SS44—Manor On (Social) Media: You guys are GREAT!

With my Follower total resetting to zero when it hit 70 million, there’s no debating @SWManor is the most popular Twitter account that (sometimes) includes wrestling-related posts.  Consequently, I am constantly flooded with genius-level opinions regarding the King Of Sports.  This time out I will examine the most common of those incredibly astute communications.


“RAW and Smackdown are in huge financial trouble.  Look at this picture of all the empty seats in the arena the telecast is coming from tonight.”

Always trust “empty seat” photos posted online, even though the person taking the picture fails to mention it was shot an hour before the show started.  The billion-dollar WWE with two major television outlets currently bidding hundreds of millions for their broadcast rights is in dire financial condition!  I’m selling all my WWE stock right this minute!!!


“Chris Benoit should go in the Hall Of Fame.  After all, it’s been ten years and he was never convicted of any crime.”

Right you are, MENSA member.  Let’s take it a step further and also add Adolph Hitler to the Celebrity Wing.  It’s been over seventy years and the Fuhrer never stood trial or was even arrested!

Quite a shame Chuckling Charlie Manson croaked.  His induction speech for ol’ Adolph would have totally ruled, dude.


“So awesome seeing all the guys in Bullet Club shirts on WWE TV.”

Yes, these rugged individualists all dressed alike are really sticking it to the WWE by buying those $250 ringside seats then going home to watch good wrestling on the Network.  Right on, brother.  Fight the power!


“Now that Dixie Carter is gone, I’m going to give Impact another chance.”

Wow, that is so incredibly kind of you.  The promotion you sneered at for the past ten years while claiming to never watch it—yet being familiar with Bobby Roode, EC3, Eric Young, the Broken gimmick, etc the moment they arrived in NXT/WWE—is going to be blessed with your impartial eyes analyzing the product.  I’m immediately going to phone Scott D’Amore to ensure he sends you a “Thank You” card along with one addressed to your mother, for bringing you into this world.

(Your biological father will get one, too—if he’s ever identified.)


“It’s okay.  I’m a heel fan.”

I’ll say you are, buddy!  Don’t be so humble.  You are among the biggest “heel fans” in all of wrestling.*

Can you believe some snowflake SJW buzzkills think that buying a ticket means you are a spectator and not a participant in an event?  Losers.  But, anyway….

The way perfectly chiseled Hercules-lookalike you called that person actually in the business “a fat pig”…I-I-I am nearly at a loss for words, so awestruck by the profundity, originality and jaw-dropping cleverness of your material (…even if it bore no resemblance to something anyone who grasped heeling would say or do.)

And, oh my word, the way you yelled “You slut” at a woman you know nothing about—which, come to think of it, is exactly how much you know about any woman—is pure gold.

But why limit it to shouting from a crowd several feet away?  I say take the next step: wait for a female wrestler in the parking lot, get face-to-face with her while she’s with some of the male wrestlers or her husband, and go “Hey, whore, blow me.”  I can absolutely promise you’ll get an enthusiastic pat on the back and be declared KING of all “heel fans.”*

[*presuming “heel fans” is synonymous with “assholes”…which it is.]


“All In 2018 is going to be off the hook!!!”

You know it, baby.  Even though you don’t know minor details like the lineup or if you’ll in fact be able to watch it if not in attendance, it’s going to be lit (since it’s indoors and at night.)  Imagine that—shooting to fill a 10,000-seat venue.  From what I understand, that’s never been done before by any promotion ever. Too sweet me, bro!!!

All In Pee Wee


“_____ should go to Japan where he’d be more appreciated.

Yep.  Wrestling promotions are like social clubs.  Much like you decide to choose a AAA membership for safe motoring, a grappler picks out a promotion, then “joins” NJPW, Progress, Chikara Pro, Impact Wrestling, ICW, Ring Of Honor or whatever else tickles his fancy at the moment.  Any contract he has inked with his current employer can be casually torn up.  It’s only a piece of paper, right?

