Post by sonstuds on Sept 11, 2007 12:15:10 GMT -5
…And These Are Your Tag Team Champions
What is life. What is happiness. What is self control. Why am I not using question marks.
No one really knows. Well, I guess a dictionary would. Or a philosopher. Or anyone with any common sense can draw their own conclusions. Hrm.
Do any of those questions really relate to what I’m going through? Of course not. Is it nonsensical babble that serves no purpose? Sure. Is answering my own questions annoying and repetitive? You betcha. But it makes me sound SMART and DEEP.
Anyways, last night I was having sex with some girl I met at a bar. I finally accomplished my life goal and successfully achieved two consecutive orgasms. High-five!
You know that guy on Mad About You? Not Paul Reiser, the one with the big head? He was funny. I wish I knew his name.
So, does anyone really know what this is? I mean really? Is this supposed to be me talking to you or what? Or are you actually reading this somehow?
Maybe it’s supposed to be me talking to myself. Or a journal.
Yeah, that works. I’m gonna pretend it’s a dream journal. Last night I had a dream I achieved two consecutive orgasms. Oh wait; THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED BECAUSE I’M FUCKING AWESOME!! HELL’S YEAH!!
Anyways, I’m out. Later.
…if anyone’s there…
…awkward…
What is life. What is happiness. What is self control. Why am I not using question marks.
No one really knows. Well, I guess a dictionary would. Or a philosopher. Or anyone with any common sense can draw their own conclusions. Hrm.
Do any of those questions really relate to what I’m going through? Of course not. Is it nonsensical babble that serves no purpose? Sure. Is answering my own questions annoying and repetitive? You betcha. But it makes me sound SMART and DEEP.
Anyways, last night I was having sex with some girl I met at a bar. I finally accomplished my life goal and successfully achieved two consecutive orgasms. High-five!
You know that guy on Mad About You? Not Paul Reiser, the one with the big head? He was funny. I wish I knew his name.
So, does anyone really know what this is? I mean really? Is this supposed to be me talking to you or what? Or are you actually reading this somehow?
Maybe it’s supposed to be me talking to myself. Or a journal.
Yeah, that works. I’m gonna pretend it’s a dream journal. Last night I had a dream I achieved two consecutive orgasms. Oh wait; THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED BECAUSE I’M FUCKING AWESOME!! HELL’S YEAH!!
Anyways, I’m out. Later.
…if anyone’s there…
…awkward…
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{There he sits, edge of the piss yellow couch as he takes short sips of his Miller Lite. It’s a continued activity. Between flipping between channels, usually in the vicinity of five each, he’ll briefly stop and take another sip. Every so often he’ll look towards Sullee’s direction. Every time he receives a view of the back of his head. In moments of boredom he’ll sigh as Sullee stares at his computer screen and makes the occasional click on his mouse. This same scenario occurs every time. Sullee knows EBR doesn’t even enjoy fantasy football, yet he brings him to his apartment every season. By EBR’s own admittance it’s the only way he could ever complete it, and despite Sullee’s insults and persistence on if he needs to hold EBR’s dick while he takes a piss as well, it’s a yearly tradition and a stance that will never change, at least in EBR’s mind. Sullee on the other hand still maintains the hope that one day he can find a new friend to complete his draft pool. It’s never fully downed on either why, after years of knowing each other, two men with no real general like for one another would continue to hang out on a consistent basis.
The blinding glow from the two screens is the only thing that prevents both men from sitting in what would be a pitch black room. There’s a moderate urge for EBR to ask to turn the lights on, if not do it anyways, but he knows Sullee and knows the most likely response he’d get it. He accustoms it to the ideal belief that Sullee’s lights are likely empty or filled with light bulbs that have burnt out weeks ago. Of course, there’s no actual precedence for this assumption and perhaps Sullee just enjoys darkness or continually forgets to buy said light bulbs. Either way, EBR remains plastered on the couch, squinting as the television burns his retinas.}[/color]
Sullee:[/color] Third pick?
