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Your wrestling childishness


JNLister

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and if you "Kamala'ed" someone you'd taken a brute of a woman home and pumped them.

Because you'd have to be legless?

This was before he lost them but in hindsight that's hilarious

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In a slightly less funny story of the same vain, I made my Mum's arse of a fiancé on Shut Your Mouth with terrible stats and then had him get destroyed in exhibition matches. Nothing says "you're not my real Dad" like having Rhyno hit the Gore through a propped up table in the corner. Repeatedly.

So that just gave me a flashback to doing a similar thing on WWF Attitude with the only girlfriend I'd had at school after she'd dumped me. I reckon I'd have been about 13, and me and a mate made a ludicrous super-heavyweight version of her, and then (rather prophetically) used Austin to drop her with endless Stunners. I've literally never remembered doing that until right now. What a little twat I was!

I did something similar with SmackDown 2 and a couple of lads at school who were twats to me, but I went a step further and made a version of me who had all the best moves and if I'd had a bad day, I'd put myself against them and repeatedly chokeslam them off Hell In A Cell.

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My shower has sliding doors like an Elimination Chamber pod. So I spit water like HHH and open dem bad boys up like I'm about to get speared by Goldberg. It's as much a part of my morning routine as having an enormous shit.

Again in the gym or before a match I do the Lesnar hop to psych myself up.

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Playing on the original SmackDown and always doing Special Ref matches just so I could beat both guys up all the time. Hardcore Matches was more about hitting my brother or Godfather with every weapon including the kitchen sink rather than go for a pin. Most of all, my Mum's shock to Mr Ass's entrance will always stick to me.

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Whenever I go to sit on my sofa I jump onto as if I'm being chokeslammed. I occasionally grab myself by the throat and do the tap dancing sell before I get lifted into the air and thrown onto the canvas, complete with me bellowing "bah gawd, that sickening thud" in JR's voice.

 

 

 

 

Yes, I'm single.

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Add me to the list of teenage boys who made their mates and a bunch of high school dickheads on the Smackdown games.

 

I'd do a lot of 3 on 1 handicap matches consisting of me and my 2 best mates, all with everyones finishers as normal moves (thanks to gameshark codes). Against the prick that bullied us, dressed in womens clothes, with the lowest stats and "womens special slap" for his finisher.

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Wrestling related childishness continued long into young manhood for me. In my university days me and my mates would regularly find ourselves transforming into Goldberg or the nWo after a few too many turbo-shandies and shots of Aftershock in the student nightclubs.

 

This is how I would walk onto any dance floor...

 

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Which always works best if your mate will help you out with one of these...

 

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This is how I would greet friends...

 

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While this is how I would greet strangers...

 

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Essential dance moves...

 

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3am...

 

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I tell you what though, if I had a dime for every bird me and my mates collectively pulled in those days through our sweet wrestling related game...

 

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My mate created "The Pebble," on an old version of Smackdown. It was an exact replica of The Rock, but as skinny and small as was possible. He insisted on always playing as him, but it eventually came to blows between him and another friend because he'd given him the Lou Thesz Press, which was almost impossible to reverse, which he spammed for about an hour. They didn't speak for ages.

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I used to regularly do wrestling with my pillow as a kid. I was giving that soft, limbless nemesis of mine the diving powerbomb where you let your body flatten out horizontally YEARS before Test showed up in the WWF and started doing it, I always though the Sid Justice "dropping to the knees" way of delivering it was for pussies. When we moved into the new house we inherited some really sturdy stools and often I'd put the pillow man on my mattress on the floor and do Macho Man elbows off one of the stools. Mama Raid was worried I would hurt myself, I think Old Man Raid secretly HOPED I'd hurt myself so he finally had an excuse to full-blown ban me from gay fake fighting.

 

At school there was always some wrestling related nonsense. Making our own wrestling Top Trumps with lined paper and felt tips, practicing piledrivers on the field, and during the peak of Bob Backlund's crazy old man heel run, I took great delight in running up behind friends I had a minor grievance with and slapping on the chicken wing. Even as kids, when you had someone in that hold you could feel that dislocating the shoulder was real easy if you wanted to do it.

 

I don't do that any more.

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