As TV has taught us, two people sign documents, one turns over the table, then a pull-apart brawl ensues.  Clearly, contracts are just for show and aren’t legally binding or anything.

Also, once a wrestler “joins” another league, he’s instantly installed in a top-tier program to illustrate he’s “more appreciated” than in the past.  This happens every single time, explaining why Samoa Joe and Sami Zayn immediately main-evented on the WWE main roster upon leaving ROH, and have each held multiple WWE titles.


“I hate it how he’s being shoved down our throats.”

I know, right?  Every Monday night, here he is being featured for like twenty minutes per episode, doing basically the same thing, since he got his singles push.  Never puts anyone over unless it’s a total fluke or distraction finish.  His “technical ability” is a joke, having maybe five moves.  And how many times do we have to watch him face Brock Lesnar?

Yeah, Braun Strowman needs to go.


“I can’t wait to see this indy match featuring Tenille Dashwood!”

It was sooooo unfair of the WWE to cut the historic pioneer of the groundbreaking Women’s Revolution, what with the eardrum-shattering reception Emma was getting upon every entrance and the remarkable way she pulled off the Emmalina makeover.  And who among us does not have a DVR stuffed with her breathtaking matches in NXT and the WWE?  In all honesty, I can’t decide whether the martyred master technician should be called “the modern-day Manami” or “the female Thesz”.

Here’s hoping you enjoy the event.  No doubt Tenille will steal the show.  Especially if it’s held in a Walmart.


“We know that everyone hates Roman Reigns.”

Blanket statements with nothing to back them up are very insightful and highly encouraged.  Opinions, facts—pfffft, the same thing.

And by all means use “we,” since you personally are the spokesperson for every single fan across the globe.  Additionally, even though you are the only person manning it, you should use plurals such as “we” and “us” on your site/account to create the illusion you have friends. Not the Facebook kind; but rather people who wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen in public with you (if you can imagine that.)

Also, feel free to constantly refer to “our sources.” It’s a lot easier than typing “something Dave Meltzer or PWInsider posted and I’m just copying so it looks like I get info from someone inside even though the closest I’ve ever come to the industry is once seeing Mikey from the Spirit Squad pulling out of a KFC lot.”


Utter brilliance.  I am certain that, after every PPV and TV broadcast, Vince’s immediate priority is to check his Twitter feed and take fastidious notes regarding what wrestling fans want.  The following morning, he has a meeting with his entire staff, outlining demands made by @smark4life et al, and ordering them to be implemented at once.  That evening, Vince goes through the timelines of each of his two million Followers, hoping the changes met with their approval.

Vince laughing GIF

The Chairman contemplating fans’ advice

“Ronda Rousey doesn’t deserve to just walk in and get on Wrestlemania.”

Yeah, look at all the Sports Illustrated spreads, multi-million-dollar-grossing PPVs and Olympic medals Sasha Banks had on her resume before she got to the WWE.  And who’s more of a worldwide household name than “the girl who’s Snoop Dogg’s cousin”?

You were right in criticizing Ronda’s initial promo, too.  I’m sure those badmouthing Rousey could—on their very first speech in a pro wrestling ring, live, in front of millions watching in the arena and at home—knock it clean out of the park.  Especially reciting a memorized scripted promo rather than speaking in their own words.


“Finn Balor should have won Elimination Chamber then the Universal Championship at Wrestlemania.”

So true. Mr. McMahon is very fond of smaller guys, particularly men in whom he invests a fortune in time and money then get injured right after the Chairman puts the big strap on them.  Why, he even makes them powerless figurehead GMs after they are forced to retire.


SS18–A Gentleman’s Guide To Handling Hoze


When exactly did the WWE become Sucka City? And is Vince McMahon wearing a Panama hat and full-length chinchilla coat while carrying a walking stick with a huge gold handle in a hand with four gaudy rings, humming the old entrance song “Pimpin’ Ain’t Easy”?

First, the Bella Broads decided to restrict their koochie comforting to one man each–or so the chumps they hooked believe–and just happened to suddenly find the top two single money-earners incredibly attractive despite John Cena resembling Ben Stein’s son Franken, and Daniel Bryan looking like a cross between a Shetland pony (same height) and a yeti.

