If you ask an adult what to do with a pillow, they’ll probably say something boring like, sleep or lay down. But, man, if you ask a kid? They’ll tell you all kindsa shit: kiss it, hump it; if you’re a girl, pretend you’re pregnant; sneak out the house and put some covers on it. Put it to sleep. Pile drive and tombstone that bitch. Bounce off the ropes, jump off the couch and oh! Elbow drop!
I used to love the WWF (Prime Time Wrestling). I’d get up and manually turn the knob to channel 25? 38? Or was it 56?
Just an ol’ regular guy with Jerry Lawler and Bob Backlund. But look out! For the chicken wing! Tag team with The Bushwhackers, too country and hillbilly–Razor Ramon too tooth-picky and greasy for The Million Dollar Man Ted Dibiase. Hit em with the 2 x 4 Hacksaw Jim Duggan! BAM, BAM! Bigelow too big for the ring like Andre the Giant and Yokozuna; they’ll sit on you! Play it cool like pretty boy Brett The Hitman Hart and his bro Owen Hart, because watch out! He’s got a snake in the bag, Jake the Snake! OH yeah Macho Man Randy Savage–step into a Slim Jim brother, Hulk Hogan. Rip open your shirt! Start Native American dancing around the ring like Tatanka then soar through the air with your beads flying like The British Bulldog Davey Boy Smith! It’s the Royal Rumble! Cage Match, oh! The Ultimate Warrior! Cue the bagpipes and put on your kilt for Roddy Piper! Wrestlemaniaaaaaa forevvvvvaaaaaaaaa arrgroooaaarargghgghgh!
I wasn’t so into The Undertaker, or Gold Dust. WWF Raw. Here comes Black Chyna: it’s not the same anymore. I just couldn’t get into WWE. I was growing up and pretty sore about the whole thing.
I’ve still got my memories though, and I saved the best for last. Look at this guy right here. Just look at ’em.
You can’t beat this shit right here. It’s the Nature Boy WHOO! That’s right! Rick Flair. Look at ’em. Look at this motherfucker right here.
I think he’s considered one of the best pro-wrestlers of all time. I don’t know much about em, and I don’t want to either. He wasn’t even my favorite wrestler of all time until I came across this picture, WHOO! Yes sir.
The bling gold of a massive championship belt resting braggadocio amidst the gaudy feathertry of white boa peacocks and a woman-like dressing gown. The dye job that rinses with just a tinge of trailer park trash yellow instead of blonde, but the chin angled just high enough to denote your peasantry and the fact that he’s still better than you.
WHOO!
I love this picture. I think I’ll have it printed. The Nature Boy WHOO! Rick Flair. It’s one of my favorite pictures ever. Back when they really crafted shit. Made illusions fun.
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