I killed Doug Furnas

Posted on March 3, 2012 by


I think being a gay dude who runs one of those cliché Intelligent Gay Dude blogs must be a fucking blast. I hate women and have to sublimate that into a string of failed relationships and an obsession with sociopathic cultural forms. These guys hate women and can play that off into liveblogging episodes of America’s Next Top Model and capturing gifs from Jersey Shore where the castmembers have slightly pudgy arms.

And that’s fine, because reality TV stars and pop divas aren’t really human, they don’t have feelings that can be hurt. I thought wrestlers were exactly the same. But no. If you blade a wrestler, does he not bleed? Apparently so.

Just over a week ago, I mocked Doug Furnas. Mocked him online. Accused him of being unable to work a basic “get the foreign import face” match properly. And now? He’s dead. Doug Furnas was googling for himself, maybe he had a Google Alert set up, I don’t know. Maybe he got sent a link. Whatever it was, he saw that headline. He had some fond memories of his brief ECW spell, perhaps casting his mind back to the time he and The Sinister Minister went for yakisoba together or something. And he read that article, ready to have those times brought back to him. And he got mockery. He had his shortcomings brutally and honestly taken apart by the Emile Zola of fake fighting.

And it affected him. Maybe he played it off like it didn’t, but it did. Ate away at him. And like Haile Selassie dropping dead of a heart attack moments after reading a newspaper article calling him a cunt, Furnas couldn’t take the criticism. And his heart gave out.

Journalists have power, which is something we often forget. In my previous years as a quasi-music blogger, this wasn’t a problem. If I was destroying another blogger’s career, putting them up on the SummerJam screen, that was all part of the game we signed up for. But wrestlers are dumb, dumb creatures. Doug Furnas was a man who took part in the mid-90s WWF tag team scene, he wasn’t a man capable of intellectual leaps. He couldn’t defend himself, and his brain couldn’t defend him from himself.

So, dear diary, my bullshit teen wrestling blog now has a body count. I’m not sure what we do now. Update daily, I suppose. For some reason the Google hits indicate that people out there want a wrestling blog that doesn’t just c+p “CENA MUST TURN HEEL NOW” 5,000 times. Someone should probably tell the dudes at Bleacher Report that.

Posted in: Ten Bell Salute