Today, get this, today I was in the Wal-Mart buying some charcoal, peanut butter, and Q-tips when some jackass faggot from high school says to me (I was wearing my Kane shirt) "hey queer, professional wrestling is fake."

Yeah, fucking right. I almost shit my fuckin' pants. I spit out the gum I was chewing (good thing, that shit was like 3 weeks old! Forgot to spit that shit out! Just ate food and brushed my teeth and everythin' with that shit still in my mouth!) out of shock. And LAUGHTER. Here this jock asshole just said wrestling is fake! Fake! That doesn't even make fuckin' sense!

I went home to chat with 10-year-old girls online. Nothin' weird…just talkin'. Nothin' weird or nothin'. Then I rubbed one out and put in an old Royal Rumble tape. I laughed to myself, thinking that guy said wrestling was fake. Yep, got quite a chuckle out of that. I mean has he ever EVEN SEEN THE STONE COLD STUNNER?! That shit will paralyze you, chief. Austin 3:16. Best Bible passage eva!

Debra almost freed the puppies! Did you see that?/???

But seriously, how can you watch these guys beat each other to a bloody pulp with steel chairs and fists and tell me with a straight face that wrestlin' is fake? You can't.

Wrestling is fake. Yeah, right, wrestling is fake and I have a successful job. Or a job at all.

Yeahhhhhh right. If wrestling is fake, then I see the light of day two hours, tops. And eat Gushers sandwiches. And masturbate to that scene in the first American Pie where that foreign chick takes off her clothes. It only lasts about three seconds. But I pause it. I pause the part so it lasts longer.