Win Some, Lose Boobs

Before bed last night I was brushing my teeth and couldn’t help but notice I had reverted to 14 again. I turned to the side with my brush still vibrating and noticed the little bumps where my boobs used to be. I even lifted up my shirt thinking “surely I’m not that flat.” I felt better when I went Girls Gone Wild on myself but was still slightly ashamed.

I started thinking about my old body in comparison to my “new” body. In high school I had big boobs by the time I was in 8th grade. I had a C cup for as long as I can remember and they only got bigger if I got bigger. Eventually I was hovering between a full C to small D.  I dug this gem up as proof that I am not lying.


Mind you my cheeks and other such body parts were also a little more full but at least I had my womanly parts. Now that I eat an extremely healthy diet and exercise regularly, those womanly parts have started to fade into memory. I still have a large rump that is increasingly more round and firm but alas, the bosoms that once graced my chest and filled out dresses are no longer.

The more I thought about this the more I started wondering; what would I sacrifice for the “perfect” body? What is the perfect body?

For me the ideal body would consist of a 36-37 inch hip with a nice round booty. Much like Ms. Latona’s:


My arms would be toned without looking too veiny or masculine but without being flexed you could tell I hit the gym. My legs would have ZERO cellulite and always be tan and my abs would have the outline of a 4-pack. Finally, my boobs would be a perky 34C that were never affected by any weight goals.

Unfortunately, that ain’t happening and I can’t afford implants. Not to mention, I have only ever heard horror stories from anyone I’ve known with them.
Because perfect bodies can’t be ordered online, there must be some sacrifices you make to obtain as close to perfect as you like. With the more toned my abs get will I care less about the absences of breasticles? If my could fill out blue pants like Amanda Latona’s, would I not mind so much that I had only a 2-pack set of abs?

I tried convincing myself this was the case because I the loss of my chest mass I have also lost significant fat on my legs. If anyone knows me, they know my legs have and probably always will be my #1 problem area.  To see results in an area I have struggled with my whole life was extremely gratifying and kind of negated my boob-encholy. I mean they make push up bras and padded swimsuits now of which I own both.


The struggle I had in coping with my changing body was remember a time when I had them. They were a focal point, they were nice and they got compliments all on their own. I was never offended and I actually liked the attention they brought. Not in whorey way…well kind of. :)

Now that my best friends have long since abandoned me, I’m grieving their loss and it sucks. I’m trying to convince myself that my new friend, Assandra, will take their place. She’s a great gal and brings all the boys to the yard but instead of the front yard where I can see them, they’re hanging out back. I’ve also gained another great friend, Abby. She’s super awesome and makes my stomach look great in my push-up swim suit.

I suppose everyone goes through some type of metamorphosis where they sacrifice something from their past, chubster life in pursuit of their skinnier one.
P.S. can we please discuss I spent an entire blog complaining about getting in shape and skinnier? This is probably where I need to admit that I’m still a full B and sometimes a small C if the padding is sufficient enough.


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Judging Adele and Brussel Sprouts

It’s so cliche but the saying “don’t judge a book by it’s cover” is a powerful statement. For the longest time I was doing this toward brussel sprouts and judging them by their putrid green exterior. Although not green and leafy I was equally as judgemental toward Adele. Maybe it was the fact that she is 4 months my junior and 4 times more successful but I wanted to sit in a bath-tub full of my own blood when I heard her music.

Ok, so maybe that’s a bit harsh but her music reminded me of how I felt when Coldplay first came out; depressed. I didn’t get it and aside from jamming out to some “Rumor Has It,” I wasn’t a major fan.

In watching some Chelsea Lately interviews as I so love to do, I found Adele’s. Husband face and I kind of love Chelsea. I find her hilarious and he finds her hilarious and insanely hot. In any case if the interivew with Adele’s was a major flop, we figured Chelsea would liven it up.


