Sunday, May 22, 2016

Cross Blog Post

from The Gorilla Position
gorillawrestling.blogspot.com

"The current advertised dark match main event for Raw on May 30 is John Cena and Roman Reigns and Dean Ambrose vs. AJ Styles and Luke Gallows and Karl Anderson." - PW Insider's Steven Fernandes

Balls!

Hey kids! It's time for WWE's extremely PG extreme rules pay per view! Woo! Guys getting hit with chair- no? No chairs? Okay but at least some tabl- no tables? But they're both in the video game!

Okay, okay. Don't worry. Uncle Vince assures me that there will be both chairs and tables at the event. They will be used for selling merch, sitting down asses, and DEALING OUT PAIN AT SUMMERSLAM. I mean extreme rules, sorry. I'm just really excited for SUMMERSLAM.

Btw. Every time I write SUMMERSLAM my autocorrect makes it all caps. That's why it always looks like SUMMERSLAM. Anyway.

Here's the card with full predictions and RIP Mitch.

Jk he's coming back.


Dolph Ziggler vs. Baron Corbin (No Disqualification)
Again one of the better matches that I am looking forward to is early on the card. Thanks Uncle Vince, now I can go to bed while all the boring main events happen. I mean, I'm not saying that a billionaire who built a wrestling empire is an idiot, but Uncle Vince has been extremely lucky in the face of business practices that would slap dead any company that didn't feature Terry Gene Bollea and Mark Callaway. Why isn't this more main eventy? I thought this was a new era? Guess not. Anyway, both this guys haven't won on PPV for a while it feels like (maybe I'm wrong) and both have significant heat; it's still so close to call. I think they're gonna go traditional and either give it to the face or the heel; I mean like duh. Ziggler will pull out a win after Corbin showboats and gestates with the crowd most likely. I don't think Corbin will win because of the heel further down the card who says Neit. Likely Rusev will get the major heel win tonight.

The Usos vs. Luke Gallows and Karl Anderson (Tornado Tag)
Boring. Boring. Boring. This this like the fifth time they've gone in recent memory. The matches aren't terrible but they're better with Reigns and Styles. Usos win again.

Dean Ambrose vs. Chris Jericho (Asylum Match)
This one I am pretty interested in, if only because Jericho is always must see; and as of late he's been just perfect in the self centered heel role. It's great when he says, "quiet. Quiet. Quiet. Quiet," to the audience; reminds me of the great heels. Ambrose is Ambrose. Great in ring, crowd love him, yeah he's fine, sure. This match gimmick could be great, I plan on seeing Y2J in the straight jacket and such. They need to morph the Ambrose gimmick a bit though, it's starting to become redundant. Ambrose gets gets his win back. Also look for the return of Mitch the potted plant, who is sort of like the Stephanie McMahon to their Son in Law Triple HHH (or the Jim Ross to their Stone Cold Steve Austin.)

The Miz vs. Cesaro vs. Kevin Owens vs. Sami Zayn (Intercontinental Championship)
I don't want to say to much about this match as I'm looking forward to it big time. I've cooled my hate for Miz lately and all three of the other guys are favorites of mine. Likely scenario is that Owens and Zayn cost each other the match (so to further their bitter feud) and then Cesaro wins it; thus changing hands. Whatever they do, please drop the belt. The worst thing they could do is build this match so much (through raw and snack down) only to have the heel retain the title. Cesaro by pinfall as Owens and Zayn cost each others shot.

Kalisto vs. Rusev (United States Championship)
Rusev wins here, I'm sure of it. I don't know why, I just have this feeling from the build. Kalisto will get buttered with punches and slams early, come back with some valiant second wind, then Lana will interfere and Rusev will win. That's what I think at least and I am always right about everything so.

Machka!

