The Blind Man Bloggeth – In Which I Make Up for Not Doing a Blog Last Week

I violated the internet’s greatest tenet last week and broke my blog’s consistency, to the dismay of no one, surely. Still, I feel compelled to explain my absence, since last week should have been the week during which I should have written two, maybe even three blogs, instead of the usual one. Instead, I took the high road and published an astounding zero.

In all honesty, it was a week I couldn’t bring myself to articulate. Several times I sat down and tried to put into words the exhilarating highs and debilitating lows this nerd experienced last week, and each time I ultimately ended up watching these adorable dog videos to lift my spirits.

It was, for us fake sports fanatics, the greatest week of the year, a week that makes the other 51 shake with shame and inferiority. It was WrestleMania week, the culmination of the most important stories, the end to a struggle, the end of a saga, and the end of a legacy. Going into my ninth Mania week, however, I didn’t realize just how many things would end before the extravagant five days were through.

I don’t wish to step on any sensibilities in drawing the following parallels. I understand that the stories WWE presents on television are, like all the best dramas, the product of dozens of eternally grinding imaginative gears. I understand, to that end, that death is very real. I write these words with the most respect for James Hellwig’s legacy and his beautiful family that one soul can muster.

With that said, I’ll try to explain the emotional roller coaster of the last week or so. If you’re not a pro wrestling person, or worse, a staunch observer who refuses to read with an open mind, my words won’t make you understand. Thanks for reading, but I’m sure these silly cats will better entertain you this week.

The WrestleMania festivities were a meeting of nostalgia and newness. Wrestling legend Jake “The Snake” Roberts’ Hall of fame speech set the pace for the crazy outpouring of emotion the next few days would prove to be, with stories of his incredible success in the late 80s leading to suicidal drunken wretchedness over the next two decades, and finally a physical and spiritual recovery that let Roberts enjoy both his supporters and legacy one more time on a grand stage. If you saw the speech and were not moved, we probably shouldn’t hang out anymore.

The strange mix of feelings continued into the next day, WrestleMania day, with scruffy underdog Daniel Bryan finally triumphing over the markedly insurmountable odds put in front of him by an evil pair of oppressors. The months of “close but no cigar” made his final victory all the sweeter, a triumph that gave fans cause to throw their hands in the air and make monosyllabic declarations in as wild a manner as possible. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

But a dark cloud hung over this glorious show-closing celebration, as earlier in the night, the iconic 21-0 undefeated streak of The Undertaker was snuffed out by the awesome Brock Lesnar, a walking monstrosity whose very existence makes children fear for their well-being as adults. Again, for the uninitiated, the idea that grown men cried in New Orleans because a wrestler was beaten sounds absurd; but when Taker’s 20-plus streak was broken, that is precisely how passionate fans reacted. Undertaker winning at WrestleMania was just as much of a constant as the sun rising tomorrow, forcing one to ask, “What even is life?”

But again, I go back to this idea of the manufactured vs. the real. Of course, the last two happenings I described were the former. This next happening was most unfortunately very very real.

After years of cold detachment from World Wrestling Entertainment, wrestling icon The Ultimate Warrior made his triumphant return to the company to accept a Hall of Fame induction, where he broke a long-held silence and thanked his supporters in a surprisingly coherent manner. The following day, he appeared at WrestleMania, and the day after that he appeared on WWE’s “Raw” television show where he channeled the Ultimate Warrior character of old, violently shaking the ropes and decreeing that “the spirit of the Warrior is forever.” 24 hours after that, James Hellwig collapsed from a heart attack and was pronounced dead minutes later. He was 54.

I have been a fan of professional wrestling for almost 10 years now, and I have seen many of the people I used to watch on TV shuffle off this mortal coil. Never have I been so affected by a wrestling death than by that of The Ultimate Warrior. It took some time, but I believe I have figured out why.

As a kid, I was different. I tried my best to be one of the crew, and I succeeded. I wasn’t a freak, alienated or cast aside. I was a kid. But as accepting as my friends always seemed to be, there was no denying that I was different. I was shy. I couldn’t talk to girls. I liked different music. I got around differently. I had more to prove than most kids my age, particularly the fact that I belonged with normal kids my age.

As I sifted through my cousins’ boxes on boxes of old WWF VHS tapes, I became acquainted with The Ultimate Warrior and I found a conduit. Here was a man who was undoubtedly different. He wore tassels. He didn’t strut, but charged at full speed to the ring. He shook the ropes and then sprinted around the ring before finally getting into it. He growled and claimed to be from another planet. This guy was different, and he was the coolest. He wasn’t the best wrestler, but to 10-year-old Des Delgadillo, he was the cat’s pajamas.

