Can You See Me? Because I Was Under The Assumption That, In Fact, You Were Unable To
the running WrestleMania XX diary

What a confluence of events. It's pretty close to the time I met Iyari Limon and Kevin Smith within 24 hours of each other. Except in a funhouse mirror. In the Twilight Zone.

I dunno, first girlfriend breaks up with me--we'll see how that subplot plays out later--so my first response is mild confusion and the second is seeing my first live legal WWE/F pay-per-view [and WrestleF'nMania XX, at that] at Hooters. Hooters serves beer and has attractive women. This is either going to work out spectacularly or blow up horribly in my face before Triple H goes over, mark my words before the fact. (This blowing up, I mean, not the second. Unless it comes true.)

I'm looking forward to all the non-tag-title bouts, and the Jericho/Christian conclusion. By the way: THERE IS ONLY ONE WAY THIS CAN END. I will NOT argue this.

3:30 p.m. -- I am locked in, overlooking the ocean and boardwalk. So far I'm the only person here specifically for XX but it's the Hooters overlooking the ocean. The waitress looks like Topanga with a rack and is actually named Danielle. I smell trouble later. I've finally hit all the Hooters in the county; you may anoint me.

3:34 -- The UT/Kane package gets the next table's attention...

3:44 -- ...because I'm sitting next to the OTHER black smark in attendance. Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction, am I right, Pugsley?!

3:48 -- Fellow fans start coming in. I am staring at Danielle's legs as if I can ascertain the meaning of life in them. Perhaps I can. I shall ruminate over this with a beer.

4:00 -- Hell yes, you are looking LIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE at the Pacific Beach Hooters! Heineken #1 is ready! ¡Un rey mundial actitud! Me & Other Me have a Lesnar/Kane debate on who should come on out and wipe out the Harlem Boys Choir. I got 6:49 in the Spanish Announce Table destruction pool, by the way.

4:10 -- Double horns, bitch! Me & my Word Life throwback (hi, Johnny) pop up out the seat and do our mandatory duty only to see about 10 others follow suit. The crowd changed faster than a Tara Reid boyfriend.

4:18 -- Holy hell, the cobra clutch! More importantly, I have disposed of this beer. Serving wench, fetch me another!

4:22 -- WHOO Cena wins the belt. That false finish scared the hell out of me, thus serving its purpose. It's a shame Matt Hardy jumped, he would've made excellent opening Thuganomics fodder. Whatever happened TO Matt, anyway, I think he poured that second Heineken...

4:25 -- Randy Orton cuts the Evolution promo so of course talk shifts to Flair being awesome. Other me, re: Orton spitting on Mick: "I've seen people get shot for less."

4:29 -- The RAW tag team fourway; I'd take a piss but there's only one beer in me. Man, the set is pimped out. Somewhere to the north of me, Snoop & Don Magic Juan are saying "Preach."

4:33 -- Topanga goes on her break and gets replaced with one that looks like Emily from the Dixie Chicks. How big a downgrade this is is the sort of thing one can settle over a cold adult beverage.

4:35 -- Uh, someone want to tell Batista those punk kids Cade & Jindrak took his trunks?

4:38 -- First en masse OOHs come over RVD's Five Star bump and the Cinco Estrellas for him proper.

4:41 -- Big pop for Gene, even bigger one for We--Heenan, and disgust over Mae & Moolah. So THIS is where they've been holding the local smark meetings! Thanks for the heads up, fuckers!

4:44 -- Did I just walk in the crib got two kids and my ex-baby mama late 'cause UH-OH UH-OH UH-OH. Y2J/Christian this early with faces going over in the first two matches? On the one hand I don't think they should but on the other claw-like deformity the possibility of Evil Brunette Trish would give me wrist fuel for months. As usual, I have no point. Except Christian's been SUCH an excellent James Spader in "Pretty In Pink".

4:59 -- Christian busting out the tornado reverse DDT! RULES! Flashback! RULES! TEJAS MUTHAFUCKIN CLOVERLEAF! HELLA Rules!

5:01 -- Who had first blown spot in the pool? Shane? EDGECUTION FROM CHRISTIAN. This match rules all.

5:06 -- Aw, maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!

5:08 -- I ain't gonna say nuthin' but that ain't right.

5:10 -- Big in-house pop for Snuka. Mmm...imported beer. Mmm...breasts.

5:20 -- Everyone gets a good laugh from Flair going up top. To quote Rob's reaction to "Baby I Love Your Way" in High Fidelity: Why? Batista shows up, thus being the sign to hit the can.

5:21 -- The can rules, they took the sports apart page by page and hung it up on clamps right above the stalls.

5:23 -- Man did that Foley bump over the stairs get everyone's attention.

5:28 -- The Flair/Rock Dueling People's Elbow segment debuts in Hooters at #4 on the Things That Are Too Goddamn Awesome Whether You Follow Wrestling Or Not chart.

