The Legendary Column

[Uncle Joe]

People often mistake me for a fun loving, kick swinging, pregnant lady hating guy. And the truth is, they're right. I don't drink, nor do I smoke, inject and/or snort drugs, so many people are quick to label me as Straight Edge, which I hate but the label is most appropos. I walk down the block of my building, and I always happen to run into someone I know, usually with something witty and nice to say:


"What's good Joe?" or "What's poppin daddy?", "You have a real nice fat bulge going on Joe", but do they really mean it?


In erstwhile, does "Great column Joe", "Funny, excellent stuff" or even the time tested "Good stuff, read you next time". . . do they really mean it? Or do they pity my soul as an arrogant CEO pities a Cambodian refugee as he smoke his 300 dollar Cuban cigar? This is something I've always wondered, but ponder no more I shall. Because this is it. You hypocrites validate my writings as great, funny, but render almost all others obsolete? Fuck you.


You know, I miss the days where people would lambaste my work, telling me all the errors and flaws in my column, and what I should do to improve or get the fuck out. So guess what? Im not done, Im starting; Im starting a new. Starting from this point forward, Im going to be a changed Joe, a new Joe, an improved Joe.


No more documents written in notepad, I shall now move it on up to pen and paper, and scanning them for the world (or this forum) to see. No longer shall I think outside the box, but use standard, time tested traditions of column writing that shall be so polished yet insomnia inducing, it will be sold in mass at your local Eckerds.


I also bow down to the greatest third tier charaCTER IN THE HISTORY OF mORTAL kOMBAT. I am so jealous over your prose, style, and command over being able to manipulate letters to form some of the greatest literature this side of Koonst, that I have been consuming my own anal emitions. That's right; the mighty Uncle Joe is so jealous of you that I have begun eating my own farts.


And with each torturous, tearful bite, I bid adieu to the Joe of old, open my door to the Joe of new and say

Hello, allow me to reintroduce myself, my name

Uncle Joe. It's so nice to meet you. It's been a long time, sorry I've been away so long, my name is

Uncle Joe. I never meant to leave you.

So I would like to not only brace in your excellence, but also thank you for kicking me in the rear with this:

People will say this isn't long enough or nothing to do about wrestling when in the SAME BREATHE will say Uncle Joes column about getting phone calls was much better?

That is wy that is my most ever excited past part that I would love to include in the present tense, for a better future. This is Uncle Joe, and goodbye, but not before I leave you with this.


And I'm Uncle Joe, and this is hello. Nice to meet you.


Today, we will go over the history of Bruno Sammartino, wrestling god and legend.



The Birth of a Legend.



Bruno Leopoldo Francesco Sammartino, more commonly known as Bruno Sammartino, was born on October 5th, 1935. Raised in the small town of Pizzferrato, Italy, Bruno was the youngest of seven children of who were brought up mostly by his dear mother Emilia: I say mostly because four of his brothers would go on to die during his childhood due to the widespread of polio. His upbringing was exceedingly difficult considering our current generations standards of living, but was unfortunately commonplace for thousands in Europe at the time. You see, a little known event known as World War 2 was going on, and his family were one of the countless homes who were afflicted by this secret war. On many a day, Emilia would have to plan, and hope, while she snuck into their Axis-occupied town, and get supplies and food for her kids to survive. Each Thursday was full of peril and sadness, as she would often hear the cries of her children pleading for her not to go.


Weeping on the inside but strong on the outside, Emilia told her children to have no worry or fear, because "God was on my side, and God will protect me as I protect my children." "Where's Bruno's father?" you ask, we'll get to him later. One Thursday, Emilia headed into town as usual, brown Versace overcoat and brown Armani sunglasses used to hide her and blend into the mass, she was swift and nimble as usual. But sadly, she was caught, as she had decided to pay with her Amex card. Happily for her, she was able to escape by hopping into a green pipe that was sticking out of the ground. She was also shot on a different occasion, which was an accident; while escaping her would be captors, she threw a brick at one of the guards, only to be shocked when a coin appeared over the brick. And during that relapse of her senses, one of the Nazi Officers threw a green shell at her, but she managed to get home with supplies intact.


