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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