How Adele Won Me Over 

  • She embarasses those who do her wrong – don’t want a song about you made into an international hit? Don’t fuck Adele.
  • She has a specific English accent – she has the one where she pronounces “ths” with an “f” and it’s amazing.
  • She’s hilarious
  • She ran over P Diddy in a golf cart
  • She colored her hair “Ginger Biscuit”

If you’re out there bored in your lovely London flat, Adele, and you’ve just so happened to stumble my way, can we please be friend?!

Unfortunately, the reaction I had toward brussel sprouts was not as joyous. I love a good bandwagon and as of lately I have been hearing about “oven-roasted brussel sprouts.” I don’t recall ever liking them but any thing oven-roasted adds a magical flavor that could probably make cat shit edible. On a mission to be one of those healthy fucks that walks around snacking on brussel sprouts, I covered them in garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper and roasted them for 30 minutes. They looked pretty scrumptious plus I was running late for work so I packed ‘em up.

The first one went down pretty well. For the most part it tasted similar to oven-roasted broccoli. I trucked on to the second one which was a little bit more dry on the inside and slightly bitter. I got to the 3rd and chewed on it until I realized I was stalling to avoid having to swallow. Pun.

It was a valiant effort but there are some much needed changes that need to be made to these fart flavored balls.  They do have potential but need some TLC.

How to Brussels Turned me Off

  • They are huge and thick. Cut them in half before making them. They are too thick and solid to cook all the way through without desecrating the exterior
  • They are bland so add spices
  • They are versatile and can be made several different ways
  • Don’t eat a ton. If this is your first rodeo take it easy.

Ultimately, it’s Friday and stinky balls can never get me down on a Friday.

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Best Way to Cheat

I was reading Self magazine the other day, the one celebrating Demi Lovato’s blonde hair and sobriety, when I came across a “celeb diet secrets.” The article detailed different health tips given by Kelly Ripa, Pink, Jennifer Aniston and a few other sculpted ladies of Tinsletown. Each woman had a tip but Self magazine insisted only some tips were worth a steal and others were complete garbarge.


Despite the micro penis she sprouted, Kelly Ripa was one of the gals Self supported. Ripa’s advice was that she doesn’t doent but instead she feels moderation is what’s key.  Believe it or not, this bitch’s guilty pleasure is french fries. I’m with you, I don’t believe that for a second. Unless Kelly is hoarding them at her house and staring at them dreaming of the day she will eat one then doing a few more pull-ups instead, then she’s lying.

Even ifsheisn’t using this or even if she is, it basically means taht instead of forbidding foods causing you to crave them more, you should induldge a little bit throughout the week. Self magazine even went as far as suggesting indulging in small delights of 200-300 calories all week long.


I did this last week by saying a mini-butterfinger ain’t no thang. I followed that up by saying some Doritos at the company party is a fantastic idea even if I haven’t eaten them in years. Needless to say I did not sprout an outie bellybutton or muscles of any type. Instead, my scale started rising and I started feeling really shitty about myself.

The only problem is, if this isn’t your method in staying sane while eating healthy, the opposite isn’t either. This would be when yo clean eat all week, all day and then designate a carb-o, warb-o fatty fat day. You wake up and eat pancakes. You wait an hour and eat bacon. You want that mac’n cheese? You dominate that mac’n cheese! All those times you wanted to eat like shit on Monday and Wednesday or even on the treadmill, live them out right now.


At least this is bad for me. I have found it very difficult in the first 2 day of eating healthy after a naughty day of binging, very difficult. It is a lot easier for me to have a small treat then bounce back for dinner and be healthy again.

So where the hell is the middle ground here?

SOLUTION: Establish what a treat means to you. This can be a glass of wine, this can be froyo, this can be brown rice past 8p.m. No matter what it is you need to decide your own treats. Kelly Ripa might be able to pack away a super-sized meal but that’s because her body is 98% muscle and gets burned off in her walk back to the car. You, however; might not be so lucky. If you can get away with having a piece of chocolate cake tonight, some wine on Thursday and a bagel Friday morning, go for it! If you might slip into a diabetic coma following these habits, I’d skip them and opt for meals that you can get away with eating and indulge that naughty side.

