Hey kids!
So it is with great sadness and other similar negative emotions that I’m sorry to announce the end of Michelle Taylor’s illustrious major-league wrestling is over! No, it turned out that it wasn’t me who got to end her career forever- that honor went to Rose Jenkins. But I don’t think there’s any denying that I did a pretty damn good number on the stupid blonde bitch. And yes, I could have probably completely destroyed Michelle right then and there, but let’s be honest. Three F3’s (F9?) was kind of enough. It takes a while for me to climb that turnbuckle, jump, and get up again, and I thought a couple more, as self-gratifying as it might be, would have just dragged things out.
And besides, that match with Rose ended up being Michelle’s most entertaining match ever- if more or less for the dealings between Rose and Camilla.
So it is done. No more Michelle Taylor to poison the television screens of the FFW or SVW faithful. No longer Star’s problem. Never Gambini’s problem. Just the problem of whatever homeless shelter is unfortunate to get her carcass.
And, like I told all of you, there’s now absolutely ZERO debate on who the T&A Champion is. Nikkii Spainhower won that race and she deserves the belt. Unfortunately, instead of the focus being on her, and her victory, it was, But by the time the girls passed me, Nikkii was so far out in front, and such a shoe in for th evictory, that Arianna, in her frustration, decided to take it out on me.
It’s bad enough that Arianna intentionally jumped her pogo stick onto my foot, in an attempt to both injure me, and create controversy surrounding her loss. But then her wrothless piece of trash husband attacks me, knowing full well that my foot was injured, thanks to his wife. Too injured to be in a fight, that’s for sure. Ass
Well, anyways, the foot’s been healed up over the past couple of weeks, and I’m ready to get going again! And for the third show in a row, yours truly is getting involved in a debut match. First mine, then Michelles (although is it really a debut if it’s your ONLY match?), and now Don Tirri.
AKA Big Daddy. Six-five. Two eighty six poundage. And one hundred percent Finnish. I’ve actually got a bit of the Finland in me too, thanks to my great-great grandmother. I’m not exactly proud of that.
Because let’s face it, Finland (and the rest of Scandanavia) are prime examples of how all that socialism crap doesn’t do anything more than turn your country into one giant heap of government dependant bitches.
This is the home of the fucking Vikings were talking about here! The thousand year scourge of Europe! The people who brought us horned helmets and dragon headed boats and battle axes and Thor and Loki and Valhalla and pilliaging. I mean, for God’s sakes... THESE ARE THE PEOPLE WHO MADE WEARING BRAIDED PIGTAILS MANLY!
Not anymore. Nowadays, your average Scandinavian is about seven and a half times less badass than your average Minnesota Vikings fan.
See?
No more Hagar the Horrible or Freyja or Norse badassness. Now it’s all hydroelectricity, free universal health care, and Nobel Prizes. Just like the great Romans have become Brooklyn pizzeria owners and the Mongols have become sheep herders in a tortured landscape, the once-mighty have fallen.
“But wait!” You’re no doubt saying. “Don Tirri is different! You saw what he did to Millar!”
And that’s true. What Don Tirri did to Stupid Ugly Millar was nothing short of the highest order of awesomeness. And Tirri is big like a Viking. He’s strong like a Viking. He’s got the hair for a Viking. And most importantly, he smells like a Viking.
Dear GOD, he smells like a Viking. About the one part of that culture I DON’T miss.
But, no. It’s all an act, just like the rest of that regions supposed neo-Utopian bliss crap. Just look at the performers of his entrance music- Lordi, which on the surface, looks like Finland’s version of Slipknot.
Oh yeah, super scary evil-faces, right? Yeah, except for the fact that Lordi won the motherfucking Eurovision Song Contest. Now, I know most of you are Americans, and don’t have a fucking clue what the Eurovision Song Contest is, and, just be very glad you don’t. Here’s two other winners you might have heard of, though:
That would be ABBA, of “Dancing Queen” fame, and Celine “My Heart Will Go” Dion. And they didn’t quite win, but everyone’s favorite pseudo-lesbian Russian girl group has been there too:
Am I calling Lordi a bunch of posers? No, I’m just saying they’re the Celine Dion of Scandinavian Death Metal. And Don Tirri’s the TaTu of SVW: might look good at first, until you realize that its all just an act, and it’s really not that good of one to begin with.
But me, though? I’m the real motherfuckin deal. The Pollaskinator. The Northwestern Nightmare. The Hater-Player. The Troll Who Feeds Himself. The soon to be FFW Manager of the year, and the reason you flock to the television every other Thursday, Saturday, and Monday- and the Internet in the meantime. And I might not be the best wrestler in the world, but I’m a damn sight better than this buffoon. And on Monday night, when I kick his ass from one end of Baltimore to the other, I’ll prove it.
And all Don Tirri will be left with is the underlying gratitude that his country has universal health care. He’s gonna fuckin’ need it.
Polla. Out.
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