5:31 -- RKf'nO! Who told ya?! I told ya! (I said Rock, but still...)

5:40 -- What the hell, Kane didn't come out and kill Pete? What the fuck is up with that?

5:41 -- Only in the E could woofing constitute condolences and well-wishes.

5:44 -- While I'm here, let me pick a bone with Jake for counting this as a match. WHO. CARES. Side note to uppity smarts: these sorts of "matches" are much easier to take when you've got booze in you.

5:48 -- Blur. It's all a blur.

5:59 -- I need the Eddie Scarface ripoff N O O O O O W W W W W W.

6:00 -- and all is well! Big pop for Rey. Buzz.

6:05 -- Who had it in the First Holy Shit pool?

6:12 -- People are jacked for Brock/Goldberg. I'm still pissed about them jobbing Funaki out like that. Bastards. Well, THIS oughta be interesting.

6:25 -- "They're both big. They're both strong. We get the message."

6:32 -- Man is New York taking a shit on this. Not that I blame them.

6:33 -- "OH!"

6:34 -- "OH!"

6:35 -- "YEAH!"

6:37 -- "ahahahahahahaha!" "OH!" "YEAH!" That's right, the final five minutes of Goldberg/Lesnar and the ensuing aftermath were brought to you by Lil' Jon.

6:41 -- Big pop for XXI being in Staples up the road. What the hell, I might try to go.

6:42 -- Is this my fifth beer or did Vince not get Stunned? Both? Oh.

6:57 -- Team Angle got PRISONRAPED.

7:00 -- Molly IS the new age Malenko. (Thought brought to you by Tanvir Raquib.)

7:07 -- Eddy/Kurt video package sends about 10 guys into the can since we all saw it in the Free For All. Team Angle, anyone?

7:13 -- Hell. Yes.

7:29 -- Tazz: Sometimes you gotta punch a guy in the face. Preach.

7:34 -- Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?! Kurt kicked out?!

7:36 -- Motherfucking Eddie~! I guess Big Nose is going over.

7:43 -- HUGE pop for Bearer. "This is like every horror movie EVER."

7:44 -- *BONG*

7:44:01 -- YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

7:53 -- Okay, someone clarify something for me: is that still Old School? Is it now New School? Is it Throwback School, and if so doesn't that infringe on Cena's gimmick? H B O help a brother out.

8:06 -- Hefner's reffing and I got 8:21 in the bump pool. I can't believe the SAT is still standing. It's not quite Hankless Loyola Marymount making the 16 but it's right up there.

8:08 -- HA ha this cost me at least $30 less plus Hooters. I know where I'm coming for SummerSlam.

8:20 -- The crowd is firmly behind Benoit.

8:22 -- Crowd loved the hHh interference spot where he kept Michaels from tapping out. That was pretty cool.

8:24 -- The Smack!Down table went before the Spanish? What is this, the Parallel Universe?

8:25 -- Huge pop for the cameramen bumps. It's not really a WrestleMania until someone who doesn't has to takes a huge bump. Whatever happened to that great WOW referee, he would've flown into Brooklyn.

8:28 -- Ross finally uses "crimson mask" and how well is it set up that no one really bled hard before this?

8:29 -- Sharpshooter spot. I scream RING THE FUCKING BELL. Everyone's yelling "TAP!" and pounding the tables. The waitresses are shocked and frightened--I'm almost positive they didn't stop stripping for this.

8:30 -- I remember yelling "TAP! TAP OUT! TAP THE FUCK OUT!" at the top of my lungs.

8:31 -- HELL. MOTHER. FUCKING. YES. Somewhere in the back Booker T and Van Dam share a good cry, but that doesn't change the fact: HELL. MOTHER. FUCKING. YES.

Look, as a Net fan I loved Eddie & Chris. But I was convinced they were going to be side dishes for life no matter how good they tasted to yes you me myself and I'n for various reasons (too small, Triple H, too ethnic, Triple H, can't cut a promo, Triple H, Triple H, Triple H). So you can imagine my giddy schoolboyish delight to see them be the litmus tests as the respective champions of the World. I followed Benoit since he started in WCW, Eddie right around the tail of the Art Barr tag team 10+ ago, so for them to be standing on the biggest stage in the world as The Men...maaaaaaaaan.

I tell you what, maybe it was the environment or getting a lot of what I want, but that four and a half flew by in a double horns throwup. I'd actually put this second to X7, and maybe first since I haven't seen X7 in quite some time. I'm excited for the future, hopeful to see them continue to back Benoit and Guerrero, psyched for US Champion Cena (even if he didn't hit the Joe Budden Elbow tongiht) and tomorrow night starts Jericho's Inigo Montoyaesque Path Of Rage. Plus, I bet Evil Trish is into anal and the Donkey Punch. That's right, I said it. I may have to co-#1 her with Alba.

SO fucking there.

Currently playing: Bob Marley & the Wailers' "Lively Up Yourself"