SS57—Manor Mends The Mat Game 2021

Pro wrestling was founded by shady characters of questionable morals bent on conning naïve rubes out of their money via rigged “fights.”  Everyone knows that.

Except diehard wrestling fans.

Wide-eyed bubble-dwellers who wandered into a biker bar and wanted to play hymns on the jukebox, it’s only natural that those who exist in a fantasy world of their own creation would be drawn to another make-believe environment, a comforting escape from the harsh  reality of otherwise being a full-time resident of Loser Land.

With the petulance of a two-year-old with ADD, it is little wonder they fly into a tizzy when even the most trivial occurrence poses a (minor) threat to the dreamscape they’ve created.

Unable to crawl back into the womb—the closest they’ll ever get to sex— to Nerdus Maximus and friends immersed in video games (fake world), comic books (fake world), and movies and TV shows about superheroes (fake world), pro wrestling is a perfect fit, as it too involves other people doing the dirty work while they do minimal exertion.

So, folks, what it breaks down to is this:  Wrestling itself is not “the big problem”; it’s who wrestling attracts. These delusional diehards are irreparable. But that doesn’t mean wrestling can’t be fixed to cleanse itself of that particular element.

*When Eric Bischoff took control of WCW, he phoned me—ME, not you—to get some input and advice.  One of the many things I told him and personally changed the industry as a whole was not to undervalue the cruiserweights.  Thus, I am solely responsible for the career success of Ultimo Dragon, Juvi, Eddie Guerrero, Dean Malenko, Chris Jerko and Rey Midgetstereo—though I apologize for the latter.

But all those men (except Rey) I single-handedly made stars went about 230 pounds, didn’t wear T-shirts to hide lousy physiques like yours, and were athletes rather than acrobats and fluorescent light-tube eaters.

Also, Eric called me roughly a quarter-century ago; and as excuse-makers love to bring up to validate something new and awful, “Wrestling evolves.”

In this case, exactly my point.

Since only the saddest no-lifers watch it anyway, sack the entire 205 Live roster and use the currently wasted airtime for something more entertaining.  You proponents of the dwarf-based promotions worship the bingo hall in Philadelphia—though you’ve never actually been to that dump—so, why not air some exciting bingo action from the Nantucket, RI, VFW post?  It has to be more engaging than Generic Can’t Cut A Promo versus Generic Flippy Guy With Beard.

And this ban on non-heavyweights is across the board, not just for the WWE.  All midgets must go!

That includes those on “the other channel,” such as The Jackson Two, Cringe Cassidy, Micro Stunt, Bunghole Boy, the Loser Brothers, and Private Parts. Let them find jobs they are better suited for, like stocking the lower shelves in grocery stores or modeling children’s clothing in Wal-Mart ads.  Perhaps act as Smurf stunt doubles.

At the very least, Kushida and Ricky Starks can find seasonal jobs building toys at Santa’s workshop, 

*Return to the non-fans attendance system.  What was better than the wildly overhyped Attitude Era?  The Stink-Free Era!

Being an insider—not someone who plays one on social media—I’ve spoken to many bonebenders, and they were unanimous in agreeing it was such a delight to no longer have to be administered oxygen after each match, to clear the audience body odor and unwashed-hair stench from their system.  Popular Seth Rollins told me “Every time Becky changes a dirty diaper, the smell reminds us of when you first do your entrance and get a whiff of the fans’ breath.”

The typically cretinous Chicago-based “fans” repeatedly performing lameass “CM Punk” chant during the thrilling August 2 RAW—the first one with the live crowd back—conclusively proved the “fanbase” is more useless than a pogo stick on a canoe ride.

I am not suggesting everyone be locked out of arenas.  That would be preposterous.  No, I’m saying…you know how you need a “vaccination passport” to get into restaurants, MSG concerts and the like?  To be allowed entry into a wrestling card, one must present a photo of them in the ring during another show.  This excludes the time you paid $90 to have your picture taken with Ricky Morton in a ring set up at a fan convention in Frogs Leap, Louisiana.

