Post by cureforthesickness on Jan 30, 2007 22:34:02 GMT -5
A rather plain looking house bids farewell as I pull away. Everything seems to be in working order in this house, but could be better. The paint looks perfectly acceptable, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a fresh coat. The door is of nice enough quality, but the few scratches from common wear and tear are definitely a distraction. The yard is well kept and the grass seems of good quality, but could be better given the proper time and care.
My car has been running like crap lately because of the cold weather and I was not looking forward to this car trip. As I pull away from the house, my passenger in the backseat almost immediately falls asleep. She is almost big enough to move out of her booster seat, but not quite. Her body looks almost awkward in the “almost too small” seat, but she rests comfortably regardless. I steer off of the street from our house and onto the high way. I dread this journey, but it is needed. She cannot see what has to be done. I try to steer my thoughts to other subjects, but they always seem to drift back to my journey, possibly because I cannot steer my mind away from the road for my own safety. I finally find a suitable thought train, and as has become the norm for me, I vocalize my thoughts aloud, even though I am the only conscience and responsive person in the area.
Kurt Burton, you think you deserve a world title shot? You think you deserve MY WORLD TITLE SHOT?? Pay your dues and then we’ll talk. Kurt Burton, where were you when WFWF was running shows in front of fifty people in Delta, Ohio? Where were you when we weren’t getting paid, Kurt Burton? Where we you when our “catering” consisted of the stale nasty old hot dogs that the concession booth girls had left over? Kurt Burton, where were you when everyone was quitting WFWF because times were hard? Where were you to pick up the slack when not one, not two, but three different sets of owners walked out? You were no where to be found. Kurt Burton, you’re a flash in the pan. You’re a fly by night success. Mother f*cker, you’re trying to steal money out of MY pocket. You’re trying to steal title contracts that I’VE earned. You’re trying to steal this big pay day that I earned after three mother f*cking years of undercard matches and sh*tty paydays.
Wrestling. It’s always what I drift back to. Even in the most trying time, wrestling always seems to be what my mind goes back to. Perhaps it’s because that’s how I make money. Instead of going to a regular job, making my money at a nine to five factory job or whatever, I wrestle. As my daughter so bluntly puts it, “Daddy hurts people for a living”. Hurting people. If only it were that simple. There’s always the politics. There’s always the behind the scenes bullsh*t. There’s always the he said she said crap that effects the final wrestling. If only it could be about wrestling and just “hurting people” instead of being about who can get inside the bosses ear the best..
This isn’t “doing business” any more, Kurt. This sh*t’s legit. Kurt Burton, by trying to run up the figurative ladder, you’re not just hurting me. You’re not just hurting my family. You’re hurting this federation. You’re trying to destroy this federation that you claim so dedication to. The federation that you claim to be the future of is in your hands at this moment and you’re choking the life out of it. Kurt Burton, you may be the future of WFWF, but I am the present. I am the current of this federation.
Kurt Burton, back when you were trying to be a little teenage garage band or whatever, I was working to establish this federation as a serious threat in the wrestling world by putting my body through hell. I’ve got a metal pin in my elbow instead of a bone from a match YEARS before you even considered wrestling as an option. I’ve seen your type, Kurt Burton. You’re out for the quick payday. You’re gonna find your big shiny gold belt and you’re going to run like a thieve in the night. You may ask “Obo, how do you know me so well?” Because Kurt Burton, I was you. Two years ago, I was you. I was the punk kid walking in and stepping on people’s toes, trying to climb the ladder as quickly as possible. I had the dead weight tag team partner and just like you, I dumped him as soon as possible. But what you’re failing to realize, Kurt Burton, is you aren’t me. You’re not the second coming of the “King of Gore”. You’re barely the first coming of Kurt Burton.
A car squeals it’s tires right in front of the vehicle and the vehicle comes to an abrupt stop. The offender quickly drives away, but not before the driver and hero yells a few obscenities.
There’s always some ass trying to get ahead in life, whether it be driving, wrestling, or whatever. Why can’t people just take the correct routes given to them and let things play out with the correct time line? Why attempt to change fate?
Kurt Burton, you’re just like so many people that come before you. What separates you from the pack? What gives you “it”. What gives you that certain something that the people look for in a superstar, and an idol? The fact that you carried Kyzer’s jock and picked up his used needles for a month? Any hobo could have done that. Just look at Percy.
Percy.. There’s someone I haven’t thought of in a while. He seems to have fallen off the face of the Earth these days. Michael Kyzer really did him wrong, but it seems I did him worse. Why stab a friend in the back the way I did? Why go for it? Because it’s what I needed. It was my fate. You cannot change fate. Attempting to change fate only ends in injury. I learned that the hard way.
