Ugh. That lull post Mania. That summer shit drive. Fuck. The Shield and Cesaro. What else is worth watching for? Sigh. I’m going all in on FFW on this one.

Batista-ing Time? (Answer in image).

“I watch, write, suffer, and succumb to this show, yet have to remind myself of what happened only minutes after each episode. I don’t just do results, more what is going on while I watch the show…”.

Thinking… ESPN? Or… Brazzers?

– * US Title Match: Sheamus {C} vs. Dean Ambrose (Holding The U.S. Title Means You Are Actually A Loser Match). A Dean Ambrose match I will watch, even if he gets all that unmixed Strawberry Yogurt on his skin. JBL rips on Ambrose for never defending the title, while Cole points out that he could only participate in the matches he was put in. Suck it, JBL. Aren’t you supposed to be climbing mountains, and shit? What ever happened to that? Commercials.

– They return, and Sheamus is allowed to pretend to look credible. He benefits from Ambrose selling the moves and somehow this is worth watching. Just as I suspected. Ambrose is one of the wrestle-a-broom-guys. Sheamus remains cursed, successfully defending his title, now only to mire in the midcard and getting jobbed out in non-title matches for months. Meanwhile, Ambrose moves up the card to the main card players to help encourage people to watch B level special events PPVS that the WWE will make nothing broadcasting as the only place you can pay to view it, is online on pirated illegal streaming websites. LOL. The WWE business model is fucked right now.

A fellow viewer of SmackDown…

– * Cesaro and Bad News Barrett vs. RVD and Big E (Nobody Has a Proper Full Name Match). Heyman is on commentary, and thereby makes this match instantly better. BNB notes the new climate is awesome as he’s the I.C. Champ. Climate change isn’t just sweeping through WWE, it’s sweeping through the entire nation. The climate will be changing as new talent will be coming up and making us all forget about dude’s like Big E. RVD’s eye is still fucked up, but he gets his shit in. Cesaro mocks the eye. It’s a fast paced, but sharp match. Our finish comes from Cesaro pushes, and ducks, Big E, who consequentially eats a roundhouse kick to the face. Barrett drags RVD, E’s attacker, and pulls him out of the ring and tosses him into the ring barricade. Cesaro hits the Neutralizer, meanwhile, for the win. Great finish. Very well put together.

– Lana is out. I ogle her. Tasty. She continues the Rocky 4, James Bond enemy, Putin, cliche stuff… but hey, new cold war time, bitches! LET’S NUKE THIS MOTHERFUCKER!!! WORLD IN PIECES!!! 🙁 There is a sad side to this shtick, but fortunately my other brain won’t be thinking about that unt… shit. Now I’m thinking about it. I go grab Kleenex.

– * Rusev w/ Lana vs. Kofi Kingston (Rusev Hates Black People Match). FFW. Rusev wins via Camel Clutch.

– Bray Wyatt video vignette. It’s another part of the Bray mythology. And the philosophy is rather simple in this one. All things that are stoic, but unwilling to adapt to change even when their values are in question, will die. Or, as Luke Harper puts it bluntly with one word, “Burn”. Hmm… I was expecting an “I Quit” match, but perhaps the WWE goes back to the well a la Summerslam and we get an “Inferno” match? Not sure.

– * Santino and Emma vs. Fandango and Layla (Nobody Puts Baby In a Four Corners Match). No patience for this bullshit tonight. FFW. Emma tries to use her cobra, and gets rolled up by Layla FML.

True Story.

– * Roman Reigns vs. Mark Henry (Rusev is Coming for Mark Henry Next Match). This match is relevant. FFW. No time. I like Henry’s build, but the matches are always slow and plodding. Reigns is getting there… slowly but surely. I guess if you like the Hoss matches, check this one out. Me? I checked out. Fuck it. Reigns makes quick work of Henry. That’s all you need to know.

This lasted maybe 2 minutes on Reddit.

– * Los Matadores and El Torito vs. Heath Slater, Drew McIntyre, and Hornswoggle w/ Jinder Mahal (I Just Saw This On RAW Match). I just let the FFW keep flowing. I liked the WeeLC match (not the announcer midgets, they sucked, on ER PPV). No time for this. One week? Sure. For MONTHS!??!?!? BUY THE REPLAY. Actually don’t. The WWE is so fucked this summer… this is fucking terrible.

