Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Sable Is The Least Sexy Woman In WWE History

Sable had big boobs. I know that may be a weird first sentence to start out a post, but I believe it sums up almost all of the fascination with Sable. She had big boobs. She was also blonde, and although she was pretty, it's not like she stood out (I'm a Sunny guy myself, although even I can't argue that Sable hasn't aged better), especially once wrestling got introduced to women like Torrie Wilson and Stacy Keibler.

Still, Sable was in the right place at the right time with the right boobs to become one of the most popular women in wrestling history. It's honestly impressive as due to her lack of charisma and rhythm, any time she spoke or moved, it immediately turned down her sex appeal. That's why she was perfect for Playboy. Just getting posed, not moving, not saying anything, it was Playboy's best selling issue in over a decade.

Unfortunately, the WWE required her to speak and to move. She actually had a decent catchphrase where she ended all of her promos with, "This is for the men that come to see me, and the women that want to be me." Listen, I know it's not great, but unlike most things Sable, it wasn't awful.

But let's focus on what happened after that phrase. That is when she introduces us to "The Grind." Remember how I mentioned she had no rhythm? Well, this is all the proof you need:
What...what is that?

I'll admit, when I first watched this, I just kind of felt bad for her. There is no way that movement is comfortable for her, as it pains me just to watch it. Eventually, I got over that uncomfortable feeling and learned to enjoy it. I know the hips are mesmerizing, but the facial expressions are nearly as good. You not only get a chance to see her "Oh" face, but afterwards you also get a sly smile that is just full of self-satisfaction. I was more turned on by Mae Young giving birth to a hand than I am by "The Grind."

If Shakira's hips don't lie, I'm pretty sure Sable's have never told the truth. Imagine having to deal with "The Grind" every day. No wonder Brock Lesnar is so angry. 

Monday, August 7, 2017

I Can No Longer Judge Women

There are positives and negatives to getting older. The negative is obvious in that my body has peaked, and now I'm on the downhill of that athletic peak. I'm doing my best to slow my trip down that hill, but there's no way of stopping it. The positives seem to outweigh that at this point in that I can do what I want, and I'm confident enough in myself to never really worry about what others think. I'm probably smarter now in that I read so many books that I stay a little too woke. I'm able to do this because I'm married, so I no longer need to give a lot of brain power to the opposite sex. In fact, I give so little brain power to women that I can no longer judge them on a surface level.

It's odd, because I used to not only judge women with reckless abandon, but I enjoyed the snap judgment of a woman's value based off nothing more than a glance. The Attitude Era of wrestling was great for me, because I got to see a lot of women with large breasts showing copious amounts of cleavage. I used to watch shitty TV shows just to see hot chicks. I mean, I watched Unhappily Ever After, a show with a talking bunny, just to check out Nikki Cox. And looking up that show, I realized I also watched the show, Pensacola: Wings of Gold to check out hot chicks too. I can guarantee that show sucked ass, but that just goes to show you what a little pervert I was back in the day.

But now, I simply can't judge women's looks. It's not for lack of trying, because I will stare down women, but I genuinely can't figure it out. I look at a woman, and I go through these thoughts, "Is she hot? Eh, probably not...but maybe," and that's where it almost always ends. I probably look like a damn creep, because I stare way harder, but it's all just curiosity, as I have no interest in bedding these women.

And I realize this is sexist behavior. Like, why does it matter how attractive a person is? It shouldn't at all, but I have spent my entire life objectifying women; it's not like I can just stop now. It's just now I can't come to a conclusion.

This is probably good as I can't give value to someone's looks if I am unable to judge them, but it's bad in that I continue to gawk at people like a creep. Luckily, I was never that impressive of a person to begin with, so it's not like it's going to make a significant difference in what people think about me. I just hope they are able to overcome what I cannot and judge me for my looks instead of my (lack of) character.

Wednesday, August 2, 2017

My Mid-Life Crisis

Mid-life crises are always something that made me laugh. Like, what, one day, you realized you were old and needed to get yourself a shitty convertible? That's super sad and unnecessary, especially since convertibles are highly overrated. I was pretty positive that I'd never need to worry about a mid-life crisis of my own, because I don't really care about stuff so there's no big spending spree that I am going to go on. Unfortunately, this past week, I realized that, at the tender age of 32, I might be in the midst of my own mid-life crisis.

Although my crisis does not involve any extravagant purchase. It does involve a couple small purchases, and those couple purchases could turn to a few, could turn to many, could turn to a ridiculous amount of purchases. 

My mid-life crisis is short shorts.

It started a few years ago when I got rid of my basketball shorts and went to shorts at the knee instead of below the knee. Then the shorts went above the knee. Recently, I started folding the waistband over so the shorts raised up just a bit higher on my leg as I found it more comfortable to run since things didn't bounce around in my pockets as much. It was all logical so I didn't see a problem.

It got bad when I found this pair of Puma shorts. This pair was real short, basically the length of boxers. In fact, I wasn't totally sure whether they were boxers or shorts. Like, they seemed like shorts, because they had pockets and a drawstring, but they also had a button for pee hole, and I have never had that on any of my shorts before. Still, they were short shorts, and they had pockets, so I proudly wore them around despite the fact that it made my family uncomfortable. I thought that I wasn't the problem, and they were just jealous that I had such a great pair of legs.

Things only got worse from there. I used to make fun of people who wore those uncomfortably short running shorts. The reason being that if your legs are so weak that they can't fight through a bit of extra fabric, then you've got bigger issues than trying to beat your best mile time. Those guys were the biggest tools on the planet. This past weekend, I found a pair of super short running shorts. These shorts are shorter than any pair of shorts that my wife owns. I knew it was a bad idea, but I also knew that I would love them. So I made the purchase.

The next day I decided to give them a try. Since I have a small waist, I go with a size small shorts to ensure they hug my lower body in all the right places. That next morning they almost seemed shorter than before.  But I was all in, and nothing was going to make me turn back. I ripped off the tags and noticed something that almost made me turn back. Right on the original tag, there it was, "Ladies." My heart sank. Was I really going to wear lady shorts to go running? not only that, but ladies size small shorts. I hemmed, I hawed, and then I said fuck it, let's do this shit. 

I went running in tiny lady shorts, and it was GLORIOUS. I felt lighter on my feet, and I loved looking down to see my gorgeous legs almost fully exposed with each passing step. It had a nice little zip up pocket in the back where I was able to put my key and iPod. Overall, it was just an incredible experience, and I look forward to more adventures in my teeny, tiny shorts. I know it's weird; I know it will make others uncomfortable, but I can't help the way I feel. I love short shorts.

So, ladies, watch out. Not only will you see me flashing some major leg, but if you've got your eyes on the last pair of hot pink shorts at the store, you better be quick, because this mid-life crisis shows no signs of slowing down.