How about that cum dumpster you have latched onto your arm? Does T&A make you a star? In one word, no. Many have gone that route before you and all ended with failure. Having some bimbo shadow you does nothing to build your credibility as a legitimate superstar, instead undoing what you may accomplish. When I look at Kat, I see nothing more than a flaw, a chink in the armor. Kat Hamilton will be your downfall, Kurt Burton. I suggest you either ditch her all together or remove her from wrestling. A woman behind any man does nothing for the man. Ask your buddy Wayne McGurk what bringing his girlfriend into wrestling got him with Obo. Your woman seems so friendly with Vanessa McGurk. Tell her to talk to Vanessa. See if she wants to stick around.
Vanessa McGurk. There’s an enigma best left unraveled, for both my sake and the ones around me. Perhaps one day, that one can be touched upon, but for now, I think that demon should be left untouched and undisturbed as it lies in it‘s sleeping position. [/color]
How about your title history. You’re a former champion god damn it! You won the tag team championships! You carried the division on your back and fought off all challengers, all while having an unreliable partner! Kurt, you’re preaching to the minister on that one. You’ve held the tag team titles.. So have I. Twice. I carried the tag team division for nearly eight months, during one of the hottest times in recent WFWF history. I carried those tag team titles and defended successfully against a who’s who of WFWF. Reverend Shadow? Check. Tha CBT? One of the first victims. WFWF legend M.O.D.? A fallen hero.
A fall from grace. That seems to be the common idea these days. All the heroes of yesteryear are falling to the wayside. Sabbaticals seem to be the new “in”, leaving everything you once knew behind to find yourself and find what you need and want to be. F*ck sabbaticals. I know who I am, why I am here, and why all those I hold dearest are near me. I know why the ones I miss were taken from me. I wish everyone had this inside information, because it would make life a hell of a lot simpler. Fate. It’s all about fate. Changing fate is disastrous, deadly even[/color]
Kurt Burton, what do you have that should make me respect you? What do you have that should make me stand back and say “wow, that guy’s good”? What..
Our hero’s rant is interrupted as his passenger awakes. With drowse eyes and a still resting body, she begins to speak.
Jessica: Daddy, I had the strangest dream..
Obo: We‘ll talk about it later honey. We‘re almost to Grandma and Grandpa‘s house and daddy has to drop you off and leave.
My car has been running like crap lately because of the cold weather and I was not looking forward to this car trip. As I pull away from the house, my passenger in the backseat almost immediately falls asleep. She is almost big enough to move out of her booster seat, but not quite. Her body looks almost awkward in the “almost too small” seat, but she rests comfortably regardless. I steer off of the street from our house and onto the high way. I dread this journey, but it is needed. She cannot see what has to be done. I try to steer my thoughts to other subjects, but they always seem to drift back to my journey, possibly because I cannot steer my mind away from the road for my own safety. I finally find a suitable thought train, and as has become the norm for me, I vocalize my thoughts aloud, even though I am the only conscience and responsive person in the area.
Kurt Burton, you think you deserve a world title shot? You think you deserve MY WORLD TITLE SHOT?? Pay your dues and then we’ll talk. Kurt Burton, where were you when WFWF was running shows in front of fifty people in Delta, Ohio? Where were you when we weren’t getting paid, Kurt Burton? Where we you when our “catering” consisted of the stale nasty old hot dogs that the concession booth girls had left over? Kurt Burton, where were you when everyone was quitting WFWF because times were hard? Where were you to pick up the slack when not one, not two, but three different sets of owners walked out? You were no where to be found. Kurt Burton, you’re a flash in the pan. You’re a fly by night success. Mother f*cker, you’re trying to steal money out of MY pocket. You’re trying to steal title contracts that I’VE earned. You’re trying to steal this big pay day that I earned after three mother f*cking years of undercard matches and sh*tty paydays.
Wrestling. It’s always what I drift back to. Even in the most trying time, wrestling always seems to be what my mind goes back to. Perhaps it’s because that’s how I make money. Instead of going to a regular job, making my money at a nine to five factory job or whatever, I wrestle. As my daughter so bluntly puts it, “Daddy hurts people for a living”. Hurting people. If only it were that simple. There’s always the politics. There’s always the behind the scenes bullsh*t. There’s always the he said she said crap that effects the final wrestling. If only it could be about wrestling and just “hurting people” instead of being about who can get inside the bosses ear the best..
