Crocker! Mr. McMahon Addresses The Crocker Universe, Beyonce Spells NXT, and Come on, Jolene, We Didn't Come Here To Look At The Justin Biebers

Crocker! Mr. McMahon Addresses The Crocker Universe, Beyonce Spells NXT, and Come on, Jolene, We Didn't Come Here To Look At The Justin Biebers

Almost every time I go to Wal-Mart, I hear something worth repeating. One time I heard some lady say to her son, “That's a good deal for a Waltons' DVD. If you like the Waltons. I never cared for them myself.” Everything about that conversation seemed odd to me. Why would a lady even mention a DVD that she has no interest in? Is it still a good deal if you don't like the Waltons? Maybe this lady commented on everything in the store. “Red yarn for two cents a foot ain't bad if you like red yard. I prefer green.” “I'd pay 5.98 for a twelve pack of Diet Coke. If'n I weren't a Pepsi drinker.” Notice how in my last example she suddenly became a hillbilly. That always happens in my final examples.

Yesterday, I heard one of the best in awhile. I don't know who this lady was or who she was talking to, but she was just standing there in the aisle when she blurted, “Come on, Jolene, we didn't come here to look at the Justin Biebers.”

I know you came here to look at the Justin Biebers.

What does that have to do with wrestling, you ask? Justin Biebers.

Raw had its 900^th episode, and I had my 900^th White Castle. I'd say it's been a good week for both me and Vince McMahon. We deserve respect. How many White Castles have you eaten? That's what I thought. Because we're men of high numbers, and deserve respect, Vince sent me a personal email to pass along to my readers.

Dear Readers of Crocker! Jesus, is that even a real name? What's with the exclamation mark? Mmm, maybe I could sell that. Hunter, are you getting all of this down? Good, good. Why is everyone jumping on the 900^th episode of RAW? It's 900 freakin' episodes, man!. It's the longest running, episodic, oiled up men in tight shorts show that has ever been on the air since Bonanza. If I say the 900^th show is special, then you better believe it's damn well special. If you don't like it, take a number in line for the kiss my ass club. No, not you Hunter...get away from my ass. Linda! Linda!

To continue, they don't just hand out 900 episodes you know. You've got to be the greatest show since M*A*S*H. Hunter, why did you put those little stars in there? I may not know much, but I know that's not how you spell mash. It's spelled just like the potatoes. I love me some of them potatoes. The point is, people think we talked to much on the episode. They think that most of the talk was boring. Well, screw you. It's hard to fill three hours—especially after 900 shows. You just sort of run out of things to talk about after awhile. Plus, who wants to sit through three hours of actual wrestling matches? Not me. Not Hunter. Only a geekazoid would want to do that. Now Hunter, get in the kitchen and fix Pappy a turkey pot pie.

There you have it. I'm just passing it along.

The inspiration for Nexus.

Are you trying to tell me that Low-Ki won this season's NXT? When did we even start another season of NXT? What the hell is NXT? Like Beyonce says, if you want to spell next put an “e” in it. In any event, Low-Ki, or whatever his name is now, was wrestling on TNA twenty years ago. He's a ringer, people, a ringer! Seriously, I have no idea how the hell NXT works. I get my supplemental wrestling fix by occasionally catching Jericho on VH1. Also, Jimmy Snuka comes by my house sometimes just to shoot the shit. That's okay, but I hate it when he's drunk and brings a coconut with him. I've told him a hundred times that I don't want to hit him in the head with it, but he still asks. It's the way he leers at me when while asking that really creeps me out.

All right. Crocker out. Goodnight all. Goodnight HHH boy.