Last night was full of tragedy.
First, despite the heroic efforts of Drew Brees in the New Orleans Saints' victorious homecoming, my fantasy football team suffered its first of what is sure to be many humiliating losses of the season. First Hurricane Katrina and now this. Haven't the people of New Orleans suffered enough?
But even more tragically, my Monday night class schedule prevented me from watching WWE Monday Night RAW for the first time in probably 20 years (I know, I know - RAW hasn't technically existed for 20 years, but I also never missed an episode of its predecessor Prime Time Wrestling starring Gorilla Monsoon and Bobby "The Brain" Heenan before that, so get out of my ass, Johnny Technicality).
For most of my teenage years and adult life, I have literally planned my schedule so that I would be free on Monday nights. At times, I took it to fairly ridiculous lengths. When I was directing theater in college, some of my actors figured out that the "no Monday night rehearsals" rule was strictly to avoid missing the antics of "Stone Cold" Steve Austin on RAW and the NWO on Nitro. I damn near had a turtlenecked mutiny on my hands. In all fairness to me, the early 90's are considered by most experts as the last golden era of professional wrestling. My actors were not sympathetic to this fact.
But my Mondays are booked through January. It truly is the end of an era. I don't know what I'm going to do. I guess I'll have to subsist on the four other nights a week that six more hours of first-run pro wrestling air. How will I ever survive?
First, despite the heroic efforts of Drew Brees in the New Orleans Saints' victorious homecoming, my fantasy football team suffered its first of what is sure to be many humiliating losses of the season. First Hurricane Katrina and now this. Haven't the people of New Orleans suffered enough?
But even more tragically, my Monday night class schedule prevented me from watching WWE Monday Night RAW for the first time in probably 20 years (I know, I know - RAW hasn't technically existed for 20 years, but I also never missed an episode of its predecessor Prime Time Wrestling starring Gorilla Monsoon and Bobby "The Brain" Heenan before that, so get out of my ass, Johnny Technicality).
For most of my teenage years and adult life, I have literally planned my schedule so that I would be free on Monday nights. At times, I took it to fairly ridiculous lengths. When I was directing theater in college, some of my actors figured out that the "no Monday night rehearsals" rule was strictly to avoid missing the antics of "Stone Cold" Steve Austin on RAW and the NWO on Nitro. I damn near had a turtlenecked mutiny on my hands. In all fairness to me, the early 90's are considered by most experts as the last golden era of professional wrestling. My actors were not sympathetic to this fact.
But my Mondays are booked through January. It truly is the end of an era. I don't know what I'm going to do. I guess I'll have to subsist on the four other nights a week that six more hours of first-run pro wrestling air. How will I ever survive?
10 Comments:
ever heard of a vcr, jackass?
VCR is so 90s. Get a TiVo, jackass.
Jackass!
Hey yo.
I don't believe in taping things. If I miss it, I miss it. I don't live in the past.
That's utterly retarded.
That's utterly retarded.
Okay, so my VCR is old and broken and I can't afford TiVo. But the first way sounded much cooler.
You're gonna get the SMACKDOWN now, boy.
Even if you do tape things, you won't have time to watch them anyway. If you have time for TV-watching in grad school, then I seriously question the efficacy of your program.
I managed to sneak in an hour of ECW last night. The Rob Van Dam-Hardcore Holly match was brutal. Brutal, I say.
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