Then the, ahem, “non-blonde” Funkadactyl cheerleader wrangled a wedding out of one of the Useless Brothers–“when they say oo, I say pyoo”–and CM Bunk popped the question to AJ Lee, despite knowing he was getting Dolph Ziggler’s sloppy seconds (and social diseases.)

Fellas, fellas, fellas, have you never heard the expression “Why live with a cow when you can get the milk for free?” I realize a hand in the bush is worth two on the bird, but do you not see the smaller print under the “Divas’ Dressing Room” sign reading “& Gold-Diggers Gulch”? You’ve watched what these chicks do in the ring, and therefore KNOW they didn’t get in the business to wrestle–other than to squeeze every penny out of you. Hell, if they had the strength, they’d hold you in one of those long-lasting Davey Boy Smith vertical suplexes, just to shake the change and car keys out of your pockets!

At least SuperCena got his squeeze Nockers Bella to sign all kinds of legal papers before allowing her to move her crap into his mansion. And he had the further good sense not to propose to the wench. But look at the flip side of that, boys. It means you’re dumber than John Cena, a man who walked into a Roman bakery and ordered a loaf of French bread, and thinks Gatorade is financial assistance for reptiles!!! A guy whose niece wanted swimming lessons, so he dropped her off in front of a building marked “Pool Hall”!!!

(Did you know that, when John was in fifth grade, the teacher asked “What is the sister city of Minneapolis?” and he replied “Is it Maxiapolis?”?)

I honestly can’t blame Mr. U Cant Stand Me for being leery about his gal’s faithfulness. After all, on her very first day of training, when the instructor was teaching kicking out and said “First, lay on your back,” she interrupted with a cheery “I’m real good at that.”

Twin sis Brie Cheese sure found a first-class sap in the bearded buffoon. Naturally, having spent all his time in the wrestling dojo or making granola bars, Danny Boy had no idea how lady parts function, forcing B-Cup to adapt sly methods to show him the Promised Land. Stunts like telling him “Now let me try a flying head-scissor on you with my panties off.” I mean, before the temporary Mrs. Bryan took her groom to Carnal Knowledge College, the Virgin Vegan thought “doggie-style” was something you put on an SPCA form and a “boob bang” was bumping into Alex Riley backstage.

[Incidentally, are you aware it was she not he who started the “Yes, yes, yes!” chants? Not in a wrestling ring; beneath the bleachers with her high school football team.]

Going through the rest of the list, the Samoan’s first name is Jonathan so, obviously, he was doomed since birth. As for Punk, we now have irrefutable proof his initials stand for “Certified Moron.” And we can’t forget now-hitched Miz–try though we might. I guess it’s up to me to refresh the current crop of bonebenders on The Rules Of Handling Hussies.

*As they say at Arlington Cemetery, get a lot while you’re young. Since it can be tiring, you can always catch up on your sleep during an Eric Young match, just like everyone else does.

*Pretend you’re letting ring rats in on a big personal piece of private info, your real name–but always give them a fake one. I usually use “Jeremy Borash.”

*Get the tramps to drive you around, and tell them how much you miss home-cooked meals. Being they are women and thus not too bright, they’ll fall for this ruse, saving you a bundle on rental cars and having to buy them dinner.

*Ditch a bitch the moment she turns 24. They’re pretty much worn (and stretched) out by then, and that’s about the age they start getting foolhardy notions, such as thinking that doing your laundry is no longer a privilege, or it actually registers when a girl casts an election vote. Exception: the Turn-24 Rule is out the window if it’s a rich MILF who owns a liquor store or a Nashville-based wrestling promotion.

*There’s nothing wrong with having a wife–as long as its someone else’s. It’s far more advantageous to be familiar with OPP than with DDP.

*A true gentleman will always remove his hat before telling a young lady “I’m only here to tap that ass, so shut up and get undressed, you stupid slut.”

*ABSOLUTELY dodge every opportunity to meet the tootsie’s family members. Unless she’s got a hot sister into threesomes.

