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Raw Is War 3.9.09

posted Mar 10, 2009, 10:07 AM by Steven Seagal
So last night the Rangers played an uninspiring game against the Carolina Hurricanes. They were shut out 3-0. The final goal was an empty netter which I should have bet on since the Hurricanes proved to be faster skaters after the 2nd period, consistently breaking free for odd man rushes and breakaways. I really should have bet on that considering my predicament. Given the state of the Rangers, I decided to enrich my dirty mind, poison body and dark soul with a blast from the past. I watched Raw last night. Not only did I watch it, but I took some mental notes so that I could construct a well organized analysis of what I witnessed. You can call me a loser for this but really, who the fuck are you? You're reading this post. You're the loser. Alright enough foreplay, here is my assessment. See the photo below for my first mind expanding breakthrough on the subject of Raw.
Yes, that's right. Raw is STILL War.
Now onto the show. When I was a wee lad, the divas were a scant few bosomy ladies. They weren't even called divas. They were called Ms. Elizabeth. That was it. Well that's all I can remember. I guess I remember her specifically because she was the first victim of domestic abuse I had ever witnessed. Her assailant and husband, Macho Man Randy Savage, then became my favorite wrestler of all time. I still practice the flying elbow smash onto couches, beds and handicapped orphans to this day. Later on, Sable came along and fought that black lady, I think her name was Jacqueline, over and over again until finally, FINALLY, Sable posed in Playboy. Boy that was great. Well anyway, now the WWF has challenged the NFL pregame show studio analysts population in depth. There must be 78 divas in the WWF now. That's not necessarily a compliment. In a women's' lumberjack match, about 25 divas parked their spandex-ed bodies outside the ring. Some looked hot. Some looked like they served time in prison. Some looked like dudes. I don't remember who won but I'll tell you who lost. I did. At one point all the divas ended up in the ring slapping and kicking each other with never a top to be fallen off. What a joke. This is shaping up to be a huge mistake.
Next some weird looking older lady named Vicky Guerrero was talking to Edge, whom my other personality quickly noted looks like Trevor from the Whitest Kids You Know. Take a look for yourself. You be the judge, you fucking naysayers.

Anyway, apparently Edge is married to this beast of a woman. She must have a big heart. That's all I can say.  So after some extensive research on this woman, I found that she is the late Eddie Guerrero's wife. Before Eddie's death, he was involved in a feud with Chris Benoit. Both are now dead. Eddie Guerrero died of an overdose or something. Benoit murdered his retarded son, wife and then himself, probably for eating all the Cheez-its. If I were Edge, I'd keep my distance from this bitch. That brings up what happened next on Raw. The Big Show and Edge were ready to sign a contract for their World Heavyweight title match at Wrestlemania when, Oh No! Is that John Cena's music! John Cena, the star of the Marine and the Marine 2: Twelve Rounds (opening March 27th in theaters only), rolls out with the crowds approval and quickly professes his love for Vicky. Seriously, what the fuck is going on right now? Cena says he loves her, which of course was simply a ploy to get himself inserted into the title bout at Wrestlemania in a menage a trois match against the Big Show and Edge. John Cena then shows the crowd a videotaped affair between Big Show and Vicky leaving Vicky crying, Big Show embarrassed and Edge seething. Edge deserves to lose at Wrestlemania for not power bombing Vicky through a Chevy Impala after all this shit. What a pussy.
Alright that was intense. What transpired next is a mystery to me. Chris Jericho was hosting Piper's pit and his guest was some old Japanese dude, possibly Mr. Fuji. It ended with Chris Jericho destroying the set and beating the piss out of the Japanese dude with a Singapore cane. Now Chris Jericho is in a feud with the Nature boy Ric Flair, who at this point, must be 467 years old and is STILL in better shape than me. Also, there is a commercial for the WWF hall of fame. Do you know who the newest inductee will be? Stone Cold Steve Austin. Man, do I feel old.
There is three way tag team match which isn't even worth mentioning except that Kane is in it with some suspiciously familiar man named the Miz. The Miz is a former cast member of the Real World or Road Rules or both. So there you go people. After starring in a really bad MTV reality show, your success peaks at getting kicked in the face by Rey Mysterio Jr. I forgot how this match ended but it sucked so you're not missing anything.
This seems like a good time to mention the WWF's sponsorship partners. In terms of sponsorship, the WWF is really pushing, Snickers, The Marine 2: Twelve Rounds (Starring Mayor Tommy Carcetti!!, opening March 27th in theaters only), Role Models, and a movie starring Trevor Moore/Edge called Ms. March. I like all of those things so I guess that answers whether or not I'm a part of the WWF's target audience.
So the main event is Triple H, or the Game as he called now, versus Ted Dibiase and Cody Rhodes. I can only hope that these are the real life progeny of the slave owning Million Dollar Man and Goldust. That must make for some fucked up childhoods. One's father is so brazenly rich that he has a slave named Virgil which he struts around in public. The other guy's father dresses in gold sparkling spandex and blows kisses to men, women and children. Anyway, Triple H's music keeps playing but he's not coming out for the match. His music is awesome too. I wish Motorhead would make a theme song for me, you know for walking to the store, taking out the trash or pounding 37 beers. I would own. The camera changes from the ring to the Legend Killer, Randy Orton's home with his wife. The home is obviously fake. There are no pictures on the wall, no carpets, nothing that would lead me to believe that the house belongs to Randy Orton. The place is barren, sort of like this website's fan club meetings. Now I'd be willing to bet you $994,000,000 that Triple H and Randy Orton are embroiled in some controversy. Why do I know this? Because Triple H just sledgehammered his way into Orton's house! He runs around like Jack Torrence in "The Shining", only in this case, he's probably loaded up on painkillers. Like me. Well this is pretty bad. Triple H finds Orton, and throws him through the living room window, leaving Raw to end with a Sheriff wearing a reflective vest, to arrest Triple H. I expect Triple H to be in jail for a long time. The Orton Family will surely press charges. I'm just glad that they didn't have any shit in their house for Triple H to destroy. That about does it for Raw. Let's just hope that Baseball season starts soon because I am losing my fucking mind.
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