SS56—Mat This ‘n’ That/I’m Back, Jack

To the tearful dismay of the masses, it’s been quite some time since Wrestling’s Only Unbiased Columnist posted a fresh Stately States.  Rejoice, girls and buoys, I have returned, to once again be The Rage Of The Digital Page.

I was going to continue last column’s theme, explaining how self-described “REAL Wrestling Fans” are less useful than sunscreen on a scuba diver, and such imbeciles they think a salad bar is where lettuce goes to get drunk and fishcake is what they serve on birthdays at Sea World.

But since there’s so much to cover, I’m going to opt for something I used to do in my Power Slam column, stringing together brief thoughts on recent developments.

For the unaware, PS was published in England from 1994 to 2014, I being the only member of the writing staff onboard for the full 20 years, penning Manor’s Mat Musings.   This is not to be confused with the newish UK mag wherein Mat Musings was STOLEN, its far-inferior author and gutless publisher rudely ignoring my inquiries about the blatant rip-off—twice.

Musings logo MINE

Accept no substitutes.

First, a quick quiz:

Who are The. Worst. Fans. Ever?  You make the call.

A.  Doesn’t live-tweet a single sporting event the rest of the week but will do so when a certain wrestling show is in progress to “subtly” prove he’s not watching it.

B,  Constantly opines “The WWE’s current product is abysmal,” brings it up daily, then one day casually notes “I haven’t watched it in ten years.”  (Probably lying, anyway.) 

C,  The malcontent who rips on WWE non-stop but has a podcast or YouTube show solely dependent upon viewing content on—where else?—the WWE Network.

Now, onto the ramblings.

If Chris Jericho came down the aisle with Ralphus now, could anyone tell them apart?  Defeating Jerko in that champagne pool match has done wonders for Orange Julius, er, Cassidy.  Now when they say “He sells a lot of T-shirts,” it means he’s working at the merch table….Where are all the “Ronda didn’t pay any dues” moaners when it comes to Dominik Mysterio?  I’m waiting for Rey’s daughter to begin wrestling so I can claim “She moves in Mysterio ways.”  Because I’m a freaking genius….The makeover has exposed that Ruby is much hotter than Sasha WHO IS MARRIED AND WILL NEVER GET WITH YOU, SO QUIT DROOLING OVER HER, LOSER….Must be exciting being a fresh team in AEW.  You get the biggest hype imaginable, for four straight weeks—before losing to the Bucks and getting relegated to midcard limbo.  Which has happened to EVERY SINGLE TEAM.

Let me see if I have all this straight.  Certain championship matches every few months require a contract signing but all the other matches don’t.  Those in certain sensitive circles get upset when someone uses “IWC” to describe them.  All the while calling themselves the Wrestling Community.  Which is what the “WC” in “IWC” represents.  Tony Khan’d playing a rich creep on “purchased” Impact time does not contradict the whole “He will never play a character on television” because it’s on Impact rather than Dynamite.  And people gleefully paid to see Joey Ryan have others fondle his junk (and encouraged more of such antics) yet allegedly never suspected the man is a little odd.  Enablers turned virtue signalers sure like to play dumb.

face palm MONTAGE VVVG

Isn’t it odd how Zelina Vega never expressed a single care about a wrestlers’ union until she got fired?  Weird coincidence, huh?…It says a lot about fraud Josh Matthews when being replaced by Matt Striker is considered an upgrade…. Reby Hardy has many important connections.  Perhaps one day she’ll introduce Matt to hair conditioner….I hear Shayna Baszler is determined to lick every woman in the WWE locker room.  Even if it means hopping on them in the showers!  Some aren’t going to take that lying down….Did you know, on Halloween 2019, Micro Stunt trick-or-treated in a suit of armor, but people kept mistaking him for a fire hydrant?…Unconfirmed, but I’m hearing reports that there was one 24-hour period in which Jim Ross didn’t release a public statement concerning the opinion or history of Jim Ross….Gary Heltz of Pine Bluff, Arkansas, will be missing 205 Live next week.  There goes half their viewership.

All these weeks with Smackdown not having a live audience.  A shame they didn’t also go without a live color commentator….Ever notice Tom Phillips has the same initials as “toilet paper”?  That may be why Samoa Joe told me Phillips is an asswipe….The Grizzled Young Veterans keep the company’s streak going—the streak of Worst Ring Names Ever.  Empress Of Tomorrow, Forgotten Sons, Genius Of The Sky, Archer Of Infamy, Authors Of Pain:  Will whichever comic-book nerd who came up with this dross please explain to me how an era can be “undisputed”?… Mia Jax yells “My hole,” and is instantly transformed into the darling of the IWC—who had ripped her mercilessly since about nine minutes after her debut.  Then again, for 83 percent of those gits, it was the first—and last—time they ever heard a woman reference an orifice below the waist….”Elimination Chamber” sounds like something NASA came up with to name a space station toilet.

