If you have your finger on the Indie Wrestling pulse, you’ll have probably heard that PROGRESS were giving away their Chapter 13 show for free due to issues with their hard camera on the night. I heard this and immediately thought “Yass…I’ll watch the fuck out of that” cause I’d heard numerous good things about PROGRESS, and was particularly intrigued to see Jimmy Havoc morph into the evil probably murderous bastard that I’d heard he portrays in PROGRESS, but I didnae see the show blowing me away as much as it did. Gonnae write a full review of it tomorrow, but for now, here’s some reasons why I think you should stop whitever stupid shite you happen to be doing right now (unless its performing surgery, you should probably finish that first) and watch it until you can’t watch anymore, watch it until yer eyes are bloodshot and weary. Watch it until…well, watch it until its finished. The whole show. Dae it.
Aye so, I’m cheating the day. I’ve wrote a lot over the past few weeks, and I cannae be fucked arsed the day. Was going to watch the show Progress put up and review that, but I’ve decided to do that for tomorrows thing instead, cause I’ve designated this day do half hourly masturbation, and putting 15 different flavours of crisps in a bowl so that every handful I scoop up is a TASTE EXPLOSION.
Fuckin Edinburgh mate. I’m sorry if kickin aff wae “fuckin” wis unsettling for ye, but its best out there now, I promise I’ll no dae it again, tae the next paragraph at least. So Edinburgh. Been gettin acquainted wae it more and more since ICW are there aw the fuckin (aw ffs, thats the last time but, swear down) time noo, and I pretty much follow these cunts. We are wrestling supporters, faithful through and through. Its no bad. I feel like I’ve become more used tae the pace Embra folk go at and after gettin bumped intae quite a lot initially. I think its almost a warning for outsiders. They can smell it aff ye. Ye no used tae Edinburgh now? There a wee shoulder barge for ye. If ye can survive the initial shoulder barge barrage yer wecome back. Simple as that.
Soon as I wis informed its a half hour drive fae the bus station tae the venue, I started freakin the fuck out. A half hour drive between places in the same city? Fuck sake. I’m so gonnae die here. London’s too big. It needs tae be a lot smaller or we’ll aw just end up deid. Or at least wae sick doon us. Right doon the front ae yer jumper. Mom’s spaghetti. Nae two ways about it. It took cunts ages tae get intae a routine wae Edinburgh travel that didnae involve blind panic, and now its London. 8 hours on the bus. Only an ipod and a notepad wae survival strategies scribbled in code tae keep me company. Lets dae it.
Wrestling though. It’s aw for wrestling. It’s aw for showing these English punters what ICW is all about, by filling London fulla confused Scottish people, have them inevitably get frustrated, and start fuckin wreckin the place.