The following blog was posted at whirlybirdz.com. The opinions expressed herein do not reflect the opinions of the WhirlyBirdz VHS, CPW or anyone but the author. So please don’t sue them.
Hey kids.
So, I just listened to the first CPW Podcast.
Yeah, I know, I’m a bit tardy to the party, so to speak, considering the things been up for a couple of weeks now. But for some reason, the link that was posted on the CPW site didn’t work for my computer. Eh, not anyones fault. My computer just sucks.
So yesterday, I had whipped out my Droid, and was surfing Amazon looking for some new tunes to DL (all this dealing with Michelle Taylor and Camilla Pazzini got me in the mood to listen to Queen’s “Fat Bottomed Girls”), and lo-and-behold, but I stumble across the damn podcast available for 99 cents!
After listening to it, I want my fucking money back!
Ah, just kidding. Actually, it wasn’t too bad for a first effort. Probably a bit long, definitely needs to go at a faster pace. But there were several awesome parts. Namely, the parts about me.
I gotta admit (and I mean this in a COMPLETELY non-homo way), there’s really nothing like having audio-fellatio performed on you by two guys you’ve never met before on a 99 cent per download podcast off of AmazonMP3. I mean, all that comparison to demolition equipment. I’ve been tagging myself as the Polish Powerhouse (y’know, cause alliteration ROX!), but the Human Wrecking Ball? I could get used to it.
No way in FUCK am I gonna call myself Bulldozer... not after finding this gem on YouTube.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=srJdpI6iUs0
Holy shit, that’s John Ojeda from PWX, isn’t it?
And for the record, I could totally crush an apple with my bare hands too. Or at least my teeth.
But those guys on the podcast sure seem to have bought into me. It’s like I’m the freakin’ chosen one or something. Y’know, the one the prophecy said would bring balance to the Pandas.
That’s right kids, I’m the muthafuggin Anakin Skywalker of Catholic Panda Wrestling. Except I’m already on the darkside- though I’d have done it right. After Palpatine took care of Windu, I’d have tossed his ass out the window too, and been all like “Galaxy’s mine now, BITCH!”
Ah, but I’m getting off track again. I don’t think anyone would be surprised to find out that I was a Ritalin kid. I mean, I have the attention span of a gnat. Lord knows how I manage to sit my ass down long enough to type these columns.
I doubt my opponent this week, Aoraki, has that problem, he seems like a focused, driven type. I bet he has OCD- y’know, kinda like the pro-wrestling version of Monica Gellar from Friends (although not NEARLY as hot). Hell, I bet he has a to-do list as well.
1. Sell House
2. Lift weights
3. Shut Pollaski up
4. Lift weights
5. Get banned from another sport for being too violent.
6. Lift weights
I think you get my drift.
If Aoraki has a flaw, its that the dude has no perspective about anything. We ALL get it, really. He’s a big, evil killing machine, and he’s going to break every bone in my pudgy little body and shut me up and bleed me dry and BLAH BLAH BLAH.
Seriously, cool story, bro.
But Aoraki can’t look beyond his own little rage to see the bigger picture. Because I crack off a few jokes I’m cocky, and chauvinistic, and think I’m invincible? Far from it. I probably have a better understanding of my strengths and limitations than he does. I just figure that if I’m gonna ask a bunch of people to pay money to watch me wrestle, or at least sit through some commercials, I might as well be interesting about it.
It’s no doubt I’m in for a tough fight come the airing of Zoo on Sunday. Hell, I might even lose. But be destroyed? Be silenced? Hardly,
After all, it’s damned hard to stop a Wrecking Ball.
Polla out!
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Friday, October 8, 2010
Issue #8: The Dearly Departing
Thursday September 30
The Nest- Driveway
Indianapolis, Indiana
9:34 AM Local Time
“You’re late” Terrence Thompson growled at his manager as Pollaski climbed out of the turquoise 2002 Saturn LS3000 he had parked curbside in front of the house. He barely paid Daniel any attention, however, as he was clearly more focused on trying to get the sizeable pile of luggage at his feet crammed in the trunk of his blood-red 1971 Dodge Charger.
“Sorry, traffic was awful,” Pollaski apologized, although he remained fairly certain that the Mechanical Mayhem had already stopped paying attention to him. Nonetheless, Pollaski trudged up the driveway towards his best friend and client. “Need any help?”
“Not unless you have a way of gettting Wendy to hurry the hell up,” Terrence growled again, irritably trying to stuff a duffel bag into the corner of the trunk, only to find that it wouldn’t fit. Tossing the duffel bag on the ground, the PWX Grand Prix Champion scowled as he reassessed the situation.
