I don't think I can stress enough how much wrestling just kind of Rules Actually. It's sports theatre, it's a serial drama, it's basically yaoi for straight men. Unless there's shredded women on stage, in which case it's yaoi for lesbians. Don't ask me what that means, you either know or you don't.

I'd be lying if I said I knew all that much about wrestling, I got inundated into one of my metamour's weekly wrestling nights - where a group of dolls (and people that are spiritually, doll adjacent) gather round the couch and watch men in purple uniforms yell "Scissor me daddy", girls yell about Sammy Guevara being dyke-coded and my girlfriend runs out of the room when a shredded weeb pulls out the barbed wire chair and attempts the "One Winged Angel" on his adversary.

Wrestling rules!!

I cannot begin to stress how much fun it is, there's an incredible amount of talent on display where people weekly engage in wildly dangerous acts with a choreography elegant enough that they aren't all getting hospitalized every week, situated between some of the greatest melodrama of the age. MJF had his "re-barmitzvah" on International Women's Day on went on a whole shtick about God's chosen people before getting thrown into his own cake. Remarkable. That's art.

There's all kinds of coherent and intelligent analysis to be made of wrestling as a form of theatre that I'm sure have been written a million times already. I'm not doing it, I'm here to say Jamie Hayter could step on me and I'd die a happy dyke. God have you looked at her?? Remarkable, that's art. I'm gay, I have seen what God has done for others, and I need it. go watch wrestling!! weekly!! you'll be so much happier*

*you probably need a party of tall girls to watch it with, listening to the dog girl posse howl or the polish girls yell about the female friendship to rivals arcs getting tired is plausibly an essential part of the atmosphere