SS54—Social Media Wrestlingese Codes Revealed!

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Professional wrestling has long had its own language and codes—and it appears that wrestling fans have followed suit.  If you are new to social media outlets covering wrestling (or even a veteran on the scene, for that matter), here is a glossary of common expressions, along with their REAL meanings.

 

*”S/he is better off staying in NXT.”  Working for less money is a blast.  That’s why I’m sticking to running the french-fryer instead of trying to be assistant manager at my Wendy’s job.

*”That balcony dive onto a burning table was awesome!!!”  I pretend to “love” wrestlers, but couldn’t give a crap about the permanent damage they suffer.  The only thing that matters is entertaining me.

*”Dave Meltzer doesn’t have any sources.”  I, on the other hand, have loads of insider info I get by reading sites that copy their “news” directly from Dave Meltzer.

*”(Disliked person) is an old man.”  I righteously make public stands against racism and sexism—primarily, to look cool.  Ageism?  I am fine with that…boomer.

*”MJF is a tremendous heel.”  I define a heel as someone to cheer for because he’s fun and doesn’t really mean anything he says.  A heel shouldn’t do anything that makes people hate them.  In other words, I’m as clueless as a popsicle salesman in Antarctica.

*”I missed CM Punk.”  I missed being conned by CM Punk, the multi-millionaire who sued his “best friend” and pretend-rebel who changed absolutely nothing about the business.

*”Impact Wrestling has been a joke for years.”  I’ve never actually watched it, but I’ll cheer the hell out of the Lucha Brothers and LAX now that they’re with AEW.  And, hey, that Eli Drake is the best talker on NWA Powerrr!

*”Ratings do matter to fans, because ratings are a barometer of the health of the industry.”  I’m just repeating an excuse devised by someone smarter than me, while, in reality, I only care that my favorite promotion is “beating” their rival, so I can gloat about it.  Also, the lower the RAW viewership, the better I feel.  I’d like to see the WWE go out of business.  Screw the 900 people losing their jobs.

*”The Attitude Era ruled!”  Wasn’t watching WWE then.

*”The NWO was too sweeeet!”  Wasn’t watching WCW then.

*”Rey Mysterio is the greatest luchador ever.”  Never heard of Lizmark, Atlantis, Perro Aguayo, Dos Caras, Karloff Legarde, Santo, Blue Demon, etc. because they weren’t on Lucha Underground.  [Thinks Triple-A is a roadside assistance service.]

*”50-50 booking sucks.”  Everyone I like should never lose and all the wrestlers I hate should never win.  Never mind that mean the only serious contenders will be other undefeated wrestlers, then one will have to lose in the end.  Oh, wait.

[Closely related to…]

*It’s so unfair ____ is getting buried.”  My favorite lost one televised match.  I have no access to the long-term booking plans but will just shoot my mouth off like a spoiled brat.

*”I was only joking.”  I totally wasn’t but am saying this because I got busted over something idiotic I earlier claimed.

*”The women should have been in the main event.”  Maybe a real live girl will see this and LIKE ME!  Then she’ll become my official girlfriend and and and I’ll finally get kissing by someone besides Grandma Jenkins.  Whoa, all the other guys will think we’re actually “doing it”!!!

*”sports entertainers”  My condescension for those who don’t have 352 moves and dives stolen from Mexico and Japan has no limit.  But I’ll cheer a guy dressed as a dinosaur taking on an invisible man who kicked out after a hand grenade attack.  That’s different.  The dinosaur did a 450 twisting springboard tope makiwara off a 60-foot ladder.

*”Mauro is the greatest.”  Shouting catchphrases and a long prepared list of pop culture and hip-hop references to get YOURSELF over is a play-by-play announcer’s role.  Even though he vanity searches and calls detractors “troglodytes” and such, never ever call him names.

*”organic”  A mega-pushed talent I like, otherwise I’d be whining about them being shoved down our throats—even though they are getting the same amount of airtime and high-profile matches as Roman Reigns did when he was being shoved down our throats.

*(female wrestler’s or commentator’s name) followed by heart and flames emojis.  Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, a new girl to drool over as I rub my wee-wee under the sheets each night!  I’m going to tag her in Tweets and call her “Queen.”  Don’t know what I’d do if she flirted back.

I mean that literally, since no woman has ever shown interest in my lard ass.

[Often followed by…]

*”(female wrestler) is so overrated.”  My cream dream Blocked me on Twitter after my Tweet asking if she’d sell me her dirty panties.

*”_____ of all time.”  (Most frequently used with lists such as The Top Ten Brawlers Of All Time.)  Since I became a fan, because I’m too self-centered to recognize great things occurred before I got interested.

