Been listening to some wrestling podcasts. I can't get through them any more. It doesn't help that I don't know any of the guests if they wrestled in the WWF or WCW post-1994 or so. And there's a black period in my WWF memory for three or four years when I was watching WCW.

And Chris Jericho is insufferable. Let me count the ways:

1. He constantly has his kids on. If it's not interviewing his 10 year old son for half an hour it's changing the theme song to his kids singing a repetative nursery rhyme for five of the longest minutes you've ever experienced.

2. He thinks that he's a musician. And no fooling. He interviewed the Insane Clown Posse and repeatedly said things like, "Except for you two and me, we're the only people to be on the top of the industry in both wrestling and music."

I mean really. Can you name what band Chris Jericho is in? I don't even know and I listen to his ####ing podcast on a semi-regular basis where he mentions his band like ten times an episode. Let me look it up...

Fozzy. Well, he released six albums since 1999 but it's basically him and a rotating studio band. Fourteen people have been in the band.

It's a vanity project. I don't think that there are Fozzy fans. If he does "gigs" the only people going are surely wrestling fans who are going ironically.

Let me look for reviews. Well, this guy certainly didn't much care for it:

http://www.punknews.org/review/11415/fozzy-sin-and-bones

And you know, here's my third reason. Normally, I don't enjoy insulting people for the sake of it. He's doing his thing and what do I care?

But he's so full of himself and thinks that he's this big superstar that it's extremely off-putting. I mean, it's Chris Jericho. You put him next to Edge, Christian, and/or the Hardy Boys and I couldn't tell you which one he was. No way would I recognise him in public. But he tells stories where he's being mobbed. And he's not doing this to be a jerk or a "heel". It's his real personality.

Once, as I was strolling through the Inner City, I suddenly encountered an apparition in a black caftan and black hair locks. "Is this a Jew?", was my first thought.

For, to be sure, they had not looked like that in Linz. I observed the man furtively and cautiously, but the longer I stared at this foreign face, scrutinizing feature for feature, the more my first question assumed a new form:

"Is this a German?"