Oh hey, look! A WWE review for a show this week! Who’d’ve thunk it? Certainly not ThinkSoZombiEJoE, who opted not to recap RAW. As the abducted man in my basement would say, “Turrible”. But here I am, doing what no reasonable man should ever do: recap a Run-Away-From-Home Smackdown on the doorsteps of a PPV that will generate almost $0 in the US because PPV is dead, and everyone who gives two flying fucks already has the Network….

Hopping Time!

“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…”.

– Dean Ambrose cuts a promo about being beaten off by Orton, Kane, and Sethry on Monday. Did Joe tell you about that? No? That’s right, he was too busy helping clean up the mess they left backstage. Ambrose calls out Rollins, who appears on the Network-App-Tron and denies Ambrose a match as he tweaked his knee and is not medically clear. Ambrose thinks Rollins should fight his Dad, or for his Daddy, or Go Daddy, or Candice Michelle… BUT NO!!! Ambrose will face Kane later. Lame. That’s like not finishing your RAW review or something.

Handshakes in ROH? Pfft…. pussies.

– * Dolph Ziggler and Sheamus vs. Fandango and The Miz (w/ Joe’s RAW review). This one is all about the I.C. Title thingy on Sunday. Miz continues to worry about getting hit in the moneyshot-maker. Did you know Maryese has a twin sister? It’s a fact. At least Miz has a thing now that makes his matches slightly interesting. An ad airs for some new show called, “The Strain” during the break. I’m interested. Did you know? So are RVD and Jack Swagger. I’ve been enjoying some of these summer shows like Crossbones and The Last Ship…. this match? Not so much. Business picks up (FINALLY) near the end, as the jabrons do their octane stuff, and Ziggler hits his ZigZag two-paper-three-strain finisher on Dat Miz for Dat win. Joe’s RAW review invisibly stands by watching…

– Nikki Bella is the special guest referee for…

Japanese Wrestling. It can be as homophobic as American Wrestling.

– * Alicia Fox vs. Eva Marie. Oh shit god fuck damn… NO. FFW. Both of the “wrestlers” double team the referee because breast implants.

– Stardust and his brother do another backstage vignette. Nothing more is established much like Monday (me doing Joe’s job for him… again). Maybe these two are on vacation and all of these are pre-tapes? Seems that way. The Stardust thing has been very week this weak. You missed nothing.

– Thank god… Jericho is out next. He seems to be sporting a shiner… or maybe it’s the lighting.

– The Sting 2K15 ad airs again. Look, I want to see Sting in the WWE. I do. But fuck off, I am NOT pre-ordering a game because he is in it. That’s just foolishness. If you are, and already enjoyed the last few installments, that is fine. He is just a character in a game. And if he is additional bonus content, that means storylines around him will probably be minimal. Unless the DLC is one of two costumes, and this is just a character skin and they are recreating WCW storylines in this years installment (which I have heard NOTHING about), we’re going to see the IWC EXPLODE with anger when this title drops. Just saying. Don’t believe the hype. Was the 2K15 ad awesome? Fuck yeah, it was. It was great. I loved every moment. Fuck the game. Put this man in three matches over the next year. That’s all I want.

TNA would NEVER edit American fans into WRESTLE-1 One Night Only PPV

– * Chris Jericho vs. Luke Harper. Jericho is either donning the makeup or bruised. Looks good. Bray sits at ringside remarking about how Jericho had promised to always be there for us (like on Raw – Joe). But he needs not about saving us, rather himself. Insert cackling sound-effect here. Enter the Harper. Luke goes at him heavy and hard, and Jericho manipulates it well, neither appearing weak no dominating. That dude is money. Harper is a beast in this match! This is a great match up, and a brilliant mix of styles. Probably because both are Canadians. I couldn’t think of another Canadian on the roster on BWF Radio last Sunday… like I forgot to post a RAW review, or something (i.e. Joe).

