I like it up here. It’s a beautiful town. I hate to see the economy struggle like it has, but just driving around today (provided) a lot of fond memories.”
Flair, who ended a brief retirement in 2009 to come back to the ring, didn’t compete Thursday. The 16-time world champion signed autographs and posed for pictures with fans for two hours and cut an in-ring promo at the start of the show.
Way to drop the ball in building awareness of this colossal and triumphant homecoming Duluth Chamber of Commerce. I'm talking to you, Linda Kratt. If Good Ol' JR ever gets word of yr extravaganza promoting shortcomings, I suspect he will shake his head in disdain (assuming it's not already shaking as a result of the Bell's Palsy) and curse you for being nothing more than a "damn Jezebel"...in between closing another lucrative barbecue sauce distribution deal.
And rightfully so.
But back to the issue at hand: During Flair's day in Duluth he took the time to sit down for an interview with a fan boy writer at the Duluth Tribune. Flair talked about how the WWE decided to retire Ric Flair and now that he has come out of retirement with the well oiled machine that is TNA!, he has no desire to ever stop rasslin' or walk away from the business again (I call that the "Keeps Pulling Me Back In" effect).
Ever. Never. Ever. Again.
Money Quote: "I'll just crumble and they will sweep me into a waste basket and I'll be gone!"
Unfortunately (or should that be fortunately) for Flair but fortunately (or should that be unfortunately) for all of us, this is not likely to occur in a Total Nonstop Action ring within the expansive and draped in neon confines of Universal Studios, Orlando FL, for TNA! is unlikely to be in operation when Flair's body spontaneously turns into a pile of possibly snortable dust.
This broken down egomaniac and his underlings will see to it.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Pop quiz time:
What do you get when you cross the chiseled good looks and homosexual tendencies of The American Males with the prodigious talent and natural charisma of Jefferson Starship?
Think about it...Think about it.
I'll give you a hint: Look at these men and think about it.
Ring a bell? No?
Oh, come on.
It's The American Starship. That's right. THE American Starship! Eagle!! Coyote!!! THE AMERICAN STARSHIP!!!!
In this installment of The American Starship's rocket ship ride to Mid Atlantic territory irrelevance and Arabian Facebuster reverence, we find the shirt ripping and tandem offensive maneuver delivering beefcakes taking on pasty and hapless schlubs Joel Deaton (who later donned a mask and full on body suit and became a Thunderfoot) and Doug Vines. Foreshadowing (or if you prefer, in tribute to) the tenor of David Crockett's often hyperbolic, occasionally wildly inaccurate, but always doting play by play analysis, The American Starship fittingly storm the ring to Prince's "Let's Go Crazy."
Alternate titles for this post include: (1) The American Starship is What's Behind That Smoke; (2) The American Starship: Giants In the Wrestling World; (3) The American Starship: What R Their Opponents Gonna Do!?!?; (4) These Guys, They R Huge!!; and (once again) (5) The American Starship: Fantastic!
Bonus footage of David Crockett interrogating Boogie Woogie Man Jam '84 saboteur Paul Jones over a mistimed cane shot that struck his masked Assassin follows.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Since the dawn of time, man has yearned to transform his arch nemesis into a BALD HEADED GEEK.
Samson lost is strength, eyesight, and freedom after having his locks snipped off by a servant of that damn jezebel Delilah.
Of even greater import in terms of Christian iconography and allegorical representation, Jimmy "The Boogie Woogie" Man had his facial hair trimmed by The Assassins and then later by Shaska Whatley, eventually culminating in Boogie's head being shaved completely bald after losing a match against their manager Paul Jones. However, The Boogie Woogie Man eventually got his revenge, cutting off Paul Jones' close cropped hair that was styled in a fashion akin to Adolph Hitler circa his invasion of Poland and persecution of the Jews and other so-called undesirables.
I can't fathom the symbolism or meaning in this tale of protracted grievance and undercard distraction either.
Vince McMahon suffered the indignity and agony of cue ballness after losing a match by proxy against Donald Trump.
Adrian Adonis had his locks clippered after his WrestleMania III defeat at the hands of Rowdy Roddy Piper by Hogan succubus Brutus Beefcake...Gino Hernandez and Chris Adams collectively lost their hair to the Von Erichs...and who could forget the shearing of Kurt Angle at the hands Edge and his SPEAR SPEAR SPEAR.
My God, the preceding paragraphs read like a who's who of the best, brightest, and baldest in the history of mankind.
