Post by Tamika Strader on Mar 23, 2022 23:19:21 GMT -5
Père Lachaise cimetière
March 20th, 2022
Paris, France
(offcam)
A world-famous cemetery named after Père François de la Chaise (1624-1709), the confessor of King Louis XIV and has many of Europe’s most famous poets, actors, playwrights, authors and also the Great American Poet, James Douglas Morrison; Jim Morrison aka The Lizard King of The Doors. That’s who Tamika was here to visit specifically.
Growing up, her mom, who gave her the love of music she has (and has been guiding her nieces in the ways of music), was a massive Jim Morrison fan. So, he became one of Tamika’s favourite frontmen, and since she was in Europe, she decided to visit his grave for her 33rd birthday.
“Wow, it’s beautiful in a morbid way for a cemetery, isn’t it? The mausoleums, statues, extravagant headstones and final resting places of so many influential people, and the oh so sexy Lizard King, Jim Morrison,” she swoons as she says it. She looks at her phone, which is on FaceTime with Samantha Tolson, her scissor friend, as Meghan calls her. Scissor Sisters sounds too Alabama.
“You are so cute when you are excited! It’s been a long month without you.”
“Oh, we have gone this long before. Besides, I am sure you have others to keep you company.”
“Not on separate continents, and yes, I do, but they aren’t you.”
“Careful, monogamy might like good on you.”
“Hey now, no need to be mean.”
The two share a chuckle as Tamika sits down on a stone in front of Morrison’s tombstone littered with joints, bottles of whiskey and what seems to be tabs of acid that have gotten wet from the rain. If the zombie apocalypse happens here, it will be one hell of a trip.
“I know, but my sister and niece needed me, and somehow I am in a match for the Craze Title,” she says in hopes of appeasing Miss Tolson.
“You are going to win, ya know? You are much better than Roach. I am not sure he knows which way is up!” she says excitedly with a smile.
“I am not a singles wrassler by nature. I am a tag team girl... that sounds dirty, nyuk nyuk. I do feel good, though. I had my neck repaired, and it’s never felt better. I don’t have to hold back. Meghan knows, and she told me about her back. We are in better shape than we have ever been!” she exclaims with a sweet smile.
Samantha shakes her head.
“There you go again with that ‘we’ stuff, Meeks. This isn’t the Cowgirls From Hell going for a tag team title against The Dravers, even if it should be. It’s Tamika Anne Strader going for the Craze Championship, and you are going to leave Dublin as the champ. Believe in YOUrself!”
Strader blushes, and her emerald green eyes smile as wide as her pink lips. On her face. Perv.
“I know, Sam. I got this.”
“Damn right, and you can wear the belt when I see you.”
“In my Hotdog Ring Gear?!”
“Well… I was thinking just the championship and the four-leaf clover,” Tamika can see the little devil in the Missouri River Amazon’s eyes dancing around. She winks at the screen.
“I knew you liked it!”
“Well, I hope your birthday was everything it could be–”
“-you got to go. I know. We’ll speak soon, Sammy-Wammy.”
Stares of blankness from both, but Tamika wasn’t going to crack.
“No?”
“... No.”
Dublin, Ireland
March 23rd, 2022
(oncam)
Uh-oh. It isn’t… ahh. Yes, it is. It’s an 80s movie fight movie montage set to Eye of the Tiger. The scene is Dublin, Ireland, at many of its different sites and sights. As the main riff kicks in, we see a figure in the shadows, oddly phallic-shaped with legs and arms wrapped in something. The tops of whatever it is surrounding the phallic-shape start moving to the riff. The riff picks up fully, and the tops keep dancing. As the words start the figure does a 180 jumping turnaround and continues dancing to the riff as we see it’s Tamika Tekashi Tsunami Strader, Triple T out on the mean streets of Dublin and covering Eye of the Tiger.
Scenery changes to Tamika in full-on hotdog ring-gear at Leinster House in Ireland as she is jogging by her head, bouncing with each step forward, sending out shadow jabs. Before we know it, she is in front of Dublin Castle, dancing like the Cactuar from the Final Fantasy series.
Now at the Christ Church Cathedral, she arrives and starts with some type of “Hail Sweet baby Jesus” deep south Babtist arm-waving praising. She makes the sign of the cross and kisses a giant Rosary around her hotdog neck after the sign of the cross.
Suddenly we are in a meat freezer with Tamika, still in the hotdog gear, punching a slab of meat that has been made to resemble Roach. Meghan is dressed like Mickey, and she is yelling at Tamika, a whistle in her left hand and a towel around her neck.
“YOU’RE A BUM TEKASHI! A GODDAMN BUM, TSUNAMI!
“ARGHHHHHH!!!!”
