That's right, I am once again back to dispense my particular brand of wrestling vigilante justice --non-violent, cowardly, just hide and yell things from a completely safe distance, vigilante justice-- so, brace yourselves, and put on your lobster bibs, because this could get messy.

That being said, I just feel like rambling like an idiot this week, with no direction, and because my brain is overflowing with wrestling related diarrhea, that like the unfortunate vile liquid of the same name, just needs to be purged for the betterment of the asshole. (*Fun Fact: YOU'RE THE ASSHOLE!).

So, if you expected a deep, insightful soliloquy on how the WWE can be turned around, I'm sorry to break this to you, but I'm not your man. But I can be. For the right price. I'm a total whore.

REALITY CHECK!

It's official, I'm hooked on Joe Schmo, and by the mail I received last week, I'm guessing some of you are as well. And by mail I mean both of you. If you read last week's column, and how dare you not, since it's jam-packed with STUFF, some of which is coherent, you'd also know of my disdain for The Mullets; so imagine my surprise when one of my readers, Michael Feeney, emailed me telling me that the youngest Mullet and "Hutch" from my beloved Joe Schmo are one in the same. Fate you are a cruel and harsh mistress. I feel a lot like the guy from the Madame Butterfly movie who finds out that his lover actually has a penis (A fate that only HHH and Sean Waltman can likely relate to.). And although I do feel shocked and betrayed, I shall persevere. This tragedy can only make me stronger. It'd have to. As it is, I  barely move. I think I may be dying!

However, before I get into the Wrestling portion of the evening (I swear this time), I have this totally random question about Crack Whores that I've always been curious about. Being that I'm from just about the whitest suburb in the world, and have never really been subjected to the cold realities of the world; I am curious, do you pay the Whores, then they  buy the crack with the money, or do you give them the crack , and then they service you upon completion of said transaction? This is always something I've been curious about, as the term has always been an ambiguous one to me; and truthfully, I wanted to avoid any humiliating crack whore faux pas if the sudden urge to get it on with drug-addicted prostitute ever arises. Help would be appreciated. And Penicillin. 

Miscellaneous Wrestling Commentary Of Ridiculousness;

-As much as I really enjoy projectile vomiting and security guys having matches, it still wasn't enough to compel me to order last week's TNA. Imagine that.

-How about that Mark Henry, eh?  Dear lord. At this point, I think I'd like to see a Y2J-esque countdown clock going as he wrestles, that, you know, systematically counts down to the end of this seemingly infinite ten year contract he signed. If only to assure myself, that yes, there is indeed an end to this madness. Eventually. But just not for 3 more years. *sniffle*.   

But hey, at least, in his defense, he can tear phone books in half!  That's a feat right there. Just how he then subsequently orders the take-out  from there that in turn maintains his perpetual obesity is a mystery for the ages. Maybe he just gathers berries and cruiserweights and sleeps in a cave for 6 months? I mean, why not? He does kind of look like a bear. And I've watched his matches. You don't move that slow if you're not getting ready for hibernation! And he does tend to disappear for like a half year at a time.  It just makes sense. You can still shoot bears, right? What? I'm trying to find a silver lining here!

-As seen on RAW last week, Teddy Long's declaration of wanting to be President would be an interesting prospect. I don't think it's too farfetched to assume his first order of business would be to paint the White House. I mean, it only seems natural based on his disdain for whitey. Unless it's Rodney Mack. No one has the heart to tell him he's whiter than the Caucasians he's annihilating. Quick, someone ask him to dance, it's the only way to find out for sure!

 As for Teddy's political aspirations, I guess for now he'll have to satisfied with just being President of the Turtle Club. Come on, think about it; little bald head? Big suit? Belee' dat. Dear god. Poor Teddy. I'm not going to say his head is significantly undersized or anything, but he's probably the only guy I know who can wear his wedding ring as a fucking headband.

-Hey, let's talk about OVW! You know, WWE's main training facility! Today's wrestling stars... tomorrow! Or something. Although, it's not that bad. I think that one kid they just brought up has a HUGE future. You know who I'm talking about ?....You don't? ..You know, the one with the crew cut?...and the unmarketable last name? No? Come on!... You know, the one who is real tall and uses a lot of spinebusters and dropkicks? You still don't know? Well, I'm not going to tell you then. Just look for that guy. EVERYWHERE. He's going places. All of them.

-While we're on the subject of OVW alumni, wasn't it nice how HHH *put over* the young trio of Maven, Garrison Cade & Mark Jindrak last week... by completely annihilating them?  What that whole match did to really advance anyone, Trips included, is beyond me. It did make me a believer though. A belief in that I definitely never want to see Jindrak wrestle again.  But still, obliterating the three youngest guys on the brand in one match is hardly building for the future. Although, I'm sure HHH has somehow convinced himself that he actually did them a favor, and now they'll be better off for it. You see, HHH is the equivalent of taking your military trainees out to the desert and dropping a nuclear bomb on them. And then whoever crawls out of the smoldering heap gets to  officially be one of the officers! Only, you know, like a fucking A-bomb, no one ever climbs out of HHH's hole either. Maybe that's because he keeps insisting on shoveling more dirt on as they try to climb out. Maybe.