Charlotte vs. Natalya (Submission Match for Women's Championship; Ric Flair banned)
The women's division fucking rocks man. Tonight we have the daughter of Nature Boy Ric Flair taking on the daughter of Jim The Anvil Neidhart. And they are both so good at what they do; the promo with Vince's Brood and Natch was awesome. I was on my feet when Natch lost his shit and went after Shane O Mac; doing the slaps and the walk and the run into the ropes. Classic. This might be the best match of the night, I don't wanna call it but I think tonight might be Naty's night.

The New Day vs. The Vaudevillains (Tag Team Championship)
I said might be because of course here lies the match which features a great NXT trained, throwback 90s feel tag team and of course your W...W...E...Tag...Team...Champions! New Day Rocks! But they probably drop the belts tonight, sorry. It's okay because A) they'll get them back soon and B) the Vaudevillians are pretty great, let's be honest.

Roman Reigns vs. AJ Styles (Extreme Rules World Heavyweight Xhampripnshot)
Boring. I'm so sick of this feud. They both might be injured, but Styles is gonna be Kerry Von Erich one legging it on his injury. Could be great, their match at Payback was; but I'm just bored with this feud. Turn Roman heel tonight though...

And I'm fucking back Uncle Vince and Cousins Shane O and Steph and Aunt Linda and Cousins CM Punk and Hornswaggle and Cousin in Law Triple HHH. You bastards.

Live long and plucky.

Friday, May 20, 2016

Loot Crate!

LootCrate May 2016
POWER!

HULK SMASH!

just got the Lootcrate for the month and though it wasn't the most amazing box they've done, it did have a few interesting tiddies in there of note. First of all sick Hulk figure from Q Fig, it fits nicely with the others that Lootcrate has Shipped in the past (Deadpool and Batman in the photo are also Q made by Q Fig.) I'm a sucker for statues so this one is a pass.

 The shirt this month is also in the realm of pretty alright. I mean it's Warcraft so that's cool...if you wasted you life on that game. I wasted mine on Starcraft. Where's my damn Zerg devouring a Terran shirt gdamnit. Anyway, it's also cotton and huge for huge guys; I am a skinny bastard so it's fine. It's totally fine. Close pass.

Then something really cool. Plushy Shenron the dragon wrapped around a comically enlarged Dargon Ball. It has a clip on it so I think it's supposed to hang from your rear view mirror or your Haunaka fern, but I really don't care. I'm just gonna clip this to my face because dragon ball is awesome. Super pass with A plus.

Another resounding victory! A fracking Infinity Gauntlet Oven Mitt! This is quite awesome and cool and now I can move my sufflee anywhere in the universe without burning my hands. Solid. 10 out of 10 multipass.

Alright! Last thing here is the super awesome pin (which I love, like a child) and this time again it does not disappoint. It's apparently a bot from the game battleborn, but I do no care because these metal pins are sick and they could probably put just like the most awful thing on there and I would still wear it. Up to 11 out of 10.
Also the box is alright (but honestly I never turn them inside out, I just go, "oh cool," and play with my toys) but the magazine is really coming around. I actually read most of this one. The way they are laying it out with the stuff upfront (and corresponding articles) and then crap at the back is much better than the myriad of other ways they have tired to make it work. It's always kinda gimmicky and dumb, but it seems like it's getting better.

Anyway that's it for the May 2016 LootCrate, POWER!


From the other blog side

heres a treat. This is from my other blog I just started called The Gorilla Position; wherein I speak on the beauty and theater of pro wrestling. Please give it a read and check us out at gorillawrestling.blogspot.com

A brief History of Inanimate Wrestlers

Yoshihiko

Japanese wrestling is like no other. In a lot of ways, it's the heart and soul of the sport and the creative home for the moves and styles that define wrestling's violent poetic dances. It's the equivalent of what can be called a, "sports Mecca," where the greats often go to tour as conquering heroes, where the crowds are most appreciative of the work, where they can ply their trade far into obscurity. Some of the greatest of all time came from Japan, and there's so many to choose from; including Tiger Mask, Great Muta, Rikidozan, and Antonio Inoki...and I'm going to talk about the living sex doll Yoshikiko.

