Saturday Night Slam Masters

Saturday Night


Wrestling’s just a name

For another kind of game

It’s a sport without shame

And even though they call it lame

I speak softly into the microphone

And my tone grows louder

And I start rhyming

With the stress on every third

… Syllable

My hair is pink!!!

… I scream at my mother

Who is my best friend actually

And this is the funny part:

I don’t even know why I did it

My sister gave me the bottle and I put a little… little… little in my hand….

Then suddenly…. !!!! !!!! !!!!

I’m a wrestler on the stage!

Lights flashing




Tubular bells


Everybody been havin’ em

Where I’m from the schools got rules

And the rules got on the wrong bus and headed to the states

One last cookie on the tray

I’m satay

Before the match…

And there’s the music




Wind chimes out my backdoor.

I’m a wrestler with a cause

Or at least… I was.

The end result?


“There is no end but death”

A line a try to pass off like it’s Shakespeare

And say, “Oh, yeah, I think that’s from King Lear

When really it’s The Cure.

I step into the ring

And I haven’t learned a thing

Because as soon as I get swinging

I get pinned.




And I’m out.

Metaphorically, physically, singularly out.

And that’s the end.

Or is it?

Continue, 10 seconds

9 seconds

8 seconds

Do I care?

Do I give a fucking SHIT?

I do….

Pink hair

I care