WWE Monday Night RAW at the Verizon Center, Washington D.C., December 29, 2014.

Good lord. Went to see WWE RAW on Monday with Adriana and like the last time it caused me to write a 1500 word rambling missive, it did not disappoint. Seriously, it is such a shame I stopped watching as a kid because I was embarrassed about the “fake” aspect of it, because in hindsight it’s irrelevant. The athleticism is real, the story lines, though completely nonsensical are entertaining, and 90% of the entertainers are hot as fuck. RAW is just like any other serial, only with a unique structure that ensures the entire middle of the program is usually completely miss-able. And if you see it live you get to do the Ric Flair “wooooh!” through the slow parts and tell John Cena he sucks to his face (sort of.)

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Anyway, here is my genuine leather Cynthia Rowley Money in the Bank briefcase. I traced my purse onto a gold Christmas bag, printed out the Money in the Bank logo and duct-taped that shit down. It held surprisingly well and I was complimented by a man who I assume was drunk.

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Adriana hand-made these lamb-baby-sheep ears, and even came over to make sure they fit before sewing it all together, which I think constitutes a fitting.

ACTUAL SHOW THINGS:

  • I realized as I was fervently shouting YES! YES! YES! that Daniel Bryan has been injured for the entirety of my recent wrestling watching stint, and I have no idea what this motherfucker is about. I did however find myself being really, really relieved when he announced he was not retiring, which I think is some sorcery/Jim Jones shit. I think The Yes Movement is some sort of coven, or that thing the Mormons do- A sect? Can’t you imagine Daniel Bryan with a 13-year-old wife named Mavis who is wearing a pioneer dress? Apologies to Brie Bella, but he already looks Amish.
  • I cannot get over how hot Edge is with short hair. I want to own a cottage on Wasega Beach with him. We can drink a lot of Kokanee and make woodsy Canadian forest love in a manner that does not re-break his neck. He looks like he knows how to grill. I like that. Please keep him and Christian forever. They are so cute.
  • Dolph Ziggler has the most shapely thighs I have ever seen. I never even thought about thighs at all before him, not other people’s, not my own. But if he were to do a workout video, I would watch it, if it were free. They are perfect. Also he was wearing sequined hot pants, and they were genuinely adorable, kind of like something you would see at an upscale-but-trying-to-look-like-a-scamp store, like Anthropologie during a racy season. I would buy them for sure, they were such a welcome break from his usual black and pink pleather. So tired. So bowling alley. I care about Dolph Ziggler’s fashion because someone needs to make that motherfucker famous already. He’s not getting famous in Bret Hart’s castoff clothes bin. I appreciate his throwback look, but it is not resonating with the people, and he’s simply too goddamn good-looking to pull it off. I saw him on a podcast/vlog recently where he was asked the question What do people on the street think your job is? RELEVANT. MOST RELEVANT DOLPH ZIGGLER QUESTION OF ALL TIME. He said “80s movie villain” but we all know the answer is “stripper.” He looks like a stripper. Why does he need to look like a stripper.

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  • The Miz and Mizdow vs. The Usos. Sorry, everyone knows I think Samoa is a fictitious place. I don’t get The Usos, they’re so boring and they dress like the Miami Dolphins. Mizdow is genius though, and the mime routine is unexpectedly hilarious in person. When the gimmick is played out I think WWE needs to do a Fight Club plot line where The Miz realizes Sandow has really been a part of him all along to kill it off. Then Sandow is free to move on and you could get a bunch of lowcarders involved as a Project Mayhem-y follower stable thing and have an excuse to use pyro. Am I a genius? Yes.

