I wasn't really sure I wanted to blog about this, but I decided "What the hell." It wasn't like I had visited a strip club and watched nubile bimbos frolicking in cherry jello, right?
I just went to a WWE event. That's World Wrestling Entertainment in case you didn't know -- uh huh, pro wrestling. More than half of it is totally fake and I don't even care, you know why?
First of all, there are amazingly muscular men flinging each other around like rag dolls. Most of them aren't so bad looking. You know, really, a couple of them are down-right hotties. And don't take MY word for it. There are plenty of other women in the audience who think so too. Here are just a few reasons why women would subject ourselves to 3 hours of such a display of testosterone: John Cena, Triple H, Jeff Hardy, Chris Jericho, and Brian Kendrick.
Also, they give money away to their fans!!! Sure, contests and sweepstakes aren't anything new but WWE owner, Vince McMahon, is unloading MILLIONS every week! How's that marketing ploy for capturing loyalty?
Did I mention there are hot, toned men?
And finally, something many people might not know, it's one giant sports soap opera! Who'da thunk it? Back stabbers and rivalries and bastard children interwoven into this sweaty mess. So the next time someone gives you grief for watching daytime television, grab your championship belt, and give em the old pedigree or figure 4!!
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