That's right. Professional wrestling is the manliest sport in history. So manly, in fact, that its outcome can actually bring a grown man to tears, be they tears of heartbreak or tears of joy.
So today we're gonna show you why pro wrestling is the manliest sport ever, and why wrestlers are the straightest, manliest fucking bunch of men you've ever laid eyes on.
Don't believe us?
Well, would it be unmanly to shave your entire body, thus enhancing all of those menacing muscles?
And what about a thick coat of bronze, aka the spray tan? Is that not the manliest way to transform oneself into a living god?
And that's just scratching the surface. A wrestler's manliness goes far beyond his hot bod. If you want that extra touch of manly awesomeness, you've got to have long, silky hair that flows like a horse's mane as you prance ever so elegantly around the ring.
|Maybe he's born with it, maybe it's WRASTLIN!|
And guyliner. You need SO MUCH GUYLINER.
And don't forget the outfit. Pads and helmets are for pussies. So are clothes. You need a thong small enough to make a stripper blush, so you can properly display the bulge. Bring focus to it. Don't be afraid to wear pink or purple, either. That REALLY brings focus to the entire package.
But a wrestler can't just look awesome. Nah, that's only half the battle. They've got to wrestle good, too, which means an arsenal of manly moves, like the piledriver, where you grab your opponent, put their junk in your face (and your face in their junk), and then slam them down between your legs.
Is your heterosexuality tingling? Mine sure is, and it feels good!
Or don't forget the Powerbomb. Only the most sexually secure beefcake can take his opponent, pull them up so their legs are hooked over his shoulders and their junk is right in his face, then slam them down into the mat. And thank god their bulge is there to cushion his delicate face!
Can you imagine how embarrassing it would be to be on the receiving end of that?
But this epic war is not over yet. Not by a long shot. You see, after about thirty solid minutes of grabbing and throwing and light slapping, the finale to every fight is the pinning down of your opponent's sweaty body until they submit to your throbbing will.
Now tell us that's not the most badass way for two straight men to settle their differences.
So there you have it, the manliest sport in the whole world. Which means to all you haters, you'd better think twice before you badmouth professional wrestling, because the last thing you want is to face the wrath of an angry wrestling superstar's oiled up, shaven muscles all up in your junk.
Any wrastlin' fans here?
Cheers and stay beefy, folks,
Beer: Upslope IPA
Music: Valerie June