Caitlin Clark vs. Gregg Doyel: a Gen Z Girl Being Hit On By a Million-Year-Old Dinosaur

 

A Little Bit

VERSE 1

A little bit annoying, a little bit weird

A little bit chunky, a little bit feared

A little introspective, a little out in space

A little bit friendly, yet you spit in my face

 

VERSE 2

A little bit tired, a little bit lazy

A little bit foggy, a little bit hazy

A little bit angry, a little bit sad

A little bit depressed, lock me up with the mad

 

BRIDGE

You took an innocent little boy who did no wrong

Called him every name in the book so he could be strong

But that shit doesn’t work, you disgusting jerk

The gentle young man now goes berserk

 

VERSE 3

A little unpacking, a little therapy

A little dark magic, a little heresy

A little bit of fun, a little bit of joy

Welcome demon man, goodbye little boy

A little black humor, a little bit of spice

A little bit of fire, a little bit of ice

A little bit hard rock, a little heavy metal

A little bit numbed out, no choice but to settle

 

FINAL LINES

Goodbye baby boy

Goodbye rattle toy

Hello burned out man

Break the cycle if you can

Put it off ‘til tomorrow

One more day of sorrow

Put it off another week

Keep the future bleak

Small Talk

VERSE 1

I don’t care about the weather, not now, not ever

Even in a blizzard, I can think of a topic much better

I don’t give a shit about how your day is going

I could go my whole life without once ever knowing

I don’t give a fuck about where your ass is from

Could you think of a question that isn’t so dumb?

I don’t give a damn about who your family is

I’m not a part of it nor someone you will miss

CHORUS

Fuck small talk! It’s boring!

All these words you’re storing!

I want peace! I want quiet!

I want motherfucking silence!

VERSE 2

I don’t give a rat’s ass about where you work

But telling you to fuck off will label me a jerk

I don’t give a flying fuck about your childhood

Sleep in your fetus jar like every child should

I don’t give a good goddamn about your car

Get your ass in it and drive away really far

I’d rather shoot myself in the fucking skull

Than listen to you give your string another pull

CHORUS

Fuck small talk! It’s boring!

All these words you’re storing!

I want peace! I want quiet!

I want motherfucking silence!

VERSE 3

An introvert’s dream is a Gracie Films shush

That goes unchallenged, not even a little push

An introvert’s paradise is a cat and a novel

Away from those who flap their gums and waddles

I’m not sorry for standing up for my own peace

I’m not sorry for making this conversation cease

Meaningless words fell on the deafest of ears

I don’t care if this makes me awkward and weird

EXTENDED CHORUS

Fuck small talk! It’s boring!

All these words you’re storing!

I want peace! I want quiet!

I want motherfucking silence!

Fuck small talk! It’s annoying!

There’s nothing worth enjoying!

I need rest! I need sleep!

Now beat it, you fucking creep!

