Monster at Your Door

VERSE 1

There’s a monster at your door, though she looks like an angel

Taking pictures of your house from more than one angle

She won’t be the only one who shows up this evening

They got shotguns for popping, baseball bats for beating

You reach for the gun locked inside your steel cabinet

You got a machete to turn their clothes into cabbage

You got a one-way ticket in case you need to dip

But for now, no movement, just zip your fucking lip

VERSE 2

You can cross the country and then cross the ocean

But the monster’s fanatics are known for their devotion

If she gives marching orders, they’ll march your ass down

If you’re in the biggest city or the tiniest of towns

It takes a marathon sprint to get the fuck away

Until your legs crumble like they’re paper mâché

Until your heart beats at a million per minute

Until your sanity is pushed beyond explosive limits

VERSE 3

Nobody in their right mind will think this is fair

If they do, they got no brain under their hair

Monsters have short fuses over absolutely nothing

The tiniest infraction is worth a lifetime of cussing

Throwing a fit and making big ass scenes

They got fuck-you money and the praise of the machine

But if the history of tyrants is anything to go by

Their empires will crumble as they crocodile cry

Clown Grinder

Does this cheeseburger taste funny to you?

It’s ground-up clowns, the whole circus crew

There aren’t enough bottles of Pepto Bismol

To wash down the taste of Bozo’s big balls

There’s a blood-soaked war in your intestines

Bacteria and viruses with automatic weapons

Vomit your carcass inside the fuck out

Or they can exit through the Hershey Highway route

Hellfire fever immolating your soul

Acid trip dreams about your blistered asshole

Stay away from your bottle of Advil

Lest you want to drop a load heavier than an anvil

Get on the phone with the CDC

Clowns’ Decaying Corpses, eat lean beef

I hope someone sends you a Get Well card

“May your anal casualties again become hard”

Who’s in charge of the menu today?

They’ve got a billion in lawsuits to finally pay

Now you’ve got your check, so what’s for dinner?

The mind is strong, but food addiction is the winner

Get the clown grinder ready for another serving

Diarrhea Armageddon is never too unnerving

A weight loss strategy for the new age

In history books, you’re thin enough to be a page

A Chosen Destiny by Drew McIntyre

BOOK TITLE: A Chosen Destiny

AUTHOR: Drew McIntyre (ghostwritten by Sarah Edworthy)

YEAR: 2021

GENRE: Nonfiction

SUBGENRE: Wrestling Memoir

GRADE: B

If you’ve watched WWE from the late 2000’s to the 2020’s, you’ve seen the Scottish Psychopath Drew McIntyre on your screen, whether he was an arrogant heel, a brawling monster, or the WWE Champion during the pandemic era. If you want to hear his turbulent story about how he got to that pinnacle and all the obstacles between him and glory, you’ve cracked open the right book. I need to warn you, though, that this book reads like a lot of pro-wrestlers’ memoirs: a childhood dream turned reality with an overabundance of show-don’t-tell violations. Emotional moments that deserved time to breathe barely get a few sentences to describe how Drew was feeling in that moment, which is a shame considering some of the trauma he went through. “I was angry.” “I was sad.” “I wanted to wreck everything.” Not all of the writing is like this, but most of it is. That’s to be expected from celebrity memoirs. If that kind of milk-toast style bothers you or you’re not already part of the wrestling bubble, you may want to keep this book shelved. Otherwise, enjoy the ride!

If you can excuse the bland writing style, then you might be moved by some of these legitimately heartbreaking stories he tells. Winning the WWE Championship in an empty warehouse with no fans to cheer him on is the ultimate bittersweet moment in his career. It’s not nearly as soul-crushing as losing his physically disabled, yet highly optimistic mother to cancer in the middle of his WWE career. Or how about the time when he kept showing up to work plastered because alcohol was the only thing that brought him peace? What about the time when he was fired from WWE along with nine other wrestlers like he was an expendable foot soldier? These are all moments that would destroy any reader if they were explored in depth and with a more descriptive ghostwriter. They still tug at the heartstrings. They still hit me where it hurts. But like I said in the first paragraph, these legitimately painful moments needed time to breathe and develop. Just like Drew was robbed of his Wrestlemania crowd pop, we were robbed of a face full of tears. How’s that for irony?

I wrestled with myself (no pun intended) when trying to decide between a B or a C grade for this memoir. Ultimately, I settled on a B, because Drew McIntyre has an interesting enough life to justify penning a memoir. The way he talks about his obsession with wrestling as a kid and how he brought that fandom into his everyday life? That’s the stuff dreams are made of. Completely transforming his diet and lifestyle after getting fired by WWE? That and touring relentlessly on the indie circuit was exactly what he needed to get back into the company. Getting cheered on by his family in Scotland and his wife in America? That’s what kept him going every night. And then he eventually won the WWE Championship, but that, according to him, was only the beginning of much bigger plans. His newfound work ethic was an admirable thing to see in his process of maturity. But again, it would have meant more with better writing.

A Chosen Destiny is an interesting read, but only if you already follow wrestling. Maybe that was the whole point behind the marketing techniques. Maybe it doesn’t have to be massively appealing to be successful. Should I be more forgiving of books that have a super-niche audience? I’d like to think that’s a good idea. Maybe that’s why I’m being generous with my B grade instead of dropping it to a C. It is a good book for what it is, but I would only recommend it to other wrestling fans. In that respect, the memoir did its job. Drew McIntyre, on the other hand, will hopefully never have to do a long string of jobs ever again. Wrestling fans know what that means.

The Happy Park

ACT I

Welcome to The Happy Park

Frisbees thrown, puppies bark

Novels read underneath the trees

Relaxing in the warmest breeze

Children play on slides and swings

Monkey bars and trampolines

Even when the sun has set

The dark day isn’t over yet

ACT II

Wonder why the grass is colorful?

Elves are buried in shallow holes

Why’s there dragon fruit on trees?

A faerie army fell to their knees

Why are the swing sets so sturdy?

Dwarven bones thick and dirty

No Happy Park without sacrifice

Your favorite creatures cold as ice

ACT III

You don’t have to ask questions

As rainbow bubbles grab attentions

Live, laugh, play every day

Nothing wrong with our brutal ways

Your parents pay their tax dollars

So colorful critters will die and holler

Don’t mind the rumbling in your guts

Work a little harder if you’ve got the nuts

CONCLUSION

If you don’t appreciate genocide

We can always take a bulldozer for a ride

Be grateful for the shallow beauty

Picketing is for the fruity

We got the magic wands and staffs

Sorcerers and their belly laughs

Eight foot tall barbarians

Back up your youthful arrogance

Have a nice day! Come back tomorrow

Take the edge off your so-called sorrows

Play in the park and be grateful

Who cares if its history is bleak and hateful?