Not being able to work any stable job or risk being foud out by the Nazis, Bruno and his siblings would work odd jobs around town for half a lira. His older sister and the one brother he had left would often work at steel plants, unloading trucks or working at the docks, because although they had to ration whatever food they were able to get, they were blessed with their mother's naturally large frame. Bruno, however, was not as lucky. The malnourishment caused by inconsistent eating habits forsaw Bruno struggling to get any work with his small, scrawny frame. He was forced to take up menial jobs, jobs such as lawn mowing, shoe shining and plumbing; jobs that required little strength but also gave little in terms of pay. But no matter how little the salary, no matter how much sweat was poured into a worthless job, Bruno, Wario and Luigi were all more than willing to do these jobs to help Emilia, and each other.


The three of them were inseparable, Doing everything imaginable together, Wario, Bruno and Luigi were often seen together doing chores around the house while Emilia was away earning money. Never once did they fight or even argue, as the smell of death and danger was a constant reminder of the importance of family and love. They would often play inside the house, as they would not chance being seen by Nazi soldiers. On the rare occasion they would go out, they have learned several tactics used to evade the guards; the most common one applied was a salutation of the Nazis, no matter how much it hurt them to do so; just run away; and in the scarcest occasion, they would carry a brown leaf in their pockets, that when touched, will make them grow a raccoon's tail and a white cape, and they'd be able to fly away after getting a bit of a running start. One sunny Friday afternoon, Emilia had an announcement that would not only shock the family, but change the landscape of wrestling forever.



The Relocation of a Legend


In 1951, after exchange for a few favors, Emilia was able to get her friend Benito Mussolini to fly them out of Italy on his private plane to the United States. Unfortunately for the clan, Emilia scared the man with talk of marriage and life together, that e opened the side door and the entire family were sucked into the vacuum, right in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Fortunately for them however, there was enough Grease in their hair for the original version and the two straight to dvd sequels, so they were able to use their heads as flotation devices until they got stateside. After they got the boot from Italy, they were able to hitchhike all the way to Pittsburgh, where Bruno's dad just so conveniently happened to live. Emilia worked at the local diner, while the kids would do some snooping and searching on the whereabouts of Mr. Sammartino. Nights were often cold and the children had to split whatever scraps the cook was willing to throw away to be able to feed her kids.


As she was about to take her lunch break, Emilia had seen Luigi burst into the diner, her voice high and agitating; after a few weeks of searching, the kids had finally found her baby daddy's whereabouts. They were able to find out that he had changed his last name, but his reputation and features stood intact. The kids had went into the nearest suburb and volunteered their services, in exchange for some cold hard cash. After a week of mowing lawns, washing loads of dirty dishes and making sauce, the kids had finally reached their goal; save up enough money to buy some good, new clothing for their first face to face meeting with papa. After a trip down to the local Men's Warehouse, the kids and Emilia set out and meeting him, after all these years. Every second passed meant that they were an inch closer to meeting their dad, and their stomachs were tied in knots with anticipation and nervousness. What were they going to say, worse, what was HE going to say?


And now it's time to find out. As they exit the taxi, they open their eyes in amazement and wonderment; a nice, gigantic white 2 story home, in a exclusive suburban community in New Jersey. Crowds of people were all around the place, sneering at Emilia and the children because of their less than fabulous wardrobe. As they made their way through the front awn, sticking out like a sore thumb, they finally made their way to the front door, which just so happened to be open. Their wonderment turned to frustration, as they seemingly got lost inside the palacious manor. Passing by different people, and going inside different rooms, the kids were growing anxious as they traveled all the way from Italy all the way here for what it seems like nothing. An hour and a half has went by and still nothing, with the Emilia on the verge of tapping out, until they finally found him.


Large round frame, hair waved over the balding scalp, mustache and a voice that can only be described as "mouth full of marshmallows", there he sat, stroking his grey cat gently and as calmly as the cool December afternoon. He finally turns around and gives a look as blank as an untouched piece of paper:


It'sa me, Emilia.

Emilia, it's been a long time, who'd knew that our fate's would be intertwined once again.

Aha, that'sa spicy meatballa.

How did you ever escape Europe in the hazardous state that the war has made the country?

When the moon hits your eye, like a bigga pizza pie, that's . . . amore.

I feel terrible for how everything has turned out, and under the circumstances we were forced to meet under.

What do you mean I'm funny?


While talking to Emilia, he noticed the children, shy and reserved, scared as if he were a monster, preparing to carry them away to the underworld. And then he noticed Bruno, and was intrigued by the curiosity and wear in the boys eyes; he's seen alot in his small time in this life, and it shows.

