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UKFF: Post of the Year 2014


HarmonicGenerator

UKFF: Post of the Year 2014  

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LAST YEAR'S WINNER: Bray Wyatt has read Astro Hollywood's blog

 

The votes from the Post of the Year thread in Off Topic have been tallied, and the following shortlist received the most nominations. They are reproduced below in full over several posts, as some are quite long. Which was your Post of the Year?

 

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HarmonicGenerator on the Streak in 'The best angle ever?'

 

 

 

My pick for the best angle ever is one that started accidentally, and didn't actively become an angle until it was nearly finished, but retrospectively, was the greatest long-term angle we may ever see. It started when I was 3 and ended when I was 26. I'm talking, of course, about The Undertaker's Streak.
 
I'm classing the Streak as an angle even though, for most of its duration, it wasn't. By its end this year, however, it was the angle - the reason for Undertaker still wrestling, and one of the major selling points - if not the major selling point - of the majority of the past decade's WrestleManias. You could argue it was an angle that nobody knew was an angle until we were about a decade in. Taker slowly racking up wins against Snuka, Roberts, Gonzalez, Bundy, Diesel, Sid, Kane, Bossman and Triple H, and fans and WWE both begin to notice he has never lost at WrestleMania.
 
The first overt reference I personally remember is after the Ric Flair match in 2002. Taker, awestruck at the fact he survived an Arn Anderson spinebuster, stands on the apron and holds out all 10 fingers. 10-0. That's pretty impressive. It takes another couple of years for the Streak to really start to work its way into his WrestleMania matches, and for people to start to speculate about who might end it. This was a big part of the Randy Orton match, if I recall my own mind back then correctly. Orton was the Legend Killer, and the Streak (now at 12-0) was starting to become a legend, and a prominent aspect of the Undertaker's character, especially at 'Mania time. Orton could be the one to end the Streak. He didn't, of course, but it fuels another big part of what made this such a great angle.
 
The discussion and the speculation about who could end the Streak, and who should end it, and who deserves to end it, went on for at least a decade. It's been part of UKFF ever since I joined in 2007, I know that much. The best angles provoke discussion, and through its longevity, very few angles can compare with the Streak for amount of time spent talking about it. 2007, incidentally, is the point where the angle itself really kicks into gear, and becomes such a vital component of WrestleMania season.
 
The Undertaker's Royal Rumble face-off with Shawn Michaels, and his following match with Batista at WrestleMania 23 (15-0), show that he can still really go in the ring, particularly on the big stage of 'Mania. That feeds into the Streak angle - for the next half-dozen WrestleManias, Taker has one of, if not the, best matches of the night, even though the result of each one is a foregone conclusion. The drama is created through the fact the Streak might end, and everyone gets drawn in more and more through that fact. Even when it's a title match, it's really about whether Undertaker is going to lose this time. That's the angle they feed from year after year, and the challenge becomes how to keep that going.
 
Enter the Shawn Michaels matches, and a storyline encompassing the Streak that itself was a sublime piece of five-year long-term booking, beginning with that Rumble encounter and ending in 2012 with Hell In A Cell. 
 
2009: Taker, now 16-0, faces off against Michaels, and he comes closer than anyone else has to ending the Streak. Taker puts absolutely everything he has into the match, and (I think) disappears for a bit afterwards.
 
2010: Michaels is being driven mad by the fact he couldn't beat the Undertaker at WrestleMania, and puts his career on the line against the Streak. Doubt begins to stir in people's minds. Undertaker won't lose, of course he won't, it's WrestleMania, but would they really retire HBK? Yes. Taker wins, Shawn nearly kills himself - "STAY DOWN!" yells Undertaker before ending Michaels - but he will not give up. He will not stop trying to end the Streak. But it can't be ended.
 
2011: Or can it? Triple H's turn now. You could write hundreds of words on this match alone. I won't, because ShortOrderCook already did that for me last year. Read that review, by the way. Anyway, the match contains one of my favourite wrestling moments ever: Triple H hits the Tombstone, and for a couple of seconds, everyone believes the Streak is over. Ending the Streak is a matter of pride for Triple H and he gives EVERYTHING to it. But like Michaels the year before, Undertaker will never give it up. He wins, but he can't even walk out of the ring. The Streak has consumed him, and he is sacrificing his body and his wellbeing to keep it intact.
 
2012: Hell in a Cell. Again, Undertaker looks gone. Each year he returns, each year he looks a little more worn down, a little more haggard, a little older - and more vulnerable. He can't keep up the level of work he has in previous years. The Streak becomes more precarious each time he defends it. Again, there's a moment where everything thinks it's over - Sweet Chin Music! Pedigree! - but it's not. He wins. Just. And needs help walking out.
 
As I've mentioned, this is a superb five-year storyline in its own right. But it works as a subplot within the larger angle of the Streak itself. I'd argue that since Orton, it's been in the minds of everyone watching, but as an audience, we've spent the Michaels and Triple H years investing more and more in it. Taker only really comes back now to defend it. One of these years it's going to end. It's the talking point. It's the angle that comes back year after year, with only slightly changed circumstances, but it never becomes old or repetitive, whether that's through different opponents trying different tactics, or different kinds of matches (Menry and the Casket Match), but most importantly, through the realities of Undertaker's mortality starting to come through the supernatural aesthetics. The Undertaker who plowed through Snuka and Roberts, the Undertaker who hit Kane with Tombstones in 1998 and 2004, even the Undertaker who main-evented against Edge, is no longer there. The Streak has been his constant, to throw in a LOST reference for no good reason.
 
But it's not just because of Undertaker. The Streak has been our constant, as fans. I said at the start that I was 3 years old when the Streak began. A hell of a lot has happened since 1991 in wrestling:
Flair came to WWF.
Hogan left.
Bret became champion.
The New Generation.
Michaels became champion.
The nWo.
Austin 3:16.
The Monday Night Wars.
The Attitude Era.
Rock vs. Austin.
WCW goes out of business.
The Invasion.
The Brand Extension.
Angle, Benoit and Guerrero.
Cena, Orton and Batista.
Punk, Sheamus and Bryan.
Generation after generation,
show after show,
WrestleMania after WrestleMania,
 
and the constant is the Streak. It's always been there. Undertaker does not lose at WrestleMania. It's a fact, it's a concrete certainty. No matter what else happens in wrestling, we know this.
 