{Unresponsive, EBR continues to stare at Sullee’s small television as he skips through various channels.}[/color]
Sullee:[/color] You’re up, motherfucker.
EBR:[/COLOR] Bobby Wade.
{Spinning his chair around for the first time, Sullee deeply stares at his evidently uninterested guest. He expects him to, at the very least, try. Bobby Wade? Sullee rationalizes that EBR’s probably under the impression he still plays for the Tennessee Titans, and with him probably not knowing any other Titans receivers, goes for the quick pick. There’s no reason to even call him out on it.}[/color]
EBR:[/COLOR] I figure the Vikings don’t have a valuable wide-out regardless, but compared to Troy Williamson and a rookie Sidney Rice he has a good chance at being their number one receiver. Though, I feel the same way with Brandon Jones. Bit of a toss up, but Vince Young spreads the ball out more. Can I have another beer?
{Disappointed, Sullee turns his attention back to his computer.}[/color]
EBR:[/COLOR]…Well?
Sullee:[/color] Haven’t you had four already?
EBR:[/COLOR] Two.
Sullee:[/color] It’s taken you two hours to drink two beers? You’re not taking sips like a woman, are you?
EBR:[/COLOR] I have to fly to Ireland tomorrow. The last place I want to have a hang over is on an airplane. In the event of a terrorist attack I need to be at full alert, not complaining that I have a head ache.
Sullee:[/color] Speaking of -- you win the Tag Team Titles after I specifically tell you not too, jeopardize the integrity of the company, and overall you’re less than enthusiastic to even hold your half. Yet, you don’t even bring it over to let me look at?
EBR:[/COLOR] I just let the WFWF keep it and give it to me whenever I have a match. It only takes up space in my house anyways.
Sullee:[/color] You tried to use it as a coaster didn’t you?
EBR:[/COLOR] Wasn’t flat enough.
Sullee:[/color] I had you selling it on E-Bay if it makes you feel any better.
EBR:[/COLOR] {Smirking}[/color] They made me take it off. Suddenly they decided it wasn’t “my property”. I got negative feedback for that.
Sullee:[/color] Who’d you end up winning it with anyways?
{An exasperated sigh is heard over the inaudible television volume.}[/color]
EBR:[/COLOR] CBT…
Sullee:[/color] That’s ironic.
EBR:[/COLOR] How so?
Sullee:[/color] Your reasoning for wanting the titles was to revenge the WFWF for retiring them. Yet, you end up winning them with the same man who made the decision to get rid of them in the first place. And the same man, who as an owner, directly represents the same thing you hate. That’s kinda funny.
{A blank stare, followed by a disheartened drop of the head.}[/color]
EBR:[/COLOR] Man…I really wish Yukio just gave me half of his.
Sullee:[/color] Told ‘ya not to try and win them in the first place.
EBR:[/COLOR] Seemed like a good idea at the time. Besides, I still got my title back-
Sullee:[/color] The one you don’t want?
EBR:[/COLOR] It’s not so much that I don’t want it; it’s more that I don’t care if I lose it.
{Stretching out, his shoes spread dirt onto the already unclean couch as he lies in a callous disregard.}[/color]
EBR:[/COLOR] I’ll tell you though, it’s all karma. What’s the best way for God to get back at me? Not have me get injured, not have me lose my money on a pyramid scheme, but give me a partner I can’t stand. A partner who, while not great, is good enough so that ideally we should have a lengthy title reign. He’s a crafty one, that God is.
Sullee:[/color] It’s good to know you can finally admit your misjudgments.
EBR:[/COLOR] Giving someone CBT really makes them look long and hard into a mirror. Kind of makes you question every decision you ever made, just to trace your steps and see where you went wrong.
Sullee:[/color] Trust me, this isn’t the first mistake you’ve made.
EBR:[/COLOR] The side burns?