“Why all the chaos?” Pollaski asked. “I thought that we got this whole leaving thing down to a science.”
“Yeah, well, normally, we’re taking Theresa with us,” Terrence responded, his attitude softening just a little. “This is the longest we’ll have been away from her since she was born. I think it has her nervous as all hell.”
“And that’s why I’m watching her,” Pollaski responded, clapping Terrence on the shoulder amiably. “With Cassie’s help. And remember, this vacation’s for your five-year wedding anniversary. It ain’t gonna do any good to be impatient with your wife thirty minutes before you depart.”
“This better NOT take thirty minutes,” Terrence growled, looking again at the pile of luggage he still had yet to load.
“Wow, dude,” Pollaski responded, turning away. “A romantic to the end. I’m going to go see if Wendy needs any help.”
Walking away from Terrence and the Charger, Pollaski couldn’t hear his friends muffled response, but he could guess well enough. Swinging the front door open, Dan saw a gray blur darting towards the door. With the grace and skill of a FIFA keeper, Pollaski kicked out at the blur, which recoiled from his foot, The hesistation was just enough for Pollaski slip inside the house, and shut the door, effectively ending Chaunticleer’s attempt at escape.
“Not today, cat,” Pollaski smirked triumphantly.
Ignoring the cat’s baleful stare, Pollaski strode into the living room. Little Theresa was on the couch, watching Nickelodeon, although she grinned and waved at “Unca Powa” as he walked in.
“Hey squirt,” Pollaski said, returning the wave. “Where’s your mom?”
“Upstairs,” Theresa replied, her attention still focused on her show.
The light tread of feet turned Pollaski’s attention to the staircase, and he saw Wendy Briese, loose strands of red hair flying about her face,, jogging down the stairs, a clipboard in her hand. She stopped, and scowled as she saw her manager in the living room.
“You’re late,” she snapped.
Pollaski rolled his eyes. “You people have GOT to come up with better ways of greeting me around here.”
Wendy didn’t even appear to be listening. She glanced once at the clipboard she was holding, and headed off towards the laundry room.
“Where are you going?” Pollaski asked, leaving Theresa on the couch and following her mother.
“To clean out the cat box.” Wendy replied.
Pollaski could well guess the expression on Terrence’s face if he found out the trip was further delayed by Wendy spending fifteen minutes scooping out the litter box. He couldn’t get around her to block her path though, so he did the next best thing that he could think of- he ripped the clipboard out of her hands.
Wendy spun around, and Pollaski took a step back at the anger in her eyes. Wendy was a formidable wrestler in her own right, and she just got downright scary when she was furious. To avoid having to look at her scowling visage, Pollaski turned his attention to the clipboard. “You made a checklist?” he asked incredulously.
“We’re leaving for a WEEK, Daniel,” Wendy snapped. “I have to make sure the house is in good shape-”
“Yeah if it was going to be unoccupied,” Pollaski replied back. He glanced at the checklist again. “I can take care of all of this. You and Terrence go and have a nice trip,”
“But...” Wendy began, although her hesitation meant she was likely without an argument.
“Look,” Pollaski said, putting an arm around her shoulder, and steering her away from the laundry room. “I know you’re nervous about leaving Theresa, but she’s going to be just fine. Cassie and I can take care of her for the week.”
“But...” Wendy began again as they strode into the hallway. Wendy glanced over at her daughter in the living room. “We’ve never been apart this long before...”
“So?” Pollaski shrugged. “She’s four, Wendy. She’s not going to forget you if you’re gone for a week.”
“I know, but...” another pause. Finally, Wendy sighed. “You’re right...”
As that moment, the door burst open, and Terrence strode in, also suddenly looking less grumpy. “Car’s ready,” he announced.
Wendy nodded. “Theresa, we’re leaving!” she announced.
Theresa bounced off the couch and ran to her mother, who scooped her up and embraced her with a hug. “Bye mommy!” the little girl chirped.
“You be good for Pollaski, Terr-Bear.,” Wendy said., setting her daughter down. Wendy turned back to her manager. “I left some instructions and stuff on the fridge, as well as all the phone numbers I could think that you might need.” she said. “I was going to go over them with you but...”
“He can read, hon,” Terrence chimed in, smiling at his wife’s reluctance to leave. He tousled his daughter’s hair. “We’ll see you in a week, Theresa.”
“Bye mommy, bye daddy!” the little girl said, as she moved to stand at Pollaski’s side.