I read something the other day that I had to share here. A friend wrote on Twitter, “We expect superheroes to live forever, and when they die, as a people, we are at our most vulnerable.” To me, Warrior was that superhero, and I believe what I felt when I heard of his passing was sadness, yes, but also a profound thing called vulnerability. This raving lunatic, this awesome raving lunatic who had inspired a strange kind of confidence in a 10-year-old me was gone.

I’m happy that Warrior did the same for countless kids in my situation for two generations, and I hope with services like the WWE Network, his legacy can touch generations to come, long after Warrior’s untimely passing.

This blog will undoubtedly solidify my status as terribly obsessive fanboy, but I care not. Next week I’ll be funnier, but I felt compelled to share this with you.

Until next week, “Bow to the power of The Ultimate Warrior!”

–Des

People’s Podcast – The One Where the Power of the Ultimate Warrior is Coursing Through Our Veins

It’s no secret that The Ultimate Warrior’s passing hit us pretty hard. Faraaz and I thought long and hard about it before deciding, since we can’t exactly build our own Warrior statue, we would pay tribute to his ultimate excellency through a full hour of Warrior history. Let us take you through the bad and the, well, in hindsight, a lot of Warrior’s history wasn’t too favorable. But here’s a guy whose superhero persona captivated children everywhere and, hopefully, through the preservative magic of the WWE Network, the power of The Ultimate Warrior can run through the minds and bodies of a whole new generation of Little Warriors!

Click here to download (about 15 MB).

Click hereto subscribe to all TDS shows and leave us rave reviews on iTunes.

Hit us up on the other parts of the web, Facebook.com/ThingsDesSays, Twitter.com/Desdelgadillo, twitter.com/Monkeypusher69, Twitter.com/ThaWisp.

Culture My Pop – The Twitterface Showdown Begins

A happy Saturday to your ass, wherever your ass may be.

After two weeks of missing in action, our wacky variety show is back, and we are very quickly accosted by the dastardly Twitterface. Hear a shocking revelation about Twitterface and the delightfully old and racist British guys, and meet Twitterface’s snobby attorneys. And Twitterface makes a scary promise. Will he keep it?

Plus, talk of “How I Met Your Mother” quickly spins off into talk of cartoons, Toonami, and other childish exploits.

We’ve missed culturing your pop, so let us do it already, damn!

Click here to download (about 20 MB).

Click hereto subscribe to all TDS shows and leave us rave reviews on iTunes.

Hit us up on the other parts of the web, Facebook.com/ThingsDesSays, Twitter.com/Desdelgadillo, twitter.com/Monkeypusher69, Twitter.com/ThaWisp.

People’s Podcast – The Wrestlemania Hangover Sans Mike Tyson or Mike Tyson’s Tiger

If you must ask, yes, the following podcast is rife with WrestleMania spoilers and satirical snark. If you have yet to enjoy Mania, piss off!

Welcome to probably the worst morning of the year: The morning after WrestleMania, during which grapple fans across the world nurse the beginnings of a 364-day-long hangover until Mania 31.

Let Faraaz and I rub your head and tell you everything’s going to be okay as we recap the wild adventure that was Wrestlemania XXX and the buzz/heartbreak surrounding it. Plus, thoughts on A Wrestling Odyssey, “Open the Ultimate Gate,” Shimmer 62, WWE’s Hall of Fame ceremony, Mr. T’s Mother, and so much more.

Happy Monday from your favorite, or not favorite, website in the world.

Click here to download (about 20 MB).

Click hereto subscribe to all TDS shows and leave us rave reviews on iTunes.

Hit us up on the other parts of the web, Facebook.com/ThingsDesSays, Twitter.com/Desdelgadillo, twitter.com/Monkeypusher69, Twitter.com/ThaWisp.

2014 Wrestlemania Preview Podcast Extravaganza

Wrestlemania Weekend is finally here, and that means we’ve reached the zenith of our pseudo sport-related geekery.

Myself and Tha Wisp gots the lowdown on virtually everything happening this weekend and what we’re most stoked for, and what we’re most not stoked for. And of course, lots and lots of speculation about the big show, the big dance, the grand daddy of them all, Wrestlemania on Sunday. Will the internet live to tell the tale of the first Mania on the WWE Network?

We shall return at the ass-crack of dawn Monday morning for a full look-back, but until then, sit back and enjoy, geeks! This weekend is going to rule!