– Bray watches on enjoying Luke’s dominance while Eric appears sheepish. Bray sends in the herd (one-man-herd), but Y2J launches an arial-Shining Wizard at him, and then wraps up Harper for the win. The Usos magically appear and have Jericho’s back. Jericho crumbles to the floor clutching his Orange Crush screaming, “AT LEAST I STILL HAVE THIS!!!” Spinal Tap was not reached for comment, but Derek had an excuse as he was detained for wrapping a cucumber in tinfoil and stuffing it in his pants while going through airline security. Big E is notified that since his last name in the SD reviews was dropped, as was the lawsuit filed against him via Harry Shearer. Principal Skinner, Kent Brockman, Mr. Burns, Waylon Smithers, Ned Flanders, Reverend Lovejoy, Dr. Hibbert, Lenny Leonard, Otto Mann, Rainier Wolfcastle, Dr. Marvin Monroe and many others were not reached for comment.

– The next three matches on the non-spoiler preview look like ass. Probably going to go into FFW mode here…

– Zeb Coulter is in the ring with Jack Swagger. Cold War 2.0. You know the deal. It’s fun, but maybe too much. They shill the PPV match. TATANKA RUN IN!!!! HOLY SHIT!!! No… that didn’t happen, but could you imagine? Triple Entente? CRUSH RUN IN!!!! No… just spilled Orange soda… Michael Stipe loses his religion. MAN ON THE MOON RUN IN!!!! No, it’s just R.E.M. watching via satellite at home. ANDY KAUFMAN RUN IN!!! Nah, shit, it’s just Jim Carrey selling Whiskey-flavored popcorn to J.T. and Jorge of BWF Radio (every Sunday at 2PM EST). In Living Color RUN-IN!!!! Nah, the Cult of Personality is too busy defecting to The Walking Dead and eating Beth Greene burgers on the set of season 5. “I Have Until Five, Ref!” RUN-IN! Nope, I Ambrose.

– * Kofi Kingston vs. Alberto Del Rio. Nobody cares. Del Rio wins. Don’t get me wrong. This was a decent match, but it was meaningless, and my patience is wearing thin.

Just like Luke Skywalker.

– Fandango meets with his former ladies backstage. Something about the two ladies sharing him. They mock him and run off. Bo Dallas appears and tells him, “If you love them, let them go… or they were never your’s to begin with…” And then to Bo-lieve that a new Diva will dance into his life. So… women are pets now? Hugh Hefner WINS! Fuck sakes.

Fucking Murphy… don’t get me wrong, I like the band.

– * AJ Lee and Paige vs. Layla and Summer Rae. Lee/Paige win. I lost interest and troll online. By troll, I mean talk common sense to idiots that think CM Punk is now wrestling for ROH. Yeah, bump for peanuts. LOL.

– The Usos are seen drinking Sonic beverages backstage, and I’m done. I think I saw a bald Hornswoggle. Stupid.

– Is Kane a Demon? Still? Fuck that, gone. I am forced to rewind to see a segment between Rollins and Kane about getting on the same Paige. Brazzers. Kane has no time back up cocktalk. Rollins wants to avoid something… Kane says something about a concert. Great. That was irrelevant. Obviously it was more relevant than ThinKSoZoMBiEJoE’s randomly capitalized author handle that reviewed RAW this week, right? Wait, my bad. Yes I will keep ripping on him. At least this appeared…. fucking lazy Joe.

– * Dean Ambrose vs. Kane. It happened. Dean was great. Kane was Kane…. slow and lumbering. Hence, Ambrose bumped like a champion and helped make the old bastard look good. Kane took some bumps, but seriously, this match was only good because of Ambrose. Don’t kid yourself. If you missed it, I suppose you are ok with the world. Hopefully you caught NXT (great show). Kane’s slow ability allows Rollins to run in, and the fight a bit… but then old man Kane hits his chokeslam. The heels bring some steel steps into the ring, and Rollins lands his curbstomp finisher again, and holds his luggage high in the air… TNA was better this week. Shocking, I know.

Such a sad day…

– What a shame. Another main event ruined by Kane.

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




Listen LIVE starting at 2 PM EST at Bored Wrestling Fan dot com, and where ever the hell Joe streams it this week.
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Make sure you tell’em “Jorge” sent you. I will give you a shout out, maybe even get herpes! Hey, free herpes! It’s a win-win situation, right?


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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. 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.

May 30, 2014. G said there is a special event this Sunday. I asked him what that meant. He looked at me with a dead stare for about 34 minutes, never blinking. Unrelenting, he opened his mouth and then closed it, and extended his middle finger. Great. Now I’m on monkey feces cleanup duty again.


Shameless Plugs!


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