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  • Luke Harper vs. Jack Swagger. Fuck Jack Swagger honestly, that whole thing makes me cringe. At least Lana and Rusev are a parody, you get the sense the Jack Swagger thing isn’t a joke. I hate that The Wyatt Family fractured so fast. John Cena can be a one man lone wolf military-inspired killing machine with a conscious for like 12 years, but we can’t get a good villain group to last more than 6 months? The same thing happened with The Shield, why break them up as soon as the audience starts to embrace them? When no one has any purpose on their own? WTF is Luke Harper doing wandering around wrestling Jack Swagger. WTF is Roman Reigns M.O.? How is there like 9 hours of television a week and no basic character development? Oh God, the wasted potential. Think about what David Simon could do with 9 hours a week. He could do a teleplay of the entire Bible, then write an original version of human history, and it would all be up on HBO Go by now.
  • Ryback had what felt like an 8 minute long speech about The Secret and metaphysics, which I know the format of, but I’ve never had to sit through before personally, because I don’t know anyone who is divorced. It was brutal. It was confusing. I could not determine whether he was just the messenger, delivering us a truly odd, misguided story line, or speaking from the heart. He had this disheveled appearance, like he just pulled an undershirt down and stapled it at the crotch Workaholics sleepover style, then had it airbrushed at a mall kiosk. Adriana also pointed out he was wearing a weight belt as an accessory, and had more armbands than a Hot Topic cashier. It was like someone’s Pop Pop wandered on stage and incoherently declared that he was a wrestler, all while wearing an open bathrobe and oven mitts and no underwear. Supposing it had some basis in reality, I’m truly glad the guy feels like he’s in a better place, but it was uncomfortable. So uncomfortable. Just finished listening to CM Punk’s appearance on Colt Cabana’s Art of Wrestling podcast, and Punk accuses Ryback of intentionally kicking him in the stomach, breaking his ribs. So I don’t feel so bad sharing my actual impression of Ryback, which was that he seemed like a weeping middle-aged woman going through the change who missed her dose of Premarin and is suffering from some major vaginal dryness and emotional instability. Also we all know he looks like Sloth from The Goonies.
  • Divas match was all of 45 seconds long. FOR SHAME. SHAME, SHAME, SHAME.

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  • Seth Rollins vs. Roman Reigns was the match I found most emotionally conflicting. I found myself simultaneously terrified for both of their safety, and desperate for them to irl beat the shit out of each other. I like hockey fights, I like internet videos of fights in Wendy’s, I like a good in real life, non-life-threatening scrap, but there was never anything primally appealing about it to me. Until that moment. Then I wanted those two ripped, shirtless dudes to bare-knuckle brawl, and there was nothing I ever wanted more. But I was also so scared. And conflicted. And kind of into it. And scared. This feud is too much. My fantasy is The Shield reunites under the direction of Mick Foley. I don’t know who the fuck would be a better counterpart to Dean Ambrose than Mankind, the soothing-yet-empowering sounds of Tori Amos would do his crazy ass some good (although I don’t really want him to change, I just want him to stop punching Seth Rollins.) The Shield can get Metallica’s therapist. We can make a documentary to air exclusively on the WWE Network for $9.99.
  • Cutting Edge Peep Show vs. Rollins broke my heart. Here I am, with my rediscovered love for my brother in country, Edge, and now my favorite wrestler Seth Rollins has got his face pinned in between the Money in the Bank Briefcase and his boot and is threatening to (re)break his neck. Things got a little American History X. Rollins’ threatening to paralyze him, so he can no longer feel his daughter when he holds her in his arms? The FUCK is that? I know the WWE buries people alive as standard practice, but this seemed unusually cold. Like who pissed off Vince McMahon/someone in the writer’s room kind of cold. Then mocking Christian for his concussions when that is such a hot button issue? Good Lord. Someone should have started playing Sarah MacLachlan because shit was cruel.
  • Finally of course there was this shit with Cena saving Edge while looking like a lost, obedient puppy in hideous shoes, which is kind of his thing. It was predictable to the point that people started filing out of the building. Then the reinstated Authority appeared and joined Rollins for a New Years toast, which I think was supposed to be a “big reveal” but as I said on Monday, and as I still maintain, as soon as Seth Rollins wedged Edge’s head against that briefcase I knew those motherfuckers were in the building because no one understands the concept of face time like Triple H and Stephanie McMahon. What did surprise everyone, and what apparently was not broadcast (intentionally? unintentionally?) was Randy Orton’s surprisingly speedy blocky ass sprinting across the arena, which they apparently have no intention of putting on television. So yeah, Randy Orton is still around. It was briefly thrilling until I got home and realized ‘goddamit, more Randy Orton.’

1627 words. Damn it. Still too emotionally involved. But I added pictures and bullet pointed things this time?

One thought on “WWE Monday Night RAW at the Verizon Center, Washington D.C., December 29, 2014.

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