Emilia, I have to inform you that I have a different family now: a large, not always loyal, and sometimes dangerous family. I know you are here to reunite us, but I cannot do such a thing. It saddens me, but I think there is a small endeavor for which I can make it up to you and the children. See, it is the day of my daughter's wedding, and being such an occasion, I cannot turn away any favor no this day, the day of my daughter's wedding.

Without much thought, Emilia knew what the favor she had wanted.

Vito, I know what I was getting into when I decided to look for you. I wasn't looking for love, or a rekindling of what we once had; just hoped to offer a glance at what you've fathered. I know that you can't tell going by the look on my face, but I'm happy for you Vito. I'm happy that you have amassed this fortune, made it to this country without having to endure the perils of war, happy that you've got a new. . . family. You know, I've stolen for them; gotten shot for them, and I would do it all over again, because they're all that I have. I remember having to nurse poor Walugi after a bout with arthritis with just hot, wet blankets and leeches, Vito. Life isn't easy.

Is there a point to this speech?

No, not really. Just take the boy.

Which one.

The small one.

Ok, your wish is granted.

No take backs.


As they sat there waiting for their cab to take them back to Pittsburgh, Luigi, Wario and Bruno are playing for what could be the last time ever. When the car finally pulled up to the house, the children hugged and teared, and ran inside the car crying. Emilia walks up to an angry Bruno and hugs him, nearly squeezing all the life out of him, feeling the tear rolling down her left cheek.


Bruno, I know you're angry at me, but please don't be baby boy. I love you, and will always love you. I am doing this for you, because you're going to be something special, and you need more than what I can give you. Just know you will always have a family who will cheer you on no matter where you are. Ciao.


And with that, One Chapter in his life ends, but a second one is about to be read.


The Making of a Legend.


Life with the Corleone family wasn't easy for Bruno, as he had to adjust to living the poor life to the Miller High Life. Gone were the days of fighting other children for that quarter lira found on the floor; now all he had to do was call for the maid when he had the hunger. Absent are the days of biweekly showers down at the local trouth; he was now expected to shower at least every other day. He went from a scruffy kid in the rugged town of Pizzoferrato during the 2nd World War to a kid who had it all, whenever he wanted it, anyway he wanted it. But Bruno had no idea, nor any desire, to adjust to this new rich, posh lifestyle. Instead of forcing the made to beck on his every call, he could often be found helping her fold clothes, and after dinner was always eager to help her wash the dishes that lie in the wake of a big Italian dinner. His hardworking demeanor always caught the ire of most in the house, with barbs such as 'barbone', 'mendicante' and 'Travolta' thrown his way on a daily basis.


This industrious, unrelenting manor in which he carried himself caught the eye of his father. After watching Eileen sew up the hole in his skirt, Bruno was informed that his father was in the den, awaiting his arrival. Walking into the room, Bruno notices that his father is alone in the chair, with the light as dim as a blonde, in the same black suit, stroking the same grey cat.


Bruno my son, sit please. When you first came into this house, I thought you were just a simple peasant: a stupid gavone for which the rest of the family would merely just snicker at. But I am surprised, greatly surprised. The way you refuse to have anything handed to you, how hard you work in a house of privilege has filled me with great, immeasurable joy. You know, I may not always be around, but I am always watching my son.

Even when I shower?

I am always watching my son. You remind me of me, back when I was at such a young tender age. See, we may be at two different spectrums of life at this moment, but I grew up just like you Bruno; poor as dirt, not having much means, forced to fight and scrap to get by and survive. But it was at this point where I decided that I no longer wanted to work hard and have nothing; I wanted- no I NEEDED to work hard and receive something for my blood, my sweat, my tears. Then I started to make friends, make enemies and watch them, and here I am. At this juncture in my existence, my hard work has provided for everything for me and my family for generations to come, but at what price? My children, my lovely dear children, they know nothing. They do not have any idea what it is like to sweat for an honest day's pay; nor do they know what it is like to go an hour without being waited on hand and foot, much less days. See, I love my children, I do with the utmost of my being, but none of them are fit to run my empire. This is what I build my fortune upon, people and the law fear and respect me, they loathe me but respect me Bruno; this is the life I know . . . this is my LEGACY. On the day that I pass, my greatest desire is to look down from the heaven's above, or up from the hell that awaits, and see my own flesh and blood continuing the and bringing pride to the Corleone name. My heart was filled to the brim with self pity and sadness because I have not given life to anyone of my offspring the instinct I have, until now.