Click here to download (about 18 MB).

Click hereto subscribe to all TDS shows and leave us rave reviews on iTunes.

Hit us up on the other parts of the web, Facebook.com/ThingsDesSays, Twitter.com/Desdelgadillo, twitter.com/Monkeypusher69, Twitter.com/ThaWisp.

The Blind Man Bloggeth – In Which I Talk About Your Mother

I am certain God not only reads but fangirls over this blog, as every time I fully intend on flaking on all of you in true lazy comedian fashion, some sort of divine intervention inevitably pushes me to vomit out some kind of Tuesday offering. You’re welcome, iGod. This blind man bloggeth.

I am not having the best week, both personally and professionally. Should you ever find yourself in my position, I give you this amazing ranking of Mitch Hedberg jokes. I defy you to enter the Hedberg zone and not smile. I wish Mitch were still with us. Often I’ll catch myself writing a joke and thinking, “I’d never say this. But Mitch would.” I shudder at the money I could be making writing and selling jokes to Mitch. I could buy so many nachos after making that Hedberg cheddar. But I digress.

I couldn’t wait to get home last night to spend time with your mother. Although I have only known your mother for about a year, the magic of Netflix made it feel like I have known her for nine. Last night the affair came to an end.

“How I Met Your Mother” concluded its nine-year run last night, and as is the norm, geeks took to Twitter to drop 140-character turds of displeasure. I will not link to them here because I wish to be part of the solution, not the problem.

It’s no secret that I have watched the last two seasons of “How I Met Your Mother” out of spite more than actual enjoyment, which admittedly is not how one should view comedy, but damn it, I made an investment and I needed to see how it turned out. Would I end up with a magic beanstalk or just some dirty old frijoles unworthy of even the most shameful of tortillas?

I have heard the comment that the last nine years have turned the Maclaren’s crew from television characters to something resembling real friends whose lives motivate us, then hurt us, then bring us back up again on a high of possible romance and sojourns to Italy. If true, what a frustrating, long-winded group of friends to have. My one requirement for friendship is the ability to tell a story in no more than five prime time seasons.

On to last night’s finale. I am of two minds on this. As far as a sitcom goes, the hour-long extravaganza was entirely not funny. I even got frustrated enough to time out the jokes at one point, and I noticed a gap of six minutes between two jokes during the second episode. Is it healthy for a situational comedy to be all situation and no comedy?

But the finale was emotionally gratifying on a grand scale, paying things off, tying things up, fiving some highs. I didn’t laugh, but in the end I felt good about each character’s lot in life, so I guess I’m okay with it. I guess.

And in the end, the idea of spending nine years telling his kids a story just to win their approval to date their aunt Robin is so Ted Mosby.

I could not help but feel insulted, however, from a story telling perspective. I will not purport to be an expert on stories, but I have told a lie or two in my day, and that’s kind of a story. The entire ninth season revolved entirely, with no exception, around Barney and Robin’s eminent wedding. The main sidebar for the first half of the season was even about Marshall trying to get to the wedding. This wedding must be pretty damn special, the viewer is led to think, something central and important to this whole nine-year story. Nope! Let’s get a divorce, because this is America! Obviously this could not have been avoided considering Ted and Robin, I guess, needed to end up together, but it felt like a blatant slap to the face of anyone who invested time in this last season, which took place almost exclusively in that damn hotel.

What that slap in the face helped to set up, though, might outweigh the negatives. Robin’s inability to have children would have eliminated the possibility of Barney’s most pivotal development, marking the first time during the two-parter where I got seriously choked up and thankful I was watching alone. The second time, of course, was the final revelation regarding the mother’s death six years prior to Ted beginning his story.

Most reviews I have read so far assigned the finale a grade of B. Although I find that tactic to be overly tacky (who the hell are you to assign letter grades to stuff without your teaching credential, you pretentious dick?), the grade itself is fair. I will joke about how long it took to tell this story forever, but I don’t regret the investment. Still, you most likely will not catch me watching “How I Met Your Dad–just chill, lady. Damn!

That’s all this week, lads and lasses. Our content schedule will be more inconsistent than usual this week since Wrestlemania weekend consumes us all beginning Friday. For more talk of sitcoms and awful jokes about various unfunny things, flash me your tweets.

–Des

People’s Podcast – The One Where Twitterface Kidnaps a Host

Greetings, grapple fans! In an unprecedented move, that limey bastard Twitterface decided to kidnap me before this great podcast. I need to stop trusting strangers and their candy, but I will not.

