Post by CBT on Apr 27, 2007 21:02:36 GMT -5
We Only Live Once
We only live once. What a stupid fuckin' analogy.
Those four words are used in every major scenario where we do something stupid, or take a chance that's far from worth it, and we takes all of five minutes to reinstate why we plan to follow through with it.
I've been a part of WFWF for just under three years. Every time I stepped into a ring, I treated it like the end all be all, so as time goes on the task at hand becomes much larger. To the point where it feels like somebody is deliberately punching me in the face, seeking blood, and I sit there smiling, egging them on. Because I sense I can continue to use that same formula that got me success, denying my lack thereof. The punches get harder, and with each shot the less success I gain from them.
The person putting me through it proves to be much more superior then the ones that came before him. Much more remorseless then any one man I've encounted. While also proving not just to be, but proving to me, that whether or not I choose to show respect for them. They will put me through hell to get it. While I just methodicly sit there, egging it on. Because I sit there unbeknown to them, planning my next attack.
Over the years it seems I have altered, not neccessarily faltered, but I have shown signs of change. I mean back in August I not only took a future world champion under my wing, in Reverend Shadow, But I showed passion. Not just for winning, not just for losing, but I had reason to win, reason to lose, I showed a side of me often times I regret revealing. But that side of me good or bad, is one that makes me that much more dangerous. That much more of a threat. Not neccessarily unstable, but capable of dethroning any and everybody put infront of me.
Like any young man who encounters wisdom, I was foolish. I showed respect for those that some say paved the way for guys like me. But truth be told I learned quick, because nobody in WFWF's past, present, or future will ever be like me. It's that simple. But then of course nothing signals change more then an empathic statement, and I made plenty.
ZMaster knows first hand, sure he was partially an inspiration to a guy like me coming up in this business. But when I finally stepped my game up, he felt threatened so instead chose to brawl when all I ever wanted was a little one on one match, to see whose the better man.
Me and him, we had a classic Iron Man match, but don't fool yourself, for it was I who reigned supreme that night. The beginning to what would be passing the torch, instead lead to ZMaster calling it quits.
That night something sparked off inside of me, and for the first time in my professional life, I felt like I made a profit. The blood loss, the ligament damage, all that shit you push to the side disappeared as I finished a man who was easily giving it his all, and in the back of his mind knew his days were numbered.
But you see when I got to the back, I wasn't through that night. The statement was made, but I need an explanation. Scratch that, an exclamation mark. My statement made in Bold, with the caps lock on. That statement was the Higher Authority. Not just a faction, but a family. Not an era, but a dynasty.
Short but sweet, I'm not gonna say anything bad here about Reverend Shadow. But on the real note, other then becoming an owner. Much like a UPS commercial slightly changed to fit the topic, What Could Rev Do For Me? When it was all said and over with, appearantly nothing. As I sat on the side-lines doing 95% of the work, Reverend Shadow became WFWF's first world heavyweight champion. Whoopty Fuckin' doo!
I can't believe I could be so stupid. Not as much in regards to keeping my friends close, and my enemies closer. But rather agreeing to just sit in the wings, with the advisory being, if I feel froggy to jump. Well you know what? I did. Wayne McGurk, here's where you come in.
This is not a hustle's story, oh no. Wayne in all of what I've laid out for you to see, it does not scratch the surface of hatrid I have for you.
While we've never faced you single-handedly embody everything I've ever hated about this god damn promotion. Yes the one I currently run. Let me put it in Layman's Terms so you can properly understand the issue I'm fronting to you.
You ever hear the number's theory? It goes something like, if eight little monkey's are jumping on the bed, and one happens to falls off and bump his head, let's say the mama calls the doctor and the doctor says, no more monkeys jumping on the bed? Where do you fall in line with that? Don't know? Well I bet you got distracted when I said monkey.
Wayne you're a case of a guy whose been in WFWF just as long if not longer then I have. In due time guys will leave a promotion, or even the business, and opportunity brings her inferior ass up the ladder. It's a case where nothing but budget cuts could prevent you from succeeding in WFWF. But don't take my words to heart, that is just a small piece in the jigsaw puzzle of disgust I have for you, and this puzzle is about 5000 pieces.