Enter Paul Heyman. He doesn't get it done with CM Punk and urn-related mind games (21-0) but returns the following year with Brock Lesnar. Lesnar has been an absolute force of nature since returning in 2012, and Undertaker, once again, is looking ever more frail and physically spent. The angle of the Streak, this time, is whether Taker can withstand the brutality of a match with Lesnar. I personally didn't think he could, but he would still find a way to win, even if Brock destroyed him for the entire match. It's WrestleMania. The Undertaker DOES NOT LOSE AT WRESTLEMANIA.
 
And then he lost.
 
I remember the moment vividly. I had lost interest in the match itself, waiting for the three count and the 22-0 graphic. F5. 1. 2. 3. "The streak... is over." One of Michael Cole's best ever calls. Matter of fact, understated, but filled with a stunned sense of finality. The cameras showing the fans' faces in utter shock - and none of us can pretend our faces were any different. My jaw was open, hands over mouth, for ages afterwards - I can't remember anything about the Divas match that followed, or most of the main event for that matter. The silence of the stadium, filled only by Heyman shouting in disbelief to Brock. Then the groan as "21-1" came up on the screens. It was over.
 
Wins and losses are practically irrelevant in modern WWE, they're so interchangeable. But never has a single pinfall loss meant more to us as a generation than at WM30. People on here at the time equated it to Bruno losing the title, a level of involvement with wrestling we thought we'd lost. 
 
But it took two decades to build up that involvement. That first decade, or decade and a half, of the Streak not really being an angle, was completely necessary for the last few years where it really was. That's why I'd class the whole thing as one big angle. It's something we're never likely to experience again, and for the investment given to it over such a long period of time, by the company and by the fans, as demonstrated by the reaction when it ended, showed us all why we're fans of this mental form of entertainment in the first place.
 
The angle has ended now. Brock beat him. But has it really? The effects of it can keep on going. People have mentioned how Heyman's getting a little bit tiresome with it now, but every single time I hear him say that HIS CLIENT, BROCK LESNAR, CONQUERED THE UNDERTAKER'S STREAK, a part of me can't help thinking "fuck you, Paul Heyman. Just fuck you. I hope somebody beats the shit out of you for boasting about that. How DARE you gloat about ending the Streak. Fuck you, and fuck Lesnar too". How long they can keep this aspect of the Streak angle going, I'm not sure. Until a brave young contender defeats Lesnar, maybe, and beats the man who beat the Streak? 
 
I'm not sure. And I may have made absolutely no sense in the preceding forty million paragraphs. But I think the Streak, unintentional as it may have been, was the best angle ever, and I hope I've explained why I think that sufficiently. The end.
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John Matrix goes to The Expendables 3 premiere, in 'Matrix goes to town':

 

So yeah, been wanting to post this all day, but seemed a shame to do so without the photos to back it up.  Just managed to get them uploaded, so here we are.

 

As you probably guessed, yesterday I went along to the Expendables 3 premier – first time going along to something like that and had no idea what to expect other than a long wait and the feeling of a strangers flesh pressing against me for 7 hours.

 

As it goes, the time flew by, a thoroughly enjoyable experience – I couldn’t just go along to any one, but being amongst likeminded fans for the most part, you soon get chatting to people as it becomes clear that 11am till 5pm will drag severely if you don’t.  It wasn’t without it’s share of nobheads mind, people dressing up as Rambo etc in the vain hope we’d all be impressed and the inevitable autograph hunters, who, whilst pleasant enough, can’t go 30 seconds without telling you about the time they met Roger Daltrey, or someone else I couldn’t give a toss about – my favourite was the guy who told me about his friend in the media who gave him all the details of who was coming and where they’d be weeks in advance of anyone else so he always got to meet people – after a bit of cross examination, he let his guard slip, turned out he was paying £150 a month to subscribe to some mailing list.

 

The wait was made that little bit longer when they eventually announced the names of the people who’d be attending.  Under normal circumstances, I’m sure you’d be happy to see anyone, but when the USP of a movie is how many people they’ve packed into it, when only a handful turn up, that’s a bit of a let down.  No Arnie, no Ronda, no Crews. :-/ - it also had the worlds worst warm up guy, who I thought might be Mr G from the Russell Brand radio shows, but it can’t have been as he was funny as I recall.  This guy just repeated “Who’s gonna rap for some sunglasses” and “Make some noise” over and over again.

 

I’d been told Alex Zane usually hosted these things, but on this occasion it was Laura Whitmore, who I’ve only seen fleetingly on TV, but is stunning in the flesh although her involvement was pretty hit and mess and largely for the Yahoo stream.

 

Anyway, after standing in the same spot for 7 hours and feeling the bones in my foot start to evolve in an attempt to adjust to their new surroundings, it all became worth it when the first car arrived and, despite having seem him from a mile away at the recent Q & A, Sylvester Stallone walks right up to me, literally a foot away.  I had to make the decision pretty quickly, photos or autographs, I opted for the former and unfortunately, such was the frenzy, I never got the chance to snap Sly in close quarters although I did pick him up a little later from distance. 

 

I completely forgot he was married to Jennifer Flavin, who is STUNNING!  I have no idea how old she is these days but jesus, absolutely smoking.  I had a big thing for her and Kelly Preston back in the day, so if Travolta has any films coming out soon, let me know so I can compare.  It’s worth pointing out he has 2 gorgeous daughters too, and without wanting to sound too-yewtree, a younger one who looks well on the way to being – lucky for them they got their mothers looks.

 

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Next out, and thank god they did him early as I’d have felt for the poor bloke if he’d had to follow the big guns, was Kellen Lutz.  No idea who he is, doubt I’ll ever see him in anything else again, but even I’m not unreasonable enough to deny the man is a handsome bugger.  Tall, chiselled, and a jawline you could build a house on.  Impressive enough specimen, but not one I was overly arsed about – what was pretty alarming though, and representative of the people in the pen I was in, was that he seemed to get a bigger pop than this man…

 

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WESLEY FUCKING SNIPES.