Sullee:[/color] That too, but c’mon man…you know CBT, at least enough to get an idea of him as a person. I don’t, but from what you’ve told me he’s an awful lot like you used to be.
EBR:[/COLOR] Minus a talk show and my charming good looks, of course.
Sullee:[/color] No, seriously. What was the difference between anything you did and he anything he does now?
EBR:[/COLOR] He tends to talk in monologues, for one.
Sullee:[/color] Didn’t you tell me he claims to be the Future of the WFWF?
EBR:[/COLOR] And the current; how does that work?
Sullee:[/color] Didn’t you call out and play the antagonist for majority of your career? You’re more like him than you’ll ever think.
{A silence passes over the room.}[/color]
Sullee:[/color] Exactly.
EBR:[/COLOR] What do you want me to say? I can’t deny any of it. At least I know I acted like a fool.
Sullee:[/color] And what’s to say he won’t realize when he’s your age?
{Looking down and smirking, it takes him a brief moment to respond.}[/color]
EBR:[/COLOR] I’ll call him in five years.
Sullee:[/color] Face it, for you to ever question anyone’s career choices leaves you nothing short of a hypocrite. And hey, at least CBT can play the immaturity card. You’re twenty seven, yet you’re still letting your ego get in the way of common sense. Do we need to have the “why you shouldn’t win the Tag Team Titles” conversation again?
{And just to rub EBR’s face in the dirt more so, he goes out his way to specifically highlight his point, just incase EBR missed it. Even though he didn’t.}[/color]
Sullee:[/color] Your entire career has been based around mistakes and decisions you either shouldn’t have made or didn’t think through. To put it in perspective; you’re pretty much the blooper real of the WFWF.
EBR:[/COLOR] I suppose it’d be frowned upon if I tell you I’m facing CBT?
{Squeaks are heard as Sullee slowly turns his chair around, a condescending look printed on his face. All EBR can do his shake his head and chuckle, knowing what’s coming next. “Are you…”}[/color]
Sullee:[/color] Are you intellectually- disabled?
EBR:[/COLOR] Don’t believe so.
Sullee:[/color] You’re gonna face the man you co-hold the Tag Team Titles with? When would that ever seem like a good idea?
EBR:[/COLOR] He challenged me.
Sullee:[/color] And you’re gonna let him him tell you what to do?
EBR:[/COLOR] Weren’t you just on his side two minutes ago?
Sullee:[/color] You really are an idiot.
{Moving his arms to overemphasis and add dramatic theatrics, Sullee staggers to formulate and find the best words to explain his rationale.}[/color]
Sullee:[/color] Dumbass.
EBR:[/COLOR] I fail to see the big deal-
Sullee:[/color] How you gonna team up with someone you either beat or get beaten by?
EBR:[/COLOR] Well-
Sullee:[/color] There’s no logical way you can exist as a cohesive unit whatsoever. The team’s gonna be over, buddy.
EBR:[/COLOR] If I thought it’d be that easy I would have kicked CBT in the shin a month ago. Unfortunately he likes me…I think…
Sullee:[/color] Then why the hell would he challenge you?
EBR:[/COLOR] I dunno, I vaguely remember him calling me a has-been some time ago.
Sullee:[/color] Then why would he want to fight you?
{The lack of coherency frustrates both men.}[/color]
EBR:[/COLOR] Look, for whatever reason, CBT started shit.
{Before Sullee can intervene EBR holds his palm up, preventing any cut off.}[/color]
EBR:[/COLOR] If he had just challenged me to “pure wrestling rules” – and I don’t even know that is, honestly – I’d tell him to fuck off. Instead, he decides to one up and get himself the limelight at my expense. I think it’s warranted I respond, preferably by stomping his face.
