Hello, hello, wrestling fans! I am The Awkward Reviewer. You may remember me from the old EWF message board (not really old because it was thriving just a month ago), which are not around anymore because Anonymous cease and desisted our anuses. If not...hey, it's nice to indulge in your presence!

I hope we can become acquainted with each other as I attempt to be the first person to partake in weekly, yes WEEKLY reviews of the Equestrian Wrestling Federation. That is Lunacy and Sublime. Duh.

First, though, some BACKSTORY. Yeah, that's always fun, running down how I got to this stage in my life. I was supposed to be something...b-but here I am now, reviewing….pro wrestling. The FUCK happened?

Don't get me wrong...I'm stoked about all this….really, I am, but...the sting of my parents' text messages every day ever since I told them of my soon to be "passion" make me feel like I am making a catastrophic mistake.

One text my mother sent me, pretty much sums up why I'm so worried about this current endeavor. It reads: "You disgust me." Very charming my mother is. A text from my old man follows. It reads: "I thought you wanted to be a sports analyst….soooo...what went wrong?" I don't know, pops. I just don't know.

Well what do parents know? This is why being an adult is so great. I am no longer bounded by their asinine anchors, nor their pleas for an uncorrupted child. No, instead I can nude dance to "I'm All About That Bass" by Meghan Trainor around my small apartment in downtown Chicago and not care if mother warns me to stop so Mrs. Plambly doesn't go blind from my shiny phallus.

It's funny, because my father was the one who "corrupted" me. I will not give out my age, but I am below the age of 35, and that was how many years ago wrestling was banned from the United States. That shithead Carter probably hated gays or something. I don't know.

Anyway, before I was born, ever since my father was a little tike, he and his dad would never miss WWF on TV. Saturday Night's Main Event, Wrestlemania, all that jazz. By the time I was born, wrestling was gone and my dad had lost all of his hair as a result.

Fast forward to July last year, and news starts spreading that wrestling is coming BACK. My dad is jizzing his pants like kamikaze on D-Day, and I'm pretty excited, having watched all the pirated old WWF shows that my dad probably got from the Swedes, which have adopted the art of wrestling as their own ever since it got banned here in the states. Fucking Swiss shits. I guess they were nice giving father back his grapple porn, though. Thanks, Sweden.

But yeah. I watched old wrestle-ras with my dad for hours on end every day, and I thought it was the coolest thing. No tape ever got old, but of course we would gladly take some new stuff, too. So to find out that wrestling was returning with a big dick made...well OUR dicks big.

So we watch the first episode of Lunacy, and my dad storms out of the living room as soon as it ends. I was on the edge of my seat, but apparently he never found his seat. I check on him, wondering if he needs more nacho cheese Dorito, because who wouldn't? They are a gift from the gods.

Long story short, he says E Dub Eff is shit and leaves me to silence and my phone going nuts from Tweets on Twitter. I check and realize that Garble and Zotl were right. EWF is trending on Twitter. I thought they were bullshitting me the whole episode.

Coincidentally I find the EWF message board the next day and tell the dwellers of the internet of my dad's meltdown. Of course, it's the internet, and they shit on me and MY PEEPHOLE. I turn off my comp and confront my dad, seeing as how he never gave me a concrete reason as to why he doesn't like this new era of wrestling.

Wanna know what his answer was? "It's different" he says. Well, no shit. I think he's a sexist or something, because in the old days there weren't any women wrestlers, and if there were they were rubbing clits in the background, because I sure didn't see them. So there's over 20 women on the show and he says "fuck this I can just watch lesbian porn." I think he was too, because I heard him grunting when I knocked on the door and there was a dubious white stain by where his laptop is. I bet he thinks I think it was just Prairie Farms BUT I AIN'T NO STIFFLER.

So yeah, dad hasn't watched EWF since, and he vows he never will. I've argued with him so much about this, because truthfully, the EWF is LIGHTYEARS better than old school rassle-wres. I mean, I still enjoyed it, but it was basically nothing but bodyslams, and everyone was all big and shit, since drug tests weren't a thing back then. It looked cool, but there wasn't much in the way of substance.

But the EWF...MAN. There are a lot of women, of course, and they take care of their bodies and are very sexy and SHIT, but so do the men, too! There's Bulk Biceps, but I think he's just a beast that blares T-Pain in his earbuds as he works out and has an extensive workout routine.

And the EWF doesn't rely on BODYSLAMS to excite the crowd. And when they do, these 120 pound women or 220 pound men make it look WAY cooler than these old farts from the 70's who are probably all dead by now.

But...I can't judge, really. It's whatever you're into. My dad isn't big on change, and when you take women away from the kitchen and put them in a 20 by 20 foot square he throws a tantrum. But I'm not going to change his mind. He can watch his 144p YouTube quality Cir Rialf vs Nra Nosredna, and I'll watch my crisp Lightning Dust vs Rarity match every week and that'll be MY porn. Nobody can take it away from me, either, because it's here to STAY.

Since it's here to stay, I figured I'd review the damn thing. I don't give a sex if my own father despises me, I AM A GROWN BILLY AND GROWN BILLY WILL CREATE WORDS.

Of course, since I watched EWF, I figured I'd immediately dive right into the wrestling community. Lemme tell ya, WORST mistake of my life. Everyone is a douchebag and argues about everything. Fuck the politic and religion debates on YouTube videos...wrestling fans go BALLS DEEP to defend something that is scripted and will not change no matter how much they stroke it.

Of course, since I joined them, I am now talking like the bastards. The word "buried" makes up about 85 percent of my daily vocabulary nowadays. It makes me sick, but then again, so does Hamburger Helper, so that's cool.

I am now a giant shitslurp in real life, and I am MUCH more cynical than I was before. So don't expect my reviews to be as mature and child-friendly as they were on the message board. I've got the ICW smark running through my veins, and blood transfusions cost a lot so I have to take my deficiencies with a grain of salt and work past them.

The EWF isn't perfect, but it's pretty damn close. It is my waifu and I will nurture it with nothing but Nutella and other love substances. These reviews are my tribute to the greatest entertainment on TV. Fuck Niptuck and fuck Rocko's Modern Life. The EWF makes me proud to be a wrestling fan, despite all the bullshit I've encountered thus far. I am fully committed to being the best reviewer I can be. Just like sex. I may be rough around the edges at times, but ultimately, I'm gonna satisfy you and you're gonna have my hell-spawn. So congrats. Also like sex, I'm not going to go easy on the EWF. If something pisses me off, I will talk about it with intense vigor. Like AIDS. It is going to hurt real bad and then you will die.

My first review will be up soon. On there, I will announce my reviewing style and my rating system. No, it's NOT going to be a 5 star scale. Those are overdone and anyone that does them will be acupunctured and black bile will ooze out of their pricked pores. Have a nice day!