“Alright, let’s go,” Terrence said, almost half-dragging Wendy towards the door, and out it. As soon as the door shut, Pollaski and Theresa went back to the living room, looking out the front bay window as the Birdz got into their car, backed down the driveway, and pulled away.
No sooner had Pollaski turned around, then he saw Theresa back on the couch, watching the television. Shrugging in a ‘when in Rome’ sense, Daniel sat down next to her reclining in the chair.
“So what’s on?”
“Dora the Explorer: Theresa replied.
Pollaski shrugged as Theresa began humming the theme song to the show. It was going to be an interesting week.
================================
The following blog was posted at whirlybirdz.com. The opinions expressed herein do not reflect the opinions of the WhirlyBirdz VHS, CPW or anyone but the author. So please don’t sue them.
Hey kids.
So was anyone honestly surprised by that? All that talk. All that hype and blah blah bullshit from Michelle Taylor, and she lasts what? A minute and a half against me?
Its almost funny how much the dumb broad invested into this match, and then bombed completely. A chance at my title- her last chance at a CPW title for the next three months. She now owes me a new camera, and has to humiliate herself even further by wrestling in a fatsuit until she can win a match (which, at her talent level, is going to be a LOOOOOOOOOONG time...)
I’m sure there’s a valuable lesson Michelle COULD be taking away from this, but let’s be honest, education isn’t exactly her strong point. Then again, I’m not sure Michelle HAS any strong points.
Other than dumpster diving, of course.
So onwards we go, to the next Episode of Zoo, where I face my greatest challenge to date. And I’m not just talking about pronouncing his name. I think I almost got it figured out- A Iraqi?
Well, however you want to say it, there’s no doubt that Aoraki is one of the most dangerous dudes on the CPW roster. I mean, the dudes from New Zealand, and if the Lord of the Rings was any indication, that’s one hell of a tough place to live.
And somethin’s telling me that A-Man ain’t hailing from the Shire.
You can tell just by looking at Aoraki, that’ he’s one tough mo-fo. I mean, kicked out of RUGBY for being too violent? That’s actually a considerable accomplishment, I might say. It’s actually the same reason I got kicked off the North Kitsap Chess Team, although I’ll admit that just doesn’t quite scream “badass” as loudly.
But I guarantee you that Derek Kramer STILL looks over his shoulder in dread everytime he queenside castles. I done scar that muthafuga for LIFE.
But I’m getting off track here. The point is, that Aoraki is the first person I’ve faced in CPW that I can actually muster up a bit of respect for. It ain’t a fluke that the man’s carrying a goose egg in the loss column, You can tell that, for all the ego the man has, he also has a drive to succeed. Constantly training, never satisfied, always looking to improve. It truly is admirable.
But Aoraki seems to have taken issue with my words from previous matches. How I’m a bit too loose with the name-calling, and my lack of respect towards my opponents thus far. The catch is, like everyone else who is so quick to criticize (besides myself, of course), there’s three things that Aoraki needs to realize.
1. Aoraki claims that, by my own words, I beat three retards and a child. This is false. I’ve beaten FOUR retards, one of whom acts like a child.
2. I realize that me calling them retards would diminish the impact of my victory over them, but...
3. Dude, have you SEEN who I faced?
I’m not going with hyperbole here. That’s not just me talking shit just to talk shit. The last four people I stepped into the ring with are CLEARLY four of the dumbest people in professional wrestling. If not the world.
Look, I may be a greenhorn inside the ring, but I’ve been around this business for damn near ten years, and I know crap when I see it. Aoraki may not know this, but I write a ton of rankings columns, so I have developed a trained eye for who’s good and who isn’t in this business.
But like I said, I know Aoraki’s good. Good enough to beat the CPW Bamboo champion? Probably not, but as awesome as I am, that’s really nothing to be ashamed of. But he can rest assured, I have the utmost respect for him, and there’s no way I’m going to be overlooking a guy of his stature.
But whatever I say about the other members of this federation is hardly his concern. If he wants to break my jaw (a laughable solution considering I’ve yet to cut a promo), he’s welcome to try. But he’s gotta get close to hit me, and we all know what happens to people who get close to me.
Squish.
Polla Out.
The Nest- Driveway
Indianapolis, Indiana
9:34 AM Local Time
“You’re late” Terrence Thompson growled at his manager as Pollaski climbed out of the turquoise 2002 Saturn LS3000 he had parked curbside in front of the house. He barely paid Daniel any attention, however, as he was clearly more focused on trying to get the sizeable pile of luggage at his feet crammed in the trunk of his blood-red 1971 Dodge Charger.
