Post by Azurine Vebbins on Mar 14, 2021 20:32:26 GMT -5
The following promotional material opens with “Da Damsel in Dat Dress” Azurine Vebbins covertly climbing down from a dance cage. She cross-check references her breathing pattern to experiences with similar exercises. Once achieving a de-escalated demeanor, Vebbins subconsciously sighs before reaching her recommended rhetoric rhythm.
Azurine Vebbins: Meticulous musin’s to da primed populace of Meridian, Mississippi! It’s da hoisted half of your current, reignin’, and not complainin’ Action Wrestlin’ Cruiserweight Tag-Team Champions: Azurine Vebbins. Dis Monday night at CruiserClash Pineapple Promenade teaches da Two Guys Who Should’ve Given Up Chasin’ Dese Straps for Lent a din’ or several ’bout inescapable certainties. It might require a gradual gauntlet grasp since Knights Of Kem allegedly don’t deal wid dyin’ or taxes. Den again, it’s not as dough magic missiles or armaments crafted from cardboard tubes are strewn ’cross deyr cramped countryside. It’s difficult to strike down dastards wid-out some-din’ foreign to flail at dem, right? Right.
Plus, based on streamin’ dis soliloquy, I believe you’re cognizant of Andre Jenson’s grandeur gimmick. He won da genetic lottery, purchased a nature preserve as his own personal paradise, and made himself Kin’ of all and sundry who flock to dat far-flung folly. Dude’s an offshore oligarch, which if you aren’t sportin’ da “Dey Live” shades, would make him a fantastic face. Unless da rich ruler lists adept at accountin’ as deyr special skill, den he’s avoidin’ taxes firesale.
Again, dat’s just context clue conjecture from perusin’ his profile today. Sirius as da dog star, our lone similarity is inhabitin’ islands recognized by da Parts Unknown Nations Society. Imagine he’s not celebratin’ what I am today. Apart from havin’ dis title safely secured on my widdle waist. It’s March 11 a.k.a. National Promposal Day. Nidrah went to pick out dresses, leis, and corsages. Reminds me how I shouldn’t say we’re gettin’ “way lei-d” when meetin’ her parents dis weekend. Dat could lead to a long lapse in translation. I’d rad-er pave da pad-way wid pleasantness via makin’ intelligent inroads wid my potential in-laws. As my runnin’ deme suggests it’s anoder inescapable certainty. Especially when Nid’s “Beautiful Flower” busily blooms in da boudoir. I notion amorous anecdotes are what helps our troupe cultivate cachet wid chanters. Still, one should not inundate individuals on intimate intents and passionate purposes. Instead, da prudent procedure involves correlatin’ cranial conga from cold chairs and bein’ my partner’s “Hardheaded Housewife.”
What differentiates us from Jenson and his mask-lackin’ luchador lackey Teo Blaze? “Big Swoon” and hers truly stubbornly sashayed our sasses in every sanctioned contest we were scheduled. Our audience recognizes such conviction as high-quality hardheadedness. Nidrah, dough, claims it’s ’cause of her Samoan heritage. Conversely, my moniker came from bein’ pulverizin’-ly piledriven and waltzin’ away not paralyzed. Popped back up like a pogostick off a pimple after da bells stopped rin’-in’. Oddly, dat isolated incident also took place inside da welded wailin’ walls of a steel cage.
Now, b-flat honest, when my team deftly defends da Action Wrestlin’ Cruiserweight Tag-Team Championship strapped onto our mesmerizin’ midsections, I timidly tread toward trepidation in dis tango. As tweeted earlier today I’m acrophobic. And yes, dose who’ve viewed my exhibitions elsewhere, I once garnered gumption to successfully scale da forebodin’ fencin’. Of course, I was squarin’ off against an announcer’s aggrieved wife. “Da Adorkable Angel” averted annihilation by calculatin’ comprehensive cage control.
However, da same strategy won’t apply since da choreography’s twice as complicated. I’ll follow Nidrah’s lead as we establish dominance early, often, and minus mercy. Any-din’ limbo pole short of dat mark results in Two Frets bein’ da people’s preferred pairin’. Defeatin’ Fled, Flight, and Floozed meant we were no longer under da measurin’ stick, but its holders. Bestin’ Blaze and Jenson means Pineapple Promenade’s no longer da tandem to sleep on...which is funny since we’re grapplin’ on National Nappin’ Day. So, chanters, commence dreamin’ and to dose respectable rogues, I’ll paraphrase Valerie and Miracle Max from “Da Princess Bride”: “Night, night, boys. Have fun stormin’ da castle.”