If you’re wondering where Jimmy Uso has been, he’s opened a driving school with Jeff Hardy and Nick Hogan.  Putting the “high” in “highway”….I’m delighted to see Naomi’s back.  She looks great from that angle….Hearing rumors about an all- Lana-fan cable channel.  Instead of “television,” it’s going to be called “Incelevision”….Taz’s “wearing shades inside” thing is really cool—if it’s 1967 and you’re the lead singer of Steppenwolf….I am looking forward to the Impact episode in which Tommy Dreamer performs a teary retirement speech.  I bet it will be better than the 47 he’s done before.

Okay, that’s enough.

If you love this column, signify by purchasing two cups at https://ko-fi.com/manormania

If you hate this column, signify by purchasing three cups at https://ko-fi.com/manormania

…although you’re probably too cheap to do either.

SS51–YouTube Boobs

Want to win a pair of tickets to Wrestlemania?  Airfare, front-row seats and a meet-and-greet for any All Elite Wrestling or Ring Of Honor event in the United States?  A deluxe prize package allowing you to attend a New Japan show IN PERSON?

You’ll get none of those here.  But, since the first few sentences of each column appear when I post the link on social media, I figured I could lure in a few saps with the above.

Welcome, suckers!

But don’t pout.  Because you do earn the greatest prize of all:  The opportunity to read my words.

Even if you do need some help with the bigger ones.

For the rare unaware, there is no disputing the well-documented fact I am the Mat Messiah.  It’s mentioned repeatedly in my autobiography.

Sure, there are a bunch of little twerps opining on their YouTube channels—and getting about 20 cents a week for their monetized accounts.  FYI, YT pays an average of $38 a day…if you get SIX-HUNDRED-THOUSAND hits per month.  Yeah, right, as if any of the whine-and-cheesers come remotely close to that.

As per https://influencermarketinghub.com/youtube-money-calculator/

YouTube views money HIGHLIGHTED calculator stats

Ask yourself this:  How many of the self-proclaimed hotshots have ever convinced a total stranger to pay them to express opinions?  And not just once, but rather on a regular salaried basis.

Answer:  Zero.

I’ve succeeded at it for 30 years, and have six figures in both my bank and mutual fund accounts, as well as owning a fully paid-for house and two cars, Jackson.  And before you moan “Yeah, but you got that from working a regular job,” let me add:   Nope, haven’t had one of those since 1990.  Gained all my goodies by being the King Of Columnists.

Besides getting paid—a LOT—I have also brought women to orgasms—making that two things the wannabes never achieved.

I also bathe and wear clean clothes daily, have a 32” waist, own T-shirts in colors other than black, and can talk about more than one topic—even more for the yo-yos to catch up to me on.

Imagine how delusional the Tuber Turds must be, not only believing their babbling bellyaching has a molecule of validity, but also that people want to see them.  Jumping G-zuss, most of these bearded bozos look like the inside of a discarded diaper with a Brillo pad stuck to it.

Ever notice how they’re usually only seen from the blubbery waist up?  That’s so you can’t see what their hands are up to beneath the table.  Hint:  They’re bare down there.

(And need tweezers to do it.)

White Urkel, sometimes joined by a bulbous blob, spouting non-stop negativity to a flock of trained parrots who also can’t offer up a single constructive idea, having never had one.  Now THERE’S something I really want to witness—never.

At least there’s one upside to these series of tired tirades.  We can’t smell the practitioners.

According to an Environmental Protection Agency report, every time the organizers flung open the doors to air out the stench at Nerdstock, er, Starrcast, the fumes melted another iceberg.

It is a known fact, whenever one of these geek gatherings is in town, the hotels suspend laundry service, knowing none of the guests will ever request it.  Then, of course, they have to fumigate each of the beds once the dorks depart.  Naturally, the sheets are tossed into the incinerator, as it’s too difficult to get all those flatulence-induced skidmarks off them.

I wonder how many of the Tuber Tubbies return home to discover their entire family has moved to another state and left no forwarding addresses.  Oh, well, at least when the “important wrestling personalities” return to work, the Arby’s manager will hook them up with new uniforms.

Can’t have an “influential internet star” cleaning the toilets in the NJPW shirt he’s been wearing all week!

What’s that, buffalo breath?  You have a YouTube channel and take exception to being described as a mouthy malcontent who has less knowledge of the stretchin’ profession that a three-toed sloth does of Sir Isaac Newton’s take on soft-boiled eggs?