That said, believe it or not, Maven actually carried the match for his team, and it looks like the man, who has now eclipsed Bert from Sesame Street in my eyes as official mono-browed standard bearer, is actually going places. Unfortunately, though, all those places seem to be my fucking Television. Dear god.  Hell, some people are even saying that he, Cade & Jindrak could eventually be aligned with Randy Orton as a new stable! FAUX Horsemen? Maybe. All I know is, I'll buy it just to see Maven feud with Ric Flair, with whom combined would make the single GREATEST pair of novelty glasses EVER. Tell me I'm wrong. Get Jake Roberts mustache involved, and holy shit, there'll be no stopping them!

- Holy fuck, we actually got two consecutive good matches out of the Divas in one week. Quick, someone check the Guff and see if there's any souls left! Although, not having a soul or personality doesn't seem to stop you from getting hired in this company, so never mind. All I know is, this many good matches in the Women's division in a row HAS to be some sort of sign of the impending Armageddon (LIVE..on Pay-per-view!). Although, I don't seem to remember reading about plastic women rolling around in spandex with one another in Revelations. If only. I think that'd give me the proper motivation to go back to church again. Just think of the MIRACLES! Jesus turns 2 breast implants into 300. Vince could really get behind a religion with benefits like that. I'd mention from there Jesus using his powers to somehow give these women personalities & charisma, but come on! Even God has his limitations!

-The WWE sunk to new levels last Monday with the propaganda laced placement of wounded soldiers at ringside. I don't know about you, but I could literally see the eagles flying in slow motion. It was that glorious.  After watching Bubba, D-Von and company glad hand, and TV time given to each one, I'm surprised they didn't further up the ante by sending Terri out to give them all hand-jobs. Especially that one poor dude with the fucking hook. Lord knows he can't do it himself anymore for obvious reasons.  Hey, maybe that's the real reason pirates were so ornery? Who wouldn't want to pillage and destroy if they couldn't masturbate? They don't teach you this pertinent information in School. But they should.

That said, I know some of you people are saying, Sean, WHY DO YOU HATE FREEDOM? And I don't mean to be cruel, I really don't, making light of the pirate soldier and all, but seriously, who has a fucking hook anymore? You just know this guy has seen those rubber prosthetic hands. But noooooooo. He's sticking with the hook. Huh. Maybe someone should have made Koko B. Ware donate Frankie to complete the look?

-I know I'm not the only man obsessed with HHH and this YJ Stinger product. Not since the WCW days and "Surge" have I hated a product so much and never even had it. I also find it humorous that Triple H doesn't sell for fucking killer bees either. For all we know, the bees were originally supposed to kill Trips, but Helmsley informed the Director they just "weren't ready yet.". YOU HAVE TO WANT IT, KILLER BEES.

-Shane McMahon and Kane brawling in the Hospital and then battling with a big bag of hemoglobin does little for me other than to convince me to never donate my blood any time soon. Somehow, I don't think this was the best way to promote the Red Cross.Ya, hey, just ignore the Bull Shannon looking motherfucker with the dead-eye in his long underwear kicking the shit of that preppy pudgy dude in a tracksuit. Sign up here. Holy shit. Most people don't need a complimentary piece of Pizza and a diet Coke that fucking badly. Except me. It's free. What can I say. Besides, the only blood I utilize at this point all heads to the same place at once. Usually during Trish Stratus matches. I think I can spare a little.

And speaking of Kane, why is it that he seems to be coming out with less clothes every week, yet the Divas seem to be wearing more? And speaking of Naked Kane, where are his SCARS?  This dude was burned alive, remember? And hey, wasn't Jim Ross a few months ago, too? Yet he's fine now, as well. What the fuck is going on here? All I know is, if *I* was in a burn unit right now, I'd sign with WWE, stat. Tragic burns all over your face and body only leave you with non-healing wounds and a life of perpetual unending pain when you're *not* a WWE superstar. Silly, everyone knows that.

-Onto the Smackdown side of things , it looks like Vince and Steph will now "wrestle" in an "I quit" match at the PPV. YAY! Although, somehow, I think it may be the fans themselves who yell it first. I know I just threw in the towel. Only in my case, it was into the laundry.  Mostly because I just watched that Divas match from last Monday, and umm, ya, it's needs to be washed. Forget I said anything.

