Hi. Martin Smith here. Some of you might know me as that guy who does the funny wee blog posts wae the slang through them. Some of you might know me as a friend. Some of you might know me as Martin Smiff wae the big beard. Some of you might know me as Marty Trousersnake. Some of you might know me as Glesgas own Ed Norton. Some of you might have read that last one, and thought tae yersel “That cunts no even fae proper Glesga, outskirts? Mare lit OUTCASTS!” and last but not least, some of you might know me as the most widely respected human being on planet earth.
All of you should know me as this though. All of you should know me as a fair man. I’m a guy who gives people chances. I’m a guy who for months encouraged his best mate to get creative again. After his music career stalled, and he found stagnation in his real life, I urged him to give writing a wee go. Here are some direct quotes.
Mon…mind we used tae write blogs on bebo? Yours were good.
A wee while after that I encouraged him further
Mon tae fuck.
Rounded off eloquently with this nugget of wisdom
Eventually Davey gave in, and decided to give writing about professional wrasslin a try. I was as proud as a peacock let me tell ye. My hombre. Mes Hermano. Mad Herman Curren. My main man. Writing hilarious things about wrestling. Sure, he sometimes misses out some details, but he injected a passion and humour into his piece that made me think “this kid’s got the stuff” Know the stuff I didnae anticipate him having though? Venomous hatred for the man who made him. Know who that man is? Me. I fuckin gave this prick a platform, and all he’s done is use it to undermine me. Openly calling me a hack, criticising my ideas, criticising my looks of all things! and generally being an absolute bism. I tolerated it for a while. With my annotations for his “Davey Thing” column seemingly keeping his uppity attitude in check. I also denied the odd request in order to assert my dominance as the boss. You want hauf scuddy photies through yer blogs aye? Build yer own empire then kid. Cause the Snapmare Necks empire was built on loving professional wrestling in a PG friendly manner. We don’t do nudity, swearing, sexual content or references to launching The Miz in the general direction of the sun. We do serious, strong-style wrestling, and I’m fuckin sick to the back teeth of being undermined by this cunt in my noble attempts to bring good clean wrasslin fun to the masses.
So I done what every good leader does. I chin checked a foot soldier who saw fit to step out of line. His latest blog was nothing more than a blatant attempt to tear me down, and it got fuckin dealt wae. Have a look for yersell if ye don’t believe me.
What some of you might not know about this saga, is that a physical altercation has occurred. At the recent SWA show in Cumbernauld, I was accosted by Davey, as he slung a terrible flying clothesline at me, which I no-sold tae fuck. Suddenly I found myself in a match, and I wasn’t quite sure how seriously it was being taken, until I playfully slapped on my patented “Heidthebaw Headlock” and this motherfucker saw fit to take me down to the ground. All of a sudden it becomes at matter of survival, and as he reached for my leg, probably in an attempt to lock in his sloppy Figure 4, I instinctively locked in a completely legal chokehold, and threatened to pull his daft heid clean aff if he didnae give up. After 20-30 seconds of pathetic begging, he finally decided he didnae want tae die in Cumbernauld, and he tapped the fuck out. So that’s me asserted my status, and physical dominance over the cunt. Should be enough for him to learn his place, and fall in line eh? It would be for most mortals, but Davey Curren is a special kind of prick. A prick who just wont stay down. A prick who has challenged me to a re-match London.
So I’m using todays Daily Thing to let everyone know, that I recognise his challenge, take it extremely seriously, and feel the need to give him an official response, and dae ye know whit that response is?
Not now, not never.
I do not need to prove myself to anyone. Particularly not a staff member who clearly disnae value his job, or his life. So there will be no re-match. Nor will there ever be any insubordination fae this clown again, cause if there is. He’s a goner. I don’t mean he’s a goner fae the site. I mean he’s a goner, from the planet. Planet earth. The one will all live on. Cause if I need tae put up wae his cheek one more time, I can assure every single one of ye there will be no wrestling match to settle this shit. One thing will occur, and that one thing will be Daveys demise.
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
Heidbuttin Davey tae death?
Thats a must
Todays video is pretty much me and Daveys friendship if it happened in Australia between two schoolchildern. If you ridicule the fat lad enough, he will floor ye. Lesson to be learned there.
And finally, a real life, recently taken snap of Davey. Proving that even in times of great distress, he cannae resist picking his beak and wearing those terrible pink shoes I always tell him tae leave in the house.