Hello again, and welcome to the column that’s a lot like getting head from a woman who uses too much teeth: It’s very painful to get through, but I’ll be damned if it’s not worth it in the end, The Back-Leg Frontkick!

Anyway, as I write this, I’m doubled over in immense pain and barely able to remain conscious. The culprit of my condition is a Triple cheeseburger from Wendy’s. But it gets worse. See, while at Wendy’s, I found out that for an additional 99 cents, I could add ANOTHER paddy to this already hulking sandwich. However, not just satisfied with eating more beef than the average human being consumes in one calendar year, I was dared to see how far I could take this thing, and DEMANDED 3 additional paddies; if only for the folktales it would create amongst the staff (I actually insisted on four, but the girl behind the counter insisted that it was physically…and morally impossible.).

With my manhood at stake, (and secretly out under the table. Shhh) I devoured the entire Frankenstein hamburger, that in sheer bulk, kind of resembled that fucking giant metal Mayor McCheese cage from the McDonalds play-land of my youth. Soon, I found the staff cheering me on, well, except for the one cute girl who brought me my “Biggie drink”… who I noticed was increasingly repulsed as I dribbled a combination of hot cheese and synthetic mayonnaise all over my styling Calvin & Hobbes T-shirt, in one big, perverse spectacle. Anyway, I wiped my face clean with a napkin that suspiciously resembled toilet paper (fucking Wendy’s!) and exited the establishment, anticipating the worst, but surprisingly, I felt no ill-effects. UNTIL NOW. See, as I’ve typed this, I’ve found myself slipping more and more into the realms of insanity (or as warrior calls it? umm, every day?) as the poisons begin to race through my body, and the beef hallucinations take hold. At one point, I could have sworn I saw deceased songmeister Jim Morrison clung outside my window. He truly is the Lizard King. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Anyhoo, I shall move on, and attempt to finish this column, despite the fact that I now have more meat inside my abdomen than a Porno with Ron Jeremy. And yes, I just wanted to make that joke.

WARRIORGATE!

This just in. Warrior hates Sean Carless.

I’m saddened to hear this, but if you had told me some 15 years ago, that Warrior would like to crush me beneath his glorious fringed boot, I’d ask where I could sign up, and beg for a big splash as well. For me, it would have been an honor to be savagely murdered by the then WWF champion. Sadly, though, now a days I just don’t have the time to be smited…

Anyway, in case you’re scratching your head, asking yourself, “What the fuck is he talking about?” I’ll fill you in. You see, a little over a week ago, at a University lecture, that evening’s speaker, The Ultimate Warrior, or “Warrior” as it says on his driver’s license, apparently offended some of the students, with what was described as “racist” and “homophobic” comments, including the now infamous “Queering doesn’t make the world work.” (Listen here).

From there, I took it upon myself to do what I do best, and jump on the hilarity of the situation before all the other site’s had a chance to feed off Warrior’s corpse. I whipped up a little something for Honky Tonk Man’s site, as I giggled to myself like a retarded schoolgirl at the prospect that Warrior addressed the young Republicans in full gear, (you know, the trunks, the makeup, the armbands) complete with snorting, pressing to the heavens and leaving the speech, sprinting from the building to the bass of his WWF theme song.  Anyhoo, I came up with a fluff piece, and thought nothing of it, as to be honest, compared to A LOT of people out there, I felt I was relatively easy on the controversy, as I instead chose to jokingly explain why Warrior would make such comments. Anyway, rather than explaining it further, you can read it here;

So, anyway, I posted it, thinking all was right with the world, and the next morning I have this waiting in my email inbox: (also in my personal email address as well….someone can use WHOIS!).

“Mr. Carless,
I am both Business Affairs Director and Communications Director for Warrior.
He is cc'ed on this email, so that you will know that I speak with his full authority.

In as much as I am currently handling several different projects for Warrior
right now, we simply don't have a lot of time to deal with you - so this is
going to be short and sweet.

A fan recently emailed me with a link to your April 7 commentary on the HTM
website.  As you are aware, you went too far.  It's apparent from your past
entries on the site that you have some sort of problem with Warrior. 
Frankly, we don't care.  What we DO care about, however, is when someone
steps over the line in gratuitously insulting Warrior - even if that person
is as relatively inconsequential and unsuccessful as yourself.  Your column
(and that's using the term quite loosely) goes way beyond the bounds of
propriety.  It must be taken down IMMEDIATELY.

We have no problem with people who want to intelligently and rationally take
issue with something that Warrior says or writes.  You have that right. 
However, you do NOT have a right to portray Warrior as a homosexual - even
if it's done under the banner of satire.  You have no right to use Warrior's
image.  You do not have a moral right to attack Warrior for things that you
"heard" or "read" that he said - you need to make sure you have all the
facts before you issue judgment.  Last, but not least, if you are going to
essentially call another man out (which is what your article amounts to),
you need to be prepared to accept the consequences of your actions.

In closing, I am not going to debate this with you - nor will Warrior.  I am
making this one-time request/demand/suggestion that you immediately remove
that column - and do your damndest to forget about Warrior entirely.

What happens from here is up to you.

Sincerely,
Chris Lewis
Director of Business Affairs
Director of Communications
Ultimate Creations, Inc.”

