When you get to know me one of the first things you'll learn is that I like living on the edge. There's no other way to put it other than calling me a risk taker. I'm the kind of dude that wants to spend weeks out in the arctic tundra with nothing but a tent and a gun. While many people label me as an adrenaline junkie I say they just don't know what it's really like to live. Of course when I eventually married I ended up with a wife that too enjoys the endorphins one gets from jumping out of airplanes. As we took that ultimate risk of wedding one another we picked tungsten wedding bands as a symbol of strength that we both naturally possessed. The tungsten didn't live up to our expectations to say the least.
Something else I enjoy partaking in is an activity I consider to be a sport where some will differ. That is backyard wrestling. It gives me a chance to really strain my body and mind in the safety of my own backyard. My signature move is the devastating jackhammer that cripples my opponents in one swift blow. Because I have my own wrestling ring in my backyard I can host event all summer long. If you need me you can find me throwing my enemies into turnbuckles and elbow dropping on the nearly defeated.
It's quite unfortunate though that backyard wrestling is the single sport she doesn't feel the same about as me. In giving her lots of credit; she did let me build the ring in the back and I greatly appreciate that but that hasn't stopped her from throwing me the evil eye through the kitchen window as I'm finishing off my opponents. I know deep down she just doesn't want me hurt but ostensibly she doesn't want to be cleaning up the mess after each event.
It all came to a boiling point at the fourth annual backyard wrestling world championship. Working my way through the ranks my next fight reminded me of Kimbo-Slice. He towered over me but I knew I could take him. It was no more than a few seconds into the fight though that I realized I was still wearing my tungsten ring. He was coming at me with sheer rage in his eyes so all I could do was fight. We got caught in a grapple and he threw my like a ragdoll into the ropes. I came back using the momentum to hopefully clothesline him but instead the inertia flung my tungsten ring right of my finger, bounced off a corner turnbuckle, cracked in two and landed right in Kimbo's exposed eye.
Though the championship still went on, I was disqualified for using a weapon when my ring cracked and Kimbo went to the hospital with a cut in his cornea. That was the last championship event I hosted and now whenever I mention backyard wrestling my wife shoots me the evil eye without saying a word. And we go back to our fire spitting lessons.
Something else I enjoy partaking in is an activity I consider to be a sport where some will differ. That is backyard wrestling. It gives me a chance to really strain my body and mind in the safety of my own backyard. My signature move is the devastating jackhammer that cripples my opponents in one swift blow. Because I have my own wrestling ring in my backyard I can host event all summer long. If you need me you can find me throwing my enemies into turnbuckles and elbow dropping on the nearly defeated.
It's quite unfortunate though that backyard wrestling is the single sport she doesn't feel the same about as me. In giving her lots of credit; she did let me build the ring in the back and I greatly appreciate that but that hasn't stopped her from throwing me the evil eye through the kitchen window as I'm finishing off my opponents. I know deep down she just doesn't want me hurt but ostensibly she doesn't want to be cleaning up the mess after each event.
It all came to a boiling point at the fourth annual backyard wrestling world championship. Working my way through the ranks my next fight reminded me of Kimbo-Slice. He towered over me but I knew I could take him. It was no more than a few seconds into the fight though that I realized I was still wearing my tungsten ring. He was coming at me with sheer rage in his eyes so all I could do was fight. We got caught in a grapple and he threw my like a ragdoll into the ropes. I came back using the momentum to hopefully clothesline him but instead the inertia flung my tungsten ring right of my finger, bounced off a corner turnbuckle, cracked in two and landed right in Kimbo's exposed eye.
Though the championship still went on, I was disqualified for using a weapon when my ring cracked and Kimbo went to the hospital with a cut in his cornea. That was the last championship event I hosted and now whenever I mention backyard wrestling my wife shoots me the evil eye without saying a word. And we go back to our fire spitting lessons.
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