Tamika starts punching so hard bits of the thawing Roach-slab are chipping away. Meghan smiles and nods like it was her plan all along.
Back to the mean streets of Dublin in the neighbourhood of Temple Bar, Tamika Hotdog Strader is instead flashing from one pub to the next, increasingly drunker with each flash.
Tamika is hammered straddling one of the poles in the centre of the archways that go across the famous bridge over the River Liffney. The next little bit is Meghan trying to get her down, but she stumbles backwards and falls off back over the rail into the river. Meghan goes running over to show Tamika happily swimming on her back as she floats on her bun.
Now sober, she is flirting with a handsome Irishman, but when she sees the camera, she is back to her shadow jabs and pretending she is Mohammed Ali (dancing like a butterfly).
Tamika stands beside a reporter at like a stereotypical UFC or Boxing press conference type thing with a poor man's Roach in the form of Jason Momoa on the other side in boxing gear. Tamika adjusts the cape around her hotdog neck, half the Canadian flag and half America’s.
“Well, maybe I’ll fight Roachopolo, maybe I won’t ya know? ADRIANNNNNNNNNNNE!” she exclaims excitedly after rearing back to kick poor Jason in his Momoas.
Finally, we end this ridiculousness with Tamika lying on the ground, as we hang above her face as she sings at the end of the song.
“The eye of the tiger, the eye of the tiger, the eye of the tiger, the eye of the tiger,” she sings as we fade into a small recording and video editing room where Tamika sits in the director's chair with her snakeskin cowgirl boots up on the table. She is staring at the monitor, having just been put through that we were put through and turns to look at JIM who has a sheepish look all the girls fall for. He looks behind him to see Meghan watching with her eyes switching back and forth between those two. Tamika leans forward slightly and gazes up at JIM.
“JIM, this… thing…this thing?” she asks, gesturing to the monitor with her hands. He nods slowly, and in the back, a grin is forming on the elder Cowgirl. Tamika looks back towards the monitor, leans back, looks to Meghan, and right back at JIM. “That was fricking awesome! If you were a fruit, you would be a total fineapple!” definitely excited, she is up and kisses JIM right on the forehead, and as the suave motherfucker he is, he replies cooly.
“I got you.”
This isn’t PreJac-Gilbert here. This is a man.
“Megz, whatcha think?”
“Well, it is definitely ridiculous as you hoped it would be. JIM,” she says, turning towards the man, “We’ll be definitely sending Harold to you when he’s done filming our videos. Great work.”
And unlike Kevin Federline or Roach, JIM is now beaming with a DESERVED self confidence boost. Tamika is thrilled Meghan approves and she hops back up, and claps her hands.
“It’s a shame ya know.”
“Yeah, I know. The guy looks like a fucking star or soon-to-be star but he goes and does what he does.”
“Like I love having fun and joking around as much as anyone, but you have to know when to draw the line. Roast’s –”
“- Roast?”
“He’s not the only one who can play with names. As I was saying, Roast’s deflection and his inability to not take anything in life seriously. I mean you are right. He’s got the look, the body, he does have skill, and he could be a major ass draw. That guy motivated? If we were still running the PWA he be on the top to poach.”
Meghan nods, and lets out puff with her sigh, her crimson red lips baring for all.
“If he cleaned himself up a bit, stopped being ridiculous walking around with a championship he made that a kid would be ashamed of, he could walk out of Luck of the Violent as the Craze Champion.”
“For me I made something out of my career with you, Meghan. We established the Cowgirls From Hell and the Order of Chaos as upper echelon. I have many proud moments in my career to look back on. This singles opportunity is my ‘what if?’ and at the end of the day for me, it doesn’t matter to my career if I win or not.”
“Exactly, it just changes it a bit or it will stay on a path to those OCW tag team titles the Danger Boiz are keeping safe for us.”
“I mean, will I win? Dang right. Will there be some surprises along the way? Damn skippy. Is anyone gonna die? I don’t know, I doubt it but Harold could.”
“Harold’s not even here.”
“No, but like he could be in a hotel room with a a couple dozen hydromorphs to shoot up and 3 skanky hookers to excite his slowed down heart and BOOM! Heartattack and/or stroke.”
Meghan nods with a shrug.
“Valid point. I should send Cara to check on him.”
The family sneer has crept across Tamika’s face as she turns to look deep into our souls.
“Just remember, Roast… my hotdog ring gear brings all the pronouns to the yard.”
Tamika winks, and the sisters leave JIM just standing there as king of bachelors in OCW.
March 20th, 2022
Paris, France
(offcam)
A world-famous cemetery named after Père François de la Chaise (1624-1709), the confessor of King Louis XIV and has many of Europe’s most famous poets, actors, playwrights, authors and also the Great American Poet, James Douglas Morrison; Jim Morrison aka The Lizard King of The Doors. That’s who Tamika was here to visit specifically.