Normal Is Overrated

VERSE 1

If creativity is considered crazy

Normalcy is considered lazy

If rock and roll makes me evil

Then fuck the holiest of people

If awkwardness makes me a pariah

Your social mask makes you a liar

If being me is a sin and a curse

Being you is ten times worse

CHORUS

Normal is overrated

Life is fucking wasted

Individuals sacrificed

For the capitalist price

VERSE 2

If normalcy will get me a job

I’ll lie on the couch like a slob

If mediocrity will get me paid

I’d rather sleep in the grave

If ordinary is the way to live

Two weeks notice I shall give

If average is the new future

I’d rather be a lowlife loser

CHORUS

Normal is overrated

Life is fucking wasted

Individuals sacrificed

For the capitalist price

BRIDGE

I’m too good for you

And your money too

You’ll never change me

You’ll just enrage me

VERSE 3

If you don’t believe in me

Set my crazy ass forever free

If you want to leave my side

The coffin is where you hide

If you want to cancel my career

I’ll give you something to fear

I’ll do whatever the hell I want

If normal is right, I want to be wrong

CHORUS

Normal is overrated

Life is fucking wasted

Individuals sacrificed

For the capitalist price

Dumb Asses

VERSE 1

A drug zombie with his Johnson hanging out

A drunken loony shouting gibberish so loud

Giving hand jobs in exchange for change

With a hairy palm all covered with mange

Giving blow jobs with infected bloody gums

Now you’ve got rivers of pus in your cum

These are the characters you see at a bus station

Or out on the streets doing public masturbation

CHORUS 1

Dumb asses should be a priority

Locked up by the highest authority

Locked up in a room full of white

Straightjacket fitting oh so tight

VERSE 2

Laughing at nothing but the wall in front of him

Shouting conspiracy theories about the government

Smelling like shit and a pack of cigarettes

Jaywalking blindly where the streets intersect

Everyone’s walking just a little bit faster

While the acid trip is his psyche’s master

His hand goes up an unsuspecting woman’s skirt

He squeezes so hard that it starts to fucking hurt

CHORUS 2

Dumb asses should be a priority

Everywhere we go, they are the majority

Buses, ferries, and even taxi cabs

Walking ain’t crowded, but it’s sure a drag

VERSE 3

I’ll never go back to this city anymore

Except to listen to music so hardcore

Except to eat at the best restaurants

Except to hold signs in the biggest font

A love-hate relationship with the clown town

For every breath of fresh air, a stain that’s brown

For every sane guy, there’re a hundred freaks

For every bus trip, there’s the jerk of the week

COMBINED CHORUSES

Dumb asses should be a priority

Locked up by the highest authority

Locked up in a room full of white

Straightjacket fitting oh so tight

Dumb asses should be a priority

Everywhere we go, they are the majority

Buses, ferries, and even taxi cabs

Walking ain’t crowded, but it’s sure a drag

FINAL LINES

Dumb asses should be a priority X4

Dumb asses!

Silent Warrior, Chapter 6

“I was beginning to think you actually served your thirty minutes with my dad,” said Adrienne with a cute smile as she held Scott’s sweaty hand in hers. While the two of them walked down the street together like a cuddly couple, Scott’s hand wouldn’t stop perspiring and his face wouldn’t stop glowing with strawberry redness. The more embarrassed he looked, the more Adrienne held onto his hand and smiled at him. “You don’t need to be nervous around me, Scott.”

“I know, I know…it’s just that…” Scott sighed as he searched for his words. “It’s been a while since somebody held me hand like this. I mean, are we…uh…what are we, exactly?”

“We can be anything you want, Scotty-Boy. We can be friends. We can be good friends. We can be really, really, really good friends. For all the world knows, we could be dating right now.” That last sentence really brightened up Scott’s tomato-colored cheeks. “You’ve never had a girlfriend before, have you?”

“Actually, I had three of them before you,” explained Scott, his eyes tucked low and not meeting Adrienne’s. “They didn’t work out too well, though. They were a lot like your dad in the sense that they didn’t give a crap about my introversion. Either that or they didn’t know it was a real thing. Constant phone calls, twenty-four seven, right in the middle of homework.” Adrienne gave him an accusatory look and placed one hand on her right hip. “That doesn’t mean that…” Scott stuttered. “I mean, you can call anytime you…oh, no…”

“I’m just screwing with you, Scott, you can relax now,” said Adrienne while swinging Scott’s liquefied hand. “Truth be told, I actually get a lot of what you’re saying. Sometimes you’ve just got to have your space, that’s all. But even with all that space, there still can’t be secrets between us. You have to find a balance between those things, you know?” A beat of awkward silence hung between them. “So tell me the truth, Scott: did you have anything to eat today?”

He sighed, “No, I didn’t. That’s part of the reason why I didn’t show up for our walk right away. I was at the gas station eating a microwavable pizza.”

“Lift up your shirt, Scott,” demanded Adrienne. Scott swallowed a nervous gulp and questioned his girlfriend before she asked him again to lift up his shirt. When he did so, he revealed that his ribcage was slightly visible. “I knew it,” she said. “You’re not getting enough to eat these days. That’s not good for you, honey.”

