It's
been a while.
Yeah,
I know, it's been a while. Been a loooong time since
I have delved into the world I created, this induction
thingamajobber that I created nearly ten years ago
wherein I look at the stupidest things in pro wrestling,
watching them and analyzing them for your (hoped)
amusement and my (known) unending pain. But with
a sore throat preventing me from doing a new WrestleCrap
Radio this week, I thought it was time that I did
an induction I started trying to do over 6 months
ago.
And
for that you can not only thank my failing voice
box, but the Indianapolis Marion County Public Library.
Yes,
the library. You know, the place where you can go
borrow books, movies, and CDs without ever dropping
a dime? Yeah, well back in March of this year, I
saw something sitting on the shelf that I knew would
make for a good induction. A little plastic jewel
case with this peeking out:
Except
it wasn't shiny and pristine like that image. No,
it was in a cracked case with library stickers and
barcodes and crap all over it. Looked like this:
So
I've had it in my laptop case for the last six months.
I've done a lot of traveling for work in that time,
and I've been a lot of places - New Orleans, Vegas,
Scottsdale. And everytime I would get ready to head
out, I would think to myself, "Ok, I really
need to listen to that stupid CD and write the induction."
But
I never did.
And
then...then the emails started.
Email
after email from the library, telling me that the
CD was due back. Undeterred, thinking I would get
to it, I would dutifully renew it. No joke, I've
renewed it nine times.
NINE
TIMES.
Seriously,
here's
the proof if you don't believe me. I can only
think what the librarians must think of me for hoarding
it for this long. No wonder I get those odd looks
ever time I wander into the place.
So....let's
just get this thing done. But before we do, if you
would allow me this disclaimer: I don't hate John
Cena. In fact, when he first showed up 7 years ago
or whatever it was, I actually found him pretty
amusing. Sure, he's nothing more than a WWE shill
these days, spitting up whatever idiotic buzzword
the company wants to push in any given week and
getting the masses to recite it. "WWE Universe",
anyone?
I
also get that he is a merchandise machine for Vince
& Linda, so it makes perfect sense that along
with t-shirts and teddy bears and foam hands and
whatever the heck else they can make out of fabric
or foam, they'd want to do a rap CD with the guy.
It's a business, I get it. I can't blame them for
milking Cena.
(Note
from Kelly: That's an image I never need hear of,
let alone see, again.)
Please,
keep this knowledge in mind as you read the rest
of this woefilled tale. I don't hate Cena.
This
CD, though?
Uh,
yeah, that I hate.
| The
disc opens as you'd expect: with his The
Time is Now entrance theme. That's
fine. While I can't say it's something I sing
in the shower in the morning (Note
from Kelly: another image I never need hear
of, let alone see, again), it's catchy
and memorable.
When
you hear it, you know who's heading out. WWE
needs more distinct music for their guys.
This is different than everyone else's on
the roster, and that is a win.
And
thus ends anything on this disc that can possibly
be considered a "win." |
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For
next up, we get a heart-warming little toe
tapper entitled Don't Fuck With Us.
That's
decidely un-PG. Bet that wouldn't pass Vince's
watchful eye these days.
And
oh how I wish the WWE censors would have
been in full force five years ago. The world
could have peacefully existed without hearing
a song that begins with what sounds like
a siren from the first Metal Gear on the
NES...
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...and
then
a giant bull frog.
Or
maybe it's a fart. I lend credence to the
latter, actually, as at one point, Cena
begins rapping about various types of cheese.
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No
joke.
I
dare say if John Cena spent the entire disc
singing about food products, it would be
a far more enjoyable listening experience.
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Flow
Easy
is up next, a
whirlwind adventure about shoe sizes and
encounters with Jack Frost.
~shivers~
Ugh,
Jack Frost. I remember reviewing that thing
for Christmas a couple years back. I seriously
have to question why I decided that torturing
myself with horrible wrestling stuff wasn't
enough, so I started watching Christmas
movies that sucked so I could write about
them too.
By
comparison, doing a goofball radio show
dealing with a hobo, robots, decomposing
old disc jockeys, and a guy who claims to
be the world's most irritated Jim Ross impersonator
seems heaven by comparison.
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Ever
wanted to hear a Fisher Price piano in the
world's most annoying stereo mix? Then I'd
suggest Right
Now cueing for your next wedding,
birthday, bar mitzvah, or wake!
(Note
Warning from Kelly: Kids, do NOT listen
to that clip with headphones on. Your brain
may explode.)
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| Fat
Albert and the Junkyard Band show up next,
to perform Make It Loud.