*One constant comment from the obsessed, being few have ever had an original thought, is “I wish RAW wasn’t three hours long.”  Putting aside the expected grammar error, I agree with the numbnuts!

RAW should be expanded to four hours

I, for one, greatly miss those 27-minute opening promos where one wrestler badmouths another until—surprise!—the insulted party comes to the ring to talk smack about the first person, who just stands there and takes it without ever even interrupting, let alone throwing a right hook.

I just adore the spontaneity of the pretend-boss interrupting the bickerers and scheduling a completely impromptu match between the tendon-tearers.  And by a stroke of pure luck, even though shows are generally formatted to the minute, that particular one has a spare 18 minutes to kill and accommodate the new match!

Another bonus to running another hour is how it creates an opening for the return of the most spellbinding in-ring interview segments in the sport’s history.

I am referring of course to the Live Stately States segment, hailed by all as far greater than Piper’s Pit on its best day.  For starters, the enormously overrated Roddy Piper couldn’t finish two sentences without doing that disgusting hiccup-inhale thing he used to do.  Let’s not conveniently forget the Scotsman was homophobic, clearly demonstrated by his cowardly sneak attack on guest Adrian Adonis.  His most famous targets?  A black midget, Jimmy Snuka and Mister T—all People Of Color  Do I really have to spell out what that means?

*In the earliest Olympic Games, wrestling was done in the nude.  This practice needs to be reinstated at once.

But only for the broads.

You can stop your “Stately is a sexist pig” cries right this minute, toots.  My record for supporting equality is unmatched.  In fact, I have boldly stated on Twitter that, when your old lady is doing your laundry, you should allow the chick to throw in some of her clothes as well.

I’m all for wrestling women.  It is public knowledge I try to wrestle women every chance I get.  So, don’t worry your pretty little head over me, sister.  You’d be much better-served trying to learn simple arithmetic so it doesn’t take you and “the girls” an hour to work out who pays what on a restaurant bill.

Anyway, naked honeys open up so many fresh possibilities.  A faction of Naomi, Bayley, Maria Kanellis and Marti Belle, their gimmick being they’re only shot from behind.  Nikki ASH being rebranded correctly this time, as Nikki ASS.  The female NWO—Nude Whore Order.

Special remixes of matches, edited to show the best views, if you know what I mean (and half of you don’t.)  A reality show wherein the gals frequently take long slow-motion showers and love to bounce on trampolines.

Breastlemania, All Hanging Out, Starrknakedcade, and Destination XXX would smash every existing pay-per-view buy rate…and give a whole new meaning to “hardcore.”

I hear you Pretend Puritans clucking away, acting as if you are repulsed by the idea.  In the meantime, you and your little buddies in the Three Inch Club have been having “tug team” circle jerks over Shotzi, Britt Baker and Thunder Rosa on a weekly basis all year.

*Being “woke” is a joke.  Bunch of sanctimonious snotballs playing holier-than-thou, feigning concern about whatever is Cause Of The Day as an excuse to pat themselves on the back.  These creatures are even worse than online gatekeepers!

At least imbeciles calling themselves @AEW24.7_69 and @SashaFeetSniffStan are easy to avoid.  Woke tools pop up every freakin’ where.  “Ooooh, look at me, I eat tofu instead of beef.”  Wait right there, the Pope wants to give you a medal.  (And, besides, those cows were asking for it.)

The biggest fix for wrestling today is to run off these pearl-clutching pansies and return to what the sport was built on—bad taste.

“Ethnicity- and race-baiting is not good,” says Sobbing Sally.  She’s right—it’s great.

Some of my earliest cherished memories include the real Rock, Don Muraco, calling Pedro Morales “a greaseball,” while, on another station, Tully Blanchard, taking a rare booking in the Northeast, was fearlessly running down the Spanish-speaking.

