Where’s My Freaking Revolution: Why Yes, I Am Mad, Why Do You Ask, Bro?

Stories also used to teach that if you were good, for varying definitions of what “good” is, but essentially if you treated people right and tried to live by a code of respecting people, you’d get good things. Or at the very least, people who did bad would be punished. But if there’s anything adulthood has taught me it’s the opposite is the truth. The more you hurt and lie and cheat and hate, the better you do, and good is for suckers who haven’t learned how to work the system yet. Continue reading Where’s My Freaking Revolution: Why Yes, I Am Mad, Why Do You Ask, Bro?

Where’s My FREAKING Revolution: *Gestures Wildly At the Wrestlemania Sign*

There was a point at the end of every college party I attended in my junior and senior years when we’d reached the dregs of the liquor. There was nothing left but a few shots of the good stuff and some half-finished mixers, but nothing that actually went together, and this one bottle of Goldschl├Ąger we just could not get rid of. That was the point where we’d resort to just throwing random things together in hopes it would be drinkable.

That’s sort of what the build to Fastlane felt like, especially with regards to the women’s matches. One of those matches was even a semi-random tag match that was announced on Twitter only days before the show. With that total lack of build and what felt like haphazard at best booking for the title match, there was every reason to expect Fastlane would be like our cocktail experiments: good elements combined in a terrible way.

But Fastlane was one of those combinations that managed to work out.

Continue reading “Where’s My FREAKING Revolution: *Gestures Wildly At the Wrestlemania Sign*”