681 MB – 1920*1080 – mp4 – 00:19:30
There is nothing to do for Goddess Amadahy again on this site. It is impossible to write with unclouded eyes here thinking of her, seven minutes and four weeks of cries and screams, and quiet and wonder. And of no importance at all to the gravity of her disappearance from the world, is that Reality Girls lost likely its biggest superstar. The one and true Goddess will never lock on another headscissors and bite her lip as she feels a neck’s ligaments give from her strength and leverage. She loved headscissors. She loved knocking people out. Goddess Amadahy loved, and was so good, at so many things. And she made good money with we lucky handful. She helped people see us. One producer, I forget who, she always remembered, once wrote that all there was to a clip hitting the Top 50 was writing the name “Amadahy” in the title. So good was she at so much that we sometimes, in descriptions, wrote to never underestimate her skill on the mat. But all who saw her needed nothing of a reminder. She was remarkable. She was skilled and beat larger opponents in competitive matches. She was a beautiful athlete. She was a swimmer and played water polo. And she was right; her legs were “assassin legs.” Her headscissors could pull your neck off at full power as her pelvis threatened to break it because it seemed she could tilt the bone up forever. She dove in clear oceans and made friends with wild things; she seemed often on Twitter, far away in a winter coat outshining mountains or highlighting them, depending which was her mood. If we are lucky, we are among those who talked to her on the phone. Amadahy would text. But she preferred talking on the phone. Part anachronism; part existentialist. At 4 a.m. in Vegas, and in all the places those in our lucky little group saw her name pop up on our phone … we all know that little extra excitement. And it’s gone. We loved her. We miss her. As all those burdened with greatness are, she was a kaleidoscope; at once beautiful and rapid and unpredictable, difficult and postured, and stubborn, and right and wrong and knowledgeable, and so damn smart. God she was smart. And her eyes were so fucking hot. All rooms were hers when she entered. In one flash nothing is the same, as it can never be when someone shining too bright on a road is gone from it. Loren Blaine and Amadahy loved one another. I watched the pinned tweet with Ava kissing Loren’s ear too many times not to take it down. They were, and are, two badass girls who met and flourished applying violent submission holds at Reality Girls over almost the same number of years, talked and listened and knocked more people out together than we would count for much less than almost a small fortune. They shared common things. One strickly common thing they shared was an extreme hatred for Thin Man. Some hate him, some don’t. They did, and do. The only thing Goddess Amadahy might have loved more than putting people in headscissors was hating Thin Man. So when the superstar blonde, Loren takes on Thin Man here for the first time since Hannah was new, it all happened, it seemed, with something about Amadahy in it. Loren brutalizes him, knocks him out in a rear naked choke, with which Amadahy loved making his head bounce off mats. Behind them is one of three orchids from Goddess Amadahy’s Orlando wake last Sunday. They are one white and two blue — all hers — but this blue one for us to keep lit, here in the window behind the beautiful Loren, who headscissors their nemesis in big, black heels; when he says bodyscissors are some of the easier holds to take, she makes him sorry, and scream. He’s sorry throughout. In front of Amadahy’s orchid, Loren wraps a metal collar and leash around his neck, tells him to “shutup” and rides him before a look out onto the sidewalk inspires her to walk him outside. She is stopped only by the pleading raccoon eyes of Fat Fuck the cameraman from parading him down a busy street. Instead, Loren takes him out back by the pool and fucks him up on the hard brick pavers, forcing his tongue from his mouth in rear naked chokes, turning him purple and putting him back to sleep; he convulses. He panics but hangs in against one of the meanest girls in wrestling. It’s a trait the two girls also shared — cruelty. Only one girl we have filmed just here has been meaner than Goddess Amadahy and Loren Blaine, and that’s because the forever nameless girl has no soul. We wish she’d come back. Amadahy, whose soul seemed always reaching for something great or dangerous or new or familiar, might or might not have liked the evil girl, but she would have been intrigued by her. And she would surely have been smiling here, or jumping in, or watching with those laser eyes, or all of it — as there were few more favorite sights for her than the pain of the man Loren is draining the existence from — Thin Man — hurt and panicked here in reverse headscissors, slapped — totally brutalized by Loren Blaine. Whether something more than here exists, Goddess Amadahy would have loved it down on this cruel world, from which as brilliant a star as will ever be has vanished. Duration: 19:31
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