The WCW Bruise Cruise was exactly what it sounds like. You pay a shitload of money and get to go on a cruise with a bunch of wrestlers. That sounds miserable, to me. Firstly, you get a bunch of roided up wrestlers in shitty moods stuck on a boat with fans that irritate the shit out of them all week or weekend or whatever it is. Then, you also get to be shirtless on a boat with your chick surrounded by dudes who are all in better shape than you.
Of course my three second moment with Werner Herzog would turn out the way it did; an unplanned inconsequential moment of social malignancy and indifference.
On the bright side, I’m now broke again, but I’m at least going on the Bruise Cruise in February thanks to some very key (see: awesome) people. Bring on the cocaine and kool girls with low self-esteem. Just kidding. The former, not the latter.