So I decided a while back that if I was going to be doing Smackdown Reviews regularly again, they’d be in plain English, with maybe the odd scottish word in there, so this is exactly what you’ll be seeing here. No extravagances, no drawings, no long drawn out tangents about me having recurring nightmares that involve Batista falling down a well, into a pit of discarded placentas, and having to eat his way out. None of that disturbing patter, just straight up writing about straight up wrestling…STRAIGHT UP PATNA. Lets dae it. (sorry do it…i meant do it…like the Nike advert but less sexual…cause that Nike ad campaign was about shaggin eh? Lets not kid ourselves. Nike wanted you to use those Air Maxes you splashed out on to entice broads back to the boudoir for some high energy pumpin..No tangents though, this is vital Smackdown based information so it is…really…no honestly…wrestling) Aye…Wrestling.
Its Raw time bitches. It’s no really because I’m writing this review a few days after. Let’s pretend. Pretending is fun. See, this paticular Raw had me baffled, I didn’t understand because 1. it was the most mediocre Raw of the year and 2. It was the most thrilling tragically beautiful Raw of the year. How can a show be both these things? I don’t know how, but it happened. Vince must have been like ‘right boays, let’s make everyhin shit, cept the last few minutes, we’ll make that gid’. That’s truly what I believe happened. I won’t give the surprise away in case you’re the only person in the whole world who never saw what happened.
Beak, Nae eyes and dunderheed aka Evolution are out to cut a promo. Trips says the shieldsies think they won, but Evolution will continue to fight until they ceast to exist. Batista’s no chuffed though, he’s wanting to know when he’ll get his title shot that Trips promised him, says he’s sick of the Shieldsies. Trips reminds him that he is the leader, but Batista doesn’t care, he wants his title shot tonight. Trips tells him wee Dbrys injured. He says Batista won’t want to be remembered as a guy who can’t end a fight and once they take the shieldsies down, he can have whatever he wants but until then no one is getting anything. Batista quits, does a wee wave and walks out. Trips is raging, tells him to run back to Hollywood but not to return when he flops.
RAW is the same show every fuckin week lately, and I’m getting sick bothering my arse aboot it. Don’t mistake this kinda grumpy start as the tone of this review eh? I’ll make it as sunny and hilarious as humanly possible as we go on, but I’d like tae say right away, that its gettin extremely difficult tae pretend tae be invested in RAW as a weekly show, when its full of the same shite. Same injustices. Same everythin, different toon. Yer client Brock Lesner conquered the streak, Daniel Bryan might get fucked over, and will certainly get a doing aff Kane. Big E and his marvellous bouncy chebs remains underutilised. Drew Mcintyre remains in the best shape of his life, so he can job to various Mexicans of various statures, and fuckin Batista. Aw the time. Batista in ma face wae his stupid tattoos and popsocks. I hate ye Dave. Ye’ve got considerably fitter and more able in the ring wae every passing week since yer comeback and I still hate ye wae a fiery passion. Fuck ye and yer permanently mistimed shanner of a spear.
Ahh Smackdown, mind how gid a show it used to be? Every saturday morning on sky 1, cereal in hand and butterflies in belly. It was all I looked forward to. But things change. And changed they certainly have. Lately Smackdown offers nothing, it appeals to me zero. I attempt to watch, I try so very hard but I usually pick my phone up and search pictures of Ambrose pierced ear instead. But, and here is where I contradict myself, this week’s show was good, really good. It was a packed with ACTUAL WRESTLING. Who’d a though it eh?
When a show opens with a delightful match it really makes life that wee bit better.
Justice for Ambrose.
In all my years I’ve never been exposed to such an atrocity as the one we were forced to suffer through on this weeks episode of RAW. I like to try to make these reviews fun to read. Interesting. Entertaining. I tend to type something close to the way I speak, and people seem to enjoy that. This week I am no mood for fun. No mood for hi-jinks. No mood to be the jolly joking japester that you’ve come to know and want to spend your lives with. For there is no justice in this cold cold world we live in. There are no rewards for those excel at what their chosen profession. Only jealous backstabbing cunts praying for their downfall. Dean Ambrose found this out to his peril on this weeks RAW as he had the United States Title, which he held so proudly, and defended so valiantly , STOLEN from him. Fucking STOLEN. No other way to describe this. Booking the champion in a 20 man battle royal with his belt on the line? You might as well have stuck one of his legs up his rectum, and made him defend it in an ass kicking contest (that’s how stringently we’re sticking to the no slang thing here…an ass kicking contest, deal with it)
Dean Ambrose of course fought like the warrior he is. Because Dean Ambrose is a winner, and winners never quit. As intrigued as a I was at the prospect of someone like Heath Slater, or Fandango receiving a much-needed push by storming in and taking the title here, neither of them are Dean Ambrose. So fuck them. Fuck anyone on the planet not named Dean Ambrose. Fuck their hopes, dreams and ambitions. Ugh. You guys, I am suuuuper cheesed off.
Justice for Ambrose
Know who else deserves some justice? Dolph Ziggler. Dolph Ziggler was eliminated from this battle royal by a sock masquerading as a snake. This time last year he was World Heavyweight Champion. Know who else deserves some justice? Damien Sandow. Damien Sandow was eliminated by a combination of Sheamus’ chest beating spot and Heath Slater, and without being disrespectful to Heath, that’s fucking depressing. It makes you wonder if they ever intended on putting the World Heavyweight Belt on Sandow, or if it was all a giant dick tease. It took me ages to “get” Sandow as well, and it seemed that as soon as I did, he found himself buried under a pile of unfulfilled promises and gimmicks that require him to dress in some manner of colourful suit. A TRAVESTY.
Ach I cannae keep this up. I’m no even that upset about Ambrose drappin the US Belt really. He done fuck all wae it, and with it passed off to a lesser talent, he’s free and clear to fulfill his destiny of one day having aw the belts. No just in professional wrestling either, I mean aw the worlds belts. It is Dean Ambrose’ aim to somehow gather in every single belt in the civilised world, and sit back with his feet up watching a thousand monitors dedicated to capturing the beltless masses having to walk around with their troosers at their ankles. I dunno if this is a weird fetish thing or whit. I don’t even know whit the fuck I’m talking about at this stage. Sheamus won the battle royal but. Sheamus is the new US Champ. Good for him eh? Rumour has it that he might be the guy the join Evolution and I’d be intae that. If only tae see him adopt their fake tanning routine. I’ve always wondered whit the contrast between tan and PURE UNADULTERATED GINGER would be like.