{A blank stare is all that needs to be reciprocated, but Sullee won’t leave it at that.}[/color]
Sullee:[/color] You’re really quite ignorant for someone who claims to know the industry. That was CBT’s point! You’re playing into everything he’s giving you. I really begin to question what you’re gonna pull out of your hat when you respond. Probably leave a derogatory e-mail or something. However wronged you think you are, let it go. Besides, you deserve any and everything you get. You’re the one who believes in karma, after all. Your entire schtick was making fun of guests on the Emporium. Now CBT makes you look stupid. Boom – karma, everything’s good, you don’t need to face him.
EBR:[/COLOR] It’s not that simple.
Sullee:[/color] Actually, it is. Don’t do this match. You’ll regret it.
EBR:[/COLOR] I certainly don’t fear CBT physically.
Sullee:[/color] Probably not, but it’s not about the actual match.
EBR:[/COLOR] I know; I shouldn’t do it for the {finger quotes}[/color] “good of the team”. We didn’t get along anyways.
Sullee:[/color] You’re not getting my point. It doesn’t matter what happens in the ring. No one cares if you win and everyone expects you to lose.
EBR:[/COLOR] Because CBT was the one who started it, and the one who starts it is always the one who wins?
Sullee:[/color] Yes. You’re the poster child for that.
EBR:[/COLOR] Then what’s the repercussion in doing the match, if I’m losing after all, and you’re trying to tell me I deserve everything I get?
{For the first time, Sullee is left speechless and without a rebuttal. Folding his arms over his head, EBR smiles.}[/color]
EBR:[/COLOR] Regardless of what you think, I know my problem; I overanalyze things. I’m a wrestler – I fight people for a living. That’s what I do. Instead of accepting that I’d try and find loopholes to explain any action I’d make. Really, what’s there to think about regarding CBT? He attacked me. He challenged me. The ball isn’t in my hands, so naturally, anything that can go wrong in terms of self doubt can only be reciprocated onto him.
Sullee:[/color] You really think it’s that simple, don’t you?
EBR:[/COLOR] Well, if every decision I make is wrong because I do what everyone else doesn’t do, then I’m right if I do what everyone else does.
{While he momentarily attempts to evaluate whether the previous statement made sense, he pulls a carton of cigarettes out from his pocket.}[/color]
Sullee:[/color] You know, normally I’d understand and be able to appreciate your rationale –
because God knows that rarely if ever happens – but you really need to get your head out of you’re ass.
{EBR lights and inhales.}[/color]
EBR:[/COLOR] I’ll tell you what; if I regret it I’ll buy you a beer. By the way, you really need to turn a light on.
{Sullee simply shakes his head and chuckles.}[/color]
Sullee:[/color] You’re both retards.
EBR:[/COLOR] {Smiling}[/color] And to think; these our their Tag Team Champions.
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myspace.com/sexexpress53
Tuesday 11/09/2007
Fight Music
Current Mood: content
Every so often there’s a moment where even I, in all my glory, cannot make sense of a sad situation. For weeks I’ve tried to process what exactly my young, unwanted tag team partner is spewing. Thinking about it leaves me at a loss for words. I often wonder if there’s any true motive or meaning. It gets frustrating. However, after every few minutes it always comes back to me; It’s CBT. To even try and comprehend his logic is like deciphering the lyrics to “Informer” by Snow (old school). It’s just an irrational waste of time.
On some levels it’s hard for me to even be mad at someone like him. The guy contradicts himself and forces inconsistencies on a daily basis. This is the same man that called Calvin Lee & Luther Castle the best Tag Team in the WFWF, then a few days later proclaims they’re gay and tries (and fails) to mock them.
This is the same man who calls me his favorite wrestler, then throws me on top of Calvin Lee for the pin (which causes me to question his sexual preference, quite frankly). The following week he throws me out of the ring after I save the match and got us another victory. Afterwards? He claims to respect me.
“…”
With that history I really don’t know if he’ll attack me from behind with a steel chair or blow me. Sadly, I’m anticipating both happening. Hopefully not in that order…
So how do I really comment on this? I don’t know what his actions mean. I don’t know why he’s doing it, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t either. Though, I’m sure he’ll compare it to UPS, monkeys on a bed, college, or whatever God awful analogy he’ll use in an effort to sound smart.