So go ahead while your at it and ask yourself why? Why I would attack you?
But you probably already figured that out, and that is why I've invested so much time in you.
I know very well what you could do, and while on the outside I see you as nothing but biker trash.
I know you are so much more then that in a ring. I attacked you for many reasons. I could even make them up as I go along. I could have been sending a message to the Revolution through you or maybe I wanted you out of the equation so I could slip a twenty to that street worker you call a wife.
Wayne there is really no direct answer to explain why the hatrid runs through me like a cold sweat to an adrenaline junkie. But what is known is that in that shithole they once called the ECW Arena. We'll fight like men, and that on that night and only that night. The belt won't be for keeps, but really the center-piece of a much larger story.
You see, I tried to figure you out in the four weeks I had going into this match, but you truly have put me in a position, one I'm not familar of, but I kinda like it.
I like being able to tell you straight up shit like that, college is like a woman, you work so hard to get in and 9 months later you wish you hadn't come. Explaining to you, word for word, how Obo is more a man then you because he at least realized his bitch was doing nothing more then aiding the enemey. But then again, his stupid ass much like yours, wound up stuck in a pussy trap for the next eight-teen years.
In ending it there, I wanna let it be known, Wayne. I don't need that belt of yours, but if you ever think you're gonna live up to the hype people give you. You gotta go through me. You will never see that Heavyweight title if you pussy-foot up to the plate in a fight like this.
We will meet again, but for this occasion, our first meeting. You don't even know the half of what you have gotten yourself into
OOC: So here is my defense. I kind of felt distracted. Wayne was close to having this match go a different road, figuring we'd have another match down the road. But I didn't want to just fallback so I went with what usually is the best feature in my roleplays. Now I'm highly considering my own style where I put all focuse in the way it is above. For those who remember my last roleplay, the monologue/blog/entry came of perfect, but everything else was really weak. So maybe I need to change focuse. I don't think rust was a factor but rather uncertainty on just what message I was going for.
Good luck Wayne.
We only live once. What a stupid fuckin' analogy.
Those four words are used in every major scenario where we do something stupid, or take a chance that's far from worth it, and we takes all of five minutes to reinstate why we plan to follow through with it.
I've been a part of WFWF for just under three years. Every time I stepped into a ring, I treated it like the end all be all, so as time goes on the task at hand becomes much larger. To the point where it feels like somebody is deliberately punching me in the face, seeking blood, and I sit there smiling, egging them on. Because I sense I can continue to use that same formula that got me success, denying my lack thereof. The punches get harder, and with each shot the less success I gain from them.
The person putting me through it proves to be much more superior then the ones that came before him. Much more remorseless then any one man I've encounted. While also proving not just to be, but proving to me, that whether or not I choose to show respect for them. They will put me through hell to get it. While I just methodicly sit there, egging it on. Because I sit there unbeknown to them, planning my next attack.
Over the years it seems I have altered, not neccessarily faltered, but I have shown signs of change. I mean back in August I not only took a future world champion under my wing, in Reverend Shadow, But I showed passion. Not just for winning, not just for losing, but I had reason to win, reason to lose, I showed a side of me often times I regret revealing. But that side of me good or bad, is one that makes me that much more dangerous. That much more of a threat. Not neccessarily unstable, but capable of dethroning any and everybody put infront of me.
Like any young man who encounters wisdom, I was foolish. I showed respect for those that some say paved the way for guys like me. But truth be told I learned quick, because nobody in WFWF's past, present, or future will ever be like me. It's that simple. But then of course nothing signals change more then an empathic statement, and I made plenty.
ZMaster knows first hand, sure he was partially an inspiration to a guy like me coming up in this business. But when I finally stepped my game up, he felt threatened so instead chose to brawl when all I ever wanted was a little one on one match, to see whose the better man.
Me and him, we had a classic Iron Man match, but don't fool yourself, for it was I who reigned supreme that night. The beginning to what would be passing the torch, instead lead to ZMaster calling it quits.
