We had three hours of RAW to enjoy this week, and I actually enjoyed most of it. Though I have to admit I have mixed feelings. Should I be excited that this “Trump era” might be really original and make RAW fresh for the first time in years? It could. This gives the writers a little freedom to do all sorts of cool stuff. On the other hand, its Donald Trump. He's not even interesting on his own show. Plus we have HHH as number one contender again, and you know what that means. That's right. Its all about the game, and I'm not talking UNO.

  This thing on my head? It's 16 time world champion Ric Flair.

Apparently this whole debacle got a little bit of attention from the “main stream” press. You know only Rush Limbaugh and wrestling fans talk about a “main stream” press. Vince McMahon eats it up though and always has. It's the same reason he has grown men kiss his ass. He's a closet homosexual. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Most of my gay friends, however, could care less about the main stream press.

There was a lot of decent wrestling on RAW this week as well. For instance, Jericho beat up the only person shorter than him. Then again, if Mysterio was smart, he'd buy shoes with lifts twice as big as Jericho's. I'm talking KISS boots. Something to make Gene Simmons proud. Randy Orton, in a good match, is champ again. Did he have a nose job or did I dream that? I think I must have dreamed it. In any event, with HHH as the #1 contender, we can't expect this to last long. I really don't think HHH is going to lose yet another title match.

Miz and Goldust had a fairly entertaining segment—especially the part about Miz changing his name to “Wiz.” Though what Miz said about Goldie hit so close to home it was a bit uncomfortable. Plus, to quote Eric Cartman—you don't shoot a man in the junk. I mean damn, Miz, you just shot a little person in the junk. Holy crap. Uncool. I do want one of those “no Cena” shirts though.

A RAW with no commercial interruptions is like a visit to the in-laws with no commercial interruptions.

James Mitchell apparently tried out for WWE's Florida developmental branch recently—or that is he tried, but was denied entry for not paying a thousand bucks.   You have to pay 1000 bucks to try out for wrestling? As a person who grew up in a trailer park, I resent this.   That's half of our tax refund money. Do you know how much Mac and Cheese and Milwaukee's Best Light you can buy with that sort of wad?

Macho Man DVD? That's the “I can dig that, sucka” of the week as far as I'm concerned. I have his rap album by the way. It's freakin' brilliant. Like an angrier Bob Dylan.

This chain symbolizes my spiritual enslavement to pop media. The pants symbolize my mid-life crisis.

Finally, Tori is still going strong on the train wreck of a show “I'm a Celebrity, Get me Out of Here.”   My God could a show be any worse, and yet somehow I find myself still watching it. It's hard not to watch though. It's on 36 times a week. Mostly, I watch it to see Tori, though I still think Sanjaya has this thing wrapped up. That kid is going places. Trump should get him on RAW. They could have a “hair off.” For Trump, that's literal.