Friday Night Videos (CrockettMania Edition)

It's been quite a month of rasslin' action here at Arabian Facebuster, thanks to the inspired and incendiary combination of cheap beer, cabin fatties, more cheap beer, vomit, and Friday Night Videos. We've witnessed The Mulkey Bros get roughed up in both tag team and singles action. We've admired Bruiser Brody's unwavering commitment to batter opponents, even when confronted by a hotheaded and senile old man with criminal intent on the brain and his revenge minded and pallid skinned son. We've marked out at some vintage National Wrestling Alliance Great American Bash '87 era footage. And we've marveled at Stan Hansen's propensity for brutality and thuggery and his tag team partners' inclination towards familiarity and laziness.

It's time to bring Friday Night Videos to a close with a tag team battle that originally aired on NWA Worldwide Wrestling in the Fall of 1985 pitting Ricky Morton and Robert Gibson of The Rock and/or Roll Express against Mike Davis and Tommy Lane of The Rock and/or Roll RPM's to determine which team truly embodies the spirit of rock and/or roll!!! Judging by the rock and/or rollishness of their entrances -- The Express coming into the arena to a synth pop with country twang sensibilities tune and the high pitched squeals and adulations of the teenie boppers in attendance, The RPM's presumably walking out to no music and little fanfare -- I am expecting a time limit draw.

While the match itself is brief albeit a totally solid example of 1980s tag team wrestling (when top tier tag team combinations like The Rock and Roll Express actually wrestled/performed as a synchronized, cohesive unit), David Crockett's in full-effect frenzied, cliche ridden, and dotting play-by-play stylings make this clip rise to a status worthy of showcase and appreciation. While not quite the caliber of a chance encounter with The American Starship in terms of David's inability to moderate the volume or inflection of his own voice...or for that matter the erectness of his own penis...this clip does feature some choice Crockettisms.

So I encourage you to follow David's feral and impetuous directive to WATCH 'EM! David would undoubtedly describe yr cooperation as a GOOD MOVE!!! GOOD MOVE!!!

Mistified

(Fig 1: Tajiri gives Nelson Frazier Jr his comeuppance for not acquiescing to our Big Gay Viscera character demands).

What with the departure of our trustworthy, diligent, and sexually ambiguous intern Chip, yrs truly Malibu Sands has does a piss poor job in keeping up with the ol' Facebuster mailbag. Well I pledge that's gonna change starting RIGHT NOW. Between today and the self-imposed demise of Arabian Facebuster at the end of this year, I pledge to answer 1...no, make that 2...pieces of fan mail.

Rest assured, I am making this intellectually demanding and wildly time consuming gesture out of appreciation and loyalty to our dear readership and correspondents.

So without further ado, let's go the gunny mail sack...

Demolitions Matt and Pat write:

Mr. Sands: What are your favorite illegal, foreign objects in professional wrestling?

What a great question Demolitions Matt and Pat; thanks for asking it! In descending order, here are my top 10 favorite blinding, incapacitating, and/or unconsciousness inducing professional rasslin' foreign objects and object based attacks...

10.Loaded Black Glove
9. Arm Cast
8. Ring Bell (particularly when it is employed by a certain "Macho Man" Randy Savage to crush the larynx of one Ricky "The Dragon"Steamboat)
7. Tennis Racket
6. White Powder (preferably of the YaYo variety)
5. Steel Chair
4. Plastic Shopping Bag
3. Automobile! (preferably those which are traveling at a high rate of speed in a Memphis TV studio parking lot).
2. Fireball!!

and my #1 favorite foreign object is...

...

...Green Mist!!!

And of those deliverers of that mysterious and practically hypnotic Asian mist, my favorites would have to be "The Japanese Buzzsaw" Yoshihiro Tajiri and, to a lesser extent, The Great Kabuki and Killer Khan (particularly for his blinding of that egomaniac Hulk Hogan).