Bruno, I will now make you an offer you cannot refuse.I want you to train under me, to teach you the mobster way: I want you to become my successor, to one day run the Corleone crime syndicate. What do you say?

I am honored Mr. Brando.

It's Corleone, and there is no need to be formal, you can call me father, or dad.

Oh sorry, Mr. Corleone, but I cannot and shall not refer to you by ay other name. Because although you may have plowed my mother and have your seeds explode in her ovaries, you are not my father. My mother is my mother, and my mother is my father. I am sorry Mr. Corleone, but I cannot and shall not accept your offer.

So what do you plan on doing with your life then? What is going to be your legacy?

I plan to be the greasiest Italian the world was ever seen, and maybe wrestle professionally part time.

While I am dissapointed in your answer, to say that I am angry would be a false statement to make. I am swelling with pride that you won't have a damn thing handed to you, and you remind me of myself now more-so than ever. I know people who owe me many a favor, so head here, they will know I sent you. And my son?

Yes?

Good luck.

The very next day, Bruno packed his belongings and headed to the place were his father had directed him to go. He bids adieu to Ms. Eileen and climbs into the taxi and heads off into the distance.

Who will run the family when I am gone? Who is going to be my pupil? Eh, whatever, I'll see if DeNiro or Pacino are free.






The ______ of a Legend.



His journey has taken him to North Carolina, home of the. . . Home of the. . . well he's in North Carolina. After waiting with his luggage for 3 hours, he would come to meet up with the man he was going to sack up with, and ultimately, his tutor; Pedro Morales. Asking what a Mexican was doing down in North Carolina, Pete kindly reminded Bruno that he was of Puerto Rican descent, not Mexican, to which Bruno replied "same thing really". For the first few days, Pete and Bruno would basically just hang out, getting to know each other well, get a feel for each other, for Bruno wanted to see what kind of man he would be training. After eating some pasteles for dinner, Pedro alerted Bruno to the fact that his training will start first thing the next day. Being as giddy as a schoolboy before his first day of class, Sammartino could barely sleep, eager to take the trials and see what awaited im the next day. The time was 5:15 as Bruno finally fell asleep.


And it was 5:30 that Pedro decided to wake his new apprentice up. Blasting Daddy Yankee on his Bose speakers, Bruno was nearly scared to death as he saw Bruno dancing the basic Salsa steps in the hallway corridor. B then asked P what was on the day's agenda, Pete told him to mow the lawn outback, and then take the timber wood and place them in the safe next to the fireplace. After he was finished with that, he had Bruno clean his pool with nothing but a toothbrush and elbow grease. And some Listolin. It took him nearly five hours of hard grueling work, but Bruno managed to leave that pool spotless and as clean as it could possibly be. He was then told that his last task was to simply do the laundry and fold them. It was 7 pm, and a tired and weary Bruno walked into the house, and Pedro screamed that "diner was ready" and Bruno was elated but so exhausted, so he simply just slumped into a chair and ate.


Feeling about as tired as a one legged man in an ass kicking contest, Bruno struggled to have even the slightest bit of conversation over their dinner.


Wow, you look really tired holmes.

I ama so, so beat my friend. My back hurts ina bout seven different places and I ache in places I never knew existed before.

Yeah essay, maybe you should go and get some rest, eh. It's not so good for you to be up the way you're feeling.

Before I do, I'm curious as to what the rigorous training did for me today? What life lessons did it instill in me Pedro? What muscles was I working out?

Training; que training? Oh shit, my bad vato. Tomorrow we start the training for sure.

Ok my friend, I'll be heading up to bed now to rest my aching body. I shall see you at dawn.

Orale.


Next morning, Bruno had awaken from is slumber, but noticed something was off. He looked around for Mr. Morales all over the home, and when he got to the living quarters, he noticed a piece of paper on the desk.

Meet me at the Zoo over on Franklin Street. Viva La Raza

- Pedro.

Getting out of the car, Pedro was seen waving at Bruno, standing near the Kangaroo cage.


Hey Bruno, did you get any good sleep? How are you feeling?

I'ma feeling strong my friend. Why are we here?

Well my friend, when I look into your eyes, I see a bit of mascara, but what else do I see? I see the heart of a champion, the soul of a winner, the instincts of an animal. But your instincts are raw, not yet ripe. So I was able to convince the zoo manager to let you wrestle a bit of the creatures here at the zoo in order to help you cultivate your inner animal.