Nidrah arrives soon after holding a mermaid dress and a red fishnet bodysuit. Their audio appears mumbled, but it sounds like the bodysuit might be for a commercial on CruiserClash.
Azurine Vebbins: Meticulous musin’s to da primed populace of Meridian, Mississippi! It’s da hoisted half of your current, reignin’, and not complainin’ Action Wrestlin’ Cruiserweight Tag-Team Champions: Azurine Vebbins. Dis Monday night at CruiserClash Pineapple Promenade teaches da Two Guys Who Should’ve Given Up Chasin’ Dese Straps for Lent a din’ or several ’bout inescapable certainties. It might require a gradual gauntlet grasp since Knights Of Kem allegedly don’t deal wid dyin’ or taxes. Den again, it’s not as dough magic missiles or armaments crafted from cardboard tubes are strewn ’cross deyr cramped countryside. It’s difficult to strike down dastards wid-out some-din’ foreign to flail at dem, right? Right.
Plus, based on streamin’ dis soliloquy, I believe you’re cognizant of Andre Jenson’s grandeur gimmick. He won da genetic lottery, purchased a nature preserve as his own personal paradise, and made himself Kin’ of all and sundry who flock to dat far-flung folly. Dude’s an offshore oligarch, which if you aren’t sportin’ da “Dey Live” shades, would make him a fantastic face. Unless da rich ruler lists adept at accountin’ as deyr special skill, den he’s avoidin’ taxes firesale.
Again, dat’s just context clue conjecture from perusin’ his profile today. Sirius as da dog star, our lone similarity is inhabitin’ islands recognized by da Parts Unknown Nations Society. Imagine he’s not celebratin’ what I am today. Apart from havin’ dis title safely secured on my widdle waist. It’s March 11 a.k.a. National Promposal Day. Nidrah went to pick out dresses, leis, and corsages. Reminds me how I shouldn’t say we’re gettin’ “way lei-d” when meetin’ her parents dis weekend. Dat could lead to a long lapse in translation. I’d rad-er pave da pad-way wid pleasantness via makin’ intelligent inroads wid my potential in-laws. As my runnin’ deme suggests it’s anoder inescapable certainty. Especially when Nid’s “Beautiful Flower” busily blooms in da boudoir. I notion amorous anecdotes are what helps our troupe cultivate cachet wid chanters. Still, one should not inundate individuals on intimate intents and passionate purposes. Instead, da prudent procedure involves correlatin’ cranial conga from cold chairs and bein’ my partner’s “Hardheaded Housewife.”
What differentiates us from Jenson and his mask-lackin’ luchador lackey Teo Blaze? “Big Swoon” and hers truly stubbornly sashayed our sasses in every sanctioned contest we were scheduled. Our audience recognizes such conviction as high-quality hardheadedness. Nidrah, dough, claims it’s ’cause of her Samoan heritage. Conversely, my moniker came from bein’ pulverizin’-ly piledriven and waltzin’ away not paralyzed. Popped back up like a pogostick off a pimple after da bells stopped rin’-in’. Oddly, dat isolated incident also took place inside da welded wailin’ walls of a steel cage.
Now, b-flat honest, when my team deftly defends da Action Wrestlin’ Cruiserweight Tag-Team Championship strapped onto our mesmerizin’ midsections, I timidly tread toward trepidation in dis tango. As tweeted earlier today I’m acrophobic. And yes, dose who’ve viewed my exhibitions elsewhere, I once garnered gumption to successfully scale da forebodin’ fencin’. Of course, I was squarin’ off against an announcer’s aggrieved wife. “Da Adorkable Angel” averted annihilation by calculatin’ comprehensive cage control.
However, da same strategy won’t apply since da choreography’s twice as complicated. I’ll follow Nidrah’s lead as we establish dominance early, often, and minus mercy. Any-din’ limbo pole short of dat mark results in Two Frets bein’ da people’s preferred pairin’. Defeatin’ Fled, Flight, and Floozed meant we were no longer under da measurin’ stick, but its holders. Bestin’ Blaze and Jenson means Pineapple Promenade’s no longer da tandem to sleep on...which is funny since we’re grapplin’ on National Nappin’ Day. So, chanters, commence dreamin’ and to dose respectable rogues, I’ll paraphrase Valerie and Miracle Max from “Da Princess Bride”: “Night, night, boys. Have fun stormin’ da castle.”
Nidrah arrives soon after holding a mermaid dress and a red fishnet bodysuit. Their audio appears mumbled, but it sounds like the bodysuit might be for a commercial on CruiserClash.