A new Sexy Wrestler of The Week is ready to be named.
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I’m here again to reveal The Sexy Wrestler of The Week as usual. I started a new, better paying job this week since I had to kick my roommate out a few weeks ago and it made it hard to count all of the votes by myself. However, I did it for you. This is the single most important award in the business and probably will be for years to come. I can’t just half-ass this or the wrestling world would lose something extremely special. I make this possible. I’m Willy Wonker and this is my cupcake factory. All of my fellow literature-maniacs will get that one. 😉
I started working at a paper bag manufacturer. Yeah, paper may be a dying cause but your fancy digital world can’t quite contain physical products yet so… looks like the joke is on you. Good luck carrying your flour using nothing but your Facebook or your Photoshop. Anyway, let me tell you more about me and my new job since you read this every week and care so much about me as a person. As a beginner I am in charge of cutting up huge rolls of faulty or misprinted paper. If the big boys in the production line mess up their ink mix for Big Granny’s Wheat Crumbs, your boy here makes sure that embarrassing roll of paper is destroyed. I then must clean out the ink buckets.
I can’t wear nice clothes to this job! By the end of the night I am covered in a plethora of colors and let me tell you right now, it is a real treat. I feel like a hard-working rainbow. Sometimes I get to have a ten minute bathroom break but it always smells like an ashtray in there for some reason. When the boss isn’t roaming the floor in his suit, tie, and hair net I get to sneak over to my friend that works with the binding machine. If you’re lucky you can stick your finger in there without it getting cut off but it’s very rare. I then come home to count votes for you lovely people.
The Sexy Wrestler of The Week is the WWE World Heavyweight Champion, Brock Lesnar. He may not be around much but you all seem to love him. Maybe it is the sword tat. Maybe it is his business savvy nature. Maybe this is a way to state that you want him to stick around and not head off to fight with the modern-day gladiators of MMA. Either way, he won and that’s just how it was supposed to be.
Speaking of Brock Lesnar, I will now share with you a cute little story from when I was a young boy.
I was a big fan of collecting Pokemon cards in late ’98 and ’99. I was ten years old when I got my first pack. I remember coming out of Wal-Mart with the shiny gold pack in my bag. I get into my family’s burning hot Jeep Cherokee. I couldn’t even touch my seatbelt without whimpering in pain at it burning my skin but I knew I had to. I had to get it done because I was taught that safety was the only way to keep me from dying. The faster I got it buckled, the faster I could rip into this pack of Pokemon cards. As I did, my eyes intently glimmering with love at every single one, even the commons with the mediocre artwork but the last card was truly something special. A holographic Machamp card shimmering.
I remember my mom having to pull over from it blinding her. When she realized what it was she began weeping proudly. My dad reached up from the backseat and our family embraced in the most emotional group hug you could ever imagine. It was a place where tears flowed freely. Free of judgement and ridicule. Just a family showing their appreciation for the little things in life and their truly blessed son inside a hot Jeep Cherokee amongst the fumes of warm leather and plastic. Yeah, I eventually got a holographic Charizard card as well but it meant nothing to me emotionally when compared to this Machamp card. It changed my world.
I took it to school to show all of my pals. Their was some intense jealousy. I could see that immediately but that wasn’t going to stop me from showing everyone I knew a few times. I was invincible, after all. By the end of the day I had a black eye and my card was ripped in to pieces by my so-called best friend, Burt Hamm. I would then return home where one of the most tragic moments in my life would occur. With the loss of this card I had greatly shamed my family. My sisters threw packs of pudding at me. My mom cursed at me for a full 24 hours. My dad wouldn’t roll down the back window of the Jeep to even talk to me.
I finally got some sleep but awoke to my bags being packed. My mom was sending me to live in a cabin atop a mountain in Nebraska. She claimed I would learn to fend for myself, thus gaining honor and a sense of self-worth. She handed me my grandpa’s legendary Lantern of The Fates that he found while fighting in The Great War. It was made out of limestone and glowed with a greenish hue. I took it and was set on my way. I loved in this cabin for years with nothing but a sack of jerky and a TV. This is where I met the man who would give me the strength to move on. I was watching Raw in 2002 when Brock Lesnar debuted. His strength, courage, and primal instincts propelled me to make a huge garden. I made so many eggplants that I eventually received a letter from my mom. “It’s time to come home.”
The next day a helicopter landed and would take me home. It was 2003 by then and I was older than I was in ’99. We landed on the roof of my house. When they dropped the ladder to climb down I said “no, thanks” and performed the greatest somersault in the history of the world. When I landed on my feet my milk and sisters were there to welcome me home and then something amazing happened.
For the first time, my father opened up the backdoor of the Jeep and got out. He then walked over and hugged me. It was a sunny day in real life and in our hearts. I then looked over and saw him. Brock Lesnar was there staring out from the woods behind our house. I blinked and then he was in front of me. He handed me the card you see above. He winked, smirked, and in another blink of the eye he was gone. I’m truly proud to say that he is The Sexy Wrestler of The Week. Thank you, Brock Lesnar. Thank you.