An Ode to Wrestling Thursday, Sep 26 2013 

You probably have a cursory knowledge of wrestling. Like if I held a gun to your head and asked you to name three professional wrestlers, you could probably do it.

I have faith in you.

I have faith in you.

But could you tell me why wrestling is the best thing ever? Why you should devote your life to it and abandon everything else you hold dear? If not, don’t worry. I’m about to give you a primer on why watching wrestling should be your new favorite hobby.

(This primer is very WWE-centric).

1. IT IS CHOCK FULL OF ATTRACTIVE PEOPLE

Maybe it’s unfair, but you generally don’t get to be a famous wrestler if you’re ugly.

But sometimes it happens anyway.

But sometimes it happens anyway.

And even the ones that aren’t all that great looking in the face generally have rockin’ bods.

Exhibit A.

Exhibit A

And don’t worry, there’s plenty of fine looking chicks, too.

Exhibit B

Exhibit B

So even if you have no idea what the hell is going on, it’ll still be aesthetically pleasing.

2. SOAP-OPERATIC STORYLINES

But if you DO know what’s going on, your enjoyment of the product will shoot up into the sky, past space, and into some alien’s goddamn lap. Everyone knows wrestling storylines can get pretty crazy, and hella complicated.

For instance, a storyline that recently pulled at my heartstrings was the breakup of Team Rhodes Scholars, a tag team who had been competing together on and off for about a year.

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They finally broke up at the Money in the Bank pay per view, when Damian Sandow, (the guy on the left), betrayed Cody Rhodes, (the other guy), by stealing a win from him in one of the most important matches of the night, where they were battling over a shot at the World Heavyweight Championship.

You, the unassuming non-wrestling fan, might have been like, “Oh, that’s messed up. He stole his win.”

Me, the wrestling fan, THE TEAM RHODES SCHOLARS FAN, who had watched them go from

001

to trying to beat the shit out of each other, was heartbroken. Absolutely devastated for the rest of the week night. But having only watched wrestling since April, you may be wondering how I was able to form such a connection. Well…

3a. WRESTLING IS REALLY, REALLY GAY

Like really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, gay.

But still not quite as gay as gay porn.

But still not quite as gay as gay porn.

This really surprised me when I first started watching wrestling because I always thought of it as really macho and assumed the main audience was young, heterosexual men… But then I started really watching wrestling and

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it just gets gayer and gayer

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the more I watch.

3b. TAG TEAMS ARE READY MADE FOR SHIPPING 

Rated RKO.

Rated RKO.

To add onto the gayness, tag teams, a constant in wrestling since 1901, (says Wikipedia), are basically just gay couples who happen to fight together against other gay couples.

When they’re not fighting, they’re either being adorable,

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or being SUPER ADORABLE.

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“Alright, Chey, I’m not into this gay shit,” you may be saying, if you were dropped on your head as a baby. “Is there anything else that’s good about wrestling?”

Luckily for you, there is.

4. COOL MOVES

One of the reasons wrestling is looked down on is because they’re not really beating each other up,* as opposed to sports like MMA or boxing. But since wrestling is more about entertainment than trying to kill each other, there’s more space for moves like this:

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All of that shit looks really cool, and you can enjoy it without the crippling guilt of wondering whether one of those guys will be able to walk tomorrow.

~

So, in conclusion, get off your ass and go start watching some wrestling right now or YOU WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOURSELF

*BUT wrestling is still one of the easiest ways to fuck yourself up forever. While the wrestlers try their best not to injure themselves and each other, injuries do occur, and ridiculous amounts of pain are par for the course. All you have to do is hear wrestlers and doctors describe getting slammed on the mat as enduring a “mini car-crash,” and you’ll understand why many wrestlers over the years have struggled with crippling drug and alcohol addictions.

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Work-Out Journal Monday, Jun 17 2013 

I think the title is pretty self-explanatory. I’ve started working out!

Now, if you’re picturing something like this,

Weight-lifter

 

STOP, because I am in awful shape right now and would die if I tried some shit like that.

But anyway, I do want to get some regular exercise in because that stuff is important, you know? Also, I need to bulk up if I’m ever going to become a professional wrestler.

Look at this guy. I look nothing like that.

Look at this guy. I look nothing like that.

So, because I can’t step out the door without having an adventure, I figured I’d chronicle my path to greatness here on this blog for you all to enjoy.

Day 1

I checked the weather the day before, and next to a big ass picture of a sun were the numbers, ’84.’ 84 flippin’ degrees. Just great.

GREAT FOR DYING.

GREAT FOR DYING.

But I figured, hey, the hotter the better. I’ll sweat away the laziness. I headed over to a big ass steep hill a few blocks away from my house. I started sweating just walking over there, which didn’t bode well.

I jogged up and down the massive hill three times, and then walked for another six blocks or so to the bank, (to get some banking done).  On my way back from the bank, I felt a few drops of rain, which of course turned into a fucking twenty-minute monsoon, most of which I spent huddled inside of a bodega, sheepishly avoiding eye contact with the guy at the counter.

I'd say this is a pretty accurate image of what it looked like outside.

I’d say this is a pretty accurate image of what it looked like outside.

After the rain finally let up, I ran my ass home. I had wanted to trek up the hill a few more times, but I didn’t want to get caught in the rain again.

When I got home, my dad welcomed me by asking, “Why don’t you just run on the treadmill?”

WHAT A FOOL HE IS. The treadmill is really scary. Running on it makes me feel like it’s gonna fall through the floor any second. Who needs that?

Secret death trap.

Secret death trap.