Here are some of my cheats that won’t turn me into a lard-cake:

Publix Low-Fat frozen Berry Granola Yogurt
Pita chips and hummus (copious amounts of this)
Pizza (2 slices)
Low-fat 3 cheese ranch dressing
Tortilla chips and salsa or guacamole
Dove chocolate (I have to be careful if I have access to the whole bag/candy bowl)

Put some thought into it and let me know…what are some of your guilty pleasures?

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Sports Make You Fat

No, a wrestler didn’t body slam me in Miami and hold me hostage until now. I have officially made it through the most exhausting weekend of all time and back to slave labor working in a cubicle. I spent last weekend in Miami’s heat, walking, gawking and doing all things Wrestlemania. For those of you not already versed in my guilty pleasure, take a gander at why I fell for wrestling.

Plus, who doesn’t love an event called “Hell in a Cell?”

Trips, vacations, staycactions and pretty much any time not spent at work (weekends are my vacations), there is always the concern or excitement that you get to eat total shit. No, I was not munching on feces because it’s “all natural,” but was more referring to the garbage served thats quick and convenient when wrestling events take precedence.

Our weekend started on Thursday evening when both of us dipped out of work early. Dinner was something healthy I made (please, I can’t remember that far back) and all was well in the world. Friday morning we had the usual breakfasts we nourish ourselves with and feasted at Panera for lunch. Friggin’ love that place. Then dinner came… We stayed at husband face’s dad’s house in Vero Beach and needless to say, it’s not stocked with anything. It’s the guy’s 2nd house so there is some spam in the far corners of the cabinets, some ketchup and a full liquor shelf.
Our plan was to make wheat pasta with some generic sauce over it but that lasted about 30 seconds.

Me: Ok so we’ll watch Community then I’ll make dinner?
H-face: Yeah, that works.  Well…you don’t have to cook. Let’s just get something to pick up.
Me: But I don’t want to leave the house…pizza?
H-Face: Hi, can I get a large cheese and veggie? Cool, thanks.

It was decent but it’s Vero Beach pizza. The kind that isn’t made properly and doesn’t need to meet the tastebud standards as city-pizza does for the drunk-Os at 3a.m. The older and healthier I have gotten, the worse reactions I have to “shitty food.” Call it a blessing but it’s a GD curse when your cravings are taking over your body like a ferocious disease. When the “shitty” food is really good like NY Style pizza or cheesecake, I’ll sacrifice a grumbling 2-hour stomache ache for the delight of the fat. When it ends up not being worth it, I really want to kill someone.

Saturday morning we left Vero for Miami and were able to squeeze in one last healthy meal. By the time we got to Miami we were already set to attend our first event: Axxess. Essentially this is an overpriced, glorified convention center filled with cool wrestling shit. They had 6-7 wrestlers throughout the day that you could get a 7 second handshake from, but the lines were longer than Harry Potter World. Needless to say, we didn’t have much of a food selection there either and muscled through the crowds for “beef patties” and fries. Delicious. 1 hour later = atrocity.
After the thrill of that event passed, we passed the crack dealers and bolted for the hotel that was strategically located about 10 minutes from where Wrestlemania would be held the next day. The problem? That was about 45 minutes (thanks to Miami traffic) from where we were. If that weren’t long enough, a monsoon typical Florida shower occurred causing even further delay.
Finally, we got to the hotel we booked on Priceline for half the normal price. On top of that, we got an upgrade for no reason known to either of us. After leaning over the hotel check-in counter for 30 minutes, we made it to the room where we collapsed into a 1-hour coma. Woke up , showered, got ready, and headed back down to Miami Beach for the Hall of Fame Ceremony.

