It’s no secret that I love wrestling.
I’ve been a wrestling fan for 22 years, and an honorary member of the Baby Oil Boys’ Club since 2010.
I hate it when people dismiss wrestling as being “fake.” You know what’s fake? “Gossip Girl.” Now THAT shit is fake. Go drown in your Haagen Daaz, women. I also hate it when they deride it as a showcase for “sweaty men in spandex rolling around in each other’s arms.”
There’s a technical term for that, you know. It’s called a gogoplata.
Growing up, I wanted to be a wrestler. I dreamt of being the first ever Filipino WWE wrestling champion, the Manila Mauler. So every once in a while, I tune in to this YouTube channel called “How To Wrestle,” and try to pick up tips on how to pull off the fabulous, death-defying stunts I get to see the likes of Dolph Ziggler, CM Punk, and Daniel Bryan do on a weekly basis.
It’s cool stuff, but I really do feel sorry for these guys.
They claim to be professional wrestlers. But how seriously are we supposed to take their lessons, when one dude looks like Seth Rogen’s midget doppelganger…
…and the other looks like Daughtry?
I’m happy they’re out there pursuing their dreams in such a public way. More power to you, guys, and may you be fruitful and multiply.
But seriously. If we’re setting the bar this low for professional wrestling trainers, then I might as well be publishing tutorials of my own.
Now where did I put those damn Speedos…