Growing up, her mom, who gave her the love of music she has (and has been guiding her nieces in the ways of music), was a massive Jim Morrison fan. So, he became one of Tamika’s favourite frontmen, and since she was in Europe, she decided to visit his grave for her 33rd birthday.
“Wow, it’s beautiful in a morbid way for a cemetery, isn’t it? The mausoleums, statues, extravagant headstones and final resting places of so many influential people, and the oh so sexy Lizard King, Jim Morrison,” she swoons as she says it. She looks at her phone, which is on FaceTime with Samantha Tolson, her scissor friend, as Meghan calls her. Scissor Sisters sounds too Alabama.
“You are so cute when you are excited! It’s been a long month without you.”
“Oh, we have gone this long before. Besides, I am sure you have others to keep you company.”
“Not on separate continents, and yes, I do, but they aren’t you.”
“Careful, monogamy might like good on you.”
“Hey now, no need to be mean.”
The two share a chuckle as Tamika sits down on a stone in front of Morrison’s tombstone littered with joints, bottles of whiskey and what seems to be tabs of acid that have gotten wet from the rain. If the zombie apocalypse happens here, it will be one hell of a trip.
“I know, but my sister and niece needed me, and somehow I am in a match for the Craze Title,” she says in hopes of appeasing Miss Tolson.
“You are going to win, ya know? You are much better than Roach. I am not sure he knows which way is up!” she says excitedly with a smile.
“I am not a singles wrassler by nature. I am a tag team girl... that sounds dirty, nyuk nyuk. I do feel good, though. I had my neck repaired, and it’s never felt better. I don’t have to hold back. Meghan knows, and she told me about her back. We are in better shape than we have ever been!” she exclaims with a sweet smile.
Samantha shakes her head.
“There you go again with that ‘we’ stuff, Meeks. This isn’t the Cowgirls From Hell going for a tag team title against The Dravers, even if it should be. It’s Tamika Anne Strader going for the Craze Championship, and you are going to leave Dublin as the champ. Believe in YOUrself!”
Strader blushes, and her emerald green eyes smile as wide as her pink lips. On her face. Perv.
“I know, Sam. I got this.”
“Damn right, and you can wear the belt when I see you.”
“In my Hotdog Ring Gear?!”
“Well… I was thinking just the championship and the four-leaf clover,” Tamika can see the little devil in the Missouri River Amazon’s eyes dancing around. She winks at the screen.
“I knew you liked it!”
“Well, I hope your birthday was everything it could be–”
“-you got to go. I know. We’ll speak soon, Sammy-Wammy.”
Stares of blankness from both, but Tamika wasn’t going to crack.
“No?”
“... No.”
Dublin, Ireland
March 23rd, 2022
(oncam)
Uh-oh. It isn’t… ahh. Yes, it is. It’s an 80s movie fight movie montage set to Eye of the Tiger. The scene is Dublin, Ireland, at many of its different sites and sights. As the main riff kicks in, we see a figure in the shadows, oddly phallic-shaped with legs and arms wrapped in something. The tops of whatever it is surrounding the phallic-shape start moving to the riff. The riff picks up fully, and the tops keep dancing. As the words start the figure does a 180 jumping turnaround and continues dancing to the riff as we see it’s Tamika Tekashi Tsunami Strader, Triple T out on the mean streets of Dublin and covering Eye of the Tiger.
~Rising up, back on the street
Did my time, took my chances~
Scenery changes to Tamika in full-on hotdog ring-gear at Leinster House in Ireland as she is jogging by her head, bouncing with each step forward, sending out shadow jabs. Before we know it, she is in front of Dublin Castle, dancing like the Cactuar from the Final Fantasy series.
~Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet
Just a man and his will to survive~
Now at the Christ Church Cathedral, she arrives and starts with some type of “Hail Sweet baby Jesus” deep south Babtist arm-waving praising. She makes the sign of the cross and kisses a giant Rosary around her hotdog neck after the sign of the cross.
~So many times it happens too fast
You change your passion for glory
Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past
You must fight just to keep them alive~
Suddenly we are in a meat freezer with Tamika, still in the hotdog gear, punching a slab of meat that has been made to resemble Roach. Meghan is dressed like Mickey, and she is yelling at Tamika, a whistle in her left hand and a towel around her neck.
“YOU’RE A BUM TEKASHI! A GODDAMN BUM, TSUNAMI!
“ARGHHHHHH!!!!”
Tamika starts punching so hard bits of the thawing Roach-slab are chipping away. Meghan smiles and nods like it was her plan all along.