 

That’s teenage girls for you.  Now in news that I hope will surprise absolutely no one, Wesley Snipes is the coolest man on the planet.  Like I imagine Carl Weathers would have been if you’d met him during the Apollo Creed years.  He signed for what felt like hours, took pictures, shook hands, repeatedly said “Yeoman” in a Jamaican accent, there was even a brief snippet of Simon Phoenix – suffice to say, like a truly gifted wrestler would, Snipes won over the crowd and was the only guy all day to get a chant of his name going, which is saying something when Sly was there.

 

Antonio Banderas was next out, but he didn’t bother coming our way.  So he can fuck off.

 

Last, but by no means least and easily the most handsome, suave and charismatic man I’ve ever seen in the flesh.  The Stath. 

 

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When all you know is the stoic Statham he plays in almost every movie, it’s easy to forget there’s a man behind the character, and what a man.  He must have shook ever hand, taken every selfie and signed every single thing put in front of him – while others did the rounds out of what felt like courtesy, Statham embraced the thing wholeheartedly and really got stuck in.  It was funny, at one point what were clearly his family members turned up.  I know this, because he hugged a man that was clearly his brother, and looked exactly like what one of those low rent celebrity lookalikes would look like.  I imagined his name to be Graham Statham or something similar.

 

And that was that really, it’s hard to describe how exciting it is to be in the presence of people you idolise, even for just a brief few moments, but I had a fantastic time, despite the waiting around and packed crowds which on any given day would be my sure fire kryptonite.  There were a few other people turned up, Vinnie Jones almost inevitably showing up along with other british hardmen such as Tamer Hassan and David Haye, and that massive rugby player who presents the UFC coverage on BT sometimes, along with a variety of anonymous faces from TOWIE, Made in Chelsea and the likes.  Oh yeah, and Amelia Lily of the X Factor for some reason, who had the crowd in the palm of her hands with insights such as “I love Stallone.  His movies are great” and “My new album is out soon”.

 

I almost forgot Wossy, who turned up looking like a tramp but who brilliantly didn’t mug around pretending it was his occasion and just waved and made his way in, which I respected him for.

 

Oh yeah, and then one of the PA’s who’d been camped out in our area handed out a few comp tickets, and yep…Matrix landed one just to cap out an almost perfect day.

 

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We got to watch the movie, introduced by the guys on stage along with the produces and chairman of Lionsgate, which was nice.  I’ll save my thoughts on the movie for another time as I’ve probably bored you all enough, but yeah.  All in all, a brilliant day and an experience I wont forget in a long, long time.

 

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Magnum's fantasy festival poster, in 'Create Your Own Festival Poster':

 

 

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Astro Hollywood's 'token black kid' story, in 'Crap Schools':

 

 

 

Anyway, who had a token black student? (Paging Woy).


"Fola Ogumba?"
"Here, sir!"

Good old Fola. Like Matthew from Desmonds, he was always harping on about his homeland of Africa, even though he was less African than Akeem. "I'm homesick, Millard" he said to me once. "I can't wait for 3pm either, Fola." "No, my white friend, I mean Nigeria," then he'd look off wistfully into the middle distance while the sweet sounds of Ladysmith Black Mambazo seemed to fill the air. One day, half a lesson was wasted as Fola went around the class telling everyone what their names were in Nigerian. "Fola, Fola, do me!" I remember proudly telling my mum how my name translated in Nigerian was Wuluah (or whatever it was) and she told me not to be so silly, "You don't translate names."

As the only black boy in our junior school in the late 80s, he was a novelty, and the headmaster himself once came into our classroom, spotted Fola and said "Ooh, haven't you got lovely fuzzy hair? May I?" and ran his fingers through it. "It's so soft!"

Fola Ogumba (it's fun to say his name) could piss onto the ceiling. And did, regularly, out of his little black cock. One time someone complained that they were always losing their pencils. Then we all piped up similarly, "me an' all, Sir!" Fola was made to open his desk, where 50 pencils were piled, hoarded like an African Mr. Trebus.

His foster-sister dressed and looked exactly like Boy George; dreads, make-up, big hat; the lot. For years, my young mind assumed it was Boy George, picking a little boy up from school in West Sussex every day before rushing back to Top of the Pops. His foster dad was some aul' white fella with glasses, and being the only black face for miles, his sense of black culture must have been very distant, hence all the Nigeria stuff, and banging on his desk like he was playing tribal drums.

One time, we accidentally wore each other's coats home, because they were the same. His fucking stank. When he eventually left the school, he did so in an overnight moonlight flit, leaving a mysteriously empty, pencil-filled desk, and an enormous unpaid dinner money bill. It was over a hundred pounds, which, to eight-year-old me and my chums, was as high as numbers go. One can only assume, besting Dr. Sam Beckett, Fola Ogumba finally went home.

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"I hear the drums echoing tonight..."

 

 

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Astro Hollywood on Jim Cornette and Alex Shane, in 'The Jim Cornette / Alex Shane Kickstarter Amusement Thread':

 

 

To outright paste what I said in the other thread, I'm fascinated by the mindset of someone who'd donate to a fucking BritWres kickstarter.

"My perks will be here any day now. Any day now...."

Just type up your letter to trading standards now to save time.

Also --
 

In February 2014, for the first time in his life, Jim is going to conquer his long standing fear of flights and jump in a plane to cross the Atlantic. The reason? To do a series of unique "shoot" style live shows, completely unscripted, where he rants and raves about a number of different subjects each night


Oh yeah, sounds ace. Go on, Jim, do your 'pretending to be angry' catchphrase. Go on, someone's asked about Russo, do the face! He's doing it! He's doing the face, this is brilliant! Hold on, someone's brought up a shit wrestler or something or other, and he's off again! What is he like?! He's said 'fuck' loads of times. THIS IS AWESOME *clap, clap, clap clap clap*

For a super rich property magnate and David Icke-following positive-thinker life coach guru, Alex Shane mysteriously hasn't personally got the 7 grand to fund things like "giving Jim Cornette a camcorder so he can film himself DOING THE FACE and BEING ANGRY while he's sat on the bog at the hotel."

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"Anyone pledging �250 or more will get a "thx m8" email from Cornette, and one FREE piece of buttered toast at the venue!"