The latest causality/addition to this illustrious list: CM Punk who lost the hair on his head -- but thankfully not the hair on his chest or face -- to that butterscotch midget and habitual wellness policy violator Rey Mysterio, Jr. whose last couple of years of just going through the motions, wrestling the exact same predictable, offensively limited match, and elevating/giving a rub to by my count ZERO up n' coming superstars, has made him a pariah and public enemy number two here at Arabian Facebuster.
Back to Paul Jones' Army in general and Shaska Whatley in particular. We of course all remember that plodding, dull, agonizingly drawn out hair vs. hair match on that Great American Bash 1986 tape between The Boogie Woogie Man Jimmy Valiant and Shaska Whatley, culminating in the de-'froing and humiliation of Shaska. But what is often forgotten are the goofy promos leading up to and in the aftermath of their matchup.
The clip above features 3/4 of Paul Jones and his Army circa July 1986 (The Barbarian must have taken the day off) cutting a rather unhinged and unfocused promo on the elusively full-headed Jimmy Valiant and threatening to unleash a reign of shears and scissors related terror on the jobbers of middle America.
Yes that's goofy face maker, eventual thorn in Baron Von Raschke's side, and Larry Nelson frightener and confuser Teijo Khan in the background...making goofy faces and no doubt frightening and confusing Larry Nelson as Larry watched this clip from the comfort of his Barcalounger. Piss drunk. With a sugar bowl filled to the brim with cocaine on his coffee table...
...for medicinal purposes and usage, of course.
Hulk Hogan is suing Post Cereals, the maker of Cocoa Pebbles cereal, after they allegedly used his likeness in a commercial.
In the “Cocoa Smashdown” commercial, a cartoon character resembling Hogan wrestles Fred and Barney (of the Flintstones cartoon) but then gets smashed by baby Bamm-Bamm.
According to the federal lawsuit, Hulk “is shown humiliated and cracked into pieces with broken teeth, with the closing banner, ‘Little Pieces…BIG TASTE!’” He also claims that he has been harmed by “the unauthorized and degrading depictions in the Cocoa Smashdown advertisements.”
The lawsuit says Post Foods never sought or received Hogan’s permission to use his likeness and ignored Hogan’s requests to discontinue the ads.
Yes, yes dear Hulkster, it truly degrades and defames your other-wise pristine and carefully manicured public image to get "humiliated and cracked into pieces" by a prehistoric cartoon baby.
Yabba- Dabba- Doo indeed!
Monday, May 24, 2010
The Orlando Sentinel is reporting that TNA wrestler Scott Hall was recently arrested on charges of disorderly intoxication and resisting arrest following a disturbance at a bar in Seminole County, FL. Hall is currently one-half of the TNA World Tag Champions along with Kevin Nash.It turns out The Hitching Post has its very own website. What a shithole...I am referring of course to the bar -- it's a freaking converted rambler motel with cactus and window n' door frescoes -- as well as its ramshackle virtual home. I STRONGLY SUGGEST you head over there at once and spend the next 2+ hours of yr life checking out the various pages, from the live web cam (how awesome would it have been to be peeping in at approximately 12:40AM central daylight time this past Saturday night/Sunday morning), to the photo gallery of oh so naughty line dancin', stripper pole ridin' artificially enhanced whiskey tango hot messes, to the culinary ambitious menu, to the page devoted to corn holing.
The incident occurred on May 14 at the Hitching Post Bar in Chuluota near where Hall lives. Police were called to the location around 1:43AM that morning on a disturbance complaint. The deputy that arrived saw the 51-year-old Hall yelling and cursing at the bartender and others. He appeared intoxicated and slurred his speech.
The deputy told Hall he was being arrested but he refused. "Scott refused this directive and instead, thrust out his chest, walking closer to me, stating, 'I ain't going down for this [expletive deleted],' " according to the police report. "This is [expletive deleted]. You know it's [expletive deleted]."
Hall continued to refuse arrest and cursed at the deputy before being handcuffed and was placed in a patrol car.
The bartender informed the deputy that Hall had been drinking heavily and began arguing with others in the bar. At one point, he pushed a patron and began calling the female bartender names. The bartender then lined up a ride home for Hall but he punched out one of the windows of the car and pushed two other females.
Hall was driven to the Seminole jail and was issued a trespass warning. He was also told to never return to that bar. According to the report, he also has several arrests on his record in Orange County, FL, mostly for criminal mischief and alcohol-related arrests.