– We get clips of that RAW booking of the top champion of the program and his wife facing Kane in a Woo-woo-woo, angle. WTF was that shit on RAW? This is NOT Friday the 13th! Why is the top champ running and cowering in terror from some dude with a wig mask who was wrestling in a shitty tie/suit gimmick? Kane is not believable anymore. Move the fuck on, fuck. I’m thinking I need a summer vacation from reviewing the WWE, because that is just terrible. Secretly I hope they go out of business via the Network debacle (even though it’s a pipe-dream, and I still like NXT). Should I just drop this shit and review NXT? Hrrrmmm….


– Buffalo Bills fans are seen in the audience. Maybe they are players. I can’t tell the difference. Then Mr. T’s Mother Day rap drops again. Ok, are you FFW’ing yet? Fuck this show.


– * Seth Rollins vs. Batista (Let’s Force Batista Out Because We’re Trying to Hide the Pay Structure in the WWE Network Era From The Boys Match). I opt to watch for Rollins. Batista has left and stayed in the WWE 923,124,150,002 times this week alone. This one is truly all Rollins. Batista can still play off the little dudes, but Seth busts his ass to tell the story. The trend continues. Batista gets the rub from Rollins (yes, I said that), as our high flyer takes a ridiculous head-first failed-splash attempt on The Animal on the outside and Batista gets his win. This match is worth watching. For Rollins.


– * The Wyatt Family vs. John Cena and The Uso Brothers (Total Duck Diva Dynasty Match). How many months? I opt to preload World War Z during this. Meh. Maybe something relevant will happen? New former WWE’s kids with auto-tuned voices? Shit, and I love the Wyatts. Luke Harper does load up his crazy possessed face at the start, as I get my stream buffered. And I completely lose patience. FFW. The Usos are kind of boring. So I just watch and at least Bray locks in the crab thing. More FFW. Cena and Uso 1 fight outside with the Wyatts, as Harper defeats Uso #2. The Wyatts win. Meh.

Final Thoughts: World War Z is on.

I criticize because I care. I did enjoy the show. I wouldn’t watch if I didn’t love this shit.

The WWE logo comes up, and I’m out.

I land my finisher, the “Delete Recording” and call it a night.

Tell me I’m a retard on Twitter! Yes, you can mock me on social media now here: @GoftheInternet




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Sept 6, 2013. I am a clone of G. I am currently handcuffed to one of the lower legs of G’s sofa in his apartment. Yesterday, while the real G was at work, monkey nearby shrieked at me to attempt to lift the sofa. It worked! I went to thank the monkey located in an open-doored cage on the stairs leading down to the basement of G’s basement apartment, and noticed a large man strapped into a chair in the basement. I then heard the original G returning home. I need to find his magical device that created me…

Sept 13, 2013. The real Gee has noticed my writing. That stupid fuck hasn’t deleted anything, but he did taze me repeatedly. I still think there is a monkey held captive on the stairs to the second level of this building.
Sept 20, 2013. Made progress today. Discovered some kind of cloning device. I used it to clone the device itself, and hid the copy under the couch I am “hand-cuffed” to. The monkey saw this, but I don’t think he’ll say anything. He’s a monkey, after all. Some dude named Johnny Storm stopped by to say hi. Weird.

Sept 27, 2013. An obese man who claims to be famous magically appeared in the living room today. He told me the cloning gadget I made a copy of has the powers to do much more. Sounded like a bunch of crap to me. I immediately knocked him out and tied him up beside the one the “real” G calls “Barks.” Both look the same. I killed the new guy and fed him to the other captives. I think. They both look the same. All of that future-talk and preventing the death of kayfabe annoyed me. Either way, one of the “Barks” was dinner. He tasted like chicken. Big surprise there.

Oct 4, 2013. So I guess the guy I fed to his doppleganger was actually able to escape last week with help from that J.T. guy. He was screaming something about “his” chair. Either way, G is pissed and punished me all week. He said something about maybe sending me to Fall Camp. I decided to not make any decisive moves. It seems for the best. Just like the WWE, I guess, albeit “best” isn’t the “best” word I’d use to describe the product.

Oct 18, 2013. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to write here. G has been continually sending me off to ancient historical eras to collect random artifacts. I don’t understand why a stool sample from Henry Hudson is so important. And what was the point of leaving a smoke bomb in the front hall of the Palace of Versailles on May 6, 1682? I’m told I’m going to have to… gotta go. He’s home.

Nov. 8, 2013. I’ve been sent on a bunch of weird missions. The most weird was when G sent me back to 2008. See, I snuck former PM Tony Blair into Buckingham Palace and stapled old-people-face to his kind of already old-people-face. No one has noticed even until today. I still don’t understand why he made me do that.