That night something sparked off inside of me, and for the first time in my professional life, I felt like I made a profit. The blood loss, the ligament damage, all that shit you push to the side disappeared as I finished a man who was easily giving it his all, and in the back of his mind knew his days were numbered.
But you see when I got to the back, I wasn't through that night. The statement was made, but I need an explanation. Scratch that, an exclamation mark. My statement made in Bold, with the caps lock on. That statement was the Higher Authority. Not just a faction, but a family. Not an era, but a dynasty.
Short but sweet, I'm not gonna say anything bad here about Reverend Shadow. But on the real note, other then becoming an owner. Much like a UPS commercial slightly changed to fit the topic, What Could Rev Do For Me? When it was all said and over with, appearantly nothing. As I sat on the side-lines doing 95% of the work, Reverend Shadow became WFWF's first world heavyweight champion. Whoopty Fuckin' doo!
I can't believe I could be so stupid. Not as much in regards to keeping my friends close, and my enemies closer. But rather agreeing to just sit in the wings, with the advisory being, if I feel froggy to jump. Well you know what? I did. Wayne McGurk, here's where you come in.
This is not a hustle's story, oh no. Wayne in all of what I've laid out for you to see, it does not scratch the surface of hatrid I have for you.
While we've never faced you single-handedly embody everything I've ever hated about this god damn promotion. Yes the one I currently run. Let me put it in Layman's Terms so you can properly understand the issue I'm fronting to you.
You ever hear the number's theory? It goes something like, if eight little monkey's are jumping on the bed, and one happens to falls off and bump his head, let's say the mama calls the doctor and the doctor says, no more monkeys jumping on the bed? Where do you fall in line with that? Don't know? Well I bet you got distracted when I said monkey.
Wayne you're a case of a guy whose been in WFWF just as long if not longer then I have. In due time guys will leave a promotion, or even the business, and opportunity brings her inferior ass up the ladder. It's a case where nothing but budget cuts could prevent you from succeeding in WFWF. But don't take my words to heart, that is just a small piece in the jigsaw puzzle of disgust I have for you, and this puzzle is about 5000 pieces.
So go ahead while your at it and ask yourself why? Why I would attack you?
But you probably already figured that out, and that is why I've invested so much time in you.
I know very well what you could do, and while on the outside I see you as nothing but biker trash.
I know you are so much more then that in a ring. I attacked you for many reasons. I could even make them up as I go along. I could have been sending a message to the Revolution through you or maybe I wanted you out of the equation so I could slip a twenty to that street worker you call a wife.
Wayne there is really no direct answer to explain why the hatrid runs through me like a cold sweat to an adrenaline junkie. But what is known is that in that shithole they once called the ECW Arena. We'll fight like men, and that on that night and only that night. The belt won't be for keeps, but really the center-piece of a much larger story.
You see, I tried to figure you out in the four weeks I had going into this match, but you truly have put me in a position, one I'm not familar of, but I kinda like it.
I like being able to tell you straight up shit like that, college is like a woman, you work so hard to get in and 9 months later you wish you hadn't come. Explaining to you, word for word, how Obo is more a man then you because he at least realized his bitch was doing nothing more then aiding the enemey. But then again, his stupid ass much like yours, wound up stuck in a pussy trap for the next eight-teen years.
In ending it there, I wanna let it be known, Wayne. I don't need that belt of yours, but if you ever think you're gonna live up to the hype people give you. You gotta go through me. You will never see that Heavyweight title if you pussy-foot up to the plate in a fight like this.
We will meet again, but for this occasion, our first meeting. You don't even know the half of what you have gotten yourself into
OOC: So here is my defense. I kind of felt distracted. Wayne was close to having this match go a different road, figuring we'd have another match down the road. But I didn't want to just fallback so I went with what usually is the best feature in my roleplays. Now I'm highly considering my own style where I put all focuse in the way it is above. For those who remember my last roleplay, the monologue/blog/entry came of perfect, but everything else was really weak. So maybe I need to change focuse. I don't think rust was a factor but rather uncertainty on just what message I was going for.
Good luck Wayne.
