All right, I know I promised all 6 of you that I would have a review of Superman/Batman: Apocalypse up today, but there were unforeseen complications. Mainly, the DVD copy I had decided to be terrible. As in, not working terrible. So I'm afraid that you will have to wait until Thursday to get a review. However, I won't let you go away empty handed. So sit back, relax, and let Ze Wrecker tell you all a story. A true story. The story of why I am called Ze Wrecker.
Many years ago, I was but a stupid college freshman. I had never been drunk, never done any illegal drugs, never went to a party that was interrupted by the police. But all of that changed forever that year. I went to several parties (the police went to a couple of them too), drank several gallons of alcohol, and will admit to having partaken in a little bit of what kids these days are calling "ganja". The specific party I went to where I earned the nickname Wrecker included both the alcohol and weed, but I only drank at this one.
It was sometime in February, and I had just drank the last third of a bottle of orange vodka. By now, there are just about 6 or 7 of us left at my friend's house. I stumble into the living room, trip over his dog, and land on the futon at just the wrong angle. The thing collapses under my not inconsiderable weight. Laughter all around. I stand up, stagger backwards, and land hard on my ass. Well, not just my ass. There happened to be an ashtray there. By this point, everybody in the house is cracking up. I stand up, realize that my jeans have ash all over the ass, and begin trying to brush it off. In my very drunken state, I was all over the place. While stumbling around slapping at my ass, my feet tangle up, and I fall face first on the floor in front of the door, knocking a framed picture that hung next to the door off the wall. It shatters. One of my drunken friends says, "He's like a fucking wrecking ball."
So now, for the past 7 years, I've been known to him and a few others as Wrecker. I wish it were because I beat up 6 guys in a bar fight with my bare hands. But alas, such is not the case. It's because I was a drunken idiot.
And now you know...the rest of the story.