Bare with me.

Yoshikiko is first and foremost a wrestler. Weighing in at 400g, and at a height of 120cm, he is one of the few fourth generation gimmicks in wrestling. The preceding Yoshihiko's belong to the exclusive club of those few performers (like Million Dollar Man's adoptive father, Ted Dibiase Sr) who died in ring, mid performance; and an even more exclusive club (featuring one of my all timers, the game changing Bruiser Brody) of greats felled by one of their fellow wrestlers. As far as his gimmicks, they shifted including imitation appearances as Japanese legend Great Muta, the American Badass era Undertaker, to a current run as a Hulk Hogan clone. Yoshihiko also is a fan favorite and champion in his native land, known for his dominating, high flying power style and his tombstone pile driver finish.  If all of this sounds like a pretty normal, run of the mill wrestling bio, then let me qualify it with this; Yoshihiko is an inflatable sex doll.

There is a time honored tradition in Japanese Pro Wrestling that is best described as the, "inanimate object that wrestles." But even that isn't quite fair, because to be honest one of those great, non traditional so called, "wrestlers," was the, "great," Misutero; a non existent, "invisible wrestler" (more on him later) who has himself had and continues to have a long and successful career in Japan. This tradition (like many wrestling and big top traditions) can be traced back to a myriad of differing, conflicting origins; but the main idea is to obviously show off the skill of this singular, in ring performer. Sale is the name of the game here. The actual real wrestler puts on one hundred percent of the show himself; selling frantically and dramatically the non existent moves of their opponent. While at face value it seems a puzzling spectacle, it's actually dizzying, amazing, and all kinds of awesome. And while many inanimate objects have had ample screen time in The Game (RIP Mitch,) none quite optimize what an inanimate grappler can do quite like Yoshi. Or rather, the wrestler that's actually doing the sell. It's interesting from time to time, but it's a gimmick. Nothing more than a fun little side show, original it may be.

But what happened next should surprise absolutely no one, and at the same time, may still shock you. Yoshihiko burst through the veil of being a strange yet popular gimmick, into one of the most popular wrestlers in the promotion he operates with, Dramatic Dream Team. He won major matches against, "superior," (see: animate) wrestlers, got major pay per view spots and his own manga comic and tv show. At one point he even held the (not so) prestigious Iron Man Heavymetalweight Championship; which is the Japanese Hardcore title so it has changed hands more times than reasonable to count. An aside on the Heavymetalweight Championship: the following is a small sample of some of the other, "wrestlers," who have at one time held this belt. A baseball bat who then lost it after being broken in half as a 'KO' decision, which is essentially death, three different (and I'm assuming legendary) ladders, which in all cases fell on the champion and a pinfall was counted, (two of these also defended the title at some point,) a chicken doll, and Mr. Kasai; a stuffed doll of the wrestler Jun Kasai. Mr. Kasai has actually won the belt twice so...I did say time honored, didn't I?

Anyway, Yoshihiko's run led to him having a kayfabe sister named Akihiro, who debuted in 2013; so yeah now there's multiple inflatable Sex Doll wrestlers in DDT, and even more in other promotions in the country. But no one can touch the king of inanimate wrestling; his matches are amazing to watch, wrestling spectacle and show at its very best. In one particular match, "he," after wrapping up the opponent and tossing him to the mat with a Power Slam; the opponent expertly sells a Yoshihiko Irish whip, and throws himself out of the ring. A black clad assistant jumps in and lifts him to his feet, clapping his flappy plastic arms in perfect unison with the crowd. Then the assistant balls Yoshi's body up and tosses him over the top rope to the delight of the fans; and he lands perfectly on his opponent. It's pure wrestling, plain and simple; even if it one of the stranger spectacles the sport can summon. He is a perennial baby face, cheered forever like Sting or Austin; a creation that is in a way another mirror of the fans themselves. For so long promotions (especially WWE) have so tried to over embrace the outside fans of wrestling. While it makes sense, as Uncle Vince built his empire through the Rock n Wrestling/Wrestlemania days (as well as on the crumpled bodies of so many shooters;) it's doesn't really seem like the smart move any more. The true fans of wrestling, when the dust has settled over the whole WWF, New Generation, Monday Night Wars, Attitude Era, Invasion storylines (wrestling history reads like Patrick Sylvster's essays on Revolution) were the ones who were left. Oh and India, if the Internet is to be believed. Yoshihiko is the natural progression of appealing to that heat.