The biggest risk we have is having too much great footage to work through and edit down into one killer documentary. Hence the more money we can make, the bigger editing team we can hire and the more streamlined we can make things.


Right, because with Hollywood films and that, where they shoot hundreds of hours of footage, everyone knows they have about two dozen editors. Money well spent, sign me up.

The video's going for a "What will outspoken crazy guy Cornette do in all these wacky situations?" angle. Gee, I sure hope he behaves monstrously towards a fast food employee, like that time he bellowed and screamed at a woman at the Dairy Queen, calling her a cunt at the top of his lungs while everyone giggled. There's a Drive-Thru package on there, celebrating that whole witty moment.

 

 


BeyondTheMATT meets Andre Baker, in 'lets all point and laugh at Fin Martin':

 

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Hi, this is my first post on the site, although I am a long time lurker.
The Alex Shane podcast talks about an incident where some fans were slapped backstage at a Hammerlock Show. I was one of those fans, and this is what happened...
 
Me and my friends Dave and Adam had been wrestling fans since around 1990 and had been to a few live WWF shows including Summerslam 92, and also met some stars like Bulldog and Big Daddy on the British circuit. It was the mid nineties when we heard from an acquaintance of Adam's named Mike White that The Anvil was appearing at a Hammerlock show. Mike was working the show as a referee and could get us some good tickets. Anvil was also doing a photo op, so we opted for the works and waited for the big day to arrive.
 
At this point I should mention that we had been to one other Hammerlock show before this where we were vocal members of the crowd. We hadn't long left school, so we were just cocky kids really. We thought it would be funny to boo the faces and cheer the heels. I must point out that we never swore. We were sensible enough to realise that in a crowd of eighty people, made up of many kids and old folks, that bad language would have got us thrown out and rightly so. We just tried to be clever, in a way that my middle aged self now looks back and thinks "what a dick". One example was Andre being involved in a weapons match and us repeatedly calling for such instruments of destruction as the spatula to be thrown into the mix.
 
Something about this first trip to Hammerlock should have set the alarm bells ringing. During one of our banter sessions, Andre, who was wrestling in a tag match, decided to completely pause the action, lean on the ropes and shout abuse at us. He called us little shits, and said that he had wrestled hard men, like Dan Severn in an Iron Man match, and that he would jump the barrier and sort us out. Please bear in mind he was playing a face (albeit miscast) up until this point. Needless to say, we were shocked, but laughed it off as we were the crowd and could express our opinion how we liked within the boundaries of decency and good taste.
 
On to the infamous night. We did indeed get good seats, not front row, but nice central ones a couple of rows back. Mike White had come through for us and really was a good bloke. Or so we thought. More on that later. It was just the three of us in our group and we were all around nineteen years old, immature for our age, just got our first proper jobs, all stood at about 5ft 7in tall and weighed about 10 stones apiece. I mention this so you can imagine how we looked a bit later in the story kneeling down crying in front of an entire dressing room of big tough wrestlers. 
 
The show started well enough, the first couple of matches came and went with us supporting the heels and booing the favourites. We did get noticed by the crowd and crew alike as we were very passionate in our musings. I think The Anvil had his match just before the interval. Possibly a tag match teaming with, or against Andre Baker, I can't quite remember. Andre did look a bit pee'd off during proceedings, but to be fair he had one of those faces. Then we had our picture taken with the Anvil. I still have it somewhere and may be able to dig it out. 
 
After we got our Polaroid we were approached by Mike White. He seemed a bit nervous as he told us we'd been invited up to meet the guys including the Anvil. We honestly didn't think anything was amiss. We were friends of Mike and believed that all wrestlers love the fans, especially ones who had shelled out a tenner for a bad photograph. We followed Mike up some stairs, where he paused to open the door and let us go in first. I remember Andre was sitting with his back to us, like how you see Marseilles Wallace in Pulp Fiction when talking to Bruce Willis, only still in his gear with a towel around his neck. All around the room were wrestlers in various states of undress, pre and post match. "Are these the ones?" he said, getting up, turning, and immediately slapping each of us really hard across the cheek.
 
I'm not saying he hit us as hard as he could, but he certainly hit harder than anyone had hit me before, open handed or otherwise. He then threatened us. He said he knew lots of bad people. He said that he hadn't got where he was in life without dealing with lots of bad people. He told us to get on our knees where he again slapped each of us around the face. We were snivelling and were told to be quiet. I actually felt the old sphincter muscle give way a bit, I'm not proud to say. I still didn't exactly know what we had done wrong.
 
He told us that we were confusing the fans. The fans came along to cheer certain wrestlers and boo others. He said that we made others around us unsure of who they were meant to be supporting. He then made us write down our addresses. I don't know what the others put, but I was so stunned that I put down my actual address. He then said that he had wrestled hard men including Dan Severn, and asked if we had seen the match. We all said no. We were WWF fans and whilst we knew of Dan's legacy, our limited exposure to him painted him as some sort of 70's throwback porn star with a dodgy 'tache. He told us he would send us a tape of his match against Dan to the addresses we provided. Conversely, we expected the mob to turn up at our doors rather than "The Best of Andre Baker Against Hard Men".
 
I'll take this opportunity to tell you what I saw of others in the room, and their reactions. Mike White was looking very sheepish and guilty. I think he has posted here, before? Well, I've not seen him since that day and I think he's a piece of shit for putting us in that position. The one other person in the room as angry as Andre was a ginger haired wrestler, possibly 25 at the time. I've no idea who he was but he was egging Andre on, a real nasty piece of work. Maybe others here can ID him? The Anvil looked really embarrassed by the whole sorry incident. He was used to working for a professional outfit and visiting sick kids, rather than making them sick with fear. Andre referred to Anvil by saying that he came all the way over here and didn't expect this nonsense to be going on. Anvil just mumbled something, shook his head and went back to stroking his beard. My friend remembers Doug Williams being in the room, blocking the door, making sure no-one else came in or out. At least he did not look happy to be part of this intimidation.
 
