28 cheerfully administered noogies

hey birkwelch...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Yesterday kinda blew goats on many levels, but there were several very good things about it as well, starting with getting to wake up next to morlock (god, that man's pretty in a ray of morning sunshine), and followed, at varying points of the day, by things like a good session with the head doc, an excellently executed ham and cheese wrap for lunch, and at the very end of the day, teh watching of teh burly men in tight pants flinging each other around and out of the ring.

Some observations on last night's wrassling:

• If I could have one bizarre wish granted, I want a calendar with selected WWE stars lounging around in suits. Some of those men can rock custom tailoring like nobody's business.
  
• Kurt Angle's match with Val Venis featured the single most homosexual position evar. And why was he pontificating about being an American to a BRITISH crowd? (they were in Sheffield last night) Dumbass.
  
• There should be a cap on how many feathers you're allowed to wear if you insist on identifying as a straight male, just so Ric Flair can overshoot it.
  
• Does Triple H ice his nipples before stalking out into the arena? Cause yikes, them things are pointeh.
  
• JBL: the Art of Manly Pouting. Seriously. Watch the man in character sometime. As if he needed to be any goofier. sydneycat and I were speculating hilariously on the probability that they need to rent a white limo and dress it up wherever they go in the horns and the decals. I'm sure they make JBL check the horns on international flights.

Well, time to drink water, stave off the headache threatening to start with me, and go do rest-of-my-day stuff.

Screw this

Fuck PMS.
Fuck today.
Fuck tonight.
Fuck tomorrow.
Fuck this weekend.
Fuck my dodgy internet.
Fuck this goddamn cough.
Fuck everyone and everything.

I'm going to bed.