“Thanks, Mom,” snickered Scott.

“Scott, I’m serious. Didn’t you take health class in middle school? You would have learned all about anorexia if you actually paid attention.”

“I’m not anorexic!” snapped Scott, to which Adrienne’s accusatory eyes widened. “Sorry about that. You’re right. I should be eating more often than I do. It’s just that…it’s this goddamn dream I keep having every night. It won’t go away.”

“What’s it about?”

“It’s like…having an acid trip every night. There’s this puppet teacher and she’s always covered in worms. So are her students. And every time I try to take a bite of food, all I an see are those worms just crawling around on my plate. It took all the strength I had just to eat that gas station pizza. Goddamn, what the fuck is wrong with me?” Scott placed his head in his free hand and rubbed his temples, as if the face massage would actually ease his permanent pain.

Adrienne let go of Scott’s goopy hand and instead wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “I get it, Scott. School is a shitty place to be. It always has been. But if you don’t eat on a regular basis, you could die. And don’t even try telling me that’s a better option than living.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do? Every time I have something to eat, it’s just worms and maggots. I can’t put it out of my mind. I can’t see a shrink or else they’ll lock me up in a loony bin.” A little tear splash plopped onto the sidewalk, Scott hurrying to wipe his eyes away.

“I have an idea. How about instead of worms, you imagine something else over it. It’s like mental censorship. If you’re eating mashed potatoes, imagine gravy instead of worms. If you’re eating pizza, imagine more cheese and pepperoni instead of maggots. It takes a lot of time to master, but that’s true with pretty much any skill. That’s what being healthy is, Scott: a skill. It doesn’t happen overnight.”

Scott let out a deep sigh and said, “Okay, I’ll give it a try. If it’ll keep me out of the nuthouse, I’ll do it. By the way, how do you know all about this?”

“I see a therapist every Sunday morning.” Scott’s dewy eyes widened as if this therapist was a true alternative to the nuthouse he saw in Terminator 2: Judgment Day. “It’s true, Scott,” said Adrienne. “You get to sit on a comfy couch and talk about your feelings for an hour or so. It’s good for the soul.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute…You always seem so happy all the time. I mean, why would you…you know…”

“You of all people should know that what happens on the outside has little to do with what happens on the inside. My therapist got me through the divorce proceedings between my mom and dad. There was nothing happy or joyful about any of what happened between those two. I’m still hurting over it. I get that my dad can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but he’s still my dad. He should have protected me…”

A small tear welled up in Adrienne’s eye and Scott gently wiped it away with his shirt sleeve. He said, “Now we’re even,” referencing their shared moment in the cafeteria. She gave him a little smile and his heart pulsated with life once more. For the next twenty minutes, the two of them walked together in silence, just admiring each other’s company.

Scott still couldn’t help looking down at Adrienne’s bare feet in those sandals. He tried his damnedest not to get a boner in front of her as he admired those pink-painted toenails of hers. He even titled his head backwards so that he could see her soft and silky soles, which were his favorite part of the female foot. Adrienne thought he was staring at her ass and playfully swiped him away before giggling.

“Is this your house?” Adrienne asked. Scott nodded and the two of them stopped in the lawn while holding each other’s hands. They gazed in each other’s eyes and Adrienne couldn’t help but giggle again, while Scott’s shy guy smile was a little more attractive than his slasher smile in the locker hallways. “I had fun walking with you today. I learned a lot about you.”

“Yeah, uh…same here…heh…”

“Goodnight, Scott. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” Adrienne grinned sweetly at Scott before slowly bringing her face closer to his and planting a kiss on his already flaming cheek. The senior’s eye’s widened as his newfound girlfriend kissed him on the lips and swirled her tongue around his mouth. For good measure, she kicked off one of her sandals and rubbed her sole against his calf while kissing him deeper and deeper.

