My first time!

Well, sort of. I've run two blogs prior to this; one was for the college newspaper I used to edit (in chief), the other a sort of information portal for energy prices (????). My promise to you, the reader, is that this blog will stay consistently updated as long as I stay active in fantasy wrestling. Which in reality means that I'm going to quit this blog every six months only to reappear a year after that. Excellent!

You Can't Handle a Blog!
Alright alright, I hear ya- Stanton has a blog, Holzerman has a blog, why the fuck do I need a blog? What makes me so special? What have I ever done in this nerdy ass hobby that warrants me having a blog? I'll tell you: nothing. No, seriously, this is not a joke, I really have accomplished very little in FW. I held a couple of little titles here and there, but none of my characters have ever held a world title. Nobody is inspired by what I do, and I've even been banned from the forums a few times for all sorts of unsportsmanlike behavior.

Friends With Benefits
However...
I happen to be friends with several very important FWers, and I have no qualms about ripping off their expert opinions and passing them off as my own. Gregg, Katz, Stanton, McNic, honestly guys, do not tell me anything valuable in the way of FW or I'll steal it and tell people I came up with it myself. Shit, I'll even tell them you ripped me off.

Aside from plagiarizing Gregg Gethard's advice, you won't learn anything valuable from this blog in the way of FW. This blog represents one thing and only one thing: shooting from the hip just to stroke my own ego. Get it? FW Money shot? Shooting from the hip? I'm cumming in your face as you read this...ya get it? Wait, that would make this the FW Facial. Nevermind, I'm too lazy to go back and edit the title.

What's With the Pink?
Because I want you to feel as uncomfortable as humanly possible when you read my ramblings. Or as Bret Hart would say, "Real men type in pink and black!" Eh, nevermind.

Should I Be Afraid of Chad?
Godfather Chad and I had a moment of peace last week in NFW's "Ask the East Prez" thread. "Wow," I thought. "Could Chad really have forgiven me for all the times I bothered him with my silly forum drama bullshit?" For a minute there, I was a Chad fan 4 life! I had my CSWA application ready, two tickets to see the Yankees, Seasons 1&2 of Curb Your Enthusiasm, and a Best Friends Forever! coffee mug. Well you know what? I should have curbed my enthusiasm, because the next morning Chad e-mailed me the following lyrics to the DMX song "Bring Ya Whole Crew/No Remorse":

"Ughhhh Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Come on Ugghhh
Ahhhhh but they don't hear me though
I got blood on my hands and there's no remorse
I got blood on my dick cuz I fucked the corpse
I'm a nasty n**** when you pass me n**** look me in my eye
tell me to my fucking face that you ready to die
you be a dead motherfucker red motherfucker
don't get stupid you heard what I said motherfucker
who shot you, ahh n**** like you don't know
sticking you for dough while I'm fucking your broke hoe
yo, would you get the picture n***** can't touch me
cuz I don't give a fuck G I get you touch B

I just love when a n**** bring his whole crew
its just a bigger piece of cake for me to chew a hole through "

He also sent me the lyrics to "Hit 'em up" by Tupac and "Fuck Wit Dre Day (And everybody celebratin') by Dr. Dre. So should I be afraid? I think he's serious. Somebody also assembled pieces of bologne all over my car, such that when I pull them off the paint peels in a way that spells out 'CSWA'. What kind of sick cult is CS running over there on FW Central? Weird. It's like some fort of Fight Club shit.

...

Ok ok, for the record, Chad did not send me any e-mails or threatening rap lyrics, and my car is just fine! I actually should thank him for not banning me following the Terence debacle. You're a stand up guy, CS, and I thank you. By the way, does anybody else accidentally type "Horney" everytime they mean to type "Hornet"? That's one hell of a typo.

Be back later with some small FW tidbits and "advice," or perhaps as Arnold would say, "Da wrong advices."