Both of us had passed the beef patty meal so naturally it was dinner time but somehow found ourselves in an arena again. Chicken fingers, fries and honey mustard for dinner it is. Delicious. End of the ceremony = green in the face.
Fast-forward to Sunday where breakfast was dandy but the meals to follow were what I assume John Goodman throws back, daily.
We each had two slices of the biggest, greasest and cheesiest pizza of all time followed by diet cokes and Gatorade. Dinner of champions. No, why would that be enough food for two midgets?

Maybe the weekend fat intake had clogged the receptors in our brain that help with logic because we were sure nachos and cookies would be a great after dinner snack.
Finally, at 11p.m. we scurried out of the stadium, to the car and onto the expressway in approximately 10 minutes flat. The idea to drive back to Vero that night sounded great when it was an idea. With 40lbs of food in our bellies and soon, our butts, not so much. At approximately 1a.m. we arrived at the beach haven to pass the fuck out.
Monday morning came and went. Then we woke up. Either we were exhausted or the consumption of toxic waste reset our internal clocks to 11a.m.
It was offical; we made it through the driving, through the food and through the bickering. Well, almost through the bickering. What’s a ride back to Orlando without on ignoring contest?
So this post is a lot longer than I anticpated but I haven’t written anything than a passive-aggressive client email in days.
I mentioned this to H-face who understood but explained that healthy food can’t be an option at stadiums. The kind of people who attend events held there have a certain expectation that the traditional $8 hot dog will be fried, no less. It makes sense but certainly ruins the hard work I’ve been doing at the gym and in the kitchen, what we call an epic fail. Unless you avoid stadium food altogether, it’s not likely you will find anything under 500 calories. There are some ways, however; to make better attempts so you don’t completely destroy your regimen or that bangin’ bod.
Ways to Avoid Gaining 100lbs. at Sporting Events
1. Don’t overeat: Instead of eating 2 slices of pizza, a coke and a Bavarian pretzel, why don’t you dial it back there a second and think of what you would be eating if you were home. Choose one hotdog or try splitting something with a friend. If you came alone then I don’t know what to tell you.
2. Keep it Boring: The more bland and boring your order is, the better it will be for you. Sure, you might be pouting when you eat your naked weiner but it’s better than pouting, naked, in front of the mirror. Order a burger, hold the fries and add your own condiments.
3. Eat Before You Go: If you eat at home you will make better choices and save some mula. Out of groceries? Meet your friends beforehand at a restaurant. Most restaurants will have much healthier options, be more accomodating to your annoying “skinny” requests and you’ll get more for your money.
It’s great to splurge every now and then but not for an entire weekend. Anyone else experience an event or place that literally forced them to eat complete rubbish?

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Love What You Loathe

I would venture to say there is at least one thing we don’t particularly like about our appearance.
Maybe some of use would love a free, painless nose job to rid the hump. Maybe others would like Velashape to ask us to be their spokesmodel and in turn give us free fat suction treatments…or whatever they offer. No matter your woe, most of us can at least relate to the feeling of being insecure.
For those of you who are “comfortable in their own skin” and love every inch of yourself, please try this fat free, calorie free, Double Bacon Ranch Deep-Fried Burger. So good right? Have more, they’re also free of charge.

I’ve been wanting to write about this topic for quite some time. Mainly because when I look in the mirror I have things I pick apart. I don’t want to take all of you down with me and say you’re the same, but it’s safe to say many people have body insecurities. Secret: that’s ok! On most days I am very confident in myself and secure in the way I look. I’m a size 6 pant, 4 dress and 130lbs and trust me it took me a long time to be ok with posting that information on the internet. But I still have those days when I break down in front of Husband Face who has no clue has happened to his lovely wife. Of course, learning to look past that is the “right thing to do” and that’s what picks you up off of the bathroom floor when you’ve been weeping for 3 hours, but sometimes all that does is distract us from the thing that still remains.

For instance, the two things about my body I am insecure about are my butt/legs (consider these the same…I failed Anatomy class), and my nose.