My absolute favorite though is The Great Muta.

Embedded below for yr consideration and hopefully yr approval and sense of contentment is a 200 second, career spanning tribute to Muta's multicolored toxic spewing prowess and versatility.

Of the dozens upon dozens of mistings in this montage, for me the sequence with Muta standing on a chair so he could spray the green mist in the eyes of worthless tall drink of water El Gigante (aka Giant Gonzalez) at about the 50 second mark of this clip provides the most delight.



Enjoy.

DO NOT Mess With This Man...

...otherwise, prepare to be in a WORLD OF HURT, courtesy of the IPW's answer to Hulk Hogan, Kerry Von Erich, Bruno Sanmartino, Dusty Rhodes, Magnum T.A., Jerry Lawler, and The Road Warriors all rolled into one compact, dirty 'stached package...TONY THE SPIDER.

Capiche!?

Update: Dwayne Wayne called. He wants his shades returned at once.

Oh, Sweet Lord Jesus!!!

Get yr Hogan Family Death Pool scorecards out, Facebuster Nation, for the two front runners in our Hogan Family Death Pool sweepstakes -- Linda "Ginormous Droopy Breasts" Hogan and her 21 year old sperm donor Charlie Hill -- are engaged...to be married!!!

Unlike our slacker Facebuster Sexy Action News Team, the PopEater Sexy Action News Team has got this story covered:

Hulk Hogan's former wife of two and a half decades, Linda Hogan, 50, is engaged to 21-year-old boyfriend Charlie Hill.

As Limelife points out -- in a post littered with the term "boy-toy" -- Charlie will be stepfather to Brooke Hogan, who is one year his elder. "Linda's hubby-to-be was [her son] Nick's friend before this whole relationship started. They started dating when Charlie was only 19," the blog writes. The news broke courtesy of The National Enquirer.

The two will reportedly wed next summer, aboard Linda's new yacht, named 'Alimoney' [sic].
Linda's divorce from her wrestler husband was finalized in 2009. While there's no word from the Hulkster on the couple's marriage plans, it's impossible to forget his comments to Rolling Stone

Brooke Hogan told E! satellite radio in 2008 that she was "totally freaked out" by her mother's new romance. "I personally don't like it at all or condone it, but she's my mom, so I have to show her support. I went to school with him. He was a grade under me. Me and Nick know him well."

Hulk Hogan's new leading lady, Jennifer McDaniel, is, according to some, a dead-ringer for his daughter Brooke. "Keeping the split classy, both Linda and the Hulk moved on quickly and dated wildly younger people, with Hulk getting engaged to a 36-year-old who, proving he has a type, is of course platinum blond," writes Babble. Hulk proposed to McDaniel in late 2009.

"My marriage to Linda was very toxic and very negative," Hulk told FOX News after his engagement. "Jennifer is just the opposite, she doesn't drink or get high on drugs. She doesn't watch anything negative like the news or TMZ. She doesn't read the newspaper. She always walks in the spirit of Christ, she never deviates. I can really see myself marrying this woman." last year: "You live half a mile from the 20,000-square-foot home you can't go to anymore, you're driving through downtown Clearwater [Florida] and see a 19-year-old boy driving your Escalade, and you know that a 19-year-old boy is sleeping in your bed, with your wife ... I totally understand O.J. I could have turned everything into a crime scene like O.J., cutting everybody's throat."

I am having a hard time wrapping my brain around the copious quantities of booze and prescription drugs that these fine upstanding lovebirds will surely consume to celebrate and consummate their sham love between now and the wedding date. Apollo Spas and Ms. Bissoux, I hope you are both busy preparing yr respective Death Pool victory speeches.

