There are very few things I like better than WWE pro wrestling, and few men I hold in higher esteem than the Sultan of Shat, William Shatner.
That’s why it blew my mind to see him on WWE Raw last week, holding guest host duties, and singing, in his usual impassioned, imploring manner, the greatest, most iconic theme songs of today’s generation of WWE superstars.
Nobody owns spoken word the way he does. All hail The Shat.
If The Shat sings it, we all needs to brings it.
Bret “The Hitman” Hart. The greatest hero of my childhood, and the man who made me believe back when I was just a fat little prepubescent Superstar that invoking the excellence you wished yourself to be was the first big step in actually achieving it.
Even a career-ending concussion from a misplaced Goldberg thrust kick, a subsequent stroke from a biking accident, and the tragic in-ring death of his youngest brother Owen couldn’t stop him from coming home and making peace before the entire WWE Universe.
Truly the best there is, the best there was, the best there ever will be.
Big beefy Superstars such as myself love wrestling, mainly because we’re too chunky for other sports.
I have always rooted for the badasses of the sport like Randy Orton, Edge, D-X, Stone Cold Steve Austin, the original nWo, and the entire Evolution stable – they were cocky, they were legitimate assholes, but they could always bring the business in the ring.
John Cena, when he first made the transition from being a plain-vanilla white boy in his “Ruthless Aggression” character to a full-on Vanilla Ice clone with his battle raps, was one of my favorites back in the day. He was white as shit, but carried himself like a dawg.
This was the first battle rap that really caught me – him taking on the Olympic gold medalist Kurt Angle in one of the funniest skits I’ve seen. Kurt Angle, in particular, was hilarious, with his dig on how he couldn’t believe he actually found someone in WWE who was even whiter than him (it’s true, it’s true).
But the ultimate battle rap was when the Big Show challenged the Doctor of Thuganomics to a showdown, and got completely and thoroughly punked out.
Best lines of the night:
You need to hit them situps too
You ain’t exactly the leanest
Forget seeing me bro
You can’t even see your own penis!
And mine is bigger than your finger
It’s as big as your whole head
You think I’m comin’ up short?
That’s not what yo’ momma said!
Burn!
The following video is not safe for viewing by nuns, Mormons, and fans of the original Ayatollah of Rock n’ Rollah, Chris Jericho.
WATCH!!! as Our Savior gets harrassed by rowdy white trash sweathogs begging for a photograph with him.
BE AMAZED!!! as Y2J explodes at the assholery of a crowd of hundreds who wouldn’t let him get into his Outrageously Expensive Jerichomobile 5000.
DROP YOUR JAW!!! at the heroism and courage of The Man as he defends his dignity, chastity, and cool beans leather jacket from the unwashed plebeian masses shouting “You’re a disgrace to Canadians, you mo’ fo’!”
When I grow up, I want to be just like Chris Jericho. He is a man of principles, of bravery, of supreme awesomeness. God save you, Y2J. Break the walls down, and break the jaws of all those who refuse to be… saved.
