Ok so I don’t want to do a run down on Raw because I can’t pay non-stop attention to nonsense for three straight hours. And yes I know I probably just pissed off a lot of you with that statement, but I have a life. What I will do is give you some of my random thoughts on wrestling though. I can see you all sitting on the edge of your seats wondering what pearls of inspiration will fall from my ruby lips, I know my husband does ;).
I want to preface this with telling you I did not grow up a wrestling fan despite my formative years lining up with the attitude era like an eclipse that comes once in a lifetime.
I had encountered bits and pieces of it; like I had seen Stone Cold’s shirt with the Austin 3:16 on it but being the devil fodder bad Catholic I am, I actually mistook it for a biblical passage. I had heard of a can of Whoop Ass but was baffled by how that fit into anyone’s life. My earliest memory of wrestling was a childhood friend who was obsessed with someone called Hulk Hogan who dressed like a transvestite and while it is always fun to dress your guy friends up in girl’s clothing it creeped me out.
I only gave wrestling a chance because I was the world’s most awesome girlfriend. My boyfriend and now husband had the most unhealthy obsession with it. At this point I know you are like “What?! You dated and then married a man you knew had an open obsession with wrestling? Are you nuts?!” Well I do like to live life in the fast lane and experience the cult cultures of the world so this was right up my alley. I took it upon myself to actually listen while he babbled on about the history of wrestling instead of daydreaming. Slowly I started to sort out the Bret Hart’s from the Sexy Boy’s and I started to earn the surprised respect from my intended love target. If I am completely honest I still could have cared less about all of it and most of it didn’t make a lick of sense to me, I was just trying to make it so the boy with the gorgeous blue eyes would never be able to live without me. Yes I am a devious female super villain in the same league as Catwoman, and Poison Ivy. I used brainwashing techniques and not just my bewitching good looks to capture my prey and one of my most effective techniques was wrestling and spraying my perfume on his pillows so he would miss me when I left.
At this point in my article my husband is protesting about my portrayal of him as a wrestling obsessed fan boy. My response to this is: if you can’t tell by now that my writing is over the top then you have taken too many “do not try this at home” superkicks to the face. No he wasn’t and isn’t that obsessed with wrestling this was just the confused recollections of an outsider who didn’t know wrestling from boxing.
Now that I have preserved my husbands ego let’s get back to my story. I can’t really remember who was big at the time I actually started watching shows with Matt. I vaguely remember Rey Mysterio because he was a luchador and what is more cult culture than wrestling? Lucha! I remember thinking Randy Orton was very evenly proportioned and that I just couldn’t understand the appeal behind John Cena. I remember the start of C.M. Punk’s rise and my husband being excited because he had so much potential. As well as WWE picking up Daniel Bryan and Matt saying “he could be huge if WWE would just give him a chance because he is amazing in the ring but they are so in love with huge guys that I doubt he will get a push.” So all of you fan boys now know exactly the time frame that I began watching.
It is now ten o’clock at night and I have turned into a pumpkin which means if I stay up any later writing this than my husband will wake up to Ogre Wife, a very unflattering and confrontational version of myself we all try to avoid. Which all translates to this becoming a multi-part article. So dear reader I now leave you on the edge of your seat wanting more just like when any good guy gets maliciously jumped by a heel and is left for dead in the middle of the ring.