There is no word yet if TNA Wrestling will discipline Hall over the incident. It's no secret that he has battled problems with alcohol for years which has caused problems for him in both his personal and professional life. He had worked with TNA several years ago but was released in December 2007 after no-showing the Turning Point pay-per-view. He was re-hired by the company on January 4 of this year.
And presumably not the kind that Scott Hall has experienced in the shower room at the county lock up, hardy har har!
In fact, I was so impressed and inspired, I went ahead and left some "Feed Back" for the establishment, copied and cross posted for yr reflection:
Dear Norma's Hitching Post:
WHERE DO YOU GET OFF? Sending washed up superstar, Kevin Nash BFF, and non-recovering addict Scott Hall into a state of belligerence with yr 2 for 1 domestic beer specials, killer buffalo wings, and cornhole games?!?
WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?
By now, you may have guessed I'm speaking ironically and have nothing but the highest praise for your establishment's commitment to provoking and antagonizing Scott Hall into prosecutable misconduct, thereby keeping him locked away from productive and semi non-productive society and off my TV for the foreseeable future.
I also want to commend you for posting all of those pictures of scantily clad and horny drunk chicks on your web site.
Norma's Hitching Post, DO NOT CHANGE A THING.
Lead Investigator and Senior Correspondent, Arabian Facebuster Sexy Action News Team
Friday, May 21, 2010
It's time for another installment of "Why We Watch...", Arabian Facebuster's tribute to the very best workers, matches, angles, and promotions professional wrestling has to offer. Next week, I promise we'll return to our regularly scheduled ripping of Hulk Hogan for his ongoing delusions of grandeur, floundering offspring, and cancerous skin; Rocky Mountain Thunder for his gunny sack and complete lack of wrestling acumen; David Crockett for losing his shit anytime he is in the presence of babyface beefacke grapplers like Magnum T.A. and The American Starship; Larry Nelson for ripping rail after fat rail of the finest powder prior to introducing plucky upstarts like "Jammin'" Mitch Snow, consummate professionals like Rocky Mountain Thunder and Brandi Mae, and sinister and imposing tag team combinations such as Teijo Khan and Soldat Ustinov to a Showboat Sports Pavilion audience lackluster in interest and dwindling in numbers; Total Nonstop Action! for resorting to hiring Hulk Hogan and his minions in an attempt to revitalize their brand and being incapable to putting together a logically sound, seriously presented, and consistently compelling wrestling product over the past 5+ years; Jimmy "The Boogie Woogie Man" Valiant's insatiable appetite for hookers and limos; and Buck Rock and/or Roll Zumhofe's futile attempt to relive his grappling glory days -- which weren't that glorious anyways -- in the Upper Midwest's finest backwoods dive bars, abandoned corn fields, and poorly attended county fairs.
Through this recurring bit, over the past three years, we've highlighted and recognized a number of greats, including the likes of Flair, Hansen, Murdoch, Abdullah, Blanchard, Hernandez, Bull Fernandez, DiBiase, Rose, Jim Cornette's Midnight Express, and The Fabulous Freebirds. Curiously, those grapplers that we have lauded have been disproportionately of the heel persuasion. It's not as if these folks never played babyface, but they made their mark as a bad guy more so than as a good guy. Looking back through da "Why We Watch..." archives, only Magnum T.A., Ricky Steamboat, and arguably Bruiser Brody are the honorees inducted as a result of their fan favorite credentials.
Time to rectify that discrepancy.
At a later date.
For today we're recognizing the fireball throwing, wife stealing and conglomerate forming, stuck pig bleeding, and criminal vehicular operating exploits the late, great chicken shit heel prototype "Hot Stuff" Eddie Gilbert.
Growing up, I was fortunate to watch Gilbert flex his consummate rule breaking yapper in a number of promotions. Bill Watts' Universal Wrestling Federation, Jim Crockett's (and later Ted Turner's) National Wrestling Alliance, Memphis (in both its CWA and USWA/post-merger with World Class incarnations), Continental and Global come to mind immediately and fondly. Beyond that, Eddie spent time with Smoky Mountain, Eastern (later Extreme) Championship Wrestling, the World Wide Wrestling Federation back in his formative years, and no doubt had a cup of coffee with another half-dozen or so other territories throughout his near 20 year career.