*”The @NWA has the most perfect show ever, #NWAPowerrr. @Billy and @Lagana are geniuses!!!!!! #IntoTheFire”  I am desperately trying to get my name onscreen during the pre-show crawl of flattering posts.  This is the only shot I’ll ever have of getting on TV, until my arrest for trying to have sex with a 14-year-old.

*”I met _____ and s/he is really cool.”  I stood in line for twenty minutes to pay for an autograph, and s/he didn’t call me a sucker to my face during the three seconds it took to sign.

*”(Promotion) should sign (Wrestler X, Y and Z.)”  I don’t even begin to comprehend how budgets work or care if a company turns a profit.  I also have no comprehension of how time works, and thus demand these three and the existing 57 roster members get many minutes on a two-hour show.

*”outlaw mudshow”  A rare few who actually understand what the expression means and its origin throw it around, so I will, also.  Okay, I’m too lazy to research what it means.  But, luckily, so are 98-percent of my fellow geeks impressing each other with our vast knowledge of insider terms.  It’s like a signal to each other, saying “I’m cool and in the know, too, dude.”

*”Wrestling has evolved.”  My all-purpose excuse for blowing off valid criticism from anyone over age 35.  Somewhere around 2015, this big invisible ray from outer space completely changed human nature, so things like “good guy gets revenge on evildoer” no longer register with anyone.

[Often uttered while the latest superhero movie is grossing hundreds of millions.]

*According to Reddit user”  “There’s a sucker born every minute” was never any more true than at the moment of my birth.  Why not trust an anonymous individual with no credentials to validate any claim he makes?

*”I’ve watched 36 hours of wrestling so far this week.”  My life is so empty, this is the one thing that stops me from crying myself to sleep.

Sometimes.

SS50—The Man Who Saved The World(WE)

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The Road To Wrestlemania and its related hype get WWE fans excited about certain matches; however, overall interest in the product as a whole has been in decline, as reflected in record-low TV viewership numbers.

“Superstar Shakeups” have had no lasting effect.  And some pundits have wondered if eliminating the brand split will cure the woes.

But wrestling is a character-driven sport, and no change in the structure is going to reverse the spiral.  Just as in previous booms, the WWE needs an individual to lead it back to the Promised Land.

This man must possess the versatility the modern market demands, top-level communication skills, major-league experience and proven fan appeal.  Am I suggesting they bring back Stoned Old Steve Austin?  Somebody give me a “Hell, no.”

There is only one available athlete who checks all the above boxes, possesses the necessary youth and lacks the overexposure of Austin, Goldbrick and fellow has-beens.

Manormaniacs, I present to you the charismatic individual who can not only resurrect the WWE, but also save wrestling across the board.

That man is Damien Sandow.

Before you give me a well-deserved standing ovation, please absorb all the details.  Because The Miz has turned into The Miss since marrying that Canadian chick and becoming a whipped wimp changing diapers in his high heels and Wonder Bra, Damien will NOT be returning as “Mizdow.”

No, no, no; no more carrying the Cleveland Clown and distracting audiences from Frog Face’s many weaknesses.

The Savior is far too versatile to be stuck in one role.  In fact, my long-time dear friend David Bowie dropped by the Manor Mansion to catch Sandow vs Cena on RAW and remarked “I wish I had the ability to change personas as well as this remarkable Damien fellow does.”

This time around, the bonebender’s chameleon-like qualities will be utilized to their fullest.  Be awestruck picturing the following scenarios over the next two years.

 

The WWE is presenting RAW in the loser capitol of North America, Chicago.  As per usual, the local yokels chant for their hometown zero—but this time, things go very differently.  Suddenly, “The Cult Of Personality” blares over the sound system.  And as the crowd collectively wet their panties, out comes OH, MY GOD, HE’S HERE—C.M. Punkdow.

Punkdow sits on the stage, holding a symbolic pipe—a tobacco pipe, that is—and rattles off a list of “woe is me” petty gripes about the temperature of the mashed potatoes in catering, his chauffeur insisting he wear a seat belt, and the state taxing country club membership fees.

Then it’s time to really “shoot.”  Punkdow has had it up to here with the business that’s made him a famous millionaire, and is going to see to it that all wrestlers get free health coverage, their road expenses covered, annual vacations, double-payment for working on holidays “…and the formation of the best damn union this country has ever seen!”

None of which he has even the slightest intention of ever actually doing.

Due to CM’s “extended absence,” the WWE decides to refresh fans’ memories via weekly video clips.  The first three are:  Punkdow being thrown off a rodeo bull before the gate is even opened; him becoming the first person to score a zero in Super Mario Party; and, hidden camera footage of the “straight-edge superstar” and very vocal vegan puffing on a joint while at a McDonald’s drive-thru window.