Nov. 15, 2013. This last week was even more bizarre. He made me put on some suit and a red tie and shave my head, and then pretend to be in control of his weekly scab collecting group. I burst in, and told the vice president and current scab champion collector that I was in charge. We bickered back and forth for a while, and then G kicked in the door dressed in drag and began shrieking that since he was the vice president of the chess club next door he was taking over. Very odd.

Dec. 6, 2013: Charles Barkley recently abducted me and took me on a cruise ship with him. We circumvented the planet, stopping at various ports-of-call, and living the high life again. It was really awesome. Then sadly, today, I awoke only to find myself back on the couch of G’s apartment. Was it all a dream?

Dec. 13, 2013. Nope, not a dream. In fact somewhat of a nightmare. This week I was forced to go to work for G while he vigorously stayed home masturbating (I can only assume) and eating nachos. Work sucked. Firstly, I am not trained to do anything G actually does at his jobs, so I looked like a complete idiot. Oddly enough, some fellow who has a Bruce Springsteen complex and calls himself “The Boss” told me that my work had shown significant improvement today. I am pretty sure G’s jobs don’t involve a body count, though.

Dec 20, 2013. Just got back from a reconnaissance mission to infiltrate Charles Barkley’s place. G insisted I take the monkey from the open cage on the stairs with me. He told me the monkey was given special orders, and my job was to get the little guy into the house. I did as I was told. Once inside, the monkey went to every toilet in the house and proceeded to defecate inside the water tank of each one. The house was brand new, kinda, it has just been remodeled with semi used spray foam equipment. I don’t know what G is feeding that monkey, but damn!

Dec 27, 2013. Shit, I’m tired. G outsourced me to that dude who always invades via the apartment balcony to deliver bass strings to the bass player children of the world the other day. Turns out, I fucked up and gave a bunch of five and six string bass player kids, four string packs, so he made me go out AGAIN the next day to fix the problem. Turns out, that for some reason, descending into people’s homes via chimney is only considered acceptable behaviour one night out of 365. Or at least, that’s what police officers in 45 countries on the planet seem to think. I have to go out again tonight, but I’m just going to drop molotovs down the chimney instead. Fuck getting arrested again.

Jan 10, 2014. G sent me to the year 2018 to find some lady. Turns out she was laughing historically on February 6th. I return with this information. Not a very exciting adventure, and then me and the monkey play a game called hide G’s sandwich. The crawl space is full of’em.

Jan 24, 2014. I find a diary penned by a version of me, 8 generations ago. In clone generational math, that was about 3 minutes. Weird.

Jan 31, 2014. Today was a good day. I got to use my A.K. Daviel Batryan won the Regal Vibration. The WW’Eh Channel is available in Canuckstan. And the company hired a mainstream darling named D.N. Goth. This is the brightest timeline.

February 7, 2014. Went to the opening ceremonies. Yeah, that’s the ticket. The opening ceremonies. Many were lost in the battle today. I live on. Remember the fallen clones.

February 14, 2014. G said since it’s Valentine’s Day, I have to do something special for J.T. who is trapped in his apartment basement. When I asked why me, he screamed back at me, “THERE’S NO TIME!” and he proceeded to watch men’s doubles in luge. So, I took J.T. back in time to ride a brontosaurus. I don’t think he understand what I meant, but I have to admit, I’ve never seen a brontosaurus smile like that before!

February 21, 2014. G sent me back to lift Jamie Benn’s stick on a shot from the point to ensure the dreams and hopes of USA hockey fans were crushed like the hopes and dreams of Canadian WWE fans unable to order the WWE Network.

March 14, 2014. I was sent to get some popcorn from the future. Corn had become extinct in the year I was sent to. I searched for months and months (since time is relative) to no avail. When I was summoned back, I was repeated whipped and forced to drink bleach. I can see through time… Then I fell down a mountain and some random redhead giant kept shoving his pet snake in my mouth.
March 21, 2014. G sent me to be a ringer in some college basketball game today. Not sure why, he was mumbling something about busting 99% of people’s brackets. I think he really must have issues with shelves.
April 4, 2014. It’s been real quiet around here lately, ever since G took off to parts unknown. He didn’t leave me much to eat, and supplies are running dangerously low. That monkey is starting to look delicious. I wonder where Diddy keeps getting those Twinkies?
May 9, 2014. Finally home. G sent me on a very long bus trip where I was forced the wear a bunny suit and eat these little pills that made me feel funny. Every once in a while, a herd of these nut jobs on the bus and I would be led down to a boxing ring and play catch. But not catch with a dog or a ball. No. We had to catch this oily guy who must have kept slipping and falling off the ring apron every single time he went out to dance. I’m so glad that’s over with.


Shameless Plugs!



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