My butt is quite shapely along with my legs. Always have been and judging by photos of Omi (German for grandma) in the 60s, looks like that ain’t changing. In recent years I have tried to make changes to them and over time, slowly, it works. But still, they continue to be my number 1 problem area. Somehow I can count my abs when I flex (only a few but I’ll take it) and can still count the dimples of my ass cheeks. Please send TMI emails to me privately.
Another thing I don’t like about myself or am insecure about is my nose. It’s big and birdy like a hawk or an eagle. No supermodel has ever been complimented with the words “you’re so beautiful, like an eagle.”  I was even hoping that when I recently fractured it, the Doc would offer 50% off rhinoplasty. Still haven’t gotten a call back.

As I’ve gotten older and come to terms with my appearance, I come to love these features. I know, it sounds a little nutto but hear me out.

When I first meet people I always get the same “You don’t look American, where are you from? You have such an exotic look!” I’m sure it can’t all be attributed to my sniffer but I would venture to say not a lot of all-American beauties have even half of the nose I do. Therefore, I stand out. I started taking this as a compliment and being proud that I look different than blue eyed, slope nose over here.

Sorry, Carrie, I had to make you seem a least a little dumb. In all honesty I started accepting my nose for what it was and even delcared that my face wouldn’t look good with a smaller nose. My nose is proporitonate with all other features on my face so changing that would cost a ton of dough and leave me like Jennifer Grey. Plus, aren’t we all trying to be different from each other through our lifestyle choices, hair, clothes and accessories? Why would I want to pay to look like the masses when I spend so much time trying not to?
As for my stinker. Ok, sorry, definitely too far. My bumble and my legs for that matter, I am still working on being more accepting of them.
The 1 person I can thank for my recent surge in confidence, however; is Ms. Kim Kardashian. Before the glitz, glam and botox, Kim was once an insecure, curvy, beauty. She had an ass and hated it. But, as the world got to know her and men got over the emaciated phase of Hollywood starlets, they started paying attention to the buxom brunette.
I am in no way comparing myself to Kim but started to tell myself “Sarah, big asses are in right now. Ride the wave.” Somehow, it worked! I started seeing girls with no asses and feeling quite blessed to have mine. It may be large but I have one and it fills out a dress quite nicely. Plus, I don’t have to spend money on those panties they make with built-in butts. If that’s not proof that their an accessory, I don’t know what is.
The more I started embracing my tail feather, the more compliments I got. No, men were not squeezing it but women would comment on it’s shape. No it’s not perfect but I am less ashamed of it’s presence as I once was. It’s like the confidence I was exuding made others believe that it’s an admirable rear. I guess you could say I’m an ass wizard! Totally adding that one to the resume.
If you struggle with a feature you don’t particularly like or would pay someone to spill acid on it so you could get it fixed, try something a little different. Start looking at the feature as something unique rather than a burden. This isn’t supposed to be a pretending exercise but rather less harsh view of your body as it is today or until it gets to where you want it to be. Having a hard time? Here are a few solutions to help you get started.
How To Love Your Hated:
Side Boob Fat – this means your boobs are large and in charge. Some of us don’t have that luxury and just think if yours were gone too.
Cellulite - research shows that 90% of women suffer from this terrible and wretched disease. This is an instance where it’s ok to want to be like the masses.
Chubby Cheeks – for some reason this tends to give a youthful look. here’s to being carded 10 extra years!
Start loving what you hate and just see what happens. I’m confident you’ll be happy with what happens. WARNING: Do not attempt to explain this to your husbands. The outcome will having you downing a sheet cake by dinner.

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By Monday I was Exhausted

Every day this week I have been consistently tired. Generally, the week starts off with birds singing, flowers turning their faces toward the sun and me skipping off to work. The week usually ends with me shooting birds, doubling up on sunglasses and driving slowly to work…very slowly.

Starting Monday, I woke up extremely exhausted and it only got worse as the week went on. I didn’t sleep any less than usual or stay up like a rockstar so not too sure what the dealy-o is. By the way, I just tried to spell the word “sure” like “shir.” I’m so tired, I want to cry.