At his point I asked if we could stay for the second half if we kept quiet (what a wimp). He said we could make as much noise as we liked and that we were welcome. He made everyone shake our hands but there was a big young guy called Titan who wouldn't. He said he didn't shake hands with shit. We were told to go back to our seats which we duly did and became automatons for the remaining hour or so. From that day, I vowed never to go to a BritWres event and I never have. I am still friends with my fellow victims, one of which I went to Wrestlemania 28 with, so as you can see I still love my wrestling. I would have spent a lot of money over the years at British events if not for this incident, but who cares really? I now have two kids who I also won't ever take to anything from the British scene. I didn't exactly shed a tear when Andre snuffed it as you can hopefully appreciate. I never got my compilation tape of his greatest matches, but on the plus side my family were never ritually slaughtered in the middle of the night either.
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IANdrewDiceClay meets a giant spider, in 'Just seen a big spider':

 

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Fuck me. It was massive. Legs like Ahmed Johnson and the girth of Omar gigglestick. I've seen Troma films with villains less animated that this bastard. He was shuffing and doing the Brock Lesnar dance and all sorts. Never took a picture of it, because it has just been murdered using David Seamans autobiography. I've never seen anything like it. Never been a Spider-man, but this is a different level of 8 legged twat
 
Why did this happen? Why now? I thought it was just Daily Star bollocks, but true enough there was one there. In the front room. Watching Sky Sports News as Southampton scored the winner against Sunderland. Upon seeing it, I initially didn't believe it. I'm sure he had a Ben Sherman shirt on, it was so big. It was like when Father Ted saw Todd Unctuous trying to nick the Golden Cleric. This is not on. Anyone else seen one as cartoonishly big as I'm describing here? And were you as big a girl as I was?
 
 

 

Edited by HarmonicGenerator
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PowerButchi on Alan Parker and 'the worst experience of my life', in 'DVDs and Films You Have Watched Recently 3':

 

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Alan Parker is responsible for the worst experience of my life, so he can fuck off. Me and this lady were getting on fantastically, and I joined her back at her house where SHE WANTED TO WATCH EVITA. She knew all the songs, sang along, and wanted me to. In harmony. Instead I spent the entire film going on about Jimmy Nail like a real man as I didn't know before that Jimmy Nail was in it, singing "Ain't No Doubt" whenever he came on screen. She didn't like that.
 
As the film finally ended, I was going to finally get my tops and fingers. We adjourned to her boudoir where I put it to her ten cocks to the cunt whereupon she starts crying. When I stop and ask her what's the matter she replies "Evita always makes me cry!". We'd stopped watching it by then, and I'd decided I'd stop having sex with her as having sex with a crying girl is weird. She didn't want me to stop though. And got angry. The tears became tears of anger. Fury in fact. Fury because I didn't feel comfortable having sex with a crying girl. Now I'm scared. I deduce she's a stabbing type. I need to get out of there. But the first train home isn't for 3 hours, and I'm not about to walk home 2 hours in the fucking rain.. So like the total non-coward I am, I locked myself in her conservatory to get some sleep while she shouted all manner of insults, mainly pertaining to me not being a real man for continuing to bonk her until she got bored and went to bed.She was such a loon she didn't think to unlock the conservatory, or find another way to get in, or phone the police saying "Some fucking Geoff Capes looking twat's locked himself in my house". She just screamed and bawled, then got tired of it and went to bed.
 
She was the weirdest person ever. Just fucking strange.
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JNLister's Rough Book, in 'The Rough Book' (part 1 of 2):

 

-

 

 

(Warning: This post is long, self-indulgent, and contains some shockingly bad schoolboy "humour.")

So I was talking to somebody about the WWE Network and suddenly remembered that when I was a kid I wrote down a schedule for an imaginary wrestling channel on Sky. I had a dig through my junk and it turns out I still have it in an old exercise book. Reading through, it's entirely full of random thoughts and notes I wrote about wrestling aged 15-16 in 1992 to 1993.

It's not exactly a compelling account of growing up as a wrestling fan in the UK (for that you want the excellent Confessions of a Smart Wrestling Fan) but it's a weird insight into what occupied a weird kid's thoughts in an era that very clearly pre-dated Wikipedia or message boards.

Starting at the front, I've "amusingly" drawn a cover as if it were a published book, titled "The Rough Book" (though even more "hilariously", the spine says Romeo and Juliet.) For those lacking my advanced years, a rough book was what we had at school in that time for writing out a first draft of your essays/answers before copying out in best to the subject-specific exercise book -- with a fountain pen for my first year at school.

Inside we've got a list of expenses for Spiked Piledriver (the first fanzine I wrote for, which was just about to close) and then my first attempt at a wrestling channel line-up. It's a bit half-hearted and based on Sky's football coverage, with "Goals on Sunday" replaced by "Pins on Sunday" and the intriguing chat show "Locker room with Verne Gagne."

Next up is my top 10 WWF matches of 1992, where shockingly Hart-Michaels at Survivor Series takes number one ahead of Hart-Bulldog at SummerSlam. This may explain why I was marking out so hard over the last couple of months to interview both Bret and Shawn.

There's also a weird little diagram that compares the head-to-head records of Hart, Michaels, Flair, Savage and Bulldog during 1992. Bret actually comes out ahead with a 3-1 record.

There's a plan for a 121 page history of wrestling book, made up mainly of a year-by year guide, profiles of 250 wrestlers, a title history section and a list of facts. I assume PWI saw this before creating their Almanac a few years later.

Next we have the first of several attempts at poetry/lyrics, this one being the only serious one. Prepare to cringe.
 

In 1950 [sic] the legend began.
He entered this earth as part of God's plan,
To rescue the world; it was none other than,
The one and only Ric Flair - truly "The Man"

It was Buddy Rogers who first used the name,
That could take a man to everlasting fame,
He hung up his boots, but soon along came,
"Nature Boy" Flair, master of the game.

Mid-Atlantic, US, tag team -- all his pick
Seven world titles came before he would lick
29 foes with heart, brain and kick,
Just a walk in the park for the awesome "Slick Ric"

Inevitably came the moment where,
His opponent was tricked, lured into his lair,
Disposed of at once with hardly a care,
"And here is your winner" the immortal Ri Flair

And by the way, it's all his own hair.


Appropriately those fine word are followed up with a transcription of the lyrics from WWF Slam Jam where we lean that "everyone wants to pump with the British Bulldog" and that "we're the cream, we work like a team."