*Google “photos, nude shaved teen girls” to assure yourself the world is stocked with millions of easy young skanks willing to do anything for attention, therefore only a total jackass settles for just one.

*If you do meet twin gold-diggers, remember the slogan “Both or neither.” If you are going to get raked over the coals for all you’re worth, may as well get some kinky fantasies out of the way along the way. I recommend starting with “One in a devil’s outfit, the other in a nun’s habit” before moving on to trickier turf like “Tijuana trapeze act” and “Human Chinga.”

*Thinking a girl is only good for one thing is sooo 1990s. Besides the boudoir bouncing, some of them are really gifted at running a vacuum cleaner and caring for the dog while you’re away banging some other slut. Just don’t give them your eBay password. You know how they love to shop.

*UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES should you ever ball your hand up into a fist and slug a woman. I really shouldn’t have to tell anyone this, considering it’s just plain common-sense thinking, even if you were brought up in the Great Lakes region. How is it going to reflect on you, a big strong guy, belting a hundred-pounder?

Wake up, Jacob–slugging a woman leaves tell-tale marks. When a ho is flapping her yap until you can’t stand it anymore, take a deep breath, count to ten then clamp her in a hammerlock or figure four. She refuses to obey your command to stop creating so much clatter cooking you dinner while you’re watching the game? Gently approach with arms extended as though looking for a hug, then put her away with a sleeper hold.

See, not a single bruise on the bimbo!

*If a chick starts to prattle on about desiring “a real relationship,” tell her you want to give it some serious thought and thus need to step outside for a little fresh air to help think things through…then run like hell!!!

SS7–A Family’s Shame/A Quiz From A Wiz


In friendly Philadelphia, way back, when a “political radical” named Milton Street was making a lot of noise, blue-collar construction-worker types wore T-shirts and badges reading “Pave Milton Street.” About a half-mile from the Stately Estate exists a Garrett Road.

With that in mind, I propose combining the above with a current development, creating a rally to “Pave Garrett Bischoff.”

What can you say about a punk who spends more time topless than Velvet Sky in her day job (Oh, you didn’t know?)…other than “Would you please buy a goddamn shirt?”?

Yes, this goofus has the audacity to strut around bare-chested in the same locker area as Sensitive Scott Steiner–and not even realize how utterly ridiculous he looks. So, what does that tell you about the boy’s grasp on reality? Hell, I’ve seen better-constructed chests holding sunken treasure. Plus, the guys’ got more grease in his hair than a cross-eyed Jiffy Lube worker! And where did he get those sideburns, rob a grave at Graceland?

Well, at least the twit lives up to his initials–G.B. truly is a Gas Bag. Garbage, er, Garrett claims he wants to be a wrestler; yet, for guidance, he opts for that noted athlete known throughout the cosmos for his unmatched versatility, breathtaking aerials and legendary matwork…HULK HOGAN??? That’s like going to a camel jockey for swimming lessons!!!

Let’s see, Garrett, you want to find a quality instructor with an extraordinary record in that regard; so you turn to the man who taught Nick Hogan how to drive. Absolutely brilliant. It’s just too bad Jeffrey Dahmer’s not still around to offer you cooking classes. While you’re at it, maybe you can consult Kim Kardashian on wedding planning.

Of course, the true tragedy here is the disgrace Garrett brings to the noble Bischoff name. As everyone knows, “Eric Bischoff” is synonymous with integrity, patience, tolerance and humility, everything that goes into making an ideal parent. I know this for a fact, because he’s told me repeatedly over the years.

[Yeah, the man is constantly phoning or dropping those Thinking Of You cards with personalized notes, thanking me for the years of critiques and suggestions, and seeking advice and life lessons in general. In all candor, the fawning can get a little embarrassing at times.]

Despite everything Eric has done to set a fine example for any growing lad, how has his son repaid him? First, by humiliating his entire lineage by becoming a referee, the most shameful job this side of the landscaping crew that is recruited to trim Triple-H’s nose hair. Then, Garrett has the gall not only to refuse to be a good son and double-cross Sting at Bound For Glory, but also to befriend Hulk Hohum.