I had to start asking myself what changed between last week and this week. Because I had some mad time to kill at work today, I looked up some major reasons one may feel fatigued or so tired they might murder someone.

According to 10 reasons you may feel tired are:

1. Undiagnosed heart disease – jeezus! We just hit the ground running on that one. Well being that I don’t or don’t think I have a fatal disease in my ticker, I’m nixing that one.

2. Sleep Apnea  – I’m like a hibernating demon when I sleep so I’m going to rule this one out. I actually pride myself in falling asleep very quickly and being able to stay asleep for a solid 7-8. Infact, I actually lie and yell when anyone disturbs me during this comatose state, to ensure all my zzZZZzzs are accounted for.

3. Depression – the only depressing thing about me is that I’m so tired right now. That depresses me which I guess makes me tired and more depressed. Fuck, this one may be the sweet spot.

4. Diabetes - I don’t want to joke about this one too much, but then again, I kinda do. At the company Brunch Potluck this morning I threw back a donut, a pancake, a waffle, syrup on all of that, mini donuts, a mini-eclair and other silent killers, but I’m alive. Unless this fatigue is a sign that I’m about to go into a diabetic seizure, I don’t think I have that.

5. Thyroid Problems  – I’m glad to blame my thyroids on many things like my chunky bum but aside from this week I haven’t had a problem with exhaustion therefore I don’t want to jump the gun and blame them for yet another thing. I’m kidding about my thryoids causing weight gain in my nethers. I’m 130lb. It’s a joke.

6. Deficiencies in Key Nutrients – ding ding ding! We may have a winner here! We’ll come back to numero 6 in a bit.

7. Anemia  – No.

8. How much you exercise – ugh…yeah, add this one too the list to.

9. How much you sleep – If you can be exhausted from receiving the mathmatical equivilant to perfect sleeping hours then sure but I don’t think so. I’m really good at sleeping.

10. What you eat  – Boom. That would be el numero uno.

The week before this past, and the one before that, I was doing a fantastic job sticking to my meal plan and gym schedule. I started seeing small but noticeable changes internally as well as externally. My stomach wasn’t grumbling like it had eaten a grenade and it looked a bit tighter, even when I wasn’t flexing. Then, the worst thing ever happened. My discipline left my body, levitated above me and ordered a pizza. Even though that pizza was insanely amazing and hit the spot, the next day I woke up feeling hungover. How? I hadn’t had a stiff one in days and even then it was 4 oz of wine.
Then I realized that all the sodium I wasn’t used to was in those 3 pieces of pizza (oh I can throw ‘em back). The sodium levels dehydrated my body leaving me with overwhelming dry mouth and that hungover feeling. Honestly, I was kiiiiind of scared. I felt a victim to pizza date rape; it took advantage of naiive Sarah and I had no clue until it was over.

Sure, I know of the whole “you are what you eat” concept but suffice it to say this was my first time experiencing it with full realization that it was happening.
This week was only a testament to that when the crappy food made it’s way into my life on an every other day basis. By the time the carb-o-licious  brunch potluck came to work on Friday, the flood gates had been busted and carried away with the fat ass river that was carening toward me. Translation: I ate like shit. I haven’t eaten that shitty in a very long time and I felt disgusting. The worst part is, I felt disgusting as it was happening but thought what the hell. A little heart disease never hurt anyone!
Once I stopped to think why I felt so tired last week, I started piecing it together that my body has become very sensitive to garbage foods. It was trying to send me warning signs (e.g. exhaustion, falling asleep during spin class which is actually a true event, and even bloating my stomach into it’s 2nd trimester). If there was ever a time I am more committed to eating clean, it’s now. It was a wake up call that I didn’t think I needed but it’s going to help me stay on track when I get a garbage food craving. I’m hoping it will work a lot like flashbacks of a terrible experience I had. I fall into a daydream of calzones and ice cream then fall into a cold sweat remembering extra dimples in my ass that fateful week.
It’s Saturday now (I was too tired to finish this post yesterday) and I’m ready for getting back into clean eating. I have a new fitness/eating plan that I can’t wait to try out. I’m sure I’ll be complaining writing about it periodically to annoy all of you.