This was the first time in a long time that Scott’s oral activities didn’t involve worms and maggots. Adrienne’s lips and tongue tasted more heavenly than Crème Brule despite the fact that she had eaten a crappy school lunch just hours before. This was Scott’s instant vacation from reality, if only for a few seconds. He could stay in this beautiful kiss forever. He thought to himself, Fuck you, Mrs. Striker! Fuck you, Mr. Simpson! Fuck you, Alan! Fuck everybody…

“Oh my god!” said Adrienne as she broke the kiss with shocked wide-eyes. Scott began to kick himself once again as he assumed he was talking out loud the whole time. But how could he form a coherent sentence with another woman’s tongue in his mouth? And then Adrienne pointed down at Scott’s crotch and the offender stood proudly in the air.

Scott used his backpack to cover up his aroused manhood and profusely apologized to Adrienne, who just stood there not knowing what the hell to do. Any smile she once had was minimal at best. Instead of throwing more useless, “I’m sorrys” her way, Scott ran inside his house and bolted upstairs to his bedroom, where he threw the backpack on his bed and locked the door. He hoped in all of that turbo-charged madness that his own mother didn’t notice the wood jutting through his sweatpants. Otherwise, he’d have to kick himself even harder than before.

Scott placed a hand on his chest and kept telling himself to settle down before taking a seat on the bed and breathing heavily. “It’s just a boner. It’ll go away. They always do.” His breathing intensified as he laid back in his bed and pounded the mattress with his fists. “Goddamn it, why did I have to be so stupid!” He tried to say it softly enough so that his mother didn’t hear him. Lord knows she didn’t need to see Scott giving her a one-gun salute after a hard day of work. “I’m so fucking embarrassed,” he whispered while his breathing intensified yet again. He wiped the sweat off of his face and hands and closed his eyes for a while, hoping the boner would flatten sooner than later.

Silent Warrior, Chapter 4

Scott’s two classes before lunch (art and English) went by in a blurry haze. Every word coming out of the teachers’ mouths sounded like gibberish. Every assignment they handed out was met with indifference. The extroverted students who spoke up in class on a regular basis might as well have been speaking Chinese. The only thing missing from Scott’s zombie demeanor was the desire to feast on brains; that dwindled away once Tom Simpson was no longer within sight. It wouldn’t be fair to feast on the brains of neutral students from other classes.

The undead hunger would have to be concentrated on Scott’s lunch, which consisted of dry chicken nuggets, limp French fries, and a carton of milk that smelled like fruit salad. Even if the food wasn’t bland and boring, he still had mental images of worms and maggots juxtaposed on his meal. It would have been nice if his mind could conjure up the gummy worms he ate as a kid instead of corpse-eating critters.

Scott pushed his meal to the opposite side of his faraway table, where he was isolated from the rest of the school folk with his head tucked in his arms. He wondered if this would be a good place to release his biblical flood of tears. Though isolated, he was still visible from miles away. Surely a deafening sob would overpower the cacophony of student babble easily. They always did. It was funny how nobody was around to witness his achievements, but his peers and superiors would always be there for his downfall.

He tried to suppress a singular tear, but the splash on the table was as obvious to him as a cannonball in a swimming pool. He quickly wiped it up with the waist of his T-shirt while whispering, “No, no, no, no, no!” He couldn’t let his secret heartbreak get out. He couldn’t crumble into human ruins in the middle of lunchtime. Just one tear…it was only one tear.

Before another surge of salty fluids could rush out of his eyeballs, Scott felt a gentle tissue wipe away the remains of his sorrow. Through puffy red eyes, he saw the silky hand belonged to a freshman girl with dual brunette pigtails, a cutesy-wutesy face, and overall shorts with Birkenstock sandals. She smiled dimly and said, “You look like you could use some company.”

Scott shrugged his shoulders, snorted mucous up his nostrils, and said, “Sure, why not?” The little lady took a seat next to him and tucked her chin against her chest. Scott wondered if this girl was just as shy and awkward as he was. “It must have taken a lot of courage to come over here.” He couldn’t stop the words from pouring out of his mouth like rollercoaster vomit. He mentally kicked himself and quietly said, “D’oh!”