I guess I won’t be getting a Christmas card from Warrior this year. And by the by, “Damndest” isn’t a real word. (but considering who his boss is, it is kind of par for the course.) But seriously, I can’t forget Warrior!  Warrior himself always insists that we “always believe” and how dare you take that away from me Chris Lewis, Director of directing Warriors and communications and Warriors…or something! Seriously though, Warrior is a public figure and he can be parodied as such. I have that right. Look it up. Public figures can be satired without fear of libel (even though I made no direct libelous comments). Still, though, I can just imagine the reaction, especially after seeing the silly “Captain Faggo” pic  “Oh, you fucker! How dare you sully the good name of…umm, Warrior!” .

Anyway, truth be told, had “Mr. Lewis” emailed me and mentioned nicely that Warrior was offended by my column, I probably would have removed it. I’m not an asshole….Ok, I am, but I still would have. Because frankly, I would have became so wrought with guilt, as I pictured Warrior sitting there reading my column, his mascara running as he shed one tear ala the recycling Indian, at the thought of one of his LITTLE WARRIORS stabbing him in his barndoor back. After all, I remember rubbing it everyone’s face in 1990 that Warrior beat Hogan, and even drew a picture in art class of Warrior holding The Hulkster’s severed head, Medusa-style as a trophy. And now I had betrayed him. I’m worse than that Rick Rude who stole his IC belt in a shady and underhanded fashion! Damn that Sean Carless to Hell! That betrayer of Warriors and committer of other wrestling travesties too horrible to be mentioned! (I once fucked a girl with a rolled up PWI. Ok, I never did that, but I always wanted to.).

Anyway, the claws were indeed out, and Mr. Director went for the jugular. Chris Lewis called me INCONSEQUENTIAL and UNSUCCESSFUL. Hey, perhaps Chris Lewis truly is my father in disguise? Sounds like something he might say….

Anyway, the email deeply affected me, and I was so intimidated that I could barely have the most comfortable sleep I’ve ever had in my life. Haha, but why should I be? I’ll save Warrior the court costs of suing me, and just give him all my possessions, which for the record include my computer, 2/3rds of pornstress Chasey Lain’s classic “White Wedding,” and a mustard stained Big Show “Big All Over” T-shirt (which unfortunately describes my physique these days and not my endowments…). All this is yours for the taking Warrior!

So, anyway, there I was, not caring, and getting on with my life, when my friend Barbwire Mike from Lethal Wrestling drops this link. Apparently, Mr. Lewis was making the rounds faster than Lita in the EMLL locker room, spreading Warrior wrath all over the internet, including to the hilarious parody site “Something Awful”, which was attacked by Lewis with the ferocity of a thunderous Warrior shoulder tackle. Soon Lewis began submitting email after email to its webmaster Lowtax, ranging from legal threats to out and out stalking. (He apparently called the guy’s father, made some strange comments about Lowtax’s physical appearance, and even threatened to dispatch Warrior to settle things with “fisticuffs.” ... and NOT a super posedown, which I found disappointing.).

Soon, I began to panic, as I was actually the first "offender" online, and soon I was picturing Warrior running across the country, in search of me, no doubt having a gorilla slam with my name all over it! (but not before sitting me down to explain the mutual benefits of a nation-wide flat tax. ).

Anyway, I became absolutely paranoid, expecting Warrior to show up anytime, launching himself through my den window before pulverizing me while I awkwardly stood for upwards of 30 seconds on the spot, for a not-at-all telegraphed flying tackle. Freaked out, I even covered all the mirrors in my house with newspaper in the case that Warrior utilized the same tactics that horrified Hollywood Hogan going into Halloween Havoc’98. I mean, if WCW wasn’t lying to us, (and I have no reason to believe they would) Warrior possesses the SUPERNATURAL ability to materialize in mirrors! I mean, I could be combing my hair, and BAM! There would be Warrior, reaching from an alternate plane, and throttling me with his mighty hands… the SAME hands that snapped Hercules’ chain like it was…umm, a gimmicked detachable chain! I don’t want none of that.

Anyway, several days have passed, and I just feel lucky that I live in Canada, and thus Warrior at Mr. Lewis' bequest probably won't bother killing me. And you know, it’s probably for the best; because Warrior would find that dealing with the harsh Canadian Winters, housed in only a snug pair of neon underoos, would likely  be A LOT more devastating than the 7 consecutive flying Randy Savage elbows he received at WrestleMania VII. But you can never be too careful, me thinks. In the event that he does arrive, luckily, I’ve trained myself to artfully duck clotheslines, and if things really get hairy, I do have Papa Shango on speed-dial….

But seriously, this whole thing sure got weird, and weird fast. In fact, I just learned from my friend Ryan Smith (HTM’s webmaster) that Warrior has since contacted Honky, because Warrior is amidst creating a DVD  that he’d like Honky to participate in, and well, my little column had the potential to cause a little snafu. But it’s all good, because I've heard from my sources (Ok, I just wanted sound like I’m a real journalist) that *allegedly* (take it for what's its worth), Warrior’s people, in a good will gesture, have  offered a sum of money upfront. So that's where that stands. And I'm happy for everybody! Good for Honky! A Brutha’s gots to get paid.  And good for Warrior! A Brutha’s gots to make a DVD. And Good for Chris Lewis! A Brutha’s gots to stalk people and direct things of a warrior nature. And Good for me! Ok, not good for me. I’m still inconsequential and unsuccessful, apparently… but I am a great kisser. I’ll always have that.

WARRIAH.