 

The Nature Dow.  The “Rolex-stealing, limousine-kissing son of a bitch” is in the best shape of his life.  Everything seems to be going right for the “sixteen-times married” veteran.  Fans love his entrance and trademark “Whoa!”  But every time the ring announcer introduces his opponent, Naitch starts crying, forcing each match to be ruled a No Contest.

Pressed on this backstage by Charly Caruso (who’s also in love with me), The Nature Dow vows to work on overcoming this issue, begins trembling and excuses himself, dashing to his dressing room.

Concerned, Charly waits outside the door.  Ten minutes later, it opens, and instead of The Nature Dow, out comes Tommy Dreamdow, clutching a kendo stick in one hand and a cannoli in the other.

This stunning transformation is indeed effective. The Innovator Of Violins is now capable of competing, each match ending with (A.) him losing as per usual and (B.) a teary-eyed speech announcing “my retirement, effective immediately.”

Which he repeats every night from the very next one through to SummerSlam, including throughout the WWE’s 36-city European tour.

 

What’s next for the dynamic Damien?  Time to try out a number of short-term gimmicks.  There’s…

*Matt Jackdow, who wants to be thought of as a fun-loving free spirit but is, in reality, a hypersensitive twit who spends nine hours daily vanity-searching his name on social media, getting butthurt when someone doesn’t fawn over him.

[backstage]

Zack Ryder:  I prefer ketchup over mustard on hot dogs.

Matt Jackdow:  Hmm, that’s interesting.

[Zack walks away.  Matt pulls out his phone, Blocks Zack on Twitter.]

*Dwayne Johnsdow  Cuts an in-ring promo that’s just a string of sorely outdated catchphrases, finishing with “The Crock says this.  The WWE is my home, and I’m never leaving again.”

Does no more appearances thereafter.

*Brie Belldow. Groundbreaking WWE’s first transgender competitor wears a Dow Mode shirt and booty shorts, but never wrestles or speaks—which makes him waaaaay better than that other Brie.

*Color commentator Corey Gravedow  Finds the worst-fitting suit Goodwill has to offer, vacillates between being a heel and a babyface a dozen time per match, and never says anything of consequence.

No one at home notices the difference between him and the adulterer he replaced.

*Indie sensation Zackdow Osprey, Junior  The bell sounds, he flips, rolls, somersaults, does a 720 dive off the top into a series of cartwheels around the entire ring, and rebounds off all four ropes into a triple-handspring, for two minutes non-stop, gets dizzy and immediately pinned.

*Reverend Hacksaw Jim Duggdow  Rather than the friendly patriot of his predecessor, Rev. Duggdow is a self-righteous religious zealot toting a Bible in place of a 2×4.  His pre-match ritual is pointing out a stylishly dressed woman in the crowd and shouting “You’re a ho-o-o-o.”

 

All of the above are but merely a warm-up for when Damian goes for the Big Kahunas.  First up is….

Hulk Hodow

Imagine the classic confrontations HH2 will have with the current members of the WWE roster.

Praising impromptu tag partner Nakamura:  “I fought alongside a lot of gooks when I was a Green Beret in Vietnam.  Maybe we can go to Chinatown after our victory.  You like-y shlimp flied lice?”

Hogdow to Rey Mysterio:  “I loved Eddie Guerrero as much as you did.  In fact, I love all beaners, dude.  They’re great at cutting my lawn, brother.

“You know something, Mean Mysterio?  We never had a match.  I say we hook it up—once you show me your green card, little man.  Whatcha gonna do when ICE agents run wild on you?”

Hulk Hodow will have an extended run, until he’s indefinitely suspended for refusing to tag in during a six-man match against The New Day.  (Because…well, you know.)

But what supreme hero of men, women and children can Damien transform into next?  Who is the one man whose achievements dwarf that of not only the Hulkster but also of every grappler ever to set foot in any ring, any promotion, any date, anywhere?  An iconic ringmaster every single fan loves more than life itself?  The personification of achieving the ultimate reward for hard work?

HOLY CRAP, IT’S IT’S IT’S TRIPLE-M!!!!!

Our television sets will never be the same.  As it turns out, Munter Mearst Melmsley is married to Vince McMahon’s heretofore unacknowledged other daughter, Bethany—a connection the Cerebral Ass is not above making well-known, including spraying champagne out of his mouth while on the ring apron, pre-match.

In a move that would make Dusty Rhodes proud, every promo, including those by the women and two weirdoes on the Sonic ads, will contain a mention of Triple-M’s unmatched influence, charm and rugged good looks.

Renee Young will finally contribute something to RAW, by lustfully purring her new catchphrase “What a hunk!” before fainting every time the Tripper is within sight.

This completely sincere and not just protecting their jobs adulation will crescendo at Wrestlemania 37, when MMM and Bethany perform a 45-minute entrance, an elaborate thematic mix of Game Of Thrones, Thor Ragnarok and The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie.