Post by adm on Sept 13, 2011 9:11:51 GMT -6
Everybody's journey is individual. If you fall in love with a boy, you fall in love with a boy. The fact that many Americans consider it a disease says more about them...
James A. Baldwin
*clap, Clap, Clap* Bravo. Bra ****ing vo. Good job there bucko. Seriously. No, the pleasure is all mine, let me partake in this little bit of a laugh here. HA, HA, ****ING HA! Yes, there, I got it out of my system.
For anyone wondering, that was completely me being spiteful. I beat you, Mr. Danny V whatever your name is, only to find out after our match, through Mr. Helms, that I defeated the former World Champ, legend and Hall of Famer, DAVE HOLLAND! Wow, can I call it or what. I had the name wrong, but I did know it was someone returning and hiding. Well, congratulations to my lovely intuition on that one. I'll add your name to the long list of legends I've beaten.
Right next to Adam Knite in tag, Ace, Spike Kane, Brad Kane, Jack Hammond, Gib and the rest.
So that brings me to my opponent for the week. Well, Mr. Venom. We FINALLY meet. I mean, you weren't here that long before I disappeared after losing the Tag Championships in the shortest reign in nCw history with my failure of a partner Jimmy Zane. We never met, I was, well, too busy being INfamous at the time. Then, when I came back, you were injured. And now look at you, back less than a month and beating guys like Mark Evil...I'm sorry, Venom, but I was doing that when I first showed up, in Xtreme Rules matches defending my Xtreme Championship. But I know, I know, you're a former Tag Champ, former National Champ, former Honor Champ. You've done it all...except what your buddy Velez did in being World Champion.
Too bad for that injury, huh?
So what do I know about Venom. I mean, I should take the advice of the great immortal Spike Kane and try and do a little research, but the thing is...I can't find too much on your personal life that interests me. I can't find a lot about your wins or losses that impresses. I mean, you faced Kanyon as Curtis and Diamond Dallas twice in the month I was working on the Coliseum and other things last year. Odd, you were clawing your way around, facing no-names while I was tearing up the place, being a special guest ref here, causing havoc there. The times when I was allied with former World Champion Rob Diamond was probably the best few months of my career, but the memories are over, and now it's time to focus on the big man from another campus come to, once again, try to make his name here.
Pardon me if I *yawn* am not impressed by your tenure here and *stretch* fail to be excited for this match as much as you'd wish. Mr. Venom, if that is indeed your REAL name, I'd really love to see you go play with some snakes and learn some tricks before you high-fly your way into my Suffocating Cubicle on Sunday. But then again, maybe your bark is loud and you'll have something intelligent to say.
Personally, I doubt it.
****
The weight room of the gym is full of other men, preparing for football, wrestling, or some other sport or just to look better. Kristoff Liam Bates is surrounded by temptation, the kind that is making his mind break and soul suffer. He has the aid of two ear buds pumping metal into his eardrums as he lifts the weights, lying down on the bench press. Two hundred and fifty pounds goes up, down, up, down, and up again before he releases and lets out an exhausted sigh mixed with a grunt. He opens his eyes, and sits up. He is having a hard time holding back the tears, not of pain, but of turmoil within himself.
"Why can't I bear to tell the truth to them? They deserve to know. Everyone does. I'm just too ****ing chicken **** to say anything."
Bates gets up and moves to the punching bag, taking out his frustrations onto it with kicks, punches, and elbows, practicing close-quarters attacks to throw Venom off his feet and into prime position for the Suffocating Cubicle or This Tie is Too Tight. He closes his eyes, visualizing Venom's chiseled body. He sees the sweat glistening off the skin of his opponent and steps back, breathing hard.
"MY GOD, what is HAPPENING TO ME?"
****
Now, I know you've probably heard the rumors. I'm sure you're going to say SOMETHING. I mean, the legend Mr. Holland in his mask said it last week. "You must be attracted to men". Wow, Holland/Danny V. why is it so easy for people to judge me, when I don't judge Steve Awesome for being a male prostitute...wait, he doesn't charge. But as I was saying, I don't judge. What I did judge, was Spike's drug addiction. I don't judge you, Venom. I don't predict you to win because of some mysterious legacy I've heard rumor of. I don't predict my win easily because you've been fed the curtain-jerking zombie of Mark Evil. I mean, seriously, isn't he supposed to be DEAD? People need to just stay gone, don't you think?
So let's talk, V. Can I call you V? So let's talk. What is it about you that makes you intimidating to most? Is it your name. I mean, venom is the poison that comes from spiders and vipers, deadly and dastardly animals that haunt the nightmares of most human beings. But you are hardly venomous. You aren't a spider, or a snake. You are a high-risk flying squirrel. You jump, hop, fly, flip and flail your arms and legs like a retard hoping to inflict damage. I, on the other hand, am cold and calculating. Much like my former profession, I am a man of technological intricacy. I put moves together in combinations to fully inflict pain on a particular body part. I am a master of submission, and rarely do anything else, unless it is of dire circumstance. So, with all that experience under your belt, do you think that your little arm flailing will do more than irritate me? Or do you suppose I'm another Mark Evil for you to conquer?
All jokes aside, I'm sure you're willing to come at me with everything you have, give your best, all that jazz. I'm not doubting it, I'm EXPECTING it. If you give me less than your best, you aren't going to like the outcome. I've never faced you, you're another face for me to stand up against, to smell, to taste the blood of, to triumph over or be triumphed.
Just open your mouth and refute what I've said, if you dare. Mr. Venom. That's just the way it goes.
****
"You really need to stop beating yourself up, Kris."
Johnathan is staring at Kristoff from the table, as he looks out the window of the hotel room at the city below. His mind is fluttering with thoughts of how far the fall would be, and whether or not he'd pass out before his bones shattered and splintered his corpse upon hitting the ground or not.
"What I need, John, is a drink."
"You don't need a drink, you need to get honest with yourself. You can't keep hiding forever."
He turns to John, a red streak of blood is coagulating under his left eye from where he had taken his letter opener and began mutilating himself, before stopping and calling John. Bates is afraid of himself, what he would do if the structure of his life were to undo itself.
"Listen, Kris, I'm your friend and I know you are struggling with coming to grips with telling the truth. It's not yourself that you need to be honest with, it's everyone else. The people who you work with, the people you are competing against, the whole gambit. The fans, they need to know too. I'm sure it will be hard, I'm sure you won't be made some hero for it, but it is what you NEED to do."
Tears are rolling down Bates' cheeks as he slowly walks across the room. His thoughts are drifting to his body dangling from a tie-noose hanged from the chandelier downstairs in the lobby. He's thinking of overdosing on prescription painkillers and alcohol. He's thinking of slitting his wrists, of scattering his thoughts on the wall with a bullet.
"What I need, John, is a drink. If I don't, you may have to subdue me from hurting myself."
John pulls out a bottle of Jack Daniel's and begins to pour a drink for Bates, who takes the bottle and begins drinking. He throws the bottle back to John after downing about a quarter of it, and slinks to the corner. He falls to the floor, curling up into a ball and crying. He is murmuring "I'm...I'm...I'm..." before we fade out and he can finish what he is saying.
Am I now supposed to go on Oprah and cry and tell you my deepest, darkest secrets because you want to know?
Kevin Spacey
James A. Baldwin
*clap, Clap, Clap* Bravo. Bra ****ing vo. Good job there bucko. Seriously. No, the pleasure is all mine, let me partake in this little bit of a laugh here. HA, HA, ****ING HA! Yes, there, I got it out of my system.
For anyone wondering, that was completely me being spiteful. I beat you, Mr. Danny V whatever your name is, only to find out after our match, through Mr. Helms, that I defeated the former World Champ, legend and Hall of Famer, DAVE HOLLAND! Wow, can I call it or what. I had the name wrong, but I did know it was someone returning and hiding. Well, congratulations to my lovely intuition on that one. I'll add your name to the long list of legends I've beaten.
Right next to Adam Knite in tag, Ace, Spike Kane, Brad Kane, Jack Hammond, Gib and the rest.
So that brings me to my opponent for the week. Well, Mr. Venom. We FINALLY meet. I mean, you weren't here that long before I disappeared after losing the Tag Championships in the shortest reign in nCw history with my failure of a partner Jimmy Zane. We never met, I was, well, too busy being INfamous at the time. Then, when I came back, you were injured. And now look at you, back less than a month and beating guys like Mark Evil...I'm sorry, Venom, but I was doing that when I first showed up, in Xtreme Rules matches defending my Xtreme Championship. But I know, I know, you're a former Tag Champ, former National Champ, former Honor Champ. You've done it all...except what your buddy Velez did in being World Champion.
Too bad for that injury, huh?
So what do I know about Venom. I mean, I should take the advice of the great immortal Spike Kane and try and do a little research, but the thing is...I can't find too much on your personal life that interests me. I can't find a lot about your wins or losses that impresses. I mean, you faced Kanyon as Curtis and Diamond Dallas twice in the month I was working on the Coliseum and other things last year. Odd, you were clawing your way around, facing no-names while I was tearing up the place, being a special guest ref here, causing havoc there. The times when I was allied with former World Champion Rob Diamond was probably the best few months of my career, but the memories are over, and now it's time to focus on the big man from another campus come to, once again, try to make his name here.
Pardon me if I *yawn* am not impressed by your tenure here and *stretch* fail to be excited for this match as much as you'd wish. Mr. Venom, if that is indeed your REAL name, I'd really love to see you go play with some snakes and learn some tricks before you high-fly your way into my Suffocating Cubicle on Sunday. But then again, maybe your bark is loud and you'll have something intelligent to say.