Rocky Mountain Thunder: Bigger Than Even He Thought He Was

Facebuster Nation: With a nod and chest bump to '80s schlock rockers Europe, it's the FINAL COUNTDOWN with regard to rasslin' matches involving Rocky Mountain Thunder...unless Rocky winds up making a triumphant return to professional rasslin' via TNA! as part of an invasion angle featuring the washed up has beens and never weres of the American Wrestling Association (like you wouldn't mark out at the site of Rocky kicking the crap out of Kevin Nash, Greg Gagne drop kicking Kurt Angle right in the mush, Jamin' Brian Kendrick taking on his mentor Shawn/Sean Michaels JAMIN' MAN MITCH SNOW, Scott Hall fighting himself, Larry Nelson barfing up about 16 cocktails and/or snorting cocaine on the lap of Mike Tenay, and the TNA roster recording an even catchier version of the Wrestle Rock Rumble).

That's right there are only two clips left in the Rocky Mountain Thunder vs. the either unsuspecting or masochistic jobbers of the AWA series that riveted the Showboat Sports Pavilion and kept the Las Vegas EMT's busy during the Spring and early Summer of 1988.



Make that one.

Rocky's opponent here is a fellow by the name of Hunter Thompson, an apropos moniker for a sad sack Las Vegas jobber. While the Gonzo Journalism popularized by Thompson (the author, not the ham 'n' egger) privileges style, panache, and immersion in the experience over accuracy, polish, and pragmatism, Rocky Mountain Thunder is wholly incapable of applying any of these concepts to his craft. See, for example, the monkey flip at the 1 minute 52 second mark.

Runner-up titles for this post include: (1) Rocky Mountain Thunder -- What a Delightful Man That Man Is -- Rocky Mountain Thunder; (2) Lee Marshall: Knows What (Hairy) Larry and The Graphic Said; (3) Rocky Mountain Thunder, Delightful Man? He Is Every Bit of That; (4) Here Comes Rocky Mountain Thunder: Look Out!!!; (5) Rocky Mountain Thunder: Candidate for the Championship of the World; and (6) I Don't Know What the Point of That Was.

Neither do we Rod Trongard.

Neither do we.

Yr Old Skool Arena of the Week

The Omni, Atlanta GA...site of several Starrcade's in the 1980s and countless Georgia Championship Wrestling and NWA house shows.

Another shot of this excess in 1970s architecture can be gleamed here.

Friday Night Videos (Jobber Dismantlement Edition)

Friday Night Videos, in conjunction with the Arabian Facebuster Sexy Action News Team, via partnership with Tony Jaro's River Garden Incorporated, with the expressed written consent of the Cabin Fatties in Training Society (C-FITS) is proud to present some tag team action of the enhancement talent abuse variety. The abusers -- the rather odd pairing of Stan "The Lariet" Hansen and Sid Vicious. The abused -- common named jobbers Scott Allen (aka Guy with Name on Tights Guy) and Jeff Anderson (aka Guy without Name of Tights Guy). The game plan -- For Hansen, to intimidate, pummel, injure, humiliate, and stretcher out both opponents with an entire pouch of chewing tobacco tucked laxly in his left cheek, thereby sending a threatening message to upcoming opponents Sting and Lex Luger. For Vicious, to have Hansen do all the heavy lifting before tagging in, doing the only move he is capable of executing effectively (the Power Bomb), picking up the pinfall, and once again letting Hansen take the lead in the delightful post-match beat down.

Jim Ross and Paul E. Dangerously handle the commentating duties. Bonus El Gigante menacing hand motion and indecipherable utterance for those that make it through to the clip's conclusion.

A couple of brief follow-up clips for yr consideration, C-FITS approved, are linked below.

First, a tremendous follow up interview with Stan Hansen conducted by a slender and non dirtball attired Paul E. here.

Secondly, a not quite as tremendous but pretty damn entertaining assault by Sid and his Horsemen cohorts Barry Windham and Arn Anderson that features Double A, in O.R. scrubs and a stethoscope draped around his neck, demonstrating his malicious bedside manner on a hapless jobber here.

Motley Cruz Gets Verbally Bitch Slapped...

