Post by azurinevebbins on Jan 28, 2023 5:14:36 GMT
Scarlet starlets seldom scream like street-streaking sirens. Perched on a ten-foot ladder, Azurine Vebbins proves to be the extreme exemplar. “Da Damsel in Dat Dress” attends an Acrophobes Unanonymous at her own peril. She survived scaling CN Tower for a secret New Years Eve smooch session. Speaking publicly would be another logical step towards upward mobility. Leaked security camera footage films her surrounded by a counselor and five patients all sitting in floor-level steel chairs.
Azurine Vebbins: Good night, everybody! Let’s start at da foxtrottin’ finale. Most don’t expect a harp-hipped fallen angel ascendin’ back to heavenly heights. Fewer believe I’m capable of securin’ da Combat Unlimited Le-dal Trials Highway Robbery briefcase. However, much like foreign object placement in a Gimmicki’s Construction Floor Plan, it’s all about location, location, location. “Knockout Supreme” Silas Romero, “Da Comedian” Allen Chaney, “Irish Tiger” Murphy Doyle Maher, “Da Natural” Cassidy Hobbs, and “Warmonger” Eavan Maloney will end up stuck in ladder limbo at Colisée de Québec.
My opponents overestimate placement of da expectations bar. Aim low. Stay under da radar. Clear your objective. Find connectin’ vantage points on da X, Y, et “Zed” Axes where one can steal some spotlight. Only put da pedal to proverbial metal when your adversary’s mettle wilts into petals. Resist bein’ forward. Dese are da maniacal musin’s dis midcard maiden magnetizes to.
Been grapplin’ for seven-plus years, you’d notion I’d have a main event mentality. Almost feel chanters are viewin’ da “Deleted Scenes Era” of my career retrospective. Some-din’s just not clickin’, y’know? I miss Detective Sergeant Bishop’s handcuffs. I was her date for da Policewoman’s Ball a couple Fridays ago. Gwen’s genuinely gorgeous. She’s easier on my glasses.
Cassidy, conversely, becomes “‘Da Unnatural” by amplifyin’ areola arousal. Dat’s da cause for his elimination from our exhibition equation. Top and middle rope asphyxiation. Whed-er goin’ for an errant clodes-line, plancha, or spear, Hobbs takes himself out. Wid additional adversaries accounted for, deyr’s just da dude who doesn’t deserve dignified Daddy energy.
Gotta gad-er chewin’ gumption before someone bursts my bubble. Describin’ each demise in detail means “Da Adorkable Angel’s” earned more time to climb. I must nullify ninnyhammer nerves. Hearin’ myself say Mister English makes me sound Quaker Oats Amish. I know Mister English placed me in dis promenade for a particular purpose. It’s not like Casanova’d book me in some shady Scaffold Shuffle or Blindfold Ballet. Win or lose, I notion next mond’s merengue’s for a bawdier belt: Blank On A Pole Championship.
Again, why does my Highway Robbery revolve ’round ladders? Can hear voices tell me to view dose home improvement hazards as attached stilts or two fitness poles wid steps. Still, if I’m leanin’ on anyone durin’ dis ludicrous lambada, it’s Allen Chaney and Eavan Maloney. One dated my cousin, anoder was married to my recent ex’s sister. “Da Comedian’s” endin’ his set by crackin’ Silas Romero somewhere near Concessions. Eavan, meanwhile, might attempt on trappin’ and cagin’ an endangered “Irish Tiger” under several unsound structures. Once da openin’ bell rin’s, my lone locomotive line of logic is makin’ sure Allen, Eavan, Silas, and Murphy destroy one anoder wid deyr own diabolical devices. Stunned I’m speakin’ at such an altered altitude.
The confused counselor removes a pair of noise-canceling earbuds.
Counselor: Azurine, are you ready to psychoanalyze your next performance? Did anyone else see her scale that accident apparatus? Looks like someone’s receiving their graduation plaque from Acrophobes Unanonymous today.
Azurine Vebbins: Good night, everybody! Let’s start at da foxtrottin’ finale. Most don’t expect a harp-hipped fallen angel ascendin’ back to heavenly heights. Fewer believe I’m capable of securin’ da Combat Unlimited Le-dal Trials Highway Robbery briefcase. However, much like foreign object placement in a Gimmicki’s Construction Floor Plan, it’s all about location, location, location. “Knockout Supreme” Silas Romero, “Da Comedian” Allen Chaney, “Irish Tiger” Murphy Doyle Maher, “Da Natural” Cassidy Hobbs, and “Warmonger” Eavan Maloney will end up stuck in ladder limbo at Colisée de Québec.
My opponents overestimate placement of da expectations bar. Aim low. Stay under da radar. Clear your objective. Find connectin’ vantage points on da X, Y, et “Zed” Axes where one can steal some spotlight. Only put da pedal to proverbial metal when your adversary’s mettle wilts into petals. Resist bein’ forward. Dese are da maniacal musin’s dis midcard maiden magnetizes to.
Been grapplin’ for seven-plus years, you’d notion I’d have a main event mentality. Almost feel chanters are viewin’ da “Deleted Scenes Era” of my career retrospective. Some-din’s just not clickin’, y’know? I miss Detective Sergeant Bishop’s handcuffs. I was her date for da Policewoman’s Ball a couple Fridays ago. Gwen’s genuinely gorgeous. She’s easier on my glasses.
Cassidy, conversely, becomes “‘Da Unnatural” by amplifyin’ areola arousal. Dat’s da cause for his elimination from our exhibition equation. Top and middle rope asphyxiation. Whed-er goin’ for an errant clodes-line, plancha, or spear, Hobbs takes himself out. Wid additional adversaries accounted for, deyr’s just da dude who doesn’t deserve dignified Daddy energy.
Gotta gad-er chewin’ gumption before someone bursts my bubble. Describin’ each demise in detail means “Da Adorkable Angel’s” earned more time to climb. I must nullify ninnyhammer nerves. Hearin’ myself say Mister English makes me sound Quaker Oats Amish. I know Mister English placed me in dis promenade for a particular purpose. It’s not like Casanova’d book me in some shady Scaffold Shuffle or Blindfold Ballet. Win or lose, I notion next mond’s merengue’s for a bawdier belt: Blank On A Pole Championship.
Again, why does my Highway Robbery revolve ’round ladders? Can hear voices tell me to view dose home improvement hazards as attached stilts or two fitness poles wid steps. Still, if I’m leanin’ on anyone durin’ dis ludicrous lambada, it’s Allen Chaney and Eavan Maloney. One dated my cousin, anoder was married to my recent ex’s sister. “Da Comedian’s” endin’ his set by crackin’ Silas Romero somewhere near Concessions. Eavan, meanwhile, might attempt on trappin’ and cagin’ an endangered “Irish Tiger” under several unsound structures. Once da openin’ bell rin’s, my lone locomotive line of logic is makin’ sure Allen, Eavan, Silas, and Murphy destroy one anoder wid deyr own diabolical devices. Stunned I’m speakin’ at such an altered altitude.
The confused counselor removes a pair of noise-canceling earbuds.
Counselor: Azurine, are you ready to psychoanalyze your next performance? Did anyone else see her scale that accident apparatus? Looks like someone’s receiving their graduation plaque from Acrophobes Unanonymous today.