But the success of Yoshihiko didn't come without its share of tragedy; which is the case when you cast your die with the wrestling lot. Yoshihiko the first was wrestling a match (that he was apparently booked to win) against wrestler Antonio Honda when Honda attempted a knee drop and Yoshihiko's head quite literally burst open; kayfabe, "killing," him instantly. His successor was modified into a Great Muta gimmick, however would meet much the same fate when Kenny Omega sent him out of the ring, splitting open his head and thus also kayfabe, "killing," him. A third Sex Doll Yoshihiko then made his appearance (in the very name match,) styled as the American Badass Undertaker (with the same entrance music.) Eventually this Yoshi was shot by the same man who killed his first incarnation, Antonio Honda; which led to his current Hulk Hogan incarnation. This gimmick has apparently lasted, or at least for now, such in ring tragedies that plagued his forbearers have yet to occur. What's interesting to me about this this juxtaposition of this storyline (though obviously created from necessity as in, at least the first two, "deaths," they were not planned) to the dearth of real in ring deaths that have always been a subtle backdrop to the sport. From the aforementioned Dibiase Sr to the beloved Owen Hart, to the many who have gone far before their time outside the square; it's clear that the grim reaper has been fitted for a shooters singlet. These men grapple with him nightly, from rental car to motel to mat and repeat ad nauseam; in a sea of pain killers and alcohol to numb and recoup and make sure they can make it to the ring tomorrow and the next day and the next day. Therefore, while in one way Yoshihiko's "deaths," can been seen as a heartless (pardon the pun Owen) attempt to cash in on one of the darker aspects of wrestling; it can also been seen as a realization and sort of tribute. A tribute perhaps only the wrestling fan can understand; backwards and silly, yet just as heartfelt. Maybe I'm wrong about that, and you're free to disagree; that's just how I feel.

The last thing I think is important about this gimmick is how it defines the fan base and is in a sense the only logical conclusion for where wrestling has been/is going. I was reading about Yoshi when I stumbled upon a recap blog that was reviewing a match it had with Kota Ibushi. The reviewer put it like this:

"Kota Ibushi defended his championship against Yoshihiko in their first singles match since 2009. The challenger had been very aggressive to Ibushi in the build up to the match. Here it refused to shake hands before the match began. It also wrestled in a T-shirt which makes me wonder if Yoshihiko was in bad shape today."
As you can see this is a gimmick bought and sold; at least for this viewer, Yoshi is 100%, undeniably over. That's what is so different and so amazing about the fans of this crazy ass wrestling shit; like you might do when you see a movie, we suspend our disbelief to the point of believing whatever the promoter/director wants us to believe. We are part of the epic drama, the Iliad and Odyssey of two titans engaged in a totally staged battle of centuries. The reward for the hardcore fan is to see something new, something amazing, something that shows off the very best that wrestling has to offer; weather that be the technicality, brutality, skill, or show. Yoshihiko is the epitome of the show part of wrestling, which separates it so from other high profile athletics. Can you imagine the NFL putting a mannequin at quarterback? Or the NBA fixing a game? (Lol.) okay, maybe not that, but you get the idea. The thing that separates us as fans is that we are smart marks, in on the joke; in on the reality behind the curtain and the gorilla position. They wink wink at us; and we wink back. That's why the promos like the pipe bomb are so tantalizing. Why when Steve Austin says, "you talk about you Psalms? John 3:16? Well Austin 3:16 says I just whooped your ass!" it still sends shivers up my spine. Because we know the strange story behind it. Because we love wrestling.