So Pedro opened the cage and out came the kangaroo. There went Buno's jaw, as the kangaroo repeatedly and unmercifully beat the living shit out of Bruno. Pedro threw in the white flag, and took him home. As he was helping him bandage up is wounds, Bruno said he wanted another crack at Jack tomorrow, to which Pedro was amazed and said sure. Next day arrives, and again they meet at the zoo, and once again Pedro opens the cage door. The Kangaroo stood there, with a grin that could only be described as Australian. So there they are, meandering around each other, waiting for the other to make it's first move. The Aussie decides to move in for the kill, swings and misses. Bruno lunges for the marsupials foot and proceeds to launch a 8 inch blade deep into the foot of the creature. As the Aussie let's out cries of help and pain, Pedro raises Bruno's hand in victory. But this was just the start; He would move up from kangaroos up to chimpanzees, and even gorillas, bears and tigers oh my.



The First Appearance of a Legend.



After a year of rigorous training, Bruno and Pedro both felt that he was ready for his first ever bout. His opponent? The Legendary Strawberry Tits LaLoo. After the introduction (for what it's worth, Strawberry came out to Beethoven's 7th Orchestra Symphony, while Bruno came out to Jay-Z's Big Pimpin') for both men, things began to go underway. Being the ultimate grappler, Strawberry saw Bruno as no challenge, and merely shrugged him off. When he went for the time tested collar and elbow tie up, Bruno forcefully threw LaLoo across the ring, sending him the message that this wasn't going to be an easy fight. They went once again for an elbow and collar tie up, to which Bruno once again tried to over muscle him. Strawberry then used is expert technical abilities to counter his power, and do a Tiger Express leg trip. Strawberry then picked up hsi opponent and started delivering punch after punch, eventually landing him into the corner. He then put Bruno's head to the ropes and started pulling down, to which the ref told him to release the hold since it was an obvious illegal move. The referee then started making the five count, and Strawberry's retort was simply "I have til' 5 ref!". With his attention diverted, Bruno snuck in a headbutt, and immediately went for a laying sleeper hold once Strawberry was on the mat.


After 45 grueling minutes, Bruno managed to deliver a Full Nelson Slam, he signaled with a point to the sky that he was heading to the top. With his heart beating and shaking ever so fast, Bruno headed to the top, wondering if this high risk manevuer was worth his life. He saw all the of the cheering men and women, mostly the kids, who were doing the Bru-NOOOOO chant, and he decided to go for it. If he delivers this move, he will probably die. HE sets his feet, waits for Strawberry to turn around and lunges forward.


And then fade to black.


Fuck I'm sorry, I just finished watching the Wrestler. Strawberry saw Bruno coming and countered his high cross body into a roll up for the win. They shook hands afterward and a Legend helped make another. Bruno would go on to wrestle all over the world, and held the WWF title for like 20 years or some shit. The rest, as they say, is history.

Did you Sammarti-know?

- Bruno wrestled his entire career with a badly damaged kidney? During his stints performing with the animals, he suffered very bad infections due to the animals not being vaccined, combined with the various bites and scratches he would receive.

- He was born with a third leg? Although very minuscule, Bruno was indeed born with a third leg, tough it was for aesthetic reasons as it was never proven to be of any use to him.

- Was also the third longest reigning champ in ROH history?

- Thinks Ric Flair is a piece of shit? Was reportedly snubbed by the Nature Boy at a HOF Induction Ceremony held in 2007.

- Corn Holed Gorilla Monsoon while holding his head under water?

- Loves him some Kurt Angle?

- Holds the Guinness World Record for largest bowel movement in North America at 215 oz.



Thank you for reading, good night, and godspeed.

[Martin Riggs]

Okay, first of all, fuck you! If i think your column is really good, and that i want you to know i'll read you next time, it's my god given right to say such a thing!

Second, there were a few spelling mistakes. Schoolboy Error. Sort it out, yeah?

Third? This was funny as shit. And shit is funny, if you're wondering. Wonderful transitions through different styles and parodies.

However, i don't think everything you said was entirely true, was it?

[Lazyking]

Wow, Flat out awesome and a new spin on bruno I loved samm facts. I thought this was gonna be a history col. but this was utter awesomeness.

COTM

ps.- Is the flair fact true?