In particular, Gilbert made his mark (a) provoking and incensing crowds with his outrageous promos; (b) booking that was raw, violent, and realistic (often blurring/crossing the lines between the wrestlers and the fans in the audience), an innovative, fan fervor and outrage inducing style rooted in "southern territory" traditions and conventions and a style that influenced and was very much emulated/borrowed from by Paul Heyman and ECW (I know Gilbert and Heyman worked closely together in Memphis and in Alabama/Continental early on in Paul's career); and (c) employing seemingly every heel tactic and shortcut at his disposal to pick up a win or gain the upper hand in a feud, whether it be sneak attacks, 3 or 4 on 1 gang attacks, fire balls, powder, and other assorted foreign objects.
I have uploaded two clips to further illustrate the greatness that was Eddie Gilbert. The first is a brief montage set to "Dirty Deeds" that chronicles his dastardly exploits. Think of as Eddie Gilbert 101 and a supposition to point C above.
The second You Too is of one of Gilbert's most famous angles as a booker and performer that occurred during his tenure in the Continental territory in the spring and summer of 1988. My apologies for the rather grainy and blurry nature but this is the only "copy" currently available on the interwebs.
For contextual purposes, I have pasted a blurb from a Gilbert bio/tribute (I would highly recommend reading the entire thing) and bolded the passage summarizing the action in question.
Gilbert was the lead heel for the group and much of the best stuff the CWF produced revolved around his own antics (Although to be fair Gilbert was unlike many bookers who pushed only themselves to the exclusion of other talented performers, Gilbert gave healthy pushes to many in the CWF. Seemingly everyone in the CWF had some sort of storyline while Gilbert was booker.). Some of Gilbert's exploits include his attack on Willie B. Hert's (aka Shaska Whatley!!! -Malibu) teenage son. Gilbert also attacked longtime area star Burrhead Jones, who was retired at the time, and mauled him. Gilbert and Dangerously attacked a photographer. Eddie also threw fire at Austin Idol. Gilbert even took a challenge from the audience to anyone who thought they could defeat him in the ring. (Eddie called this the $50,000 Golden Challenge. The angle was an oft-used tactic in the territories over the years and also an angle very reminiscent of the A.T. shows Eddie's grandfather worked.) After being insulted by Dangerously and Gilbert, Eddie destroyed the hapless victim (who in reality was Eddie's longtime friend, John Gilliam).Enjoy the shrieking commentary stylings of Hot Stuff's wife Missy Hyatt and monotone drawl of some chumbolone called Charlie Platt with an interlude of Paul E. bombast. Oh, and that Chick Donovan for the non pint o' whiskey and pack o' Marlboro Red's a day set who shows up to confront Gilbert is southern territory mainstay "The Universal Heartthrob" Austin Idol.
Enjoy Eddie Gilbert and all of his pro wrestling finery.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Font color selected to match Hogan's skin tone:
Terry "Hulk Hogan" Bollea, 56, had a heart scare earlier this week according to TMZ.com
The web site reported this morning that Hogan was getting checked up in preparation for another back operation, and discovered a problem with his EKG. He was sent to a specialist, but after more extensive testing on his heart, Hogan was determined to be free of heart problems. The story noted that, understandably so, Hogan was worried for a few days.
My reaction to this blurb is decidedly mixed. On the one hand, the Hulkster has finally albeit fleetingly approached death's door. That's encouraging! On the other, it means Rev von Fury has emerged as the front runner in the Arabian Facebuster Hogan Family Death Pool, thereby putting him in position to take receipt and ownership of my mesh Schmidt's Beer hat. That's disappointing...
...for I have grown fond of that hat.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
What a week its been for yrs truly Malibu Sands, and by extension da Facebuster! First, I discover that the clip of Scott Hall prodding a quiescent gator has made its triumphant return to YouToo. Next, I come to find that there is the possibility of a Fourth and 1/2 Annual AFSC&FC occuring this summer in northern Idaho...under the pretense of a poorly attended Tea Party Convention so as not to draw unwanted attention of the locals on our affable, tolerant, non-reactionary, and thus most certainty unpatriotic doings and views. Then, I learn that Bu$ted Paper has established an outpost and presence in the Twin Cities metropolitan area! The topper: A great big steaming pile of American Starship.
How could things get any better? Five words.
Buck Zumhofe. In concert. Again.