Yoshihiko can be seen in Dramatic Dream Team wrestling in Japan from time to time, but the gimmick has cooled significantly and the manga is no longer running so it looks like the gravy train has hit the last station for our super sex doll wrestler. The Jun Kasai doll has made recent appearances, as well as the aforementioned Misutero; the non existent wrestler.

A bit more on him; this is a very weird gimmick that feels like it falls under the same sort of category as Yoshihiko, but with considerably less thought. It's the cheap version; "hey you know how they have a sex doll wrestler? Well we have a nothing wrestler." And by they I obviously mean we because obviously they are heavily used by the same company, those rascals as DDT. Opponents in their matches are on their own; selling the moves of a wrestler who isn't there. As Wikipedia puts it: "the title is held by nothing and no-one but the wrestlers and referees act as if they can see and pin the "invisible wrestler"." At one point Muscle Sakai (no relation) wrestled the title from Misutero by using patented "ray gun" and "infrared visor" techniques, which obviously apparently shoot the "invisible rays" at the, wrestler." In the end he Misutero dropped the belt to Muscle on a KO decision. That happened. A guy wrestled nobody and won a title belt. While the idea is the same, to showcase the wrestling and the single wrestler in a totally new way; but the matches are so boring their hard to watch, other than a select few. There's something about the faux realness of Yoshihiko that makes him more appealing; or something.

As I finish writing this a notification pops up to tell me that the corporate suck up John Cena is hosting the ESPY awards (which are irrelevant.) It reminds me why I do this. Or something. Maybe not.

Join me again won't you.

Sunday, May 15, 2016

Epoch and Emmert

Epoch and Emert 

Officer Sudds' body had been located in a fetid sewer under the reservation; after of course an extensive search. Possessor Longform noted the state of decomposition of flesh as, "medium," and Possesor Manik agreed, nodding his oval brow with implicit correspondence. Possesor Longform wrote some scrawl in his spiral bound notebook and wiped the sweat off his brow with a silk embroidered, "Crest of the Wintermoon," face cloth. It was a peculiarly warm day in the old city, the Amnurian summer had not been kind to the teaming southern swamps; however the insects seemed to enjoy it. As they stood overlooking Sudds' bloating corpse, a swarm of tiny biting flies circled endlessly above their sunburnt bald heads. 
"These things are just murder, Manik," Possessor Longform muttered at his colleague as he wiped the broken body on one of his accompanying solider's shirt sleeves, "I don't know how they deal with it."
"Er, what's murder sir? The bugs or the, er, murder," Possessor Manik said with his usual truthful lack of understanding pun, joke, mirth, of hyperbole. 
"Eh, the murder of course Manik," he crouched over Sudds' blank expression, smelling the warm rank of the corpse melding with the waft of fresh bakeries churning out the daily rations. 
"What makes a man kill an officer?" Manik held his hand over his heart in some mock salute. Possessor Longform stood, and pocketed the spiral notebook. 
"What makes a man kill," he said. Manik gave him another one of his looks. 