~It's the eye of the tiger
It's the thrill of the fight
Rising up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor~
Back to the mean streets of Dublin in the neighbourhood of Temple Bar, Tamika Hotdog Strader is instead flashing from one pub to the next, increasingly drunker with each flash.
~Stalks his prey in the night
And he's watching us all with the eye of the tiger
Face to face, out in the heat
Hanging tough, staying hungry~
Tamika is hammered straddling one of the poles in the centre of the archways that go across the famous bridge over the River Liffney. The next little bit is Meghan trying to get her down, but she stumbles backwards and falls off back over the rail into the river. Meghan goes running over to show Tamika happily swimming on her back as she floats on her bun.
~They stack the odds 'til we take to the street
For the kill with the skill to survive
It's the eye of the tiger
It's the thrill of the fight~
Now sober, she is flirting with a handsome Irishman, but when she sees the camera, she is back to her shadow jabs and pretending she is Mohammed Ali (dancing like a butterfly).
~Rising up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor
Stalks his prey in the night
And he's watching us all with the eye of the tiger~
Tamika stands beside a reporter at like a stereotypical UFC or Boxing press conference type thing with a poor man's Roach in the form of Jason Momoa on the other side in boxing gear. Tamika adjusts the cape around her hotdog neck, half the Canadian flag and half America’s.
“Well, maybe I’ll fight Roachopolo, maybe I won’t ya know? ADRIANNNNNNNNNNNE!” she exclaims excitedly after rearing back to kick poor Jason in his Momoas.
Finally, we end this ridiculousness with Tamika lying on the ground, as we hang above her face as she sings at the end of the song.
“The eye of the tiger, the eye of the tiger, the eye of the tiger, the eye of the tiger,” she sings as we fade into a small recording and video editing room where Tamika sits in the director's chair with her snakeskin cowgirl boots up on the table. She is staring at the monitor, having just been put through that we were put through and turns to look at JIM who has a sheepish look all the girls fall for. He looks behind him to see Meghan watching with her eyes switching back and forth between those two. Tamika leans forward slightly and gazes up at JIM.
“JIM, this… thing…this thing?” she asks, gesturing to the monitor with her hands. He nods slowly, and in the back, a grin is forming on the elder Cowgirl. Tamika looks back towards the monitor, leans back, looks to Meghan, and right back at JIM. “That was fricking awesome! If you were a fruit, you would be a total fineapple!” definitely excited, she is up and kisses JIM right on the forehead, and as the suave motherfucker he is, he replies cooly.
“I got you.”
This isn’t PreJac-Gilbert here. This is a man.
“Megz, whatcha think?”
“Well, it is definitely ridiculous as you hoped it would be. JIM,” she says, turning towards the man, “We’ll be definitely sending Harold to you when he’s done filming our videos. Great work.”
And unlike Kevin Federline or Roach, JIM is now beaming with a DESERVED self confidence boost. Tamika is thrilled Meghan approves and she hops back up, and claps her hands.
“It’s a shame ya know.”
“Yeah, I know. The guy looks like a fucking star or soon-to-be star but he goes and does what he does.”
“Like I love having fun and joking around as much as anyone, but you have to know when to draw the line. Roast’s –”
“- Roast?”
“He’s not the only one who can play with names. As I was saying, Roast’s deflection and his inability to not take anything in life seriously. I mean you are right. He’s got the look, the body, he does have skill, and he could be a major ass draw. That guy motivated? If we were still running the PWA he be on the top to poach.”
Meghan nods, and lets out puff with her sigh, her crimson red lips baring for all.
“If he cleaned himself up a bit, stopped being ridiculous walking around with a championship he made that a kid would be ashamed of, he could walk out of Luck of the Violent as the Craze Champion.”
“For me I made something out of my career with you, Meghan. We established the Cowgirls From Hell and the Order of Chaos as upper echelon. I have many proud moments in my career to look back on. This singles opportunity is my ‘what if?’ and at the end of the day for me, it doesn’t matter to my career if I win or not.”
“Exactly, it just changes it a bit or it will stay on a path to those OCW tag team titles the Danger Boiz are keeping safe for us.”
“I mean, will I win? Dang right. Will there be some surprises along the way? Damn skippy. Is anyone gonna die? I don’t know, I doubt it but Harold could.”
“Harold’s not even here.”
“No, but like he could be in a hotel room with a a couple dozen hydromorphs to shoot up and 3 skanky hookers to excite his slowed down heart and BOOM! Heartattack and/or stroke.”
Meghan nods with a shrug.
“Valid point. I should send Cara to check on him.”
The family sneer has crept across Tamika’s face as she turns to look deep into our souls.
“Just remember, Roast… my hotdog ring gear brings all the pronouns to the yard.”
Tamika winks, and the sisters leave JIM just standing there as king of bachelors in OCW.