“Actually, it did,” said the girl, and Scott’s anxiety was replaced with warm tingling through is nerves. He felt as though he dodged the world’s biggest bullet with that one, in a high school where everybody shot from the hip, no less. “I don’t normally talk to cute guys, but uh…uh-oh…” Scott’s face turned bright pink upon hearing he was cute. “What I’m trying to say is…uh…”

“It’s alright, you don’t have to worry about me,” said Scott while patting the girl on the back. “I’m actually pretty terrified myself. If you’ve ever had Mr. Simpson for a teacher before, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” He took a swig of mediocre milk to sooth his scratchy throat.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m his daughter,” said the girl, to which Scott spit his milk all over the table and coughed. “You really should be more careful with spilling things on the table.” The girl took a few napkins out of her pocket and wiped the table down before they could get in trouble with teachers passing by.

“Look, I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to hang out together,” said Scott nervously with his hands in a defensive position. “I’m already in the doghouse with your father. He gave me half an hour of detention after school today, which I’m obviously not going to show up for but…where are you going?”

After throwing the napkins in the trash, the girl stood up and tried to walk out of sight. She spun around after being called out by Scott and said, “Just so you know, I only came up to you because I thought you needed a friend. My dad has that affect on people. That’s why my mom divorced him when I was nine. But if you don’t want to hang out, that’s fine too…”

The girl’s walking speed increased and her fists clenched tightly. Scott shot up out of his seat, threw his disgusting feast in the garbage, stacked his tray, and followed after her into the hallway. The girl furiously spun the combination wheel on her locker before Scott placed a hand on her shoulder and said, “Wait! Look, I’m sorry. I really am.” The tension in her shoulder eased to cotton softness. “I’ve just been having a shitty year, that’s all. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. Can we talk for a while?”

The freshman interlaced her fingers into Scott’s and said, “Of course we can talk. We can talk about anything we want. How about if we introduce ourselves before we feel like blowing each other off again. I’m Adrienne. Adrienne Simpson. And you are?”

“Scott George. Nice to meet you, Adrienne. Can I ask you a question? How do you know all about me and Mr. Simpson?”

“Because that’s all you ever talked about in English class, silly.”

Scott’s face grew tomato red upon realizing what the hell he’d been doing all this time. All of that zombie groaning. All of that muttering. Not paying attention to his own fucking actions. Had other students been aware of his grumbling the whole time and not just Adrienne? Why didn’t the teachers say anything? Maybe they did say something but Scott was too numb to realize it. The Novocain feeling in his brain wore off and the white hot pain of embarrassment and humiliation washed over him, leaving him so weak at the knees that Adrienne had to support him by the hips.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much if I were you,” giggled Adrienne while standing Scott upright. “That class is full of all sorts of weirdoes. You were probably just blending in, no offense by the way. I know this because I’m a weirdo too. And I’m proud of it!”

Scott’s short-term memory came splashing back to him once more. Of course that class was full of nerds and geeks, because it was about graphic novels. Jocks and cool kids didn’t read classics like Watchmen and Fun Home. Well, they probably did, but only to snicker at Fun Home with homophobic slurs passing their lips every so often.

“You know what, Adrienne?” said Scott with a small grin. “You’re right. I’m proud of being a weirdo too. Goddamn, it feels good to say that. If I had said that anywhere else, I would have gotten my ass kicked for it.”

Adrienne patted Scott’s warm cheek and said, “See? This world isn’t such a bad place. You just have to find the right people, that’s all. Or in your case, let the right people find you. Tell you what, Scott, how about instead of riding that god awful bus, the two of us walk home together. Like I said, we can talk about anything you want.”

“Uh….well….um…”

“Come on, it’ll be fun! Just you and me! Nobody else! We can even hold hands if you want!” said Adrienne while smiling cutely at the fidgeting Scott.

The senior took a huge breath to settle his nerves and finally had the courage to say, “You know what? Fuck it. I don’t have anybody else around here watching my back. You and me against the world. Why not? What could go wrong?”