Well, then, Mister “I Actually Think I Look Really Cool In My Profile Picture, Wearing A Headset Any Schmoe Can Buy On Amazon,” let me put it another way.  I was going to list the name of everyone who understands more about wrestling than you do, but the WordPress word limit prohibits me from naming every person on the planet.

Your tenuous grasp of the bonebending business is only matched by your tenuous grasp of reality, Ace.  Now, go sit before your highly original backdrop of wrestling toys, and cry about that for two hours.

Shoo, shoo!!!

 

Random Numskullery Recently Encountered

*Before Money In The Bank, pinheads were predicting Sasha Banks would not only somehow weasel her way into the women’s ladder match, but also cop the briefcase.

Right.  Someone who got sent home for disciplinary reasons including publicly moaning about the company’s booking decisions—which she was okay with when they chose to make her singles champ four times—is going to get REWARDED…and with a world title shot, no less.

Even if Vincent Kennedy McMahon finally made his first bad decision, the prissy prima donna would probably get injured three more times between MITB and SummerSlam. May as well change her name to Miss Sterio, as often as sloppy Sasha in out of action.

*AEW apologists and stooges are going around declaring “I’m all for many promotions doing well, because it creates jobs for wrestlers and others, and creates healthy competition.”  All true, and thoughts I’ve expressed myself.  Though without a finger up one nostril.

HOWEVER, these are the same “open-minded” mollusks who have publicly gloated every time TNA/Impact hit a bumpy patch, never supporting that company or Ring Of Honor except for the period when their Bullet Club buddies were with the latter.

Additionally, they’re now staunchly against the biggest promotion in the world and have been stupid enough to constantly “choose sides”—instead of simply enjoying all promotions—dating back to the Monday Night Wars (and beyond, in some instances.)

Tony Khan’d opens his wallet for Cody and clique, and suddenly these hypocrites have turned hippie, expressing love for the health of the entire industry…as long at it excludes the “evil” WWE.

And they’re still not supporting Impact, ROH, Shimmer, MLW or anything else perceived as competition for AEW, and are attacking anyone who dares to casually mention that All Elite doesn’t appeal to him or her.  “We are all for competition…just not against us.”

“Better” still, this biased BS is coming before AEW has aired a single television episode.  In other words, they’re twisting themselves into pretzels, white-knighting a product they are guessing is going to be good.

That’s as idiotic as hearing that Steven Spielberg is making a movie with a few popular actors, and giving it a rave review before it is even produced.    And the two-faced fans’ level of hypocrisy is the equivalent of, say, a new promotion starting up—billed as “changing the world,” innovative and fresh—then hiring an announcer who is the most identifiably WWE non-wrestler alive and the stalest symbol of the Old Guard.

That would be Just Ridiculous.  Or J.R., for short.

SS49–In AWE of AEW

StaStaBlueNICE48size

Because every online wrestling “expert” has assured us All Elite Wrestling is going to “change the world,” drive the WWE right out of business and reverse climate change–even though the man in charge and his growing list of Executive Producers have never previously spent a single day in their positions and the promotion has yet to have one match—I am completely convinced said mat world wizards are indeed correct.

I mean they must be correct; because, if you check their entire history of postings, you won’t find a single apology regarding ever being incorrect!  Like, for example, no one in 2018 claimed the WWE had irreversibly “buried” Daniel Bryan and Becky. Or, in 2019, declared Kenny Omega was going to be the surprise entrant in the Royal Rumble.

Now that it has been firmly established beyond question that AEW will dominate the bonebending business for centuries to come, I have kindly put my mammoth brain to work, drawing up a few policies that, once implemented, will make this powerhouse promotion even more, um, powerhousey.

*Men in hazmat suits at shows’ doors to check for lice, and use a special Odorama device to detect if the potential entrant has showered in the past 72 hours.  No neckbeards will be permitted.  Ditto ridiculous sideburns or bandanas to hide receding hairlines—meaning the Jacksons will have to “executive produce” from the parking lot.

*Fans will not be referred to as a “universe,” but rather as “Elitists”…which they are anyway, with their highly unwarranted superiority complexes and smug attitude regarding “casuals.”

*The few broads in the promotion will not be subjected to wearing tiny outfits in order to allow lecherous slobs to get cheap thrills, a la Alexa Bliss.  That would be inexcusable.  Instead, the AEW women will be totally nude except for a thin coating of baby oil.

*Every time Omega is “selling” a now-ruined former finisher for two seconds, color commentator Stately Wayne Manor (oh, you didn’t know?) will shout “Oh, my God, they killed Kenny!!!”