Obviously, I can’t make sense of anything he does (nor can anyone else). All I can really speak on is my behalf. If I really wanted too I probably could have bitch smacked him weeks ago and be done with the entire situation. But nah…I’ll let him play his little mind games (though, if this is CBT’s attempt at mind games I’d like to think I’m worth a little more effort).
With his simple thought process I’m sure he thinks he has the one step advantage. After all, the wily old veteran is getting verbally and physically provoked by the young blue chipper (even though he’s been in the WFWF for three years; I’m pretty sure at this point he should be the veteran, but I suppose that’s neither here nor there) and the veteran isn’t responding. Success! CBT wins!
Ahaha…nah. I didn’t remain silent because I felt CBT punked me out or put me in my place. I’ve just been waiting.
I know CBT’s kind. The second I (c’mon, you all saw the match) won us the Tag Team Titles I knew this day would be brought upon me. It was just a question of whether soon or later. Though, if CBT’s anxiousness is spread onto his other activities, it saddens me to know that Mia Porter experienced several unfulfilled and disappointing nights. :(
CBT’s so far up his own ass he won’t think anything fully through. He could have, at the very least, created an entertaining cat and mouse game and try to lure me in and strike at a moment when I never would have expected it (I tell you, sneak attacks were much better done in 2003; there was just more effort involved).
Instead, he blows it and attacks me when I saw it coming. And because it’s CBT after all, he actually goes as far as to book us in a match at Survival of the Fittest.
How and why would that possibly seem like a good idea?
Oh right; because I made him think it was :D
It’s not that I’m not pissed. I am. I just put things into perspective. I’ll make him think he has my number, make him think I can’t respond to anything he does to me. In turn? He thinks he has the advantage. Hey, a guy like CBT could use a break here and there.
Meanwhile? I’m in the corner bottling everything up until the day we formally meet in the ring.
It’s been hard, trust me. The urge to pop CBT in the mouth after every comment and every action was the equivalent of jacking off every time you get hard. But I figure it’s worth it in the long run.
As clichéd as it sounds (I’m sure CBT has said it), no one’s seen what I’m really capable of. No one’s seen me mad yet. I was disappointed in Calvin Lee. I was annoyed at Yukio Blaze. I’m pissed at CBT. I’m pissed at who he is and what he represents. It’s not just that he’s decided to start beef with me, it’s that he’s an overall disgrace to the WFWF. It sickens me to know I’m seemingly the only one who finds it repulsive that an owner nonetheless can begin and make pedophilia jokes at a five year old’s expense. Ah yes, the epitome of class.
Now let’s all watch him drink expensive wine and talk about women he fails to please.
When I kick CBT’s teeth in I’m not just doing it for me. No one likes him. Yet somehow he’s always been able to get away virtually unscarred (not literally, according to Obo) from everyone he’s started shit with. The Anointed disbanded before we’d shut him, and to a lesser extent Reverend Shadow up. Wayne McGurk lost interest after one match where he truly lost nothing to begin with (a three year pro holding a mid-card beltbecause he can’t win the Heavyweight Title? That fits CBT to a FUCKING TEE). Yukio Blaze went onto bigger things, even though CBT set him up to lose the Tag Team Titles. Hell, even Obo gave up when his record against CBT began bordering the ‘72 Dolphins’.
He’s gotten away with a lot of shit. Heh…until he met me.
This shit’s personal. I’m gonna kick his head in. And it’s going to hurt. But hey, it’s not all bad. After all, he’ll still have his Tag Team Title…
…which I won him. ;)
P.S. Protect your neck, C.
-E
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“You came back, you left yourself open to the public once again, and now you have these meager nobodies, these CBTs. . .calling you out trying to make their name at your expense. It’s your choice to listen to it, or accept it for what it truly is.”
- Alex Sean