“What could go right is that you don’t have to cry your eyes out in front of everybody and you’ll actually have a reason to smile again. Come on, smile for me!” Scott’s attempt at doing so made him look like a psychotic serial killer, to which Adrienne giggled, patted him on the shoulder, and said, “Not a bad start. See you soon!”

With the buzzer sounding off once again, Adrienne waved happily at Scott and walked away to her next class. Though she had an adorable figure from behind, it was actually Adrienne’s bare feet in sandals that Scott couldn’t take his eyes off of. He felt himself going into zombie mode again, but this time with a slightly less frightening smile on his face. He shook his head awake before he could embarrass himself further by getting a public hard-on. Lord knows there wasn’t any recovering from that.

Next stop for Scott George was math class, which he was surprisingly alert for. He blew through the algebraic equations like an accountant on crack, seemingly forgetting all about Mr. Simpson’s detention notice from earlier in the day, if only for a little while. Adrienne was the only ally Scott had in this war against a hellish educational system. He couldn’t rely on his own mother, the other teachers, or the other students for a soft shoulder to lean on. He still had no idea what Adrienne saw in him that others didn’t, but with the speed at which he finished his math assignments, he was desperate enough not to question it.

Ghostbusters

MOVIE TITLE: Ghostbusters

DIRECTOR: Paul Feig

YEAR: 2016

GENRE: Supernatural Comedy

RATING: PG-13 for language and violence

GRADE: Pass

Dr. Erin Gilbert is a university professor who used to tinker with supernatural experiments as a child, but no longer believes in ghosts as an adult. When she investigates a haunted house disturbance alongside her childhood friend Abby Yates and her partner Jillian Holtzmann, Erin’s fascination with the paranormal is rekindled once more. The team adds subway clerk Patty Tolan and goofy assistant Kevin Beckman to their camp and they become The Ghostbusters. Despite public backlash and skepticism, the Ghostbusters continue to track down ghosts and demons in the streets of New York City using energy weapons and containment shells.

The elephant in the room with this movie is the all-female protagonist cast, which has generated an unfair amount of criticism from misogynists and fans of the original Ghostbusters movies from the 80’s. The last time I heard that much whining, I was babysitting puppies. What’s so bad about having strong female characters? Why must all badass women run around in bikinis and have fast romances with hunky men? The Ghostbusters don’t fit any female stereotype and they’re not sexualized in any way. They’re just everyday women that you would see on the street…except for the fact that they shoot nuclear lasers at ghosts and laugh in their doubters’ faces throughout the movie. In the end, if they can save New York City from being overrun by monsters and demons, they’ve got my support no matter what. Keep up the good work, ladies!

In addition to having strong female characters that destroy obstacles and defy gender roles in convincing fashion, you’ve also got a main villain who many people can identify with despite his evilness. His name is Rowan North and he’s the one who’s been unleashing a horde of monsters on everyone in sight. He is so awkward and weird that nobody wants to even be within ten feet of him. If you’ve ever been labeled as a weirdo during your younger years, you know how much pain this man is in. Hell, there are times when my own awkwardness gets in the way of personal progress. While Rowan’s anger toward a cruel and unfeeling world is understandable, never forget that he is a villain and his weapon of choice could destroy an entire city, maybe even the whole world. Would it kill anybody to give this guy a hug? Hell, even Erin Gilbert and Abby Yates could identify with Rowan!

Now that I think about it, there aren’t very many characters in this movie that are dislikable. The monsters are brutal and violent, the humans are quirky and humorous in their own way, and there are even actors from the 80’s Ghostbusters movies that reappear, although as completely different characters. The minute Bill Murray’s face popped up on the screen, the entire movie theater erupted with laughter. When even more actors like Sigourney Weaver and Dan Akroyd appeared in the movie, there was laughter and cheering mixed into one sweet package. This blending of old school and new will create a lot of cheerful and hilarious moments, crude insults and dark jokes included.

