Breaking Kayfabe: Gone Too Soon

I am a fan of professional wrestling.

While others have outgrown the continuous battle between the good guys (faces) and the bad guys (heels), I take pride in what is known as "sports entertainment" because having practically grown up watching pro wrestling, it is truly a part of me. I live for it, breathe it, sleep it and if it was still edible, I'd eat it too (they don't make those ice cream bars anymore).

If you follow wrasslin as closely as I do, then you have a pretty good appreciation for what each of those individuals does no matter how much you like them or hate them and regardless of whether or not they suck. To the "smart mark," you realize that the average wrestler you see on TV is in at least 100 matches a year and spends at least 200 days on the road travelling from small towns to big cities all over the world. And they choose this way of life, wearing away their own bodies and risking injury, to do one thing: to entertain.

Which is the reason Eddie Guerrero's death is so much harder to swallow. Hearing about his death, all I could think of was that it couldn't be true. Maybe it was a relative of his that died. Maybe it was a nasty rumor for the internet wrestling junkies. Then to later have the headline confirmed, reality set it - no more Latino heat, no more lying, cheating and stealing, no more viva la raza, no more cheat to win, no more low riders, no more three amigos, no more going froggy in Eddie's own unique way. Love him or hate him, you had to respect him for the performances he gave, and if you couldn't tell from this list of everything he's done recently, he'll truly be missed.



Eddie, I've followed your storied career for over 15 years. Back when Triple H was Terra Ryzene and Chris Jericho was the Lionheart, you were still Eddie Guerrero, always staying true to yourself till the end. Thanks for the memories, holmes. We're going to miss you. Viva la raza...







(Pics from wwe.com)

Next Year's Halloween Costume

For various non-Jehovah's Witness-type reasons, I think Halloween is my least favorite holiday. I've always wondered what the point was of dressing up for candy when there always seems to be a group of trick or treaters that goes door to door with one kid that doesn't even bother to dress up. While the other kids are dressed up looking adorable in their costumes, when the kid who's decked out in jeans and a plain t-shirt opens his bag and says "Trick or Treat," the sorry get-a-life loser who gets stuck passing out the candy while his friends are out at some Halloween party mingling with hot girls dressed up as hoes who really are skanks but are pretending to be sluts must be thinking one of two things:

1. "A plain-clothed kid. Must be a serial killer."
2. "I wonder how many Snickers bars it would take to get me a hoe, a skank or a slut at that party. I've got 10."

Either way, I bet that plain-clothed kid ends up with more candy at the end of the night.

That being said, I suggest that the new hot costume for next Halloween be an iPod. Not just any iPod, however. Choose whichever version and whatever color your heart desires. Except there is one catch - you have to look like an iPod with the sad face and exclamation point that you get when you turn on one that's fucked beyond repair:



How does one achieve this look? Interesting question because I'm not sure since everywhere I've gone doesn't really give a cause and the solution always seems to be "Apple fucked you for $250 (that's beyond ho, skank or slut status since that costs a lot of Snickers) and you like it and we know you like it because you love that iPod so much we bet you're going to go out and buy another one which was made even more poorly than the one you bought which means we'll see you again and again and again."

So I guess to acheive the look, I guess all you need to do is punch your friend who is dressed up as an iPod (the 4G 20GB one is my personal favorite) where the clickwheel is, which just happens to be strategically positioned over your belly. It'll be cute.

No, not really. I'd rather be a plain-clothed serial killer.