Personally, I doubt it.
****
The weight room of the gym is full of other men, preparing for football, wrestling, or some other sport or just to look better. Kristoff Liam Bates is surrounded by temptation, the kind that is making his mind break and soul suffer. He has the aid of two ear buds pumping metal into his eardrums as he lifts the weights, lying down on the bench press. Two hundred and fifty pounds goes up, down, up, down, and up again before he releases and lets out an exhausted sigh mixed with a grunt. He opens his eyes, and sits up. He is having a hard time holding back the tears, not of pain, but of turmoil within himself.
"Why can't I bear to tell the truth to them? They deserve to know. Everyone does. I'm just too ****ing chicken **** to say anything."
Bates gets up and moves to the punching bag, taking out his frustrations onto it with kicks, punches, and elbows, practicing close-quarters attacks to throw Venom off his feet and into prime position for the Suffocating Cubicle or This Tie is Too Tight. He closes his eyes, visualizing Venom's chiseled body. He sees the sweat glistening off the skin of his opponent and steps back, breathing hard.
"MY GOD, what is HAPPENING TO ME?"
****
Now, I know you've probably heard the rumors. I'm sure you're going to say SOMETHING. I mean, the legend Mr. Holland in his mask said it last week. "You must be attracted to men". Wow, Holland/Danny V. why is it so easy for people to judge me, when I don't judge Steve Awesome for being a male prostitute...wait, he doesn't charge. But as I was saying, I don't judge. What I did judge, was Spike's drug addiction. I don't judge you, Venom. I don't predict you to win because of some mysterious legacy I've heard rumor of. I don't predict my win easily because you've been fed the curtain-jerking zombie of Mark Evil. I mean, seriously, isn't he supposed to be DEAD? People need to just stay gone, don't you think?
So let's talk, V. Can I call you V? So let's talk. What is it about you that makes you intimidating to most? Is it your name. I mean, venom is the poison that comes from spiders and vipers, deadly and dastardly animals that haunt the nightmares of most human beings. But you are hardly venomous. You aren't a spider, or a snake. You are a high-risk flying squirrel. You jump, hop, fly, flip and flail your arms and legs like a retard hoping to inflict damage. I, on the other hand, am cold and calculating. Much like my former profession, I am a man of technological intricacy. I put moves together in combinations to fully inflict pain on a particular body part. I am a master of submission, and rarely do anything else, unless it is of dire circumstance. So, with all that experience under your belt, do you think that your little arm flailing will do more than irritate me? Or do you suppose I'm another Mark Evil for you to conquer?
All jokes aside, I'm sure you're willing to come at me with everything you have, give your best, all that jazz. I'm not doubting it, I'm EXPECTING it. If you give me less than your best, you aren't going to like the outcome. I've never faced you, you're another face for me to stand up against, to smell, to taste the blood of, to triumph over or be triumphed.
Just open your mouth and refute what I've said, if you dare. Mr. Venom. That's just the way it goes.
****
"You really need to stop beating yourself up, Kris."
Johnathan is staring at Kristoff from the table, as he looks out the window of the hotel room at the city below. His mind is fluttering with thoughts of how far the fall would be, and whether or not he'd pass out before his bones shattered and splintered his corpse upon hitting the ground or not.
"What I need, John, is a drink."
"You don't need a drink, you need to get honest with yourself. You can't keep hiding forever."
He turns to John, a red streak of blood is coagulating under his left eye from where he had taken his letter opener and began mutilating himself, before stopping and calling John. Bates is afraid of himself, what he would do if the structure of his life were to undo itself.
"Listen, Kris, I'm your friend and I know you are struggling with coming to grips with telling the truth. It's not yourself that you need to be honest with, it's everyone else. The people who you work with, the people you are competing against, the whole gambit. The fans, they need to know too. I'm sure it will be hard, I'm sure you won't be made some hero for it, but it is what you NEED to do."
Tears are rolling down Bates' cheeks as he slowly walks across the room. His thoughts are drifting to his body dangling from a tie-noose hanged from the chandelier downstairs in the lobby. He's thinking of overdosing on prescription painkillers and alcohol. He's thinking of slitting his wrists, of scattering his thoughts on the wall with a bullet.
"What I need, John, is a drink. If I don't, you may have to subdue me from hurting myself."
John pulls out a bottle of Jack Daniel's and begins to pour a drink for Bates, who takes the bottle and begins drinking. He throws the bottle back to John after downing about a quarter of it, and slinks to the corner. He falls to the floor, curling up into a ball and crying. He is murmuring "I'm...I'm...I'm..." before we fade out and he can finish what he is saying.
Am I now supposed to go on Oprah and cry and tell you my deepest, darkest secrets because you want to know?
Kevin Spacey