With this kooky cast of characters all in one movie, you’d be hard pressed to find a single sorrowful moment in the whole film. Since when did positivity and fun-filled entertainment become things to scoff at? Is all of this harsh criticism really about the main cast consisting mostly of women? Do you really need a sandwich that badly? Then for god’s sake, go to Subway and shell out five dollars for a foot-long! Heaven forbid that women find their own source of strength and shatter the glass ceiling into snowflakes. Ghostbusters has earned a passing grade from me not just for the fast-paced action or the silly jokes, but also for being a model for progressive change. Nothing stays the same forever, not even hate.

Ice Cream

VERSE 1

I saw you eating the ice cream on TV

I broke up with you so no one would see me

Side by side with a piggish eater

You ranked lower than a careless cheater

I saw you with hot fudge on your face

I saw you with chocolate all over the place

I had to get away, please try to understand

It’s not you, it’s me; I’m breaking up the band

CHORUS

He’s the loser, she’s the victor

If she’s superficial, you don’t have to miss her

To the victor go the spoils

Is that enough to get your blood to boil?

VERSE 2

Join the party, it’s not totally awkward

The host himself made the final offer

He’s keeping his lips tight about the breakup

But there’s still no chance to kiss and makeup

You can read his lips from a mile away

“Let’s sleep together” is what he’ll say

One letter off and you’re like a volcano

Yet she’s the one with the wings and halo

CHORUS

He’s the loser, she’s the victor

If she’s superficial, you don’t have to miss her

To the victor go the spoils

Is that enough to get your blood to boil?

BRIDGE

Hop in the car and get out of the arena

For this disaster, you’ll have to call FEMA

Don’t worry about useless small talk

If worst comes to worst, get out and walk

EXTENDED CHORUS

He’s the loser, she’s the victor

If she’s superficial, you don’t have to miss her

To the victor go the spoils

Is that enough to get your blood to boil?

If this is comedy, your sense of humor is dark

You make slaughter sound like a walk in the park

Just another item on the list of failures

That ship has left and you’re the sailor

WWE NXT: Eva Marie vs. Carmella

MATCH: Eva Marie vs. Carmella
PROMOTION: World Wrestling Entertainment
EVENT: Episode of NXT
YEAR: 2015
RATING: TV-PG for violence
GRADE: Did Not Finish


Being negative is not one of my strong suits. There was a time when I was young and immature and negativity came naturally to me. These days whenever I give a bad review, a little piece of me on the inside dies a brutal death. With that being said, if I don’t do this review, I feel like it will be a missed opportunity to tell it like it is. This needs to be said even though it’s already being said by tons of people. Hell, the NXT audience at Full Sail University in Florida are vocal every time Eva Marie steps through the gorilla position; they boo her relentlessly.

Carmella, on the other hand, I have no problem with. Yes, she used to be rough around the edges when it came to wrestling. Yes, her theme music gives me migraines. But the difference between Carmella and Eva Marie is that the former is capable of improving her game. Carmella used to get as many boos as her opponent, but after hanging around with Enzo Amore and Colin Cassady for long enough and standing up for her boys, those boos eventually turned to cheers. Maybe it has something to do with her funky dance moves. She can moonwalk, for Christ’s sake. Moonwalk!

Eva Marie doesn’t deserve the same praise as the other divas for her wrestling abilities. In fact, watching her wrestle is as awkward as my schizophrenic behavior in the grocery store line. I understand that she wants to get better and has even recruited the help of wrestling veteran and former WWE Tag Team Champion Brian Kendrick to train her. This isn’t a knock against Brian Kendrick, but when I watched Eva Marie on that episode of NXT battling Carmella, I didn’t see improvement. I saw drunken choreography without the breathalyzer test.