Then we have the booking for a WWF version of WCW's BattleBowl. I'm not sure if I did a random draw or not because there's a few suspicious foes-as-partners pairings. The best looking matches seen to be Scott Steiner & Ric Flair vs Mr Perfect (listed of course as Curt Hennig) and Samu and (workwise at least) Tatanka & Terry Taylor vs Tito Santana and Marty Jannetty. In the end Flair (who else) beats Bam Bam Bigelow in the final.

There's a plan for a Spiked Piledriver annual, which also came to naught. I don't recall what would have happened in the What If features (an idea later used in Hulk Who?) of What If... Jesse Ventura won the WWF title from Hogan and What If... Hogan beat Warrior at WrestleMania 6.

Next we have a major project with four pages of rankings and comparisons before I declare the 100 greatest wrestlers of my lifetime. It's fucking weird. It's a combination of technical ability and Apter mag hype. Bear in mind I'd not started tape trading and thus never seen anything before the mid-80s or anything from Japan. No Hogan of course. I hated Hogan.

photo2.jpg

We must be moving in to 1993 as I have my predicted line-up for WrestleMania IX. I was bang on the money with Hart-Yokozuna, Gonzales-Undertaker, Crush-Doink and Luger-Hennig (not Perfect, that was a silly fake name.) However, not all the TV build-up was finely pitched as I was anticipating Money Inc-Steiners, Michaels-Jannetty, Headhunters vs Nasty Boys, Bigelow vs Typhoon, Savage vs Lawler and Beverly Brothers-High Energy. I think my card would have been better.

Then we have the weekend schedule for my second attempt at a wrestling channel, which was mainly contemporary stuff in an era with many more promotions around. With news on the hour, it was as follows:

Saturday

6am: Sitcom (not sure what as this was before Rumble), channel open
7am: British wrestling
8am: European Wrestling
9am: WCW Main Event
10am: WWF Superstars
11am: Canadian wrestling
Noon: Wrestling Quiz
12:30pm: News
1pm: Talk Show
2pm: A live wrestling event (house show presumably)
4:30pm WWC
6 pm: LPWA
7pm: News
7:30: WCW Live event
10pm: News
10:30pm: Wrestling Tactics (like the football tactics show on Sky I guess)
11pm: Career History profile

Sunday:

Midnight: Smoky Mountain
1am: WCW Worldwide
2am: WWF Wrestling Challenge
3am: Classic card (aka Old School on WWE Network)
6am: Sitcom, channel open
7am: USWA
8am: Global
9am: Japan (not sure if this is a live event or just a long weekly TV show)
Noon: Wrestling Quiz
2pm: USWA (repeat?)
3pm: CWUSA (Portland as was)
4pm: Global (repeat?)
5pm: IWCCW
6pm: Smoky Mountain (repeat?)
7pm: News
7:30pm: WWF House Show
10pm : News
10:30pm: Highlights Show
11pm: Career History profile
Midnight: IWCCW (again?)
1am: CWUSA (again?)
2am: WCW Power Hour
3am: WWF Spotlight
4am: Classic Matches


Point being, even as the business was collapsing in the early-mid 90s, there was a fuckload of wrestling on TV in America.

We have a list of allegedly amusing sign ideas including "Ico-Pro Doesn't Work", "Is It A Stoat?" (a spectacularly obscure reference to a Mary Whitehouse Experience sketch misunderstanding the idea of badger baiting), "Yokokina" (you know, cos he used to be Kokina Maximus) and "Revelations 3:12 (or whatever") which was a badly-researched reference to the bit where Jacob wrestles an angel. It was also a spoof on the popularity of John 3:16 signs at sporting events, an idea that may have been better developed elsewhere in later years.

There's an unexplained list of matches that seems to be some sort of fantasy Smoky Mountain/USWA megashow with WWF involvement. Double main-event with Lawler-Hennig for the USWA title and Tony Anthony-Tim Horner for the SMW title. I like the look of Moondogs-Heavenly Bodies, Bruise Brothers-Rock 'n' Roll Express and Brian Christopher-Bill Dundee. I'm not so keen on Nightstalker vs Ron Garvin, Bushwhackers vs American Eagles or Orient Express vs Jeff Gaylord & Mister Hughes.

There's some sort of thing with complicated maths and bookmaker odds with the WrestleMania 9 line-up, the most notable point of which is that I was under the clear impression Jerry Lawler was wrestling Tenyru on the show.

Next up is my first attempts to piece together wrestling history using the ratings and video adverts from Apter mags, this one being the way all the territories merged during the Crockett expansion. Apart from mixing up Continental (Alabama) with Portland, and thinking Memphis was called Mid-Southern (because that's how it was listed in the ratings) it's pretty much on the money. Wikipedia killed this kind of fun for kids.

photo3.jpg

There's a list of places you could buy stuff from such as fanzines. Highlights include the intriguing "Louise Adams' grab bag" and the fact you could buy photos from a guy called Steve Pendle, who is now retired veteran Stevie Knight.



Then we have the first of the supremely witty parody songs, this one responding to media allegations about Hulk Hogan's drug habits:

When you come crashing down and you're in great harm,
You gotta get a needle and stick it in your arm,
If you found my friends, then you done a good job,
Wanna buy some of this, it's just twenty-five bob

I am a blatant drug addict,
Fight for crack legalisation,
I am a blatant drug addict,
Fight for what's right, drug parties all night

I can't distinguish between right and left,
And I can't take punishment for very long,
I've for something deep inside of me,
It ain't Ico-Pro; Who said HIV?


Yeah, take that. And there's more as I turn my attention to the Dustin Rhodes. Now, I might not have known how wrestling worked, and I might not really have got to grips with the whole booking idea, but I did somehow know that Dusty Rhodes was the matchmaker for WCW and that this could benefit his son, the reigning US champion. In fact at a WCW show in 1993 while Dustin was selling for Maxx Payne, I showed off the knowledge by shouting out "Your dad chose this match!"

