Post by tonysavage on Feb 16, 2018 10:48:27 GMT -8
You're just a part time wrestler....
You and your style are a throwback....
You're what's wrong with the industry these days....
You have NO business being in a ring....
Tell you truth, I tend to ignore motherfuckers who pay me homage. Besides my crew, I don't need some jackass kissing my rectum. Most of the time, if somebody panders to me, I tell their ass to kick rocks, because I don't need to be told how great I am...
I've got a wall fulla plaques and a crew loaded to the gills with accolades to re-affirm that.
No, it's that shit I was spitting earlier, some of the actual, verbatim nuggets past opposition and industry pundits have thrown in my direction like horny chimpanzees throwing feces; that's the shit that gets my boiler burning.
I love haters. I love criticism. I revel in people scrunching up their faces and dropping verbal sewage out of their mouths before matches, trying to marginalize me, then....
When I punk their asses, like I usually do, they start whining and making excuses. Or screaming to management about punitive managerial action, like the class suck-ups telling the principal how much detention people should get...
Looking at you, GripingTurtlePussies. You fuckers act like prison snitches, puffing out their chest until they get roughed up in the yard, then your asses hit warp speed to bitch to the warden. Rub their faces in it, Sammy? Yeah, no wonder I'ma go out of my way to shorten your lifespan; last thing this industry needs is apple polishing dip-shits who's on-line comedy act makes Carrot Top look like Chappelle.
Ever since I've gotten to GWD, besides the Dogs of War camp, pretty much everybody that's shared the same oxygen as me has gone out of their way to show me their asses....
Dip-shit rookies thinking they can make a name off of me, idiot smarks in tights looking to score brownie points with their equally delusional and vaginal party pals by calling me a cancer, when in reality, the shit me and the boys have been doing has been putting asses in seats and a spotlight on this god-damn fed. Carbon dated crusty assholes who, in fits of dementia, take on crusades that don't need to be fought, against causes that didn't exist until you started playing Captain America and stirred up a shit-storm....
Take it from an Afghan vet; you start fighting imaginary enemies, you end up starting real wars....
Hell, even our management team, who's been enjoying the fruits of our labor, are out to try to put me and guys like Storm in a corner. People who have been making moves, sweating and bleeding their asses off to put bread on the powers that be's tables, while they sit back and pass judgement on us because we don't fucking fit in their little model on how wrestlers should conduct themselves...
And people wonder why sometimes I make a stink. Hard not to when you're surrounded by bipedal piles of bullshit on a constant basis.
But, then, I remember, it's shit like this that drives me to be as good as I am. It's people's hypocrisy, and their pretensions, and their generic, rehashed, motives and base greed and violence masked as defending honor or obtaining glory, and it's the criticism for doing what I do, and how I do it...
Better than most of them will EVER do it in their lifetimes.
I'm hearing all sorts of reasons why motherfuckers in the Global Heritage Tournament are in this...
Some are trying to get a foot in this biz. Some are trying to hang on to fading careers. Some are fooling themselves into thinking they got any business being in this sport. And some are trying to re-create the Crusades and play out a bad soap opera story-line, that's only going to end in tears for anybody stupid enough to engage in that fight.
Me, I'm not in it for glory, or belts, or money, or another mark on my resume. I find out when you're as good as I am at this job, that shit comes standard. No, it's me coming out at the end of the tourney with the loot, making a statement that needs to be made...
Fuck your fake piety and crusading...
Fuck your knee jerk punishments and blatant disrespect for people killing themselves to make you a buck...
Fuck your whining, your griping, and your grade school ideals...
Fuck your snitching to the bosses...
Fuck your trying to eat off my plate, rookies...
And most of all, to all the fans who flip-flopped on me, the losers in the back, and to management, as i walk out with the belt...
Fuck you very much....GOODNIGHT!!
