C'mon now

Aug. 17th, 2013 11:59 am
opera142: (towel)
Dean.
Bad hair.
Black t-shirt.
No vest.
Belted above the navel, dad-jeans.
opera142: (crayons)
The headline of a memo sitting on the copier at work: CARROT AWARENESS.

Besides the obvious, what can that mean? Yes, I am aware of carrots. Should I be more so?



Now for sweet, sweet Punk and his cross-legged promo.

First off, I guess Steph has a new OTPCHATFICLOL rp buddy. YESDRIZELLA. Punk totally respects John Cena the most. Noone in teh back but him. It's just Cena being the best that makes him crazy, baby. The man pain and angst. Can Punk work through his jealousy or will it tear them apart.

I thought I was beyond caring, you know. I mean, I'M THE ONE WHO KEEPS WATCHING ALL THE DAMN TIME. I'm moar loyaler than everyone, Steph. Why must I always sit in this ditch with the rain and the bugs and loneliness. Geez.

Anyway, when Punk wasn't a puppet dancing for Steph and YesD, he was spewing some mighty fine Smark 101. Triple H and Steph rooned wrestling! Vince likes money! JOhnny Ace yells at people! Punk could live like a king in ROH. Colt Cabana is the most awesome thing ever.

(As a serious aside, Vince needs to get over his mortality issues. Vince dying doesn't make for compelling storytelling (see exploding limos, etc); Punk pondering a post-Vince WWE, only terrifies Vince)

Moe's one question during the promo: Why is he wearing a Stone Cold t-shirt?

Me: They're BFFs on Twitter!

I guess I'm too crabby and untrusting, and I know better than to give a damn so I didn't believe it was a shoot. Too scripted, too many of Vince's tics. But, Punk made it fun to watch. The dude can deliver serious cross-legged, pantless snark. And the mike cut-off followed by a black screen was an awesome closer.

Now, will it have a cool follow up?
opera142: (this shit is bananas)
IS THIS EPISODE OF RAW EVER GOING END?

SD

Mar. 18th, 2011 10:06 pm
opera142: (this shit is bananas)
My interest in Smackdown is at an all-time low. Starting the show off with Edge does nothing to resolve this.

Sign: Edge. Rated X Superstar.

Try Rated-R Superstar. Geez. IF ONLY THE CATCHPHRASE RHYMED THEN IT WOULD EASY TO REMEMBER. Also, if you're fan enough to spend the tedious, ink-stained hours necessary to letter a sign, then shouldn't you be fan enough to know the correct wording of the catchphrase. GEEZ.

Luckily, though it's a Brodus Clay match (MOAR NOT HELPING), Alberto Del Rio's butler skulks out to aid and abet most sullenly. The boy has elevated looking askance to an art form. A scowling, untrustworthy art form.

Christian, recognizing that he bares 51%* of my SD interest, rushes out to roll around with Alberto. Cheap Opera heat, but I appreciate the attempt. Teddy hustles out too, to announce a Christian/Aberto con butler match for later, lest I assume they are done for the night, and wander off to play Frontierville.

Kofi and Sheamus are next. I suppose I should blame the malaise, but I do not give a shit. Sheamus should be the villain I feel giddy over disliking. Musclebound, surly, alpha-male, over-pushed, and yet, MEH. Same with Kofi. I should be giddy over his plucky attitude, his sunny personality, his flippy-shit, his beautiful skin. YET MOAR MEH. I blame the writers. Smackdown doesn't have storylines anymore; it has premises. KOFI HAS LOST MATCHES LATELY. WILL HE LOSE MOAR? or SHEAMUS LOST MANY MATCHES WHEN HE USED TO WEAR THAT UGLY FELT CAPE AND PAPER CROWN BUT HE TOOK IT OFF AFTER SOMEONE FINALLY SAID SOMETHING. WILL HE WIN MOAR MATCHES?

Kane needs to get back to his roots. Got a pretty boy bothering you? Kidnap and bondage, pref. in a boiler room. Seriously, they don't come any prettier than Justin Gabriel these days. Pope did it on TNA last night. You one-upped them with Snookie, now do it with Pretty Boys in Peril. Do it.

Cody Rhodes. BORING. Sign: Dash me Cody. That verb doesn't mean what you are trying to imply. YOU HAVE LOST YOUR SIGN PRIVILEGES, WWE UNIVERSE. At least, Trent got some air time.

Kane told Big Show "You complete me.", and for a second, there was a flash of what wrestling could be: silly-fun and clever, creepy on its own terms, a wacky twisted view of the world.

The moment soon passed.

Shawn Michael's new segment This Mullet's Musings drones on and on about Taker and Triple H and Wrestlemania and other boring stuff.

Layla. Hi!