Holy shish kabob, they’re saying this on TV?!?  They sure were.  And tickets were flying out of the box office.  Wait, what’s this?  On a third channel, some white trash grappler was telling a Japanese competitor to “go make some egg rolls”?

In addition to moving tons of tickets, TV ratings completely blew away the meager numbers tallied today.  Hardly a coincidence.

Now, before anyone labels me a bigot for advocating the above, understand it certainly shouldn’t be only Causcasians ripping minorities.  Homeboys cutting up crackers is something I 100-percent endorse.

I want to see a black tag team claiming “You honkies suck at boxing, track, and basketball, and especially suck at wrestling.  And you can ask your sister about what else we’re better at…shorty,” while surrounded by fawning blondes.  And an Asian boasting “Sony took over Hollywood and Samsung rules TVs and phones.  Nobody buys a Ford or Chevy anymore.  So, whether you like it or not, we own all you round-eyes.”

Ethnicity-baiting is only one of the many “offensive” options.  Give me voluptuous skank valets constantly following their man’s orders and being put up for “maid service” if the heel loses.  Flip the switch and have a wrestler in the most universally acknowledged cringe position of all, the p-whipped husband or boyfriend.

Screw factions of, um, elite athletes. Wrestling needs a trio of obese slobs who scoff at working out and only win because they triple-team and are too fat for a worn-down foe to kick out on.

The WWE has the slickest production crew the sport has ever seen.  Yeah, and viewership has declined every year.  I need introduction videos that look like they were shot on a burner phone—because they were—with “the new people” getting out of parked jets, lounging by Olympic-size pools at plush mansions, all of which were obviously rented for the day.  The soundtrack is, of course, some song radio stations beat to death two years earlier.

 Also, the hell with Shaq, Bad Bunny, Snoop, Logan Paul et al, each being “some super-rich guy just picking up a paycheck.”  Replace them with that goofus taking over the limelight of Flo from Progressive, the hippie who holds the Guinness World Record for eating Big Macs, and a once-popular singing act with none of its original members.  Why have wealthy celebrities when you can have poor celebrities?

On a related note, if yours truly was “some super-rich guy,” I’d introduce Ambush The Assholes.   It goes like this.

Find the most overbearing, preachy public figures around, being sure they have no interest in wrestling whatsoever.  Promise them some live TV time to talk up their latest project, world hunger, the homeless, or whatever other hopeless cause they are “deeply concerned about” (at the moment.)

Before the show, in an empty arena, demonstrate how the various blows are “fake” and harmless.  Seconds before they are about to walk the aisle on the live show, it’s “Oh, geez, we never got your signature on the standard contract, handing them a thick legal document with the buried clause “the promotion will not be responsible for any injuries.”  

Then, about 62 seconds into their speech, have a four-person run-in and stomp the living tar out of the jiveass.

Week after week, destroy the likes of Bono, Tucker Carlson, Whoopi Goldberg, Paul McCartney, Jenny McCarthy…it will be the best TV to ever air! 

Lawsuits?   Meh, remember, this is based on being super-rich.  (That’s how you get to be booker now, right?)  If I have to pay Fred Durst a million smackers because he can’t “sing” anymore, that’s money well spent. 

Just imagine the magic of the moment when the announcer bellows “The Four Horsewomen have reformed—and they’re beating up Taylor Swift!!!”

Naturally, you’d have to mix it up so it doesn’t get too repetitive.   Like have all the girls take turns superplexing Khloe Kardashian through a table, or a Road Warriors salute in which Neil Young takes four Doomsday Devices.  The men in the ring have a contest to determine who can best chokeslam Howard Stern.  The possibilities are endless!

SS34–Stately Shoots His Mouth Off

When one has been on the newsstands worldwide for decades nonstop, as I have, the requests pour in on a daily basis.

“Sign with our studio, and we’ll cast you as the next James Bond.”  “LeBron really wants you as point guard/captain this season.”  “Come join our bleeding band and we’ll change our name to Stately Wayne Manor And The Rolling Stones, mate.”