[cicero]

Normally I might be all like "ack! so long" yet though, as you know I felt that way in the begining as time went on the column only seemed to get better and more enjoyable. Probably should have proof read it a few more times though as there were a few mistakes and odd turns of phrase. Regradless however this remained a higly engaging three act tale.


So now you know you can do it Joe, but will you keep doing so?




Also, though I've already mentioned it before, the introducory column was excellent, if a little shitty towards the end. Though-provoking as they say.

[Tony Starx]

Jesus man, I was on a column reading spree earlier, and I had to split this into two Joe. Now that I finally finished this, I can leave proper feedback. The intro was well done, with the finished leaving a little more to be desired. I did enjoy the overall Italian theme overall (Super Mario, It's Amore, the speech mannerisms, Godfather references). My favorite part was the correlation between Pedro telling Bruno he was not Mexican, then proceeding to talk like some cholo from Cali for the rest of the column. Good to see you back to form. Oh and you're gay.

[Andy_Savana]

In the summer this is a good job.

If it weren't the summer and all the sheepish cunt nuggets of said summer were posting after legit good feedback then they'd called this FANTASTIC!

What do I think?

Well it is all in the name, Joe. Follow the name.

[Benjamin Button]

You certainly brought that to life. I learned some things, and I could hear Bruno's voice in the dialogue.

[Andy]

I'm glad Joe didn't leave; he brings something different and refreshing to the CF. This wasn't as grammatically sound as your previous, but that's to be expected because it was longer. I lost interest somewhere in the middle, but I felt it recovered near the end. All in all, good work.

By the way, there were some big LOL moments.

[Scott Uberman]

Good stuff.

[SUPERFAN!]

Vintage Uncle Joe!!

Damn Joe. This was fucking awesome. You struck back at all the naysayers and reminded us all of your clout. Fucking funny as shit stuff all the way through. Can't wait for the next joint!

[MissouriDragon]

Great column, Joe.

Funny, excellent stuff.

That's a nice bulge you've got going on there, too [/Doc F**k]

I basically only leave feedback to let you know I read it. I could nitpick your grammar on the next one if you'd like, though.

Sincerely,

MissouriDragon

P.S.

[BeyondKnight]

Joe,

My only complaint with the column is that for the next couple weeks we will be forced to wade through the shallow imitations that the buzz your work creates is sure to inspire.

I hope that everyone takes notice that aside from the Itallian stereotypes, pithy pop culture references, and smarmy one-liners is a highly focused and crafted narrative, absurd as the plot may be. Typos aside, this is creativity at it's highest, and probably the most excellent way to respond to critcism, be it actual or perceived.

The parody of the "standard" column format was icing on the cake. So where does the New Joe go from here?

~BK

[Uncle Joe]

Originally Posted by JohnnyBoomerang

Okay, first of all, fuck you! If i think your column is really good, and that i want you to know i'll read you next time, it's my god given right to say such a thing!

Second, there were a few spelling mistakes. Schoolboy Error. Sort it out, yeah?

Third? This was funny as shit. And shit is funny, if you're wondering. Wonderful transitions through different styles and parodies.

However, i don't think everything you said was entirely true, was it?

No, fuck you. And no it was.

Originally Posted by Lazyking

Wow, Flat out awesome and a new spin on bruno I loved samm facts. I thought this was gonna be a history col. but this was utter awesomeness.

COTM

ps.- Is the flair fact true?

Yes very true, he's a bitch of huge proportions. And whas cotm?

Originally Posted by cicero

Normally I might be all like "ack! so long" yet though, as you know I felt that way in the begining as time went on the column only seemed to get better and more enjoyable. Probably should have proof read it a few more times though as there were a few mistakes and odd turns of phrase. Regradless however this remained a higly engaging three act tale.


So now you know you can do it Joe, but will you keep doing so?




Also, though I've already mentioned it before, the introducory column was excellent, if a little shitty towards the end. Though-provoking as they say.

Ty kindly for the feed. Funny shit is, I spellchecked right before I posted it, and I missed a few words.

Originally Posted by Tony Starx

Jesus man, I was on a column reading spree earlier, and I had to split this into two Joe. Now that I finally finished this, I can leave proper feedback. The intro was well done, with the finished leaving a little more to be desired. I did enjoy the overall Italian theme overall (Super Mario, It's Amore, the speech mannerisms, Godfather references). My favorite part was the correlation between Pedro telling Bruno he was not Mexican, then proceeding to talk like some cholo from Cali for the rest of the column. Good to see you back to form. Oh and you're gay.