This isn’t “doing business” any more, Kurt. This sh*t’s legit. Kurt Burton, by trying to run up the figurative ladder, you’re not just hurting me. You’re not just hurting my family. You’re hurting this federation. You’re trying to destroy this federation that you claim so dedication to. The federation that you claim to be the future of is in your hands at this moment and you’re choking the life out of it. Kurt Burton, you may be the future of WFWF, but I am the present. I am the current of this federation.
Kurt Burton, back when you were trying to be a little teenage garage band or whatever, I was working to establish this federation as a serious threat in the wrestling world by putting my body through hell. I’ve got a metal pin in my elbow instead of a bone from a match YEARS before you even considered wrestling as an option. I’ve seen your type, Kurt Burton. You’re out for the quick payday. You’re gonna find your big shiny gold belt and you’re going to run like a thieve in the night. You may ask “Obo, how do you know me so well?” Because Kurt Burton, I was you. Two years ago, I was you. I was the punk kid walking in and stepping on people’s toes, trying to climb the ladder as quickly as possible. I had the dead weight tag team partner and just like you, I dumped him as soon as possible. But what you’re failing to realize, Kurt Burton, is you aren’t me. You’re not the second coming of the “King of Gore”. You’re barely the first coming of Kurt Burton.
A car squeals it’s tires right in front of the vehicle and the vehicle comes to an abrupt stop. The offender quickly drives away, but not before the driver and hero yells a few obscenities.
There’s always some ass trying to get ahead in life, whether it be driving, wrestling, or whatever. Why can’t people just take the correct routes given to them and let things play out with the correct time line? Why attempt to change fate?
Kurt Burton, you’re just like so many people that come before you. What separates you from the pack? What gives you “it”. What gives you that certain something that the people look for in a superstar, and an idol? The fact that you carried Kyzer’s jock and picked up his used needles for a month? Any hobo could have done that. Just look at Percy.
Percy.. There’s someone I haven’t thought of in a while. He seems to have fallen off the face of the Earth these days. Michael Kyzer really did him wrong, but it seems I did him worse. Why stab a friend in the back the way I did? Why go for it? Because it’s what I needed. It was my fate. You cannot change fate. Attempting to change fate only ends in injury. I learned that the hard way.
How about that cum dumpster you have latched onto your arm? Does T&A make you a star? In one word, no. Many have gone that route before you and all ended with failure. Having some bimbo shadow you does nothing to build your credibility as a legitimate superstar, instead undoing what you may accomplish. When I look at Kat, I see nothing more than a flaw, a chink in the armor. Kat Hamilton will be your downfall, Kurt Burton. I suggest you either ditch her all together or remove her from wrestling. A woman behind any man does nothing for the man. Ask your buddy Wayne McGurk what bringing his girlfriend into wrestling got him with Obo. Your woman seems so friendly with Vanessa McGurk. Tell her to talk to Vanessa. See if she wants to stick around.
Vanessa McGurk. There’s an enigma best left unraveled, for both my sake and the ones around me. Perhaps one day, that one can be touched upon, but for now, I think that demon should be left untouched and undisturbed as it lies in it‘s sleeping position. [/color]
How about your title history. You’re a former champion god damn it! You won the tag team championships! You carried the division on your back and fought off all challengers, all while having an unreliable partner! Kurt, you’re preaching to the minister on that one. You’ve held the tag team titles.. So have I. Twice. I carried the tag team division for nearly eight months, during one of the hottest times in recent WFWF history. I carried those tag team titles and defended successfully against a who’s who of WFWF. Reverend Shadow? Check. Tha CBT? One of the first victims. WFWF legend M.O.D.? A fallen hero.
A fall from grace. That seems to be the common idea these days. All the heroes of yesteryear are falling to the wayside. Sabbaticals seem to be the new “in”, leaving everything you once knew behind to find yourself and find what you need and want to be. F*ck sabbaticals. I know who I am, why I am here, and why all those I hold dearest are near me. I know why the ones I miss were taken from me. I wish everyone had this inside information, because it would make life a hell of a lot simpler. Fate. It’s all about fate. Changing fate is disastrous, deadly even[/color]
Kurt Burton, what do you have that should make me respect you? What do you have that should make me stand back and say “wow, that guy’s good”? What..
Our hero’s rant is interrupted as his passenger awakes. With drowse eyes and a still resting body, she begins to speak.
Jessica: Daddy, I had the strangest dream..
Obo: We‘ll talk about it later honey. We‘re almost to Grandma and Grandpa‘s house and daddy has to drop you off and leave.