The intra Emperial street war between Possessors and Confession Men had been going on since, as any elderly resident of the Obelisk would gladly tell you, before anyone could rightly remember. Though they were technically corresponding divisions mustered to work in tandem for public safety and control, there was a heartfelt contempt between them which was borderline violent. In fact, it was past violent at times; during the last Revolutionary conflict, Possessors had broken the seal on Regulatory pact 861 and 12, by storming the Confession headquarters on level fifty and shooting (according to the Confession Men it was much more) four errant Confessors making moves for their rifles. Then again, two years ago Confessor Duggan had arrested and executed (personally) five members (Possessor Felix claimed twenty) of the Mid Level Possession Unit Squad. Recently the rivalry had lukewarmed into just that, a pleasant but bitter resentment that culminated mostly in misfiled paperwork and low levels of interoffice communication. To the public, well it wasn't quite clear what Confession Men and Possesors even did; though years of artful propaganda had taught most of the citizenry to have a healthy fear and respect for each. Since in reading this dossier you must have level five or higher security clearance, I can enumerate on their respective occupations to give you a better understanding of their relationship. 

"There follows page after page of black lined, censored sentences," Fourth Teir Dimbley said turning over the official dossier to Confessor Storch. He gave it a puzzled look. 
"So why am I looking at it?" Storch asked with a carnivorous purr. He flipped through the pages defiantly. 
"Cause it mentions those two children you've been so furiously hunting," Storch sat up. 
"What? Where?"
"It's a coded message sir. Obviously it's author was as shrewd tactician than we have ever seen. He wrote up in words (*a capital crime) the combined histories of two of the most notorious and corrupt groups in all the Obelisk; but it was more diversion than revenge."
"Diversion," Storch breathed, "Senator Boucham couldn't just go to his gallows peacefully." For a moment he relived the trial and lynching of the rebel senator; a trying time indeed. 
"Not without a bit of a last kick at his old establishment enemies, that is," Dimbly handed over a second page, a single page, and the Confession Man eyed it over. 
"Epoch?" He said, puzzled, "and Emert?" Dimbly let the brief moment of managerial bliss awash over him. 
"Your lost boys."

Frank Miller's Sesame St

Frank Miller’s Sesame Street

Big Bird: It was a cold bitch of a night. Night so cold, like if Hell was cold instead of warm. Not hot, but cold. I’m in a lousy part of town, a dank Hotel Room. Theres raining outside. I’m looking at a sexy Big Bird lady, and she says she wants me. She wants me to protect her. She says her name is Goldie Bird.
(cut) (glass smashes)


BB: all of a sudden someones throwing me out a window. Just my luck. Im a big bird. Big Birds cant fly. They just flap their wings. And fall.

I hit the ground and theres blood all over the place. Red blood. My blood. But Im a tough guy. I land on some trash bags and kick the front windshield out of the cop car cause obviously those crooked cops are involved. I beat them up, not like some sissy liberal. I don’t negotiate. Then I take the cop car and crash it into some water for revenge. Oh yeah and Goldie Bird’s dead. I love you Goldie Bird.

Later I beat up some more crooked cops who are after me. But theyre bad guy cops from this crazy mixed up future. But I’m not looking for more cops; I’m looking for something small and hairy…

I find Elmo in the usual spot; a crack needle in his arm. Walk down the right back alley on Sesame Street and you can find anything.
(punch punch)

BB: Take it easy Elmo!

Elmo: OWW! ELMO DON’T KNOW ANYTHING BB!

BB: Come here you junkie! (punch punch)

Vo: I Punch him a few times in the gut. He pukes. Its all gross looking but also theosophical. It reminds me of how liberals are weak. I pause for a moment to internally debate the many possibilities and realms of thought that have been opened by these actions. I look back at Elmo. He seems confused. Like he’s waiting for me to say something. Man this is awkward. I hit him. (punch punch)

Elmo: OKAY OKAY! ELMO WILL TELL YOU! (punch)

Vo: I punch him again cause I can. He tells me everything. The rain rains down. He tells me about this grouchy bastard of a pimp who lives in a Garbage can. Says his name his Oscar. Says he runs the local pimp trade in these parts and he can be found at his trashside Pimpery day and night. I don’t know if I can believe him; he doesn’t look like a big tough guy like me.  

BB: spread the word, Elmo. Tell em Im looking who killed Goldie Bird… (dun dun dun!)


