Hi, my name's Very Honest Content and I've been a Hulkamaniac for 30 years now. It all started when I was very young and my dad told me about the one and only
beating that unAmerican camel clutching scumbag The Iron Sheik for the most prestigious prize in the great sport of professional wrestling and I just knew in my impressionable young mind, that I wanted to, no HAD TO, see him for myself. Thankfully, thanks to my uncle who had cable (and was a fan of that JERK Ric Flair but who despised
as a mediocre body builder with no wrestling talent) I was able to finally lay eyes on those awe inspiring 24 inch pythons and knew right then that I had somebody to look up to. I became addicted. Soon I couldn't stop following the exploits of my hero but I had a problem and in just a few short years I was lowering myself to watching Heart Break Kid matches and cheering for that pompous douche man-whore to kip-up, inverted atomic drop, flying forearm, scoop slam, drop the elbow from the top and superkick everything in sight. Oh, sure, I'd keep an eye on the TRUE and HONEST greatest icon in professional wrestling while he beat up that womanizing yuppie Flair down south from time to time, but it wasn't as intoxicating as HBK going through 29 other competitors in the Royal Rumble for me and I found myself straying from believing in Hulk Hogan for the first time in my life around that time. I felt dirty, but I couldn't admit to myself that what I was doing was wrong at the time and pretended nothing was the matter with me.
But then it happened, one night, in the summer of '96, just a little up the road from me in Daytona Beach, the Hulkster went Hollywood and I found myself turning in to Turner's networks on my satellite dish to watch the nWo run wild on the puny WCW and I relapsed completely. From there I hate to admit this, but I even lowered myself to becoming a Jerichoholic and that's where I think I finally began to hit rock bottom and slowly realize that I needed help. With Steve Austin warring with my personal bane of wrestling existence Bret Hart and the Montreal Screwjob I was able to finally kick the WCW habit although I would still always have to keep one hand on the remote to see if Hulk was ever going to re-don his classic red and yellow attire and be the hero he had once been for me and sure enough, I was rewarded with the famous (some claim infamously bad, but not me, no sir!) Yappapi Indian Strap Match promo by the time I was in college and had become a loyal fan of Mr. Monday Night, Rob Van Dam. Then the Monday Night Wars came to their conclusion and Wrestlemania 18 in Toronto happened and suddenly Hulkamania was running wild once again with a vengeance and the greatest comeback in wrestling history was complete for me, as Hulk was able to regain the title he had previously held over a decade earlier in his own personal 'Rumble in the Jungle' moment and the world was set right for me once again!
I moved to Los Angeles after college and suffered a, what I consider an ironic, due to my straying from the Hulkster to cheer for HBK, debilitating back injury that really impacted my mental and physical health and was really doing poorly overall but in the nadir of that I was able to see my one of my all time dream matches, Hulk vs. HBK, Summerslam 2005 and by then had become keen enough to realize just how hilarious it was that my hero, the force behind Hulkamania had always been getting his fans like myself to cheer for his leg drop which was a move that just a few years before I was born would have made a ref disqualify him for attempting to KILL HIS OPPONENT BY TARGETING HIS NECK in using it! Talk about working a crowd into a frenzy! Yet he was the most famous wrestler on the planet in part because of it? Truly this was yet more proof of the most powerful force in the entire universe being Hulkamania as the man had claimed for all this time, without a doubt. By the end of that match I was even happy that Hulk stood victorious over the man I once considered his superior for so many years until it was finally proved who was the better man all along on that night. Now, I'm doing better than ever and sure, only RVD can get me to actually want to watch wrestling anymore now that Hogan and HBK aren't active competitors regularly, but looking back I learned something very important that I want to share with the rest of you (and especially the big CWC if he ever reads this, however unlikely that is); in my darkest hour, when I could barely walk without crippling agony, when I was considering it wasn't worth getting up in the morning to deal with the pain and grind of another day in HellA, what kept me going?
It was the demandments ladies and gentlemen! It was the demandments of Hulkamania! The training! The prayers! The vitamins! No matter how distracted I got by all the flashy athleticism on display by the HBK's and RVD's, by the hell raising of the Stone Cold's, I never forgot or abandoned the lessons Hulk Hogan taught me as a young child watching him on my uncle's television that I had subconsciously made a core part of my being! The commitment to being a real American, who is also a Hulkamaniac, gave me the power to heal myself, find the will to continue to struggle against the difficulties I was faced with and ultimately overcome them to become successful in life despite the challenges it threw at me. That is the power of this great man, this great American, I type this proudly today to proclaim my thanks to you Hulk Hogan, for being that shinning beacon of success for me and all the other Hulkamaniacs just like me out there all over the world and who can share some sense of empathy with my story, because of him!
Thank you all for the opportunity to type my piece here and share this with you all, I'm Very Honest Content, and I'm proud to say I am a Hulkamaniac through and through. (I promise I won't hold what's going down in Orlando right now against you Hulk, no matter what, because of my gratitude to you, it goes without saying of course, brother!)