But the most recurrent plea is “It would be a great honor and thrill for all of us wrestling fans if you would do one of those shoot interviews.”

Truth be told, I resisted for quite some time, highly concerned some may mistake me for a braggart.  However, BS Video allowed me to choose my interviewer, so I went with the renowned Shemp Wally Macbeth, who sooooo is not me in disguise, even though we happen to have vaguely similar initials.

And remember, children, just like with the ones you’ve already seen, you should always believe every word in a shoot interview, because people who convincingly fib in front of a camera for a living would NEVER do so away from an arena.

The following is a sampling of some of the topics discussed, the full video “dropping” on September 31st.

Within the wrestling business

Shemp:  What do you consider your greatest among the hundreds of your contributions to professional wrestling?

SWM:  I introduced the letter “s” to the business.  Before I became a huge global influence, “s” was never used.  People would go to see Bruno Ammartino managed by Arnold Kalund, facing Upertar Graham, and the tag team the Amoan, at Madion Quare Garden.  In fact, until I came along, the sport was known as pro wretling.

If you don’t believe me, go ask the star and director of all those Rocky movies.  He was known as Ylveter Tallone prior to my entering the bonebending biz.

S:  I understand you made your first million creating characters for the big national promotions.  How did that work?

SWM:  I’d come up with concepts for guys who were just coming into a company, to give the newbies something to concentrate on and polish on the road before they were actually introduced on TV.  Between my concept and the TV debut, they were sometimes tweaked a teeny-weeny bit.

S:  You are undoubtedly the most creative person ever to step foot in a locker room.  I’d also say most influential man behind the scenes.  Tell us some of your amazing characters, O Dazzling One.

S:  Even though these got changed a smidge, I still got the dough because I had the copyrights.  So I’ve made a bucket of bucks on the coffee king Brewer Brody, painted-face cheapskate Stingy, shoe-gazing emo wrestler The Underachiever, R&B singer Terr Funky, Dork The Clown (which I believe some guy named Frankie is still using), aging hippie Stoned Old Steve Houston, hot female grappler Braless Lesnar, mathematician Kurt Rightangle, Canadian burrito salesmen The Fart Foundation and their friend Taco Santana…just too many to list, really.

S:  You are also known for many brilliant innovations on the actual in-ring-wrestling end of things.  Would you kindly name a few, sir?

SWM:   Well, let’s see.  I invented the figure-one leglock, the 450 hair-pull, working from the horizontal base, the tombstone eye-gouge, the cross-windbreaker, the adequate kick, the Greco-Roman groin-punch, and the shooting star bite, among others.  And because I came from a background in music and also revolutionized that art form, I hold the trademark on the term “The Innovator Of Violins.”

Away from the ring, I’m legendary for the night I kicked the ass of Rick Rude, Steve Williams, the Road Warriors and Haku.

S:  I knew you are a legitimate badass, but those are the toughest guys to ever lace up the boots—and you beat them all at once.  Amazing!

SWM:  Well, I did have hotels on Boardwalk and Park Place.

S:  Speaking of men who had lucrative careers in Japan, before it became the “in” thing a couple of years ago, you not only were a super-expert on Japanese wrestling but also did outstanding color commentary on some videos.

SWM:  Yes, decades before that Mauro “I SCREAM EVERY FREAKING WORD” Rinaldi and Good Old J.O. were doing it.  We’re talking 1987, back when a future legend on one of the tapes was known as The Just Okay Muta.  In fact, Bam Bam Bigelow And Friends, my unmatched debut, was number one on the sales chart for 27 consecutive weeks, outselling Beverly Hills Cop II and Full Metal Jacket.

Not in the United States, but in Liechtenstein and Inner Mongolia.

In private life

S:  You are known within wrestling as a “master swordsman,” a real panty-dropper with the ladies.  Without going into graphic detail, will you drop a few names?

