Ah, the Mommyish community. I’ve told you about my sordid Juggalo past, my love for all things Star Wars and probably a ton of other things most people would keep to themselves. Why? Because I’m a giver.
Seriously though, I’ve had a strange, strange ride into parenthood, with a lot of weird stops. And one of those stops was dating (however briefly) a wannabe professional wrestler. Actually, I dated a couple of them, because I’m a glutton for…punishment? Hilarious ice-breakers for later in life? Anywho, having a child with a Juggalo was one thing. For one thing, I got a great kid out of it. For another, he’s a pretty good dad and was also really cool about me writing about him on the internet and calling him a Juggalo (the pictures don’t lie, though).
The whole professional wrestling thing is a whole different story. I will be the first to admit, watching the WWF (or E, or whatever they legally have to call themselves now) was NOT my cuppa tea. Not then, and not now. Between the silly costumes, the outrageously cheesy story lines and the oh-so-obviously staged “wrestling” I thought (and still think) that the whole thing is ridiculous*.
So I’ve put together a list of the reasons why I’m glad IÂ didn’tÂ breed with a professional wrestler (wannabe). Honestly though, this is just the tip of the iceberg. The reasons are endless and will go on till the end of time.
*Obviously I’m not talking about real wrestling. You know, the type of wrestling that gets you to the Olympics. That’s some serious business and not to be trifled with. Or so I’ve heard. Â
Let’s get the most obvious thing out of the way. Most “professional” wrestling today is filled with misogynistic bullshit. Women in skimpy costumes being objectified left and right. If theyÂ doÂ get a legitimate storyline, they’re usually being passed around as a wife, daughter, sister, etc. And the whole “hero/heel” aspect that you see in the male side of this industry is a great partner for the always present Madonna/whore complex. And I’m not the only person who thinks so.