When I was growing up, we, as a family, would travel to a nearby state most summers. Many families do this, I know. So far not a compelling story.
We were not a wealthy family – we had relatives who lived near the water, and the vacation was extremely reasonable. One night, however, we would go – all of us, which totaled two tables normally – cousins, grandparents, etc. – to a restaurant. It was the same seafood restaurant, and we would have a nice meal. Grandfather’s treat, every summer. Again, so far not a "grant-like" story.
Then, when I was a teenager, we noticed a new message on the magnetic sign under the name of the “non chain” restaurant: MUD WRESTLING WED. Here this family-friendly restaurant was hosting mud-wrestling contests each Wednesday evening.
I really did not know much about mud-wrestling, and, unfortunately, here is where the story ends. We probably could not have attended the “performances” since we were less than eighteen. Well, grandfather was older than 18. So were our parents. But taking us there would probably have been classified as “contributing to the delinquency of minors.” So instead, we turned 18, went to college, and became delinquents that were legally responsible for our actions. I am guessing corrupting minors has less of a downside, from the legal perspective. Well, except that you are breaking laws, morals and standard decency. Our world is so much of a give-take, and sometimes you have to break a few eggs in order to make a good cake. How is that for a mixed trite metaphor?
And this mud-wrestling scenario got me to thinking, “I could never be a professional mud-wrestler or a porn “actress” because of a condition I have: OCD. A few weeks ago, I was chatting with someone who will remain nameless about mud-wrestling as a means of dispute resolution (that has a side benefit of generating cash flow). And I would absolutely suck at mud wrestling for the following reasons:
1. I don’t like getting dirty, and because of this discomfort, I am not sure I would whole-heartedly engage in the effort.
2. I don’t like my hair being pulled. As much as I delude myself in believing I am a bad-ass, I am a bit of a wimp and I don’t like my hair being pulled. I can see making a rule about not hair-pulling, but I am also very competitive, and if I was not wrestling a Catholic nun, I am fairly certain I would be pulling out hair by the fistfuls.
3. I am modest. Although I have never seen mud wrestling, I am fairly certain that the uniform involves bikinis, string-bikinis. And once my top was pulled off, I am sure I would be clutching my breasts with my hands. So I would have muddy, yucky hair plastered to my breasts. How attractive would that be?
4. I am strong for a girl, but let’s face it, I have a limited reach. If my reach is less than my opponent, she has the advantage. So my top would be coming off first, even if I were trying to scalp her because of my competitiveness and lack of ethics.
That being said, at least I don’t think the police would bother me. I mean, I don’t want to introduce handcuffs into the equation.
I would want to be able to pick my own opponent. I was looking at the blogs I normally read, and wanted to tell you whose female ass I could kick. And looking over the list, I am sorry to say that I would probably lose to them all. Unless ~deb trips first. I have heard that she is quite a klutz. Perhaps if I get her drunk first. Either that, or I need to find a patsy and train with prata. I hear prata excels at causing maximum pain with minimum effort.
10 hours ago