SWM:  Ever heard of Trish Stratus, Victoria, Alicia Fox, Stacy Keibler, Dixie Carter, Lillian Garcia, Mae Young, and Christy Hemme?

S:  Of course.

SWM:  Well, so have I.  Next question.

S:  That is so cool!!!  Wait, Mae Young?

SWM:  I said “Next question”!

S:  Everyone knows you’re a god, an earthbound deity.  What is your religious affiliation?

SWM:  I’m an atheist…but not practicing.

S:  I understand the Pope (the one in Vatican City, not the horrible TNA commentator) got extremely upset about something you once said.

SWM:  That was when I announced I’m bigger than Jesus Christ.  Jesus couldn’t hold a candle to me.  If he tried, it would fall through the hole in his hand. Can’t understand why the Poop just doesn’t admit it and move on.

The Pope.  Isn’t he the goof who makes decrees about marriage, birth control and sex even though he’s never been on a date?  Hey, that gives him something in common with 90-percent of the wrestling fans!

Word association

S:  I’m going to throw out some names, Perfect Master.  Please supply one-line reactions to each.

Mick Foley

Now dying his beard with chimney soot.

The New Day

When you think of what body part “booty” represents and, in turn, what a booty-O can only be, do you really want to put them in your mouth?

Enzo Amore

Enzo A Moron

Big Cass

Big JackCass

Josh Mathews

The brain of Family Guy’s Chris Griffith and the body of Stewie.  (begins singing) B-b-b-b-b-bah, everybody’s heard about the nerd.  Nerd nerd nerd, nerd is the word.

Ric Flair

He used to raise the bar but now he just runs up a huge tab in it.

Sami Zayn

A fraud.

How do you mean?

He’s supposed to have been the big king of the indies, yet I’ve never once seen him take on El Generico.  Same way that Ricochet is dodging Prince Puma now.

Hulk Hogan

Went from the NWO to the KKK.

Bill Apter

You know that classic Santana song “Oye Como Va”?

Uh-huh.

Apter sings a version called “Oy, my comb-over.”

Golden Truth

Old and Goof

Becky Lynch

Mostly red, not over.

Sasha Banks

Not sure she’s really Snoop’s cousin, but she’s definitely a member of the Dogg family.  More like Sasha Barks!  woof-woof

Public interaction

S:  What would you advise a new wrestler wondering how to treat interaction with the fans?

SWM:  Antibiotics.

S:  What do you think would be the single best course of action when it comes to the so-called Internet Wrestling Community?

SWM:  Nothing a little genocide can’t fix.  One of my current projects is:  I’m putting together video clips of IWC idiots whining like little girls and making utter fools of themselves.  It’s going to be called Bitchamania.

S:  I understand you got tricked into joining one of those Facebook wrestling groups.  What’s your opinion of them?

SWM:  I call it wrestling cosplay.  Bunch of nobodies getting together to fantasize they’re somebodies in wrestling even though they’ve never been involved in it at any level.

“I put out a newsletter with 137 readers 25 years ago. That makes me an expert.” “I’m a wrestling expert, too!  My qualifications are: I run a rinky-dink coffee shop with seven employees and collect potato chips.”

“Gee whiz, that’s so awesome. I would blow Gedo if I was ever in the same room!” “Let’s get together and ridicule every single aspect of Raw each Monday and take cheap shots at TNA all week.  We’re HUGE supporters of wrestling.”

Yeah, that’s really cool, kids.

Of course, Twitter has some real winners, too.  That’s why I only allow a few hundred wrestling fans to Follow me and block the ones who keep bugging me to Follow them back.  Anyone know who this @LanceStorm is?  What a nuisance.

S:  You’ve been known to mock podcasts and…

SWM:  Only the amateur ones, which means nearly all of them.

S:   So, you would do one with Colt Cabana?

SWM:  One thing I really can’t stand is people who use obviously fake names.