Tale of the Tunes: Loose Cannon
Narrator: Welcome back to Tale of the Tunes. Loose Cannon.
1: We were starting to get really big.
2: I mean, he played a mean drum, but he couldn’t keep his nose clean
Narrator: Loose Cannon spiraled out of control during their 95 tour of Denmark and Yugoslavia, with several of the members falling into over the counter cold medications and various European cults. As the tour neared its conclusion, tragedy struck the band.
3: I mean everyone was into Xaxthor the Embowler back then, Steve, Kenny, Vince, Jonny, Larry, even Donny Brass was sacrificing virgins to the wintermoon
2: a couple of the guys were into Xaxthor, yeah. I wasn’t into all that mumbo jumbo. Im a born Jehova’s Witness.
4: we dabbled in you know, worship of the Moon Goddess Epifpany, you know, drank her moon wine and bathed in the garden of many pleasures. I myself was also doing some worshipping of The Great Crab Which Guides The Stars.
Narrator: but some members of the band took it too far.
3: Barry….Barry, Barry, Barry….
2: He really took to the whole Xaxthor thing. Most of us were just trying to get some chicks.
4: Barry, he really believed in it all
1: I remember we were in Durmitor National Park in present day Montenegro and Barry starts convulsing and shouting how he’s “Xaxthor reborn!” The dark lord wouldn’t have none of that
Narrator: That day, exactly one year after his backstage row with Joni Mitchell, Loose Cannon lead singer Barry “Lights Out” Lolliver was found dead in his hotel bathroom. A combination of prayer and barbiturates were determined to be the cause of death.
3: I mean there was just incense burning, too much really even for a Xaxthorian ceremony
1: Idols of the dark lord spread all over the bed
2: it was just sick for him to go out like that……
Narrator: With four shows left at the spacious Free People of The National State of Yugoslavia Arena and Prison, it looked like it might be the end of Loose Cannon. But help would come, from an unlikely source. (Cherry upbeat music)
1: Satan.
3: Satan.
2: Satan.
4: I mean, he just changed everything
1: He walks up there, to our little studio over the pet shop, and he picks up the Les Paul
3: shreds it. Totally just shreds it.
2: we were all just standing there, in like, a state of shock
4: then……..he started singing
(bad David Lee Roth style singing)
1: that was it. Loose Cannon was back.
(Highway to Hell type song plays)
Narrator: Lucifer would bring them their best success yet, Headline Arena tours of Japan, Austria, Serbia, Mexico, Uruguay, and Pakistan. Gold Records like, “Wet Me Up,” “Get Down On My Wicked Thang,” “Cockrock Opera,” and, “The Voyage of the Panty Raider.” Women, money, fast cars, fast boats, fast planes, fast outer space rockets to the moon. (each one with corresponding sound effect, women laughing, cash register, race car noise, etc.)
2: We had it all
Narrator: they had it all. But as with every bleary eyed tale of fortuitous ascent to lofted heights, this tale too would descend again into the drug and prayer soaked world of Entertainment Theater.
1: and then we lost it
Narrator: October 9th. The Lord of Lies calls a press conference.
4: we didn’t know what for, he hadn’t told us a thing.
2: we were all just waiting. Wondering.
Satan: (press conference noises) excuse me. Hello. Ive called you here today to make an important announcement. Though my three years as a member of Loose Cannon have been the best of my life, today I am announcing my leaving behind of the group to embark on a solo career.
3: we were stunned. The whole room was silent.
1: I mean, how do you come back from that? (up beat music plays again)
Narrator: Loose Cannon would find a way. Next time on Tale of the Tunes, Ricky “The Lady Killer,” Compaziano, Fold Face Mcgee, and the introduction of a new twist in the Loose Cannon saga; Lips Lenore; the bands first female member.

Satan declined to comment for this docudrama. 

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Monday, May 12, 2014