*All pins will be for a six-count (since 98 percent of three-count pins will be kicked out of anyway.)

*Because AEW represents a serious sport for the mat connoisseur, only trained professional wrestlers will serve as Joey Ryan’s penis druids.

*All crowd chants must include the wrestler’s full name as it appears on his birth certificate.  This demonstrates the chanter is a true insider, unlike those peons who foolishly chant a grappler’s ring name or his former indie circuit moniker.

*Like in gymnastics and figure skating, every member of the audience shall hold up a card after each match, denoting the star rating it deserves.  Because AEW can do no wrong, the card set begins with four stars and goes up to ten.

*During the first intermission, there will be a WWE hating contest (even though it was the WWE who made most fans aware of the two biggest names on the card.)

*Security will bodily eject anyone caught cheering for babyfaces and booing the heels.

*Admission to pre-show meet-and-greet sessions will be absolutely FREE.  There will, however, be a $40 charge to exit.

*To satisfy the desires of the intellectuals in the Internet Wrestling Community, EVERY SINGE AEW employee will be pushed and hold a title, including the ring announcers, timekeeper and Martin R. Lipscomb of Dayton, Ohio, who prints up the programs.

*Streamers should be tossed into the ring not only before and after each match, but also with each near-fall.

*Small-talk between matches should be confined to what certain wrestlers “deserve,” which wrestlers already under contract elsewhere should “join” AEW, and namedropping NJPW talent from the past five years. Extra credit for adding “-san” to each Japanese name, e.g. Naito-san.

*Each arena entrant will receive a set of “opinion cards” in order to ensure everyone continues to Tweet the exact same thing throughout the following weeks.  Example:  Card #7 “Vince McMahon is a billionaire who disgustingly used his wealth to sign up the best indie talent…but Tony Khan didn’t do the exact same thing.”

*Providing intelligence tests for venue admission will allow AEW to make history by being the only promotion ever with an entire card consisting of empty arena matches.

*Because AEW is all about gender equality, brotherhood, being “inclusive,” and similar idealistic crap, the least-renowned former Bullet Club member will henceforth be known as Hangperson Page.

*Because Creative Control is very important to chatty social media masterminds, who have never been nor will ever be in matches and know nothing about the history of WCW, AEW will extend its roster Total Creative Control.  Anyone will have the right to refuse anything.  What could possibly go wrong?

 

The way I see it—and bear in mind I’m never wrong about anything, so this is incredibly important—All Elite Wrestling needs to be built around the one true star among their roster.  A charismatic young man with a real gift for addressing the masses and treating them exactly as they deserve to be treated.

Though only a complete numskull would project AEW to compete directly with the empire built by my good friend Vinny K. McMahon, I can see All Elite running a strong second—but only if Tony “Wrath Of” Khan centers the promotion on its most gifted individual.

That of course eliminates Kenny Overrated, either of the Young Dwarves and the son of the guy I called The American Drum because he got beat on so much.  And since I employed the adjective “young,” that means the chubby ghost of Axl Rose, Chris Jericho, ironically enough, doesn’t make the list.  Everyone knows Fozzy performed “The Star-Spangled Banner”…the day it was written.

No, I am referring to the one true standout amongst the signees.  An ideal personality for the yoots of America and beyond to emulate.  Unflinching in his beliefs while possessing the great bravery it takes to challenge the norm—and quite the snazzy dresser.

If you’re too dense to have figured it out by now, I’ll spell it out for you in three letters:  M-J-F.

I will have to check my road log to see if I was in his hometown nine months before his birth; but I suspect Maxwell Jacob Friedman may very well be my son.

Let’s examine the similarities.

*A dozen years ago, long before that Miz clone cat, I was walking around with “>U” stickers on my clothing. MJF’s slogan is “Better than you.”

*Immeasurably attractive—BOTH of us

*Keenly aware of superiority and not afraid to remind you—BOTH

*Recognizes the typical wrestling fan as a repugnant attention-seeker—BOTH

*Would rather belly-flop into a pool of porcupines than converse with you—BOTH

*Idol of millions yet couldn’t care less what anyone thinks—BOTH

*Immense talent being routinely suppressed by the jealous—BOTH

The only major difference between us is that M, as I call him, is very wealthy, whereas every tightwad publisher I ever worked for will verify I am a poor writer.  In fact, I defy anyone to prove I’m not!

At any rate, although my lawyers advise against it—due to terminology someone like you could never remotely understand—at this time, I would like to publicly and proudly bestow Maxwell with legal permission to refer to himself as SWMJF or Stately, Junior.

What higher endorsement could there possibly be?