That said, is it just me, or is Steph growing larger as weeks pass? And I don't mean fat. I just mean mass. How did this ever happen? How did our Billion Dollar Prince..ess come to this? I mean, even her voice has changed several octaves. Despite the fact that prolonged exposure to her former pitch would cause your head to explode scanners-style, at least, back then, you knew it was actually FEMININE. What happened? At the rate her voice is changing and gradually getting deeper, by this time next year, she'll have ousted fucking James Earl Jones from yelling "This is CNN!". 

Stephanie: "Vince never told you what happened to your Father...".

Hunter: "He-uh, told-uh, me-uh, enough-uh. He-uh told-uh me-uh, you-uh killed-uh him-uh!".

Stephanie: "No, I, am YOUR Father!".

Hunter: "Noooooooooooooooo-uh! That's-uh not-uh, true-uh! That's-uh impossible-uh!".

I do have a theory, though. Perhaps it's the hormonally enhanced super sperm of the Game himself, causing these genetic changes? You know, that once ingested, caused Steph to triple her normal size? There's already a precedent. I mean, Chyna got a whole lot more feminine after breaking up with Hunter. All I know is, if this was the Marvel Universe, Ms. McMahon would now be fitted for a yellow spandex unitard and sent off to Xavier's school for gifted, err, youngsters, anyway. Although, I think she'd be better suited to the evil brotherhood of mutants, myself. They could utilize her writing talents to turn the tide in the war. All it'll take is a few of her terrible storylines and the non-mutant threat will instantly surrender and the Sentinels will all commit hara-kiri. NOTHING MOVES THE BLOB. Except funky beats.

-Just for the record though, on the comic book front, being bombarded with Gamma rays didn't turn me into an unstoppable green monster, it just gave me inoperable cancer. What gives? When do I get super-strength and invulnerability? And when will I stop bleeding internally? Help? Stan Lee?

-So, HHH has put a one hundred thousand dollar bounty on Goldberg? Normally, I'd like to see it the other way around, but come on, let's be serious. Like a Jew is gonna part with that much money! *Ahem*

-Thumbs up to a great Ladder match on RAW last night. RVD scaled the ladder and regained the belt! He then took the ladder back home to Battle Creek, because he just remembered his parents garage rafters is where he last stored his stash. His parents should find him on the weekend passed out amidst Funyon bags. True story.

-Speaking of RAW, how about that big Fabulous Moolah birthday comeback match last night? Normally, the only thing people that age wrestle with is incontinence.  That said, Moolah deserved the moment. Even if that was the most awkward and tedious schoolboy roll up in HISTORY. By the time Moolah had finally finished rolling Victoria over, said Schoolboy was graduating college and fucking shaving. But hey, whatever. Props to Moolah at 80(?). Although, I found her post-match pose-down a little disturbing. Who knew Moolah had 24 inch pythons? I mean, sure, they're upside down, but hey, there they were.

-And finally, it looks like I won't be going to Wrestle Mania as tickets are expected to sell out next week almost instantly thanks to the "not-at-all crackable" password the W's gave their fans: MANIA. Jim Ross also denied that a proposed Hulk Hogan vs. Randy Savage match would be taking place as speculated. Which is good, because I don't think the WWE would purposely put their own younger superstars on the back burner to promote a match between two fledgling 50 year olds and try and pass it off as the real Wrestle Mania Main Event. Oh. 

Whether they're BAKED or FRIED or BOTH (which is often the case), RVD potatoes are a ONE OF A KIND taste experience! Each RVD potato is ORGANICALLY grown in a *very special* and *very secret* HYDROPONIC CLOSET, that creates a unique and UNORTHODOX  blend of flavor, that goes down great with a myriad of snack foods such as Cheetoes and uncooked cookie dough. Each RVD potato packs a tremendous punch, so much so, that your wife will probably go complain to the boss and demand that they be toned down a bit! They're that good!

So, roll out RVD potatoes with your next meal, or spontaneous snack at about twenty after four every day.  Each bag is GUARAN-DAM-TEED to remain FRESH for up 22 STRAIGHT MONTHS.  Where they'll then promptly be replaced and the whole company will go out of business.

We guarantee that they're the best VAN DAMN Potatoes* you've ever had, or your money back. Or IOU'd as it were. (ask Paul Heyman). That's RVD POTATOES. Because when you think of big Ol' Potatoes being dished out, you think ROB..VAN..DAM.

* When opened, potatoes may flip through the air for no real reason.

OK, I don't mean to beat a dead horse here...Ok, there was that one time, but I was very drunk & lonely, and feel really bad about it, but if you, or a longtime close personal friend (credit- Mean Gene Okerlund) would like to have your two cents on wrestling heard, all you have to do is drop me a line and send me a glossy pic of your girlfriend nude and I'll post a few emails. Or if you want to just send me the pic that'd be cool, too. Look at it as my way of giving back to the community! Much like the current forced community service I now have to undertake after pleading "no-contest" in court to certain brazen false charges. I swear, I thought that was Alka-Seltzer that I was putting in her drink! Honest!

See you in 8-10.