EPISODE 142: Stinkylaski

The following was posted on whirlybirdz.com.  The opinions expressed are solely that of the author, and do not reflect the opinions of Terrence Thompson, Wendy Briese, SVW, or anyone else.   You’ve been warned.
Hey kids!

Daniel Pollaski here, coming to you from the city of Brotherly Love!  Now, I know that it’s been a while since you guys last saw the Pollaskinator in action, losing a tough fight to Crazy Millar and his kitchen sink, but I’m back, and ready to kick some ass!

Tonight, I’m up against GAry Gillray, a bonafide sick motherfucker.  Now, I’m sure everyone saw what Gary tried doing to Erica Horton a couple weeks ago, and I gotta say, even I can’t condone that kinda shit.  Even the Troll that Feeds Himself has his limits on the bounty of good taste.  After all, its kinda tough to do a wrestling company when you’re fucking banned from every media outlet.

Besides, what Gary did was just so damned overdone anyways.  Trust me, I’ve managed a female prude for the better part of the last decade.  You honestly think Gary Gillray is the first person to try using sex as a method to get under a female rival’s skin?  Granted, Gary’s doing it a bit on the creepy side so I suppose points for delivery.  But still, not original, been there, done that. Blah.

And the blood licking thing?  Yeah, it sure looked fucked up, and it didn’t help that Erica was lying unconscious in the middle of the ring while he did it.  But gimme a break dude.  Her fucking SISTER supposedly does that to sustain herself, and you’re gonna tell me this is scary.  The only way that could be any worse if if creepy pervy Gary Gillray saliva feels worse than vampire lunatic Valerie Belmont saliva (okay, I know which one I’d prefer, but...)

And I know there’s this talk going around that I’m afraid of Gillray.  That I’m going through this not showering thing because I’m afraid that Gary will, in his terms “plunder my asshole” (obviously Gary’s never seen a fat person trying to wipe), and I’d prefer to keep my orifices slightly more on the pure side.  Now, granted, the sweat stained bodycheese might be a bit on the insurance side, but afraid of Gilray?  I think not.  There’s only two things in life I’ve ever been afraid of, and that’s the prospect of Kansas missing the NCAA tournament, and Wendy watching Notre Dame lose.  

I’m not afraid of Gary because I think Gary is all image, no substance.  There is nothing that is going to stop me from pounding his stupid ugly face all over Philadelphia, and that includes him.  He might have done it against Frigid Bitchcakes, but he ain’t doing it to me.  The only ass-plundering’s he’s doing is in his own, when he kindly retrieves the New Balance sneaker I’ll have lodged up there. 

Nah, on second thought, he can keep it.  I probably won’t want it back.

Polla Out.