Oooh. Surprise Maryse and Teddy.

Christian in a cage. Standard fare until the end. Christian hugged his way to victory. But it was spoiled by Edge writing POOPY on Alberto's car.






* Christian - 51%
Alberto's Butler - 39%
Jericho's Not Butler and Justin Gabriel - 9%
Will Trent Baretta be on? - 1%
opera142: (this shit is bananas)
WTF Punk? What's with this new ugly Nexus? Diet Batista, Michael McGullifugly. Geez, Punk, Geez. Is it an insecurity thing? Do you have to be the prettiest? I don't get this.

David Otunga, when I plug my ears against the hum of his douchy vibe, is pretty enough. Husky Harris scratches some latent white trash itch that no amount of Creme de la Mer can soothe. But neither inspire long term wigglepants.

Here is what you must do, Punk: Gather J. Gabriel and J. Morrison. Doff clothing. Don towels. Shave those beards. Shower. Play lots of grab ass. Rinse. Lather. Repeat. Apply body oil, daisy chain style post-shower. Wear the tiniest, angriest trunks ever. Smirk as Young Randall glares with burning jealousy.

It's the only way to save the new Nexus.

That hair.

Jan. 10th, 2011 08:42 pm
opera142: (crayons)
Okay, so my dealing with/grieving over M. Hardy's hair will have 3 stages:

1. I will pretend very, very hard that Undertaker has lurid and creepy and overly detailed Bo Derek in Ten fantasies.

2. very, very hard.

3. I'M RICK JAMES, BITCH.

-_____-

Feb. 27th, 2010 10:17 am
opera142: (bleach)
WWE cut Shane Helms, Paul Burchill and Maria. -____-

Maria, I sort of went hot-n-cold on, though she forever endeared herself to me by lifting that soldier above her head. Helms, I've heard, asked for his release so he could go to TNA and tag with Shannon ( I don't even know where to start wanking about that. HELMS NO. My pussbag characterization of you was done for petty, silly reasons. Life doesn't imitate art. Quit it. Jeez)

Burchill breaks my heart. Hunky, awesome moves, British accent, wore eyeliner. YUM.

If WWE needed to cut payroll in these difficult economic times of corporations getting massive tax breaks (of which WWE got something like 8 million dollars), then WWE should remember that their roster includes The Guy Who Looks Like Cena Got a Role in SoulManII, Shad Gaspar and Michelle McCool.
opera142: (this shit is bananas)
Though there's still tomorrow, and this week has fangs.

It's been pretty miserable. Lots of hits to the ego, unexpected ones and wow, they killed me. So I had a good mope on Weds (and I was rewarded with another ego-smackdown). Thursday and Friday, I went on a good deed spree. Delivering food to homebound seniors means lots of sulking time for reflecting in the car while listening to cheesy music.

No grand goals or newfound joy came from the reflecting, but I've sort of made my peace with the problems. Well, not super at peace because I feel like I'm resigning myself to something less than what I want. But, right now less-than-what-I-want is all I got so I have to figure out how to make it work for the short term. I'm disappointed, but I'll move on.

In happier news, I bought a wee Christmas tree. Moe has to go into the office this weekend, so I'm looking forward to more sulking time for reflecting with the lights off, the tree lit up, cheesy christmas songs, a cup of tea and maybe, a pumpkin cookie or two.
opera142: (The Precious)
Today was failure compounding on failure. Trashy failure, no less, as the inciting incident was the realization I forgot to pay my cc bill. I'm too embarrassed to go into the comedy of errors, and now I feel like I fail at life and I'm a big, fat failure turtle.

I am home, and Moe brought pizza. Let the carb-induced circle of despair spin all night.
opera142: (this shit is bananas)
Shawn Michaels is wearing a DX dickie.

Teddy is wearing a milk moustache.

BAW

Oct. 16th, 2009 03:33 pm
opera142: (this shit is bananas)
STAMFORD, CT – Shane McMahon, Executive Vice President of Global Media, announced today he has tendered his resignation effective January 1, 2010.

This was prompted by...

a)yesterday, while stepping out of the shower he thought: hey, wait a second. I'm super rich. I'm working why?

b)Jesus, who re-hired Chris Masters?

c)his pact with Todd Grisham to run away to a cottage on Maine's seacoast. They'll run a small antique/wine shop in a touristy little town, and on off-season weekends they'll go for long bike rides while wearing brightly colored windbreakers. They'll be so happy, co-chairing the town's summer festival; Todd's book club will the be literary highlight of the area (and responsible for double the sales of Glimmer Train, at the nearest B&N); Shane's special blend mulling spices will revive a local orchard (eat local!). Happy, until a secret from Todd's past threatens to ruin everything they've built...

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