...by his adversary and arch nemesis Jumpin' Jeff Farmer who, from what I've been told, doesn't like it when (a) things aren't going his way; and (b) when tables get turned on him the wrong way.



My God, Jumpin' Jeff's stylings, abilities, and creativity on the mic makes Greg Gagne's gift for gab seem like the second coming of Ric Flair. For the announcer/interviewer equivalent of that last statement, replace Jumpin' Jeff with Buddy Lee, Greg Gagne with Larry Nelson, and Ric Flair with Jim Ross.

Think of Jumpin' Jeff as the Rocky Mountain Thunder of promo cutting...

...minus of of course Rocky's trademark gunny sack full of dead hooker appendages.

Harley Race, Bring Back the Bounty!!!

For Ric Flair is pushing me, pushing the Facebuster Nation, and probably pushing you further than we've ever been pushed before. And like you Mr. Race, we don't care who eliminates Flair from professional rasslin' -- Paul Jones and his formidable WHOLE ENTOURAGE OF PEOPLE...Dick Slater...Jack Brisco...um....hmmm....oh, jeez how about....KABUKI even...just as long as (a) it is a living human being, (b) the job gets accomplished in an effective timely fashion, and (c) the death date can be verified and viewed on Flair's tombstone.

So what are you waiting for.

Somebody...anybody...take Harley's damn money already!!!

And I'll throw in an extra $25k of my own money* if you take out this man while yr at it.

*I don't have $25k of my own money.

Yr Old Skool Arena of the Week

Greenville Memorial Auditorium in Greenville, SC, one of the arenas and towns visited by Mid Atlantic Wrestling (Crockett).

Motley Cruz Speaks, We Listen

No, this is not a rib or a parody. It is legit...as far as the antics and escapades of professional rasslin' are concerned.

Thank you You Tube!

Thank you professional rasslin!!

Thank you those no doubt mulleted whiskey tango individuals who thought it was a sensible idea to form IPW!!!

Jeff Farmer, you better watch yr back son.

Friday Night Videos (GAB Edition)

As I'm sure none of you recall, last July Arabian Facebuster proudly presented Great American Bash Fridays, our nostalgic look back at the matches, angles, feuds, personalities, and blood loss that made the National Wrestling Alliance's annual Great American Bash summer tour and pay per view extravaganza during the mid to late 1980s (1985-1989 to be precis...most certainly NOT the subsequent iterations) one of the biggest events in professional rasslin' and the pinnacle of yrs truly Malibu Sands' markishness and fandom.

Much like chocolate and peanut butter, Randy Mulkey and Bill Mulkey, Laverne and Shirley, low level pot dealers and harsh mandatory minimum sentences, Buck Zumhofe and unwanted and gently soiled neck ties, Tony Jaros greenie's and inebriation, Gino Hernandez and cocaine, Ross Perot and James Stockdale, and bacon and everything, Arabian Facebuster has got its own seamless winning combination: Friday Night Videos and Great American Bash Fridays!

That's right: Friday Night Videos and Great American Bash Fridays. Cabin fatties and Jimmy "The Boogie Woogie Man" Valiant. Cheap beer and Shaska Whatley. Drunk driving and Tully Blanchard. Bar fights and Magnum T.A.

Together.

At last.

The result of this fusion: The clip you see here featuring further exploits and developments in the whole Flair vs. The Garvin Bros. quarrel which lead up to the Great American Bash 1987 card in Greensboro that featured Ric Flair defeating "Gorgeous" Jimmy Garvin in a steel cage and winning a dream date with Garvin's valet Precious.