Laugh
if you will - when I hear that wonky horn
going, I can just picture Dumb Donald blowing
away.
Maybe
it's just me. |
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Just
Another Day is a juxtaposition piece
wherein Cena complains about his riches
and fame while some poor schmoe bellyaches
about not having a penny to his name.
This
fascinating debate comes to a head when
Cena says the old timers in the locker room
are saying it's not his time.
The
loser guy? Apparently he has, and I am quoting
here, "Nacho
Grime."
Man,
I don't even think they sell that on the
value menu at Taco Bell. I'll have to ask
Blade if they have that at Taco Tico the
next time I talk to him.
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Oh,
and that doofus doing the non-battle rap with
Cena in the last song? Apparently that's Tha
Trademarc, who is Cena's cousin or something.
Please please please, don't email me the details.
If I'm not even up for Googling the information,
I'm certainly going to put forth the mental
energy to read 57 emails about him.
I
mention this only because in the next song,
Summer Flings, we get Cena telling
us about his "white chocolate" and
some girl singing about how she wants to take
him home. Ah, romance is in the air.
Well,
until third wheel Trademarc starts in, be-boppin'
in a fashion that...how do I put this nicely?
I
can't, so I will just say that if Scooter
from the Muppets ever decided to rap,
Trademarc would be the perfect voice for him.
Oh,
and I never want white chocolate again. Thanks
a lot, jerks! |
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Oh, and in case you didn't pick up that
this CD isn't for kids, we get Keep
Frontin', in which Cena tells us he
"fucks
like a fiend with three dicks."
I'm
no doctor, John, but I think if I had that
malady, I'd be heading to a clinic, not
bragging about it.
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The
Fisher Price piano returns in We Didn't
Want You To Know. I'd comment further
on the song, but I couldn't get past the
first 30 seconds, which consisted of exactly
four notes, which were then repeated in
reverse.
Oh,
and the less said about Bad, Bad Man,
the better.
Sorry, even I have my limits.
(Note
from Blade: Wimp. Check out this week's
It Came From YouTube! to see what RD missed.)
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Running
Game follows those disasters, and
if Cena's potty mouth and tales of ribaldry
weren't enough to have parents rooting through
their kids' rooms to ensure this disc wasn't
on their iPods, we get over the top violence.
And
when I say "over the top violence",
I am talking about dojos
in which you get your throat slit.
I
don't think even Kreese was that much of
a scumbag.
(Note
from Kelly: Well, I don't know. His star
pupil lost to a one-legged kid jumping in
the air like a bird. Can't really say I
would blame him for brandishing a bowie.)
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An
homage to Cena's home town of Boston is
up next in the form of Beantown,
as he sings about Tom Brady and David Ortiz
and a pot of soup.
Or
something.
I
don't know.
Please
tell me I can quit listening to this.
PLEASE.
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I
mean, come on...how many songs are on this
thing? This next one is song 13. THIRTEEN
SONGS, and there are, no joke, FOUR MORE
AFTER THIS.
This
one is This is How We Roll, which
sounds like some horrible Hannah Montana
direct-to-DVD disaster.
I'm
running out of ways to describe how bad
this thing is. Remember in This is Spinal
Tap when they got their review for
Shark Sandwich and it was just
a two word review, that being "shit
sandwich"?
Cena
actually raps those two words here.
Yup.
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What
Now is a tale of two songs.
The
first song, which lasts about two minutes,
is a horrible song which doesn't feature
John Cena.
The
second song, which lasts about two minutes,
does feature John Cena.
So
it's a
lose-lose proposition.
~sigh~
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And
now...now I get someone
laughing at me?
Well,
screw you, Know the Rep.
You
can fill up this 250x180 pixel text box
on your own!
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Ok,
time out. What kind of disc is this on?
It cannot possibly be a CD. Can't be. For
general commercial distribution, those have
a limit of 74 minutes. This thing...it has
to be at the three hour mark already as
we get Chain
Gang is in the Click.
Or
maybe it's clink.
Yeah,
I'm going to say it's clink.
No,
better yet - Klink.
That's
the only way I can make it through this.
Help me, Colonel Klink!
Hogan!
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And
mercifully, thank you, Lord, MERCIFULLY ends
with If It All Ended Tomorrow, in
which we get a philosophical discussion of
what would happen indeed, if
it all ended tomorrow? |
If
it all ended tomorrow? What would I do?
I'd
return this disc to the library tonight.
Last
thing I'd want is to have Mrs. Deal paying late
fees for a John Cena CD.
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