1.Sep – { Wretched Saint } with George Clark III

BLOG SPOT

The worst WHOOPIN(S) my mother ever gave me in life….

The year: 1987. As most boys growing up in the early 80’s, I was a HUGE WWF fan. From Junkyard Dog to George “The Animal” Steele to Ricky “The Dragon” Steamboat; I was fascinated by their bravado and the super powers they ascertained through either magic, being born in Death Valley or even a snake bite. But this year was different. This was the debut of RAVISHING RICK RUDE.

He would stroll down to the ring, get on the microphone and say something like, “now all of you wimpy, lizard built men, shut your face and move out the way so your girlfriend can see my beautiful body”! He would then open his robe, put his hands on his head and had a hip/pelvic twirling dance that made all the women go completely ape shit. If you were lucky enough, he would invite one special lady to the ring to get a kiss; as soon as the kiss was planted, she was rendered helpless and would faint. Along with that, he also had a finishing move called the “Rude Awakening”. This move was fairly simple. You would be standing back-to-back, he would put your head on his shoulder and drop down, instantly knocking out his opponent. I wanted to be Ravishing Rick Rude.

Fast forward a few months, I am ten years old, its lunch/recess time, I am on the playground…so naturally my shirt is open and I am getting my “Rick Rude” on. I see Nathan conversing with my girlfriend at the time, Angela was her name. I’m thinking to myself, “is he is disrespecting the Rude One”? I walk over and tell him to get lost, he ignores me and turns around…putting him in the perfect position to receive a Rude Awakening, which he did. I put it on him and did my twirl without a care in the world. Little Nathan was in a neck brace by the end of recess and for the next 3 weeks.

I got in the car after school, momma didn’t say a word. We pulled up at home, she didn’t say a word. I went straight to my room, hoping, praying that maybe she forgot or let it go…wrong. I walked into the living room and my momma was doing the Ravishing Rick Rude dance with, at the time, possibly the worlds THICKEST belt. Pretty sure I got whooped off and on, from dawn to dust.

I hated Rick Rude after that. But I still loved my momma.