Post by Olivia R. Adler on Jan 19, 2020 22:56:40 GMT -5
olivedoesstuff is live: Late Night Livestream AMA
Olivia Adler, rosy-cheeked and red-nosed, waits on the edge of the sidewalk in front of a Lower East Side tenement, her pale skin popping out among in the faint glow of streetlights. Smiling at her cell-phone camera, she waves for the audience, before brushing a lock of hair out of her face.
"Good mo-orning, Internet!" she chirps, beaming. "And welcome back to my meme page.
"I am currently waiting for my uber — rough night, long story, might tell later — and it's kinda lonely out here, y'know?"
Cue an exaggerated frown.
"And I thought, you guys might want to keep me company! Now, if this is your first time stumbling onto my channel, first let me say go to bed. Second, congratulations on finding some of the best content on this godforsaken website. And if you're a regular, then you might be wondering where the hell I've been as of late.
"I know, I know, I've been slacking on the uploads for the past like, six weeks now?" she adds, giggling nervously. "It's fine though, nothing's wrong. Don't Marina Joyce me or anything, y'know? It's just this whole being a pro-wrestler thing. It's a hell of a lot more time consuming than I thought it was going to be.
"But we're on the precipice of something there, right? I don't know how many of you watching actually follow Action Wrestling and/or have any context for anything I'm saying right now. All you need to know is that we. are. killing it, hons! It's like the whole tag division runs through us right now. Like, even though we're like, second on the 'official' tag rankings or whatever, it's us.
"Not to sound too arrogant or anything, but I think they booked me alone this week because they're nervous A-F about Cass and I running through the backlog of bizarre pairings they got on the leaderboards. They def don't want us up against FinDom or whatever their dumb pornographic team name is this soon into our careers. Probably some archaic bullshit about paying dues or whatever. But it's like, if you know you know and they know.
"Cass and I keep getting thrown against these weird, rando types. Like we're a cleanup crew or a litmus test or something and if that could stop sometime soon that'd be much appreciated. I don't know if anyone in upper management actually watches our content but I'm sure they have an intern monitoring the feeds.
"Like the guy I was booked against this week to face alone. Stepan Malikov. Le epic microwave man. I'm not kidding. That's his thing. He sells microwaves and fights people. I don't even know how I'd describe it."
Olive pinches the bridge of her nose.
"We're all like, incredibly online here, right? Cool, cool. Malikov's whole shtick reeks of desperation. He so wants to go viral. It's so out there and random that it would've totally slayed in the early 2010s. It's almost kind of charming in that throwback sense. But then you realize that it isn't a throwback. It's twenty-freaking-twenty and he's doing this. This has to be what it feels like to watch the Lazer Collection now without any nostalgic connection to it. It's just, kinda dumb.
"Adler Tweens, I finally get it.
"It's just bizarre is all. I look at him and the Party Bros and the godforsaken Talent Enhancers and I can't help but think they still see us as a sideshow. First impressions, I guess. Maybe we should've thought that through a little better. Screw it, we're here, and they can't fully deny us. Especially not after Monday. If we gotta keep teaching them this lesson, we will."
A beat as Olive ponders what she just said, then bursts out laughing.
"Tough talk still isn't my strong suit, huh? Anyway, anyone have questions?"
She scrolls through the live chat.
"jakepauler69 asks: post fee— oh, god fuc—"
Olivia Adler, rosy-cheeked and red-nosed, waits on the edge of the sidewalk in front of a Lower East Side tenement, her pale skin popping out among in the faint glow of streetlights. Smiling at her cell-phone camera, she waves for the audience, before brushing a lock of hair out of her face.
"Good mo-orning, Internet!" she chirps, beaming. "And welcome back to my meme page.
"I am currently waiting for my uber — rough night, long story, might tell later — and it's kinda lonely out here, y'know?"
Cue an exaggerated frown.
"And I thought, you guys might want to keep me company! Now, if this is your first time stumbling onto my channel, first let me say go to bed. Second, congratulations on finding some of the best content on this godforsaken website. And if you're a regular, then you might be wondering where the hell I've been as of late.
"I know, I know, I've been slacking on the uploads for the past like, six weeks now?" she adds, giggling nervously. "It's fine though, nothing's wrong. Don't Marina Joyce me or anything, y'know? It's just this whole being a pro-wrestler thing. It's a hell of a lot more time consuming than I thought it was going to be.
"But we're on the precipice of something there, right? I don't know how many of you watching actually follow Action Wrestling and/or have any context for anything I'm saying right now. All you need to know is that we. are. killing it, hons! It's like the whole tag division runs through us right now. Like, even though we're like, second on the 'official' tag rankings or whatever, it's us.
"Not to sound too arrogant or anything, but I think they booked me alone this week because they're nervous A-F about Cass and I running through the backlog of bizarre pairings they got on the leaderboards. They def don't want us up against FinDom or whatever their dumb pornographic team name is this soon into our careers. Probably some archaic bullshit about paying dues or whatever. But it's like, if you know you know and they know.
"Cass and I keep getting thrown against these weird, rando types. Like we're a cleanup crew or a litmus test or something and if that could stop sometime soon that'd be much appreciated. I don't know if anyone in upper management actually watches our content but I'm sure they have an intern monitoring the feeds.
"Like the guy I was booked against this week to face alone. Stepan Malikov. Le epic microwave man. I'm not kidding. That's his thing. He sells microwaves and fights people. I don't even know how I'd describe it."
Olive pinches the bridge of her nose.
"We're all like, incredibly online here, right? Cool, cool. Malikov's whole shtick reeks of desperation. He so wants to go viral. It's so out there and random that it would've totally slayed in the early 2010s. It's almost kind of charming in that throwback sense. But then you realize that it isn't a throwback. It's twenty-freaking-twenty and he's doing this. This has to be what it feels like to watch the Lazer Collection now without any nostalgic connection to it. It's just, kinda dumb.
"Adler Tweens, I finally get it.
"It's just bizarre is all. I look at him and the Party Bros and the godforsaken Talent Enhancers and I can't help but think they still see us as a sideshow. First impressions, I guess. Maybe we should've thought that through a little better. Screw it, we're here, and they can't fully deny us. Especially not after Monday. If we gotta keep teaching them this lesson, we will."
A beat as Olive ponders what she just said, then bursts out laughing.
"Tough talk still isn't my strong suit, huh? Anyway, anyone have questions?"
She scrolls through the live chat.
"jakepauler69 asks: post fee— oh, god fuc—"