once upon a time there was a little girl who liked to watch pro wrestling. she and her little brother ached for saturday mornings... just for the few moments of bliss they felt whenever hulk hogan stepped into the ring. there was also that weird feeling she got in her woo woo area whenever shawn michaels claimed another kissing victim. ::shiver::

that little girl has grown up. and she still dedicates her monday, thursday and once a month on sunday nights to keeping up with her soap opera on steroids. shawn michaels still sports the pink and black like a champ... but the woo woo area tingles now center around a newly short-haired christian and a white boy who can't rap. but that is besides the point.

this now big girl likes her wrestling. stop making fun of her for it. true, it's lame and fake and very silly. but what on television isn't? and true, it's violent and sexist (two things that this girl has a big problem with). but she puts that aside for a few hours to indulge her inner demons.

i'm jealous because i can't wear spandex in public anymore without being scoffed at... let alone hot pink spandex. i'm jealous cause i can't jump around and be all acrobatic anymore without people thinking i'm on crack. and i'm jealous that i can't coin myself a cool name and a bad attitude without being called a bitch.

i like wrestling. i like being loud and rude and belligerent while i watch my wrestling. i like having people watch it with me who get into it as much as i do. i like eating fried and fatty foods and drinking beer as i sit my fat ass in front of the television and no one is going to convince me that it's lame and uncool and something i should stop doing.

werd life.