Your mother.

Originally Posted by Andy_Savana

In the summer this is a good job.

If it weren't the summer and all the sheepish cunt nuggets of said summer were posting after legit good feedback then they'd called this FANTASTIC!

What do I think?

Well it is all in the name, Joe. Follow the name.

What?

Originally Posted by Benjamin Button

You certainly brought that to life. I learned some things, and I could hear Bruno's voice in the dialogue.

What did he sound like?

Originally Posted by Andy

I'm glad Joe didn't leave; he brings something different and refreshing to the CF. This wasn't as grammatically sound as your previous, but that's to be expected because it was longer. I lost interest somewhere in the middle, but I felt it recovered near the end. All in all, good work.

By the way, there were some big LOL moments.

Sorry to hear you ost interest. At least you finished it.

Originally Posted by Scott Uberman

Good stuff.

yay

Originally Posted by SUPERFAN!

Vintage Uncle Joe!!

Damn Joe. This was fucking awesome. You struck back at all the naysayers and reminded us all of your clout. Fucking funny as shit stuff all the way through. Can't wait for the next joint!

Good to see I impressed you Supes. Write me a column on Bob Orton.

Originally Posted by MissouriDragon

Great column, Joe.

Funny, excellent stuff.

That's a nice bulge you've got going on there, too [/Doc F**k]

I basically only leave feedback to let you know I read it. I could nitpick your grammar on the next one if you'd like, though.

Sincerely,

MissouriDragon

P.S.

HA!

Originally Posted by BeyondKnight

Joe,

My only complaint with the column is that for the next couple weeks we will be forced to wade through the shallow imitations that the buzz your work creates is sure to inspire.

I hope that everyone takes notice that aside from the Itallian stereotypes, pithy pop culture references, and smarmy one-liners is a highly focused and crafted narrative, absurd as the plot may be. Typos aside, this is creativity at it's highest, and probably the most excellent way to respond to critcism, be it actual or perceived.

The parody of the "standard" column format was icing on the cake. So where does the New Joe go from here?

~BK

Gracis for the kind words BK. Imitations? Shit, no one really reads this crap where do I go? I have no idea, got directions?

[Slap]

what a pile of shit

first you rip these *BANNED* for kissing your ass no matter how garbage you know the column you typed up is, then you turn around and lick their taint for doing just that.

you maybe straight edge, joe.....

....but you're also a POSER

Edit: had to make an edit up there, as within 3 seconds of me hitting the reply button I got scolded. Apparently I'm eyeballed 24/7 around here...

[Super Chrisss]

You more or less turned one of my last columns into an introduction. Rather than hate you, I respect you, and also fear you...

This may have been long, but it was good. Those random facts at the end had me going "REALLY?" and checking Wikipedia for accuracy.

[Uncle Joe]

Originally Posted by Slap

what a pile of shit

first you rip these *BANNED* for kissing your ass no matter how garbage you know the column you typed up is, then you turn around and lick their taint for doing just that.

you maybe straight edge, joe.....

....but you're also a POSER

Edit: had to make an edit up there, as within 3 seconds of me hitting the reply button I got scolded. Apparently I'm eyeballed 24/7 around here...

You fill me with a joy that has not been seen since the days of Churchill spitting in the face of women all over the UK. I am glad I served as your apprentice, under your leadership.

Originally Posted by Super Chrisss

You more or less turned one of my last columns into an introduction. Rather than hate you, I respect you, and also fear you...

This may have been long, but it was good. Those random facts at the end had me going "REALLY?" and checking Wikipedia for accuracy.

Fear me? LOL, you're a funny man. Some of them were true though. LOL@checking Wikipedia for facts.

[Prince-Jigsaw]

I love the Eminem reference. Best part of this column, the rest sucked.

I'm ofcourse kidding.

[Freeman]

Yeah funny as shit. The lenghth just ain't an issue when you bust out something as entertaining as this.

Nice stuff, keep it up Mr Joe.

[Roger Murtaugh]

Originally Posted by Joe

Because although you may have plowed my mother and have your seeds explode in her ovaries, you are not my father.

Line of the column for me.

Going in to this I got to say I was a bit intimidated by the length, but like any good whore would I was determined to conquer this beast and in the end found it quite pleasurable. Though I ain't gonna shit right for a week.



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