The footage in question emanates from The Sportsman's Lodge Bar and Grill in Birchwood, Sconnie (not to be confused with The Sportsmen's Lodge and Family Resort in Hayward, Sconnie) circa 2006 and features an unkempt albeit by no means malnourished or under served Rock and/or Roller bellowing out a barely decipherable and-- for any and all purposes not directly pertaining to Arabian Facebuster -- unlistenable cover of "Blue Suede Shoes" along with a raucous Northwoods musical troupe cleverly dubbed Tipsy McStagger.
Unfortunately, much like the Rock and/or Roller's skin, this YouToo footage is kind of grainy. And the sound quality is kind of poor. Not unlike Buck's in-ring capabilities and current financial situation. ZING!
Enjoy this singular live performance. And as for the subsequent pain, dizziness, and loss of equilibrium and you are experiencing, that's from your ruptured ear drums. Seek professional medical attention immediately.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Back in 1984, a very green Waylon Mercy aka Dan Spivey (before he was "Dangerous") was teamed up with a very green Razor Ramon aka Scott Hall (before he was "Big" and doing the ol' Wrestle Rock Rumble) to form a very green tag team combination branded The American Starship. To quote the catatonic David Crockett, "and what a rocket...what a ship they are!!!"
This footage is of the team's debut on the NWA's syndicated World Wide Wrestling program circa 1984. Spivey was called Eagle while Hall was known as Coyote. Their opponents, a couple of jobbers that they dismantle with ease. But the real star of this clip is Crockett, whose commentary is so vociferous, hysterical, and high pitched bordering on squealing with exhilaration that it makes this footage worthy of top tier upload status in the Facebuster's illustrious and belligerently intoxicated 4 year history.
Crockett works himself into quite a lather before, during, and even after the match. But his verbal orgasm at the 1:02 mark when Eagle and Coyote rip off their matching tight black shirts and reveal their strapping, chiseled physiques perfectly captures all of his hyperbolic, feral, frenzied, homoerotic commentating glory.
Facebuster Nation, I implore you not to play a drinking game whereupon you are forced to take a swig of Riunite, Camo Black Ice, and/or Surly Furious anytime David utters "The American Starship" or curiously pronounces "Coyote" unless you want to spend the rest of yr evening in a near blacked out stupor at Tony Jaros firing back Greenie's (as a symbolic gesture to Spivey and Hall's lumbering, rather plodding, and inexperienced nature) at a torrid pace and propositioning cabin fatties to engage in acts of "chubby copulation" or, assuming that gets kiboshed by her chinless wingwoman, "penile genuflection" at the men's room trough, followed by a impromptu trip to the E.R. via ganked taxi cab in order to get yr stomach pumped.
At least that's what happened to me last night after watching this clip for the first time.
Suggested but ultimately unselected titles for this post include: "The American Starship: Fantastic!", "Wow!!!, Look at the Build on This Guy!!!", "Ooooohhh Watch 'Em!," "Look at These Men and Think: Think About It!," "That's not a Headlock, It's a Power Vice", and "The American Starship: The Very Best in Professional Wrestling."
Back in that magical summer of 2008 -- pre-2nd Annual AFSC&FC and post-fulfillment of my six plus weeks of recapping Mike Adamle's tenure of idiocy during ECW on Sci-Fi's tenure of idiocy -- Arabian Facebuster introduced its Facebuster Nation, all six of you, to Brandi Mae: lady friend of Rocky Mountain Thunder, abysmal worker formerly known as the Farmer's Daughter in Rev. von Fury's beloved GLOW promotion, and unlearned hillbilly trash embodiment who made a certain barefooted, gunny sack carrying, spot botching phenomenon's two month or so reign of jobber terror in the AWA feel like Bruno Sanmartino's near eight year stranglehold on the WWF Title by comparison...
...or if you prefer, replace my Bruno equivalency with "the duration of time between the commencement and conclusion of Larry Nelson's most recent drinking binge aka September 8, 1984-present."
Much like Mae's AWA tenure, these two clips are ephemeral and worthless, yet still worth exploring because of: (1) Brandi Mae's uninspiring and unconvincing babyface persona; (2) Brandi Mae's porn star good looks; (3) Closely related, Brandi Mae's proclamation that she "takes on big things" (hey-oh!) in the first video; (4) Lee Marshall's adaptation of the tuxedo contrasted with Brandi Mae's seasonal Canadian version; and (5) Lee Marshall's lecherous interview style and up-close look at his feathered and plushly textured mullet and his right angle haircut (follow the hair from the top of his ear and look where it meets with the hair going down the side of his forehead).
