The Dirt
Dish Welcome back to the dish! I know my articles two month absence was painful enough without the wanna be articles by mentally challenged referees and “locker room insiders”. I will explain my exile from your much-needed education in the moment. Let’s get down to business. Man I’m pumped! Firstly, as opposed to being bitter about my disgustingly unfair loss to Paul Diamond for the Fusion Championship back at March Mayhem, I feel excited. Yes, I was caught off guard by the Amish Warrior’s cowardly distraction, and yes, I was another victim to Mr. Spontaneous, but it taught me to believe in Karma. Paul’s not champion anymore, and word has it he’s been wetting his panties over it more than a conservative trapped with a television that doesn’t broadcast Fox News. And how about that questionably oversized fan who saved Diamond’s life? Instead of asking who and where, we should ask WHY isn’t Fusion’s security drug screened prior to employment, WHEN will this idiot strike again, and HOW bad of a mullet stomping will he receive if he pulls anymore of those shenanigans. Well, again let me state that I am now as proud as ever to be a part of Fusion. It’s not only because Fusion’s partnership with Paramount Pictures, but because of our new, much more deserving champion Juntsu! Finally, a champ intense enough to kick luck to the curb! Finally, a champion who doesn’t have to glue hair to his chin because he looks 12 years old, but has a natural coat that’s scary and rugged enough to be considered fur. Big ups to Jeff McAllister for bludgeoning Dustin Uhrich. Kids these days, HA! I only wish he would have whooped that trick Dixie Doyle and made Duff’s face look like the road kill he eats with that chair. Bobby Knight once said he wants to be buried upside down after he dies. Just so his critics could kiss his ass. Well, I wish I was there the time he chucked that chair across the free throw line, because I would have knocked him out with the one I was sitting on and showed him what being pissed off was really about. Yes, everyone has critics, including, believe it or not, yours truly. Only mine are well appreciated. I took exile from this website to successfully prove that actions speak louder than words. As I’ve stated before, I’m on both ends of the spectrum, while some silly ass is on mom’s computer calling me boring. I valve your opinion of my wrestling skills, and I’m sure your know exactly what boring means after camping outside a movie theater for 2 months to see a Star Wars movie. Let me thank you for taking time out of your “busy” schedule to give me my just dues over the Internet. Any press (even press nobody cares about) is good press. Keep em’ coming Before I bid this Dirt Dish adieu, let me ask some questions: Will Rashaad
and Tony Morales get their just do? Is J.D.T. trying to impress the girls
or the guys, or both? What the hell is Jason Chambers thinking? Do Billy
V and Stone D (V.D) go out for a romantic outing after each of their
best of 7 matches? Do the Amish Warrior and Charles Shipwright realize
what level of hell they just got themselves into? Does Diamond wear Pampers
or Hugs ultra? Does referee Dewey Larson have Down syndrome? Dirt Sheet Article
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