Anyhow, I present:

Ameeeeericaaaaaaan Champion

He's just a common lad,
Who got a favour from his dad
He's just a common lad,
Who's father made him very glad

Hey, he's Ameeeeericaaaaaaan Champion
Hey, he's Ameeeeericaaaaaaan Champion

If you are black or white,
Dusty's offspring, that's all right,
Despite not having any skills,
He gave his dad some crisp new bills

Hey, he's Ameeeeericaaaaaaan Champion
Hey, he's Ameeeeericaaaaaaan Champion


Note the confusing manner in which the allegation changes from nepotism to bribery...

We have a plan for a 64 man tournament, though no booking. Seems to be a true worldwide event as it has everyone from Danny Collins to Johnny Hotbody to "Mr Onita" to Nikita Koloff. There's also a budget that includes everything from arena hire to promotion to hotels and travel and even $100,000 for insurance. The wrestlers get $1,000 if they lose in the first round, rising up to $1 million for the winner. It's OK though, because I'm going to sell sponsorship, sell 150,000 tickets at an average $35 across eight shows, run the second-round onwards on pay-per-view, make a profit, pay tax (take that Starbucks) and wind up with $10,454,100.

Who's in?

The next page has a list of Bret Hart's title defences during his first reign, presumably taken from PWI weekly. He defended in 39 times against 12 people, an average of one defense every 4.46 days. Flair got the most shots, 12, followed by Bigelow on 10.

There's also a list of every WWF champion's reign calculated in days, including cumulatively for multiple champions. It's exactly the same as the one now on Wikipedia, except with "Wanker" and "Scum" instead of Warrior and Hogan.

There's also a transcript of Flair's promo after winning the Royal Rumble. Remember that fact as evidence when voting in the UKFF's Favourite Promo poll.

The next page has a totally inexplicable list:

Nightstalker
LA Gore
Johnny Wildside
Patriot
Joel Deaton
Mike Doggendorf


Not a Scoobie's. Though Gore and Doggendorf have ticks if that helps.

There's a list of fictional odds for King of the Ring 1993. In my head I put �2 on Bret to beat Ramon at 1/5 (odds on), a fiver on Hennig to beat Hughes at 1/2, a tenner on Bigelow to beat Duggan at evens, a tenner on Luger to beat Tatanka at evens, and 20 quid on Hart to win at 2/1. Luger was second favourite at 5/2, followed by Hennig at 7/2, Bigelow 9/2, Ramon and Tatanka at 8/1 and Duggan on 12/1. Looks like I had the booking figured out as in the imaginary land where 16 year olds bet on wrestling, only Luger going to a draw let me down and I walked away with �17 profit overall.

There's three pages of notes summarising Jackie Pallo's You Grunt, I'll Groan, which I borrowed on special order from the library.

photo4.jpg

Of course, even while I'm writing this stuff down which pretty much summarises how wrestling works, I'm telling myself it's only the old British stuff which is fixed, unlike modern American wrestling. The penny really did take a long time to drop.

It all gets a bit referencey as I list the Starrcade 92 results, then try to compile a list of every major NWA/WCW show using Apter mag reports and video ads. There's also an attempt to figure out when every regional title and international started. I was a wrestling history nerd very early on. I wonder if I realised that 21 years later I'd be getting paid for it.

There's a loose leaf page which is a print out of the instructions I left my mum a couple of years later when I went off to university and left behind a video recorder, a pile of blank tapes, and instructions on how to change the tape every four weeks and then post it to me so I could watch a month's worth of Superstars and All American. I got university the wrong way round. I spent my third year drinking, but my first year working and watching matches with Tatanka and Sid.

The next page has my attempts to rate shows through a gloriously complex system by which matches are rated out of five. I'm not sure if I'd heard of the ***** system or made it up myself, though mine was definitely different:

5 = Classic
4.5 = Excellent
4 = Good
3 = Good/OK
2.5 = Average
2 = Dull
1 = Turd


There's then a bunch of numbers that I don't understand that translates it into a show score. For those wondering, the best show ever was SummerSlam 92 at 690 while the worst was WrestleMania 2 at 388.

That's followed by the even more complex video release rating system that takes into account the ratings of the matches on the tape, the duration, the price, whether there are any cuts, the quality of commentary, the packaging, the presentation, how good the tape theme gimmick is (again, -2 if it's "turd") and whether the matches are rare.

WrestleMania 3 wins with 9/10 (an "A"), followed by Starrcade 90 on 8 and Wrestling Madness (http://www.amazon.co.uk/Wrestling-Madness-VHS/dp/B00008T40O) and Starrcade 89 on 7. However avoid Supertape 92 and "Scumbag" (aka Hulkamania) on 3 and Superstar USA Championship Wrestling on 2, which is fair enough seeing as it's just one hour from an old Crockett TV taping from 1981ish with no commentary.

Next up is my masterplan for a merged WCWF. It'll keep the USA slots an air Mania, All American and Raw, while keeping Challenge, Superstars, Worldwide, Pro and Main Event in syndication. There are plans for each show, which add up to "9st,18bum" per week, which I assume means nine competitive matches and 18 squashes.

It seems I'll be splitting the rosters into two, named Northern and Southern, running separate house shows, a total of three from Friday to Monday and two on Tuesdays through Thursdays (with tapings Tuesday-Thursday every second week.) I'm not quite sure if or when anyone gets a day off.

Title-wise, the WWF and WCW belts become the Northern and Southern titles, the I-C and US titles are merged into the I-C title, and the TV title becomes the RAW title, defended every week on Raw.

The new PPV schedule is:

May: Slamboree
June: Beach Blast
July: Great American Bash
August: SummerSlam
September: King of the Ring (open to both rosters)
October: Hallowe'en Havoc
November: Survivor Series
December: Starrcade (winner of BattleBowl gets Southern title shot at WrestleMania)
January: Royal Rumble (winner gets Northern title shot at WrestleMania
February: SuperBrawl
March: European Rampage
April: WrestleMania

And yes, it's kids doing stuff like this that is why the Invasion show in 2001 set the non-WrestleMania PPV record.

Ooh, and then there's my first major show line-up, though I don't know why the champs are facing each other:

Northern Champ Yokozuna vs Southern Champ Vader
Northern Champs Steiners vs Southern Champs Pillman/Austin
Raw champ Paul Orndorff vs I-C Champ Shawn Michaels
Bret Hart vs Jerry Lawler
Lex Luger vs Sid
Rick Rude vs Curt Hennig
Vader vs Sting (erm, slight double-booking there)
Money Inc vs Steamboat/Douglas
Undertaker vs Barry Windham
Randy Savage vs Cactus Jack


BUYS!