Trust me, I pressed my protractor against the monitor and measured it myself.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
This week's featured foto features the original Anderson tandem of Lars and Gene, circa 1967/1968, dropping the helpless and hapless George Becker's stomach down across their knees.
Thursday, May 06, 2010
Here is the problem - I am in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and I can't seem to find a video store from which to rent or purchase the Hulkster's critically acclaimed performance in 'Three Ninjas 4 - High Noon At Mega Mountain'. Upon arrival in Singapore I will find and watch said movie, as we all know the Hulkster's worldwide popularity makes it easier to find a copy of Three Ninjas 4 than a Big Mac in three out of four exotic countries.
Anyhow, as I was perusing the movie locker on board ship, I found a rare copy of the classic Joanie Laurer/Anna Nicole Smith film 'Illegal Aliens'. I will review that movie now as an appetizer to the grand finale aforementioned.
To say that Illegal Aliens is campy is to do a disservice to the term campy. It is so bad that it is good, but not that good, in fact it actually (much like our parabolic universe) come full circle to utter crap. The premise iof the movie is that three aliens come to earth to protect it from 'bad' aliens even thought thier home planet is dying because their sun is running out of energy. The three 'good' aliens are Anna Nicole, a decent actress who should have been in a better movie, and a hot (I use the term lightly here) latina. The have a cover as stuntwomen in Hollywood and Anna Nicole is as manic as in her TV show - which is oddly enough all the three watch on TV at their apartment. A quick view of the special features revealed that Anna was bankrolling this turdnugget, hence she acts like herself as 'comic relief' in a bad comedy.
Back to the story. Chyna shows up as the 'bad' alien, trying to take over the world by building some gravitational device to pull the moon into the earth. The three 'Illegal Aliens' thwart her repeatedly, and eventually defeat her.
There are several scenes which bear mention, however, one in particular where Anna sits on a vibrator, picks it up and then proceeds to pretend it is a toothbrush, a sword, a penis, a backscratcher, a magic wand, and some other unidentifiable motions. Surreal. Chyna actually is the best actress in this movie, and although the girl's outfits get skimpier and skimpier as the movie goes on, it is not very entertaining. They also have a 'charlie' (as in Charlie's Angels) figure, which they actually call charlie by 'accident'. ha ha. Throw in a red 69 Camaro, a hunky nerd scientist, and several incompetent dopey mafioso henchmen and you have it.
Oh, and Anna Nicole turns into a car, bus and helicopter too. Really.
Wednesday, May 05, 2010
I saw this clip via Scott Keith's site -- which makes Arabian Facebuster look like the rasslin' blog equivalent of acid washed jean jackets adorned with sequins, airbrushing, and patches of intimidatingly lettered logos of butt rock bands by comparison -- and thought that da Facebuster Nation might find this hapless attempt to put on a pro wrestling match that does not utterly expose and shame the business a real hoot.
The vortex of suck and inexactitude in question is Tom Magee, sort of a Rocky Mountain Thunder for the curly mullet-ripped physique-horse faced set. Think Lex Luger minus a medicine cabinet of hair straightening products and performance enhancing drugs. Actually, that's not really fair to The Total Package (?, The Total Package!), for Magee's tendencies and mannerisms are an amalgamation of oh so much more that is terrible and unfortunate about professional wrestling. He throws punches with all of the conviction and authenticity of Rob Van Dam. He delivers kicks like Yoshihiro Tajiri if a jelly fish had stung both of The Buzzsaw's legs. He flies through the air like the second coming of Greg Gagne. His bump taking makes Baron Von Raschke compare favorably to Shawn Michaels. He shares RMT's uncanny ability to botch even the most basic of maneuvers and be unable to grasp the simplest of wrestling concepts. And upon further reflection, he resembles Chuck Palumbo or a buffer version of World Class Championship Wrestling midcarder Steve Simpson more so than the T.P.
Why Ric Flair would blading his forehead into quite the gusher if he saw MaGee fire off those flaccid chops in the corner. On second thought, he'd probably just sit in his wheelchair and scratch himself off a few lotto tickets. Wooo!
Why the Ted Turner era NWA didn't snap Magee to be the 3rd member of the Dynamic Dudes is beyond this writer's comprehension.
This clip emanates from All Japan Wrestling, April 1988. Try to enjoy this abyssal display of professional wrestling craftsmanship.