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Confession: I’m A Wrestling Fan

I know I promised this yesterday but I had a surprisingly busy but delightful day. An event I am attending at the end of March has me wondering when or if I should blog about it. I will be gone for about 4 days and when I return will have much to say, pictures to post and stories to tell. Being that it will be Grade-A, prime blogging material, I have decided to tell you.

My name is Sarah…and I LOVE pro-wrestling.

Not sure about that skinny ho but I’m just hungry. I may have been embarassed when the realization first set in about 2 years ago but no longer do I hang my head in shame and here’s why.

1. It’s Entertaining – If you think I seriously watch WWE for the real-life drama that happens, please jump in front of traffic. The shit is insanely entertaining. I also have what I think is pent-up anger issues and love watching people beat the shit out of eachother. This may also be why I love MMA, loved the Fighter/Warrior and of course love wrestling.
I completely get that a lot of the moves are not harmful and are infact fake, however making it look real is entertaining and sometimes those mofos actually do take insane hit or fall. Case in point; I can name several wrestlers that have broken a bone or torn a muscle because of an unexpected move they decided to take or make.

2. It’s Got History - I’m not a huge history buff but I am a fan of times I was not present in aka any time before 1988. Being that my husband is the numero uno wrestling fan in the house and knows literally everything about it, I have learned that there is much more than watching Monday Night Raw. In fact, these are the shows we watch least. Ever since I started to show interest in it, Husband face has been adamant about showing me documentaries from when it first started or that were created around 1 specific person/wrestler. These appeal to both of us because the shit that happens outside the ring or in the locker room and never makes it on air, is the best and juciest stuff to watch. Plus we all know I am a drama, gossip fiend so naturally I am drawn to it.

This guy for instance, runs a wrestling school in his basement where he trained all of his sons. Even his daughters have been involved in the business in some capacity. You may have heard of his most acclaimed spawn, Bret “the Hitman” Hart. If not…Wiki it.

3. It’s Got Beefcakes – I’m not a muscles girl; never have been and never will be. While I can appreciate a God-like physique, it’s never been a make or break for me.
But still, I am human and I am female and these men are in sick shape. Not to mention, a lot of them are actually pretty attractive.

What’s that guys? There are only men to oogle over? False. Despite it being completely boring, there is a segment of every show that focuses on the WWE Diva and they have their own hair-pulling matches. On top of that ALL of them are attractive. Recognize her?

That’s right. That gorgeous Glamazon women that’s been scampering around the red carpets with George Clooney, is Stacy Keibler. She is a former WWE women’s wrestler and now wrestles Clooney.
4. It’s Got Flair – While it’s not as prevalant as it once was in that the wrestlers seldom deck themselves out in costumes, they do still have an individual personality that the fans associate with. Dwayne Johnson – The Rock, Steve Austin – Stone Cold, Shawn Michaels – the Heartbreak Kid and the beat goes on. The each have a persona they create, monologues around those personas, outfits or costumes and even their own song of choosing to come out to. Plus it helps noobs like me remember who is who so I appear more knowledgable than I am to husband face.

The event happening in 3 weeks is Wrestlemania. It’s like the Superbowl for wrestlers and The Rock is headling it after 7 years in Hollywood. We’ll be at all 3 events hosted that weekend including a meet and greet with Shawn Michaels, Wrestlemania and the Hall of Fame ceremony. I know… Plus, Miami is the host city so it only make sense to driver through 4 hours of swamps to attend.

If you’re still judging that’s ok, I know at least 4 moves that would have you tapping in 12 seconds. If you’re not and you’re open to sharing you’re guilty pleasure that you keep secret from most of the world…do tell!

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