Here’s how the match went down. Carmella and Eva Marie got in several collar elbow tie ups and the latter had the former pinned against the corner for a series of unconvincing elbows to the face. Eva Marie’s strikes looked more like massage therapy than combat. So what does Carmella do? She throws that Jessica Rabbit clone through the ropes and lets her crash and burn on the steel ramp. And then Carmella did a little spinning dance and the moonwalk to excite the crowd. Eva Marie eventually got back in the ring and gave her opponent a series of weird-looking vertical suplexes. There were even times when Eva was setting up the move and it looked like she was having a tough time deciding which wrestling move to do.

Before my IQ dropped any further, I grabbed my Roku remote and fast forwarded through that match. I never figured out who won, nor did I care. If watching this match doesn’t make your brain hurt, listen to this. Eva Marie has actually been picking up wins since debuting in NXT, presumably to be pushed into contention for the NXT Women’s Championship, which is currently held by Bayley, a true wrestler in every sense of the word. Really, NXT? You’re the hottest thing going on in wrestling today and you want to push Eva Marie into the main event? You’re right. Eva Marie is red hot. Her matches burn my eyes!

If there is a God in heaven, then He will do the right thing and inspire the readership of the Wrestling Observer Newsletter to show Eva Marie no mercy in the award votes. She’s definitely qualified for Most Overrated, Worst Worked Match of the Year, and even Most Disgusting Promotional Tactic for botching the ending to an NXT match she had against Billie Kay. Either that or she’ll win the latter award just for being pushed. Bob Backlund, Jose Gonzalez, and Eric Watts are all wrestling legends who were given the Most Disgusting Promotional Tactic award just for being the recipient of a main event push. However, if WWE continues to insult their fans for buying pay-per-views instead of subscribing to the WWE Network, Eva Marie might get a reprieve from the MDPT award.

I need a shower. A long, boiling hot shower with easy access to my Head and Shoulders shampoo and my Axe Phoenix body wash. Writing this review didn’t feel good. Then again, negativity is never therapeutic no matter which channel it comes out of.

Mysterious Writing

Quick question before I begin: does anybody here know what a “whale road” is? When I first heard this term in college, I never once imagined that it could be interpreted as an ocean that Beowulf swam through just for fun. I actually thought it was a dirt road littered with fresh whale corpses that stunk up the place worse than a limburger factory in the middle of a cow pasture. You know what else confused me? “Romeo, Romeo, where art thou Romeo?” “I’m over here, you dumb bitch!” Yes, that’s an actual joke I used in Foe vs. Blade’s medieval fantasy story called Down. These two examples don’t even scratch the surface of what I like to call “mysterious writing”. It’s not to be confused with the mystery genre, which is a legitimate business considering that my first favorite book was a crime thriller called “The Cleaner” by Brett Battles. When I say “mysterious writing”, I mean writing that uses weird descriptors that take way too long to sink in. Shakespeare was the worst offender when it came to mysterious writing. Somewhere in his works is a description where he talks about a wreath being pulled down a metal pole that’s somehow supposed to represent a woman being a slut. Actually, a pole going into a wreath can be construed as sexual, but I don’t think that’s what Shakespeare was going for. In all of his infinite wisdom, he decided that it had to be deeper than a mere Freudian complex. Kids, take this as a lesson not to engage in deep writing unless you actually know what the fuck you’re talking about. Being deep is not the problem; being arrogant and confusing is. I don’t care how many Pulitzer Prizes you win as a result of using awkward descriptions. If you use awkward descriptions, chances are good you suck at writing. But of course, it’s hard to convince somebody of that when they’re making millions of dollars from royalties and living in houses with golden swimming pools in the back. In case you think I’m being mysterious by saying that, I actually mean swimming pools made from melted gold. The lesson you can take away from this blog entry comes in the form of a four-letter acronym known as KISS: Keep It Simple, Stupid. Nobody’s going to think you’re boring if you use a simple writing style. In fact, they may thank you for it in the long run. But if you’re going to be complex, then at least make it accessible to anybody who happens to live in the 21^st Century. I’m not saying you have to LOL at your BFF. In fact, you should never do that under any circumstances!

　

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

"Cold turkey’s getting stale. Tonight I’m eating crow."

-Green Day singing "Hitchin' a Ride"-