“Sorry, traffic was awful,” Pollaski apologized, although he remained fairly certain that the Mechanical Mayhem had already stopped paying attention to him. Nonetheless, Pollaski trudged up the driveway towards his best friend and client. “Need any help?”
“Not unless you have a way of gettting Wendy to hurry the hell up,” Terrence growled again, irritably trying to stuff a duffel bag into the corner of the trunk, only to find that it wouldn’t fit. Tossing the duffel bag on the ground, the PWX Grand Prix Champion scowled as he reassessed the situation.
“Why all the chaos?” Pollaski asked. “I thought that we got this whole leaving thing down to a science.”
“Yeah, well, normally, we’re taking Theresa with us,” Terrence responded, his attitude softening just a little. “This is the longest we’ll have been away from her since she was born. I think it has her nervous as all hell.”
“And that’s why I’m watching her,” Pollaski responded, clapping Terrence on the shoulder amiably. “With Cassie’s help. And remember, this vacation’s for your five-year wedding anniversary. It ain’t gonna do any good to be impatient with your wife thirty minutes before you depart.”
“This better NOT take thirty minutes,” Terrence growled, looking again at the pile of luggage he still had yet to load.
“Wow, dude,” Pollaski responded, turning away. “A romantic to the end. I’m going to go see if Wendy needs any help.”
Walking away from Terrence and the Charger, Pollaski couldn’t hear his friends muffled response, but he could guess well enough. Swinging the front door open, Dan saw a gray blur darting towards the door. With the grace and skill of a FIFA keeper, Pollaski kicked out at the blur, which recoiled from his foot, The hesistation was just enough for Pollaski slip inside the house, and shut the door, effectively ending Chaunticleer’s attempt at escape.
“Not today, cat,” Pollaski smirked triumphantly.
Ignoring the cat’s baleful stare, Pollaski strode into the living room. Little Theresa was on the couch, watching Nickelodeon, although she grinned and waved at “Unca Powa” as he walked in.
“Hey squirt,” Pollaski said, returning the wave. “Where’s your mom?”
“Upstairs,” Theresa replied, her attention still focused on her show.
The light tread of feet turned Pollaski’s attention to the staircase, and he saw Wendy Briese, loose strands of red hair flying about her face,, jogging down the stairs, a clipboard in her hand. She stopped, and scowled as she saw her manager in the living room.
“You’re late,” she snapped.
Pollaski rolled his eyes. “You people have GOT to come up with better ways of greeting me around here.”
Wendy didn’t even appear to be listening. She glanced once at the clipboard she was holding, and headed off towards the laundry room.
“Where are you going?” Pollaski asked, leaving Theresa on the couch and following her mother.
“To clean out the cat box.” Wendy replied.
Pollaski could well guess the expression on Terrence’s face if he found out the trip was further delayed by Wendy spending fifteen minutes scooping out the litter box. He couldn’t get around her to block her path though, so he did the next best thing that he could think of- he ripped the clipboard out of her hands.
Wendy spun around, and Pollaski took a step back at the anger in her eyes. Wendy was a formidable wrestler in her own right, and she just got downright scary when she was furious. To avoid having to look at her scowling visage, Pollaski turned his attention to the clipboard. “You made a checklist?” he asked incredulously.
“We’re leaving for a WEEK, Daniel,” Wendy snapped. “I have to make sure the house is in good shape-”
“Yeah if it was going to be unoccupied,” Pollaski replied back. He glanced at the checklist again. “I can take care of all of this. You and Terrence go and have a nice trip,”
“But...” Wendy began, although her hesitation meant she was likely without an argument.
“Look,” Pollaski said, putting an arm around her shoulder, and steering her away from the laundry room. “I know you’re nervous about leaving Theresa, but she’s going to be just fine. Cassie and I can take care of her for the week.”
“But...” Wendy began again as they strode into the hallway. Wendy glanced over at her daughter in the living room. “We’ve never been apart this long before...”
“So?” Pollaski shrugged. “She’s four, Wendy. She’s not going to forget you if you’re gone for a week.”
“I know, but...” another pause. Finally, Wendy sighed. “You’re right...”
As that moment, the door burst open, and Terrence strode in, also suddenly looking less grumpy. “Car’s ready,” he announced.
Wendy nodded. “Theresa, we’re leaving!” she announced.
Theresa bounced off the couch and ran to her mother, who scooped her up and embraced her with a hug. “Bye mommy!” the little girl chirped.
“You be good for Pollaski, Terr-Bear.,” Wendy said., setting her daughter down. Wendy turned back to her manager. “I left some instructions and stuff on the fridge, as well as all the phone numbers I could think that you might need.” she said. “I was going to go over them with you but...”