The incidnet in question is of the tag team variety, with Flair and Lex Luger -- with James J. Dillion in their corner -- taking on Jimmy and Ron Garvin -- with Precious in theirs -- in the main event of the NWA's Saturday night flagship program World Championship Wrestling, circa June 1987. While brief in duration, the clip is packed with action : The attempted kidnapping of Precious by J.J. The returning of Precious thanks to the cajoling of "The American Dream" Dusty Rhodes and his Communist wingman Nikita Koloff. The awesome purple trunks white boots rasslin' attire combination of one "Nature Boy" Ric Flair. The jettisoning of ugly, ugly looking referee Scrappy McGowan. Flair's futile efforts to propel himself airborne. The rigid and Nestea plunge bumping techniques of The Total Package. And the unofficial pinning of the NWA Champion's shoulder via the Brainbuster suplex.

Enjoy.

And Now a Word from Jeep Swenson...

Pop quiz time, Arabian Facebuster hot shots.

Jeep Swenson:

(a) Sweats an inordinate amount for a guy standing around, talking about engine lubricants.
(b) Hates sludge build-up and deposits more than you.
(c) Genuinely believes that micro-mercenaries are an actual compound in Engine Magic and solely responsible for revitalizing yr car's engine.
(d) Could break that spunky '80s skank in half with his steroid ravaged pecker if he wanted.
(e) Should have his status as The Official Mercenary of Arabian Facebuster revoked at once.

Vote. Comment. Discuss.

Yr Old Skool Arena of the Week

The Cow Palace, San Francisco CA. Home to Roy Shire's "Big Time Wrestling." Some fabulous reflections on this often forgotten and overlooked territory here and here.

Friday Night Videos (Brodymania Edition)

Facebuster Nation: Hopefully you have the requisite case of canned, domestic cold beer, high speed internet connection, the rosiest cheeked, plumpest stomached and widest bottomed of cabin fatty, freezer full of Mr. P's pizza (assorted varieties), and two sugar bowls -- one filled to the brim with cocaine, the other with prophylactics (assorted varieties) -- in order to enjoy another DOUBLE SHOT of Friday Night Videos...this week featuring a slightly more imposing, sinister, ruthless, rugged, credible, and exceptional professional rasslin' artisan compared to the brothers Mulkey...

...Bruiser Brody.

God damn right.

Clip No. 1 features Brody taking on a jobber by the name of El Exotico who appears to be some kind of Spanish in Puerto Rico's World Wrestling Council promotion, circa 1987/88. Brody's trademark volatility, bellowing, and mangy whiskers are on full display here during his brutalization of this jamon n' huevo-er before, during, and after the bell. Further augmenting the multicultural flare is the fact that the commentary is dubbed in Japanese. Enjoy.




Clip No. 2 is culled from the American Wrestling Association in early 1986 and features a wild post match scrum between Brody, his manager Sheik Adnan Al-Kaissie, bland amateur wrestling background babyface sensation Brad Rheingans, dysfunctional Gagne family patriarch Verne, and his prodigal son Rambo. Brody delivers an absolutely SICK looking boot and pile driver to Greg at the :43 and 1:05 mark, respectively, before daddy bum rushes meanders down to the ring to bail his son and Mr. Rheingans out of quite the jam they have gotten themselves into by summoning the dreaded GAGNE FAMILY TEMPER and unleashing a barrage of fists and meekly delivered chair shots.

Hopefully now you can fully appreciate the hurt that Helmut Guttman endured.

A bonus bland, long winded Greg Gagne babyface promo (is there any other kind, really?) follows.



The legendary Bruiser Brody. Greg Gagne getting his ass kicked then cutting a serious and determined promo in a flesh colored sweater. What's not to love about this clip!?!?

As an aside, I attended this card live and in person at the old Saint Paul Civic Center (where the Xcel Energy Center now rests) with Papa Sands and marked out as only a 10 year old could when the mask was ripped off to reveal King Kong Brody (not that it was particularly difficult to surmise it was Brody based upon the height, size, and crazy beard hair protruding underneath, but gimmeee a break, I was only 10!!!).

Check back next week, hopefully even more inebriated and with an even chunkier cabin fatty draped on yr arm entire body, for another installment of Friday Night Videos!