I left wrestling back in my childhood, WHERE IT BELONGS. But to me, the greatest thing about the WWE wasn't the acrobatics or forearm shivers to the solar-plexus. Oh no, that paled in comparison to the toys and products Vinny McMahon produced. Think about it. The WWF action figures with moving parts? Money in el f*cking banco. The WWF ice cream bars with the outer cookie coating? No one tasted more like salvation than that hoe Miss Elizabeth (may she rest in peace). Who can forget the replica championship and intercontinental belts? Answer: no one. And Wrestling Buddies? Forget it, those were the holy f*cking grail. Come here, Jake the Snake, I want to DDT your ugly face into the f*cking ground. See how you like it. Truthfully, I didn't own JTS (who would buy their kid that loser?), I owned the Ultimate Warrior, and I'm bringing this up because last night I walked past a full-grown man who was carrying an Ultimate Warrior Wrestling Buddy. Thing was mint. No signs of wear or tear on it at all. Envy consumed me like a poor kid. Who is the f*ck is this a**hole? And just where does he get off walking down the street with my childhood, while I'm here buying groceries and my Warrior is buried in the county dump?
I guess what I'm saying is that Wrestling Buddy was a lot like Andy Dufresne to me. We had a lot of good years together. But..."I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up DOES rejoice. But still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend." And I'm sorry his final resting place is some Pennsylvanian trash heap. He deserved far better.