Matthew Damascus kills Bladejob dead with a single stroke. Plus, aesthetic lamentations for a wrestler? Que?

Matthew Damascus shakes his head and mutters dark curses against the phony gay wedding angle on Smackdown, and then marks out over the Axl Rose comeback.

Is that Bladejob? Where did you come from? How about that WWE? How about that “HLA”?

An oddly optimistic look at the (timely) mainstream crossover appeal of the Rock, courtesy of “Bladejob”. Yes, yes, but The Mummy Returns is still a piece of shit!

The by-no-means definitive guide to centering your whole April 1st around, yes, Wrestlemaniaaaaaaa! A “Bladejob” exclusive.

Perhaps Ziggy could play guitar, but there were many things he could never dream of doing. Like wrestle, for instance. A mostly, really, probably true Bladejob investigation on Akira Hokuto.

Matthew Damascus dusts off Bladejob and takes it for a trawl around the Web to find the ultimate Wrestling canon. Michiku Pro! High School Reunions! Raven Chat Rooms! There is a theme somewhere!

Matthew Damascus returns to devote Bladejob entirely to the most fearsome woman in wrestling EVER– spiked blue hair, capes, bound feet, Duran Duran makeup, and a brutal guillotine legdrop– it has to be Bull Nakano.

Bladejob bites the hand that feeds it and watches the blood flow with a look at vampires and wrestling. Not what you’d expect. And more effusive praise for Steve Corino. Some would call it bad timing…

The Sandman is a liability for ECW and he should be cut loose, says Bladejob. Avert your eyes from the naked drunk wrestlers in the ring, please. Trauma of the highest degree when ECW comes to Pensacola.

Bladejob delivers the insanity and rabble-rousing that can only come through watching too much wrestling in search of profound answers and art.