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Wrestling Chant Inventions
"The Swerved"
by Stephen Rivera
For Stephen's latest blog entries, please visit
The Swerved every
Monday. The Armpit is privileged to post classic Swerved blog
entries from the past every week.
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In the year 2000... and a bit, I have noticed the
need for a wrestling chant revolution. All the chant entities you hear
today are played out and cliché. Therefore, I propose the following
chants for your enjoyment and entertainment. Perhaps, wrestling fans may
take these catchy phrases with them to live events and make them
infinitely famous. I know I am but one man, but with the addition and
support of others, I will have enough influence in wrestling to become a
massive man who towers over skyscrapers and nearby cities. How will I do
this? I'll mostly scotch tape all of us together, then give everyone a
bullhorn so we can really be intimidating.
Anyway, here they are:
"Ri-bo-fla-vin, *clap-clap, clap-clap-clap*, Ri-bo-fla-vin,
*clap-clap, clap-clap-clap*"
Bran cereals are hardcore. They competed in Extreme Championship
Wrestling from 1996 to 1999. All-Bran even stole girlfriend and had a
child with your mother... and got away with it. You won't admit it, but
it's true. True and sure as sugar.
"Holy piss!"
Why should excrement be the only sacred, human-waste-related object in
wrestling? When our God (Kevin Federline) invented Earth, I think he
wanted the human race to worship more than one form of bodily cleansing.
Therefore, "Number One", also known as urine, should be given priority
over "Number Three", which refers to sneezing, and "Number
Twenty-Seven", which hasn't been invented yet. If I had to guess, it
would either be plasma or nougat.
"Let's get married, *clap-clap, clap-clap-clap*, you're quite
enchanting, *clap-clap, clap-clap-clap*"
You know when a scantily clad Diva, or a female wrestler, looks very
physically appealing and you can't take your eyes off of her? You know
that uncomfortable feeling you get in your enchanted kingdom when
there's a very sultry, women's bra and panties bout or pillow fight
match on television? Don't those sights just make you want to settle
down and start a family? I firmly believe that the integration of
catfights into professional wrestling was for the purpose of determining
what woman should bare your children. Of course, the winner of the
battle would be your most ideal mate since her victory would prove that
she is most willing to fight for social status, food, and other
necessary supplies. Whatever you do, refrain from choosing the loser for
she will be high-maintenance and have the shortest fingernails,
therefore making the process of opening cans of various drinks
incredibly tiresome.
"STARFISH... BERG! STARFISH... BERG!"
I've always believed that this is what Goldberg was thinking during his
grandiose entrances into the arena. Just as the pyro goes off and he
uppercuts the air, he seemed to have a surreal, out-of-body experience
which suggested his underlying wishes to live in the ocean. For example,
I distinctly recall his first WCW World Title victory over Hollywood
Hogan. Right after that win, he poured a jug of water on himself and
spread his entire body out on the canvas in the middle of the ring; that
was when I realized that part of his anger and aggression came from the
fact that he's bald and of Jewish faith. Instead, he probably wanted to
exist as a being who sporadically shows up on the shore and best
befriends Spongebob Squarepants. When he returns to wrestling, watch his
eyes. He wants to be a starfish more than anything in the world. The "Starfishberg"
gimmick should debut soon after.
"You f*** cups! You f*** cups!"
Hardly anyone will understand it when it's first introduced, but when
disposable and plastic cups are confirmed as masculine by both the
French language and the Association of Dudes Who are Strangely
Comfortable Showering with Each Other, it will become one of the
greatest insults in the industry. Not one wrestler will screw up a move
or sequence ever again. I don't blame them because if they do, they will
forever be singled out as the guy who has relations with temporary
drinking apparatuses that are also males.
"That's-a good-a pizza pie!"
This is a chant not only complimentary to those of the Italian
persuasion, but the inventor of pizza too... good ol' Nathaniel Pizza.
Sure, you may think the chant is silly now, but you'll be in for a
surprise when WWE introduces a wrestler with a Pizza Hut gimmick. His
weapon? Those miniature, white tables you get with a large pepperoni.
Recently, I hit an enemy of mine with one of those tables. In about five
years, he's in for some type of discomfort.
"Lita is a hooooooooooooo(mebody)!"
WWE fans all around this here globe are aware of the fact that Lita
enjoys many a "Sky Captain" in her "World of Tomorrow". I was just as
amazed as you when I found out that she wasn't the purest of the pure.
In fact, when I first heard the news, I said to myself, "Wow, that's
amazing. My reaction is one of great amazement." In the professional
world of wrestling, I am always shocked and appalled when I gain
knowledge of seedy doings within the confines of the business. "This is
a gentleman's sport," I say with gusto while I spread fine caviar on my
Lunchables snack pack crackers.
Truthfully, I don't want to hear who dabbled with whom in the thorny
thicket of pleasure. Wrestling insiders should tell me something useful
about a personality instead. For example, just the other day, an unnamed
source told me that Lita does not like to go out very much. When it
comes down to it, she'd rather stay at home on a Saturday night and read
a good book than partake in the excitement of wild weekend parties.
She's a homebody and the world has to be aware of the fact; now, that's
something to ridicule her about. Forget about that Edge stuff. So, she
likes to stay indoors? Jinkies. What an indoor whore.
"(Let's get ready to) cross stitch!"
Those lovable old scamps Triple H and Shawn Michaels collectively
reference their crotchal and stomachal areas with swift, chopped,
mirrored hand movements in reaction to adversaries they deem as inferior
or flawed. If you want to be like D-Generation X and join in on their
shenanigans, that's fine, but there are better alternatives out there to
show your rebellion. Fans can prove their anti-authoritative nature by
taking out their sewing equipment to embroider nasty sayings on
neckerchiefs as gifts for hated relatives and friends. In my opinion,
the ultimate diss one human being can shell out to another is the gift
of well-crafted, foul-mouthed neck garments.
Stephen
Rivera is the author of
The Swerved, one of the most critically acclaimed blogs on the
internet. To read Stephen's brand new posts every week, please
visit The Swerved
every Monday. |
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