The Oreo Monster and Sherlock Homeboy have you covered though, hitting the high notes of Raw and the low notes of Impact, A.K.A. all of Impact. Plus, Wispy thinks WWE did the right thing by bravely keeping Daniel Bryan off Raw, and the Cena-Wyatt thing has been pretty damn good.

Enjoy this hour of grappling goodness, and because ’tis the season, Faraaz and I will be back Friday for a special preview of Wrestlemania, because why not?

Click here (about 33 MB).

Click hereto subscribe to all TDS shows and leave us rave reviews on iTunes.

Hit us up on the other parts of the web, Facebook.com/ThingsDesSays, Twitter.com/Desdelgadillo, twitter.com/Monkeypusher69, Twitter.com/ThaWisp.

The Blind Man Bloggeth – In Which I Bitch About Stuff and Get Felt Up by an Old Lady

Time Warner effectively killed the wrestling business 13 years ago. Now they’re doing it to L.A. baseball, too. The Dodgers opened up the 2014 baseball season early Saturday down under, which is all well and good, except I can’t watch them because of Time Warner’s insistence on gouging rival cable outlets over the new L.A. sports network. Beyond that, should I look into an MLB subscription, blackout restrictions would force me to watch the games on delay, and there’s nothing more un-American than watching sports on a delay. In short, my two real options for enjoying Dodger baseball in Los Angeles are to learn to use a proxy server, which is pretty much illegal, or switching cable providers. Oh, Verizon. You’re lucky your internet is excellent or I would have dropped you faster than a TNA rating. This, as you may imagine, pisses me off. Could it be the work of Twitterface? Has he finally gotten to me? To my family? We’ll have more Saturday on “Culture My Pop,” but until then, here’s a video of legendary Dodgers broadcaster Vin Scully hanging out with a Koala.

Music doth tame the savage beast, particularly savage, beast-like music. I ventured to The Troubadour with Rudy Saturday to see The Orwells, a rowdy bunch of Chicago lads with a propensity for rock ‘n’ roll badassery. The opening band, “Criminal Hygiene,” did a fine job of rocking my face with a sexy psychobilly groove. I had not heard of these guys before but they have cracked my list of bands to check out in the future. The other openers, “Twin Peaks,” left me deaf and perplexed. Perhaps they couldn’t get on the same page that night, or perhaps they’re just no good. Who knows? Orwells certainly made up for the previous band’s not-goodness, however. It has been a long time since I rocked so hard. It has also been a long time since I had been thoroughly felt up by a strange old lady at a show. This, too, was rectified Saturday night, and I can’t say I was proud of that. Still, The Orwells are a band that is young and full of fire, rock ‘n’ roll personified. If they’re near you, go see The Orwells. And we even got an encore, so you can suck it, Letterman.

Speaking of The Orwells, they announced the June 3 release of their debut album, “Disgraceland,” here. How’s that for topical?

Netflix, now Apple? The attack on net neutrality continues. Be informed. Apple is quickly becoming the measuring stick for Silicon Valley practices, and if they can ink a deal with Comcast, we may see a dangerous precedent for how big companies handle our internet. There’s no joke to be made here. Ladies and gentlemen, this is serious.

I will be making jokes Thursday night in Burbank, though. Come cheer me to victory in the Flappers College Comedy Contest.

Until next time, hit me with yo’ tweets, @DesDelgadillo, and let’s go face to Facebook, Facebook.com/ThingsDesSays.

–Des

Peoples Podcast – Of Supermen and Scooby Doos

Greetings grapple fans. Piledrive your Monday blues away with a podcast that’s all men in tights!

We talk with our friend Hassan about his new documentary, “Supermen: A Story of British Wrestlers”, a great look of U.K. wrestling’s past and present. The film is out for your viewing pleasure April 5. Hassan talks about putting the documentary together after watching “The Wrestler,” the story telling style, interviewing certain legends of the craft, and so much more.

Then, we look at the entire WWE 2014 Hall of Fame class as it stands now, and what if Scooby Doo fought Robocop at Wrestlemania? Who would they tag with? How can Steve call himself a WCW fan without having seen the infamous Robocop incident? HOW? All this and more!

Click here to download (about 15 MB).

Click hereto subscribe to all TDS shows and leave us rave reviews on iTunes.

Hit us up on the other parts of the web, Facebook.com/ThingsDesSays, Twitter.com/Desdelgadillo, twitter.com/Monkeypusher69, Twitter.com/ThaWisp.