Look, I can see pretending to respect Hogan as an angle to get a shot at tapping Brooke (another one constantly phoning me and mailing gifts.) However, this turncoat seems to actually admire the balding buffoon–even more than his own dad.

I ask you, how can anyone with a lick of sense like someone better than they do Ethical Eric Bischoff?

Eric, it’s time you took care of something you’ve put off for a long time due to your compassionate nature. Drag the brat into the Impact Zone ring, pull out those papers you’ve kept hidden all these years, reveal that Garrett is in fact adopted, disown him on the spot and demand a refund from the adoption agency.

Oh, and then KO the kid, bring in a tattoo artist and have him print “Jack” over the first five letters of the traitors “Bischoff” tat.

(I’ll pause for a moment for the stupider readers to figure that last bit out. “Durrr, J-A-C-K-O-F-F…oh, now I get it.”)

Part Two: The Larch

The typical wrestling fan probably hasn’t taken a multiple-choice test since flunking out of fourth grade. Tough. Here’s another one to spellbind your mind.

1. When I watched him on Celebrity Wife Swap, I wished Mick Foley would have:

a) shown his nifty eight-track tape collection.

b) shown the collection of gold bars stored in his massive vault.

c) dropped an elbow on Mrs. Sabato.

d) participated in Celebrity Wardrobe Swap.

2. I’m a fan of Eric Young because:

a) I dig that lumberjack beard.

b) His comedic genius rivals that of Rob Schneider.

c) I too have a crush on ODB.

d) I too am considered “mentally challenged.”

3. I miss Jesse Neal because:

a) He’s the only person who can make Shannon Moore look good by comparison.

b) I had a Mohawk back in 1978, when it was cool.

c) I don’t like my tax dollars going towards his food stamps.

d) Jesse who?

4. If I were Rey Misterio, I’d:

a) get another injury that would miraculously heal in time for Wrestlemania.

b) remove my mask and show the girls what a cutie I am.

c) remove my mask and show the girls why I wear one in the first place

d) do a picture-perfect springboard plancha–into the Grand Canyon.

5. When John Cena claims “You can’t see me,” I:

a) wave a hand in front of my face like an imbecile.

b) develop a sudden hunger for Fruity Pebbles.

c) ask my mom what is meant by “lady parts.”

d) thank the Lord for small favors.

6. If Stu Hart were to step in the ring today:

a) He would school three-quarters of the current wrestlers.

b) He wouldn’t do that well against today’s superstars.

c) It would be neat to see him screw Bret in Montreal.

d) I’d scream, “Jesus Christ, it’s a friggin’ zombie attack!!!!”

7. I wish Jim Ross would come back, because:

a) I never tire of hearing about Oklahoma athletics.

b) it’s always fun to hear someone beat a catchphrase to death.

c) it might get him to quit blogging.

d) the wrestling business just doesn’t have enough quality rappers.

8. What common phrase does Cody Rhodes most despise?

a) Beauty is only skin deep.

b) The check is in the mail.

c) Best wishes on future endeavors.

d) Who’s your daddy?

9. My favorite move is:

a) the tombstone piledriver.

b) the 450 splash.

c) the quebrada

d) heading to the snack bar as soon as I hear RVD’s entrance music.

10. CM Punk’s 2012 goal should be:

a) getting those ice cream bars in 7-11.

b) admitting ringer-style T-shirts are for dorks.

c) actually making any of those changes he promised back in June, 2011

d) reprise the “I’m leaving wrestling” angle…and never come back!!!

BONUS ROUND My personal greatest moment in wrestling is:

a) getting Howard Finkel’s autograph.

b) having dinner with the Bushwackers.

c) winning tickets to the 27th Final ECW Reunion.

d) winning an eBay auction of Christy Hemme’s panties.

(Can you believe Christy pulls down $27 for those things? To make up for the expense, I had to go a full week without …er, I mean, this friend of mine had to…oh, never mind.)