“He can read, hon,” Terrence chimed in, smiling at his wife’s reluctance to leave. He tousled his daughter’s hair. “We’ll see you in a week, Theresa.”
“Bye mommy, bye daddy!” the little girl said, as she moved to stand at Pollaski’s side.
“Alright, let’s go,” Terrence said, almost half-dragging Wendy towards the door, and out it. As soon as the door shut, Pollaski and Theresa went back to the living room, looking out the front bay window as the Birdz got into their car, backed down the driveway, and pulled away.
No sooner had Pollaski turned around, then he saw Theresa back on the couch, watching the television. Shrugging in a ‘when in Rome’ sense, Daniel sat down next to her reclining in the chair.
“So what’s on?”
“Dora the Explorer: Theresa replied.
Pollaski shrugged as Theresa began humming the theme song to the show. It was going to be an interesting week.
================================
The following blog was posted at whirlybirdz.com. The opinions expressed herein do not reflect the opinions of the WhirlyBirdz VHS, CPW or anyone but the author. So please don’t sue them.
Hey kids.
So was anyone honestly surprised by that? All that talk. All that hype and blah blah bullshit from Michelle Taylor, and she lasts what? A minute and a half against me?
Its almost funny how much the dumb broad invested into this match, and then bombed completely. A chance at my title- her last chance at a CPW title for the next three months. She now owes me a new camera, and has to humiliate herself even further by wrestling in a fatsuit until she can win a match (which, at her talent level, is going to be a LOOOOOOOOOONG time...)
I’m sure there’s a valuable lesson Michelle COULD be taking away from this, but let’s be honest, education isn’t exactly her strong point. Then again, I’m not sure Michelle HAS any strong points.
Other than dumpster diving, of course.
So onwards we go, to the next Episode of Zoo, where I face my greatest challenge to date. And I’m not just talking about pronouncing his name. I think I almost got it figured out- A Iraqi?
Well, however you want to say it, there’s no doubt that Aoraki is one of the most dangerous dudes on the CPW roster. I mean, the dudes from New Zealand, and if the Lord of the Rings was any indication, that’s one hell of a tough place to live.
And somethin’s telling me that A-Man ain’t hailing from the Shire.
You can tell just by looking at Aoraki, that’ he’s one tough mo-fo. I mean, kicked out of RUGBY for being too violent? That’s actually a considerable accomplishment, I might say. It’s actually the same reason I got kicked off the North Kitsap Chess Team, although I’ll admit that just doesn’t quite scream “badass” as loudly.
But I guarantee you that Derek Kramer STILL looks over his shoulder in dread everytime he queenside castles. I done scar that muthafuga for LIFE.
But I’m getting off track here. The point is, that Aoraki is the first person I’ve faced in CPW that I can actually muster up a bit of respect for. It ain’t a fluke that the man’s carrying a goose egg in the loss column, You can tell that, for all the ego the man has, he also has a drive to succeed. Constantly training, never satisfied, always looking to improve. It truly is admirable.
But Aoraki seems to have taken issue with my words from previous matches. How I’m a bit too loose with the name-calling, and my lack of respect towards my opponents thus far. The catch is, like everyone else who is so quick to criticize (besides myself, of course), there’s three things that Aoraki needs to realize.
1. Aoraki claims that, by my own words, I beat three retards and a child. This is false. I’ve beaten FOUR retards, one of whom acts like a child.
2. I realize that me calling them retards would diminish the impact of my victory over them, but...
3. Dude, have you SEEN who I faced?
I’m not going with hyperbole here. That’s not just me talking shit just to talk shit. The last four people I stepped into the ring with are CLEARLY four of the dumbest people in professional wrestling. If not the world.
Look, I may be a greenhorn inside the ring, but I’ve been around this business for damn near ten years, and I know crap when I see it. Aoraki may not know this, but I write a ton of rankings columns, so I have developed a trained eye for who’s good and who isn’t in this business.
But like I said, I know Aoraki’s good. Good enough to beat the CPW Bamboo champion? Probably not, but as awesome as I am, that’s really nothing to be ashamed of. But he can rest assured, I have the utmost respect for him, and there’s no way I’m going to be overlooking a guy of his stature.
But whatever I say about the other members of this federation is hardly his concern. If he wants to break my jaw (a laughable solution considering I’ve yet to cut a promo), he’s welcome to try. But he’s gotta get close to hit me, and we all know what happens to people who get close to me.
Squish.
Polla Out.
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