 

 

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JNLister's Rough Book, in 'The Rough Book (part 2 of 2):

 

-

 

 

KOTR 93 is back again, this time with what looks to be the results of a computer simulation I'd coded in BBC Basic. This time Bret Hart and Razor Ramon go to a time limit draw and Hennig wins the whole thing beating Tatanka with a small package in the final at 10:04.

It gets really weird next. I think it's a record of my games and strategy in a computer management game of the 1986 World Cup, but it must have allowed you to create players as my first XI is Peter Shilton, Stuart Pearce, Bret Hart, Steve McMahon, Bryan Robson, Chris Waddle, Rick Rude, John Barnes, Gary Lineker, Peter Beardsley and Ric Flair.

More probability maths next with the SummerSlam 93 line-up and a list of numbers that correlate to weight in pounds, height in inches, something marked E and something marked F, leading to a score out of 100 which I appear to have used to create random numbers. Whatever the methodology, it has Hennig and Luger winning the titles, so screw that. Rather disturbingly there's a reference to an expected eight-man tag with the Quebecers partnering Well Dunn, but in the final line-up I only had room to type "Twats and Gays." But which is which?

After a chart trying to make sense of the weight divisions in different boxing promotions, I survey Pro Wrestling Illustrated, WWF Magazine and Spiked Piledriver, breaking it down the page count by news, views, featured, other, paid ads, in-house ads and photos. Oddly wrestling, maths and media analysis was not a hit with the ladies of Stevenage.

After the actual SummerSlam and Survivor Series 93 results, there's an initial fantasy plan for travelling round the US for 10 days, visiting shows in Memphis, Atlanta, Greenville and New York. Going all that way and only seeing four shows? Lol.

We have a WCW Survivor Series line-up. Main event of Flair, Anderson, Pillman and Anderson vs Rude, Austin, Regal and Roma looks OK, albeit with slightly more Andersons than actually existed. Opener of Scorpio, Bagwell and the Coles vs Slazenger, Pierce and the Nasty Boys, not so much. But in reality, BattleBowl 93 was even worse.


After a brief pause to list all 50 US states and capital cities, we have yet another superb parody song, this time imparting the wisdom that Scott Hall was merely playing a role as Razor Ramon.
 

When they come crashing down in the Razor's Edge,

My momma's standing up there, balanced on a ledge,
She's so depressed at my lack of pride,
I used to love the states, but I've let it slide

I am really an American
No way am I a f**king Cuban Man
I am really am an American
I can't stand it any more, it's like lying to your wife

I feel strong about right and wrong,
And this damn lie has gone on too long,
It's so annoying, it's getting to me,
I even lost to the Kid, 1.2.3.

I am really an American
No way am I a f**king Cuban Man
I am really am an American
I can't stand it any more, it's like lying to your wife

 

We have some sort of budget which is in deficit, the biggest problem being that I get �13 for lunch (weekly?) but spend �13.50 of that on blank tapes for recording stuff off the telly and tape trading. I appear to have consoled myself by writing out the lyrics of A Man Called Sting and Don't Step To Ron, the latter of which is hard because it has extended rap sections.

It's back to history as I piece together the crews and dates for every UK tour up to September 1994, concluding that Bret and Shawn hold the record with 8 tours apiece. Then we have another wrestling trip fantasy schedule, this time taking me worldwide as follows:

 

Stevenage - Croydon (All Star) - Puerto Rico (WWC) - New York (WWF) - Philadelphia (ECW) - Virginia (SMW) - North Carolina (PWF) - Atlanta (WCW) - New Orleans - Memphis (USWA) - Chicago (Windy City Wrestling) - Portland (CWUSA) - Los Angeles - Tokyo (All Japan, IWGP [what I though NJPW was called], All Japan Ladies [sic]) - Osaka (W*ING, FMW) - Hannover (tournament) - Bremen (CWA) - London - Stevenage.

 

Well, I got to Philly.

Some more PPV results, a list of classic matches on my tape collection (the highlight being a twenty minute match on tape #83 listed only as "Two Japs"), another fantasy tournament featuring semi-finals of Bret Hart vs Steve Williams and Ric Flair vs Bret Hart, and my plans for a combined ECW, W*ING, FMW show:

20 Man Falls Count Anywhere Match
Terry Funk vs Stan Hansen
Sabu vs Cactus Jack
Eddie Gilbert vs Kevin Sullivan
Mr Onita vs Abdullah the Butcher
Headhunters v Hawk & Crash The Eliminator
JT Smith vs Tasmaniac
Mr Hughes/Public Enemy vs King Kong Bundy/Shane Douglas/Sandman


Think I was over the "technical wrestling is best" bit by this point.

One more parody song, this time at an old favourite who was in Hollywood between wrestling gigs:

When Yoko came crashing down and it hurt inside,
I had to run away and find a place to hide,
All my movies flopped, so I turned to TV,
Play a 6'8" bald bloke, that's fine with me

I am an all-round entertainer
With the acting skills of Laurence Oliver
I am an all-round entertainer
I work for what's right, half a million a night

Every evening I put my kids to bed
I make them laugh by putting my pants on my head
I even did a cover of Leader of the Gang
Green Jelly did the music, I allegedly 'sang'


To round things off we have a list of ECW shows, followed by the match results and times of the first 13 New Japan shows on Eurosport. I remember the first one because it was on my 18th birthday. If you want to know why I spent my 18th birthday watching Eurosport, this post tells you why.

And the case isn't improved by the rest of the book being the listings for my five annual "top 100 babes" rankings, which I've previously detailed starting about halfway down the first page of this thread: http://ukff.com/lofiversion/index.php/t128950-0.html

So that's pretty much covered why I was single and with a limited peer group, and why I'm glad I did my early years of wrestling fandom before the web was a thing.

Well done on reading so far. As a parting gift, here's a picture from the back cover that was how a kid who can't draw for shit, but had a brief interest in bodybuilding thanks to the WBF, pictures a muscular man:

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