bigt730's blog

Guys, you wouldn't believe the grip wrestling has on me, it's like a full-body bear hug that just won't quit. I'm talking about the kind of wrestling that has you strutting around in spandex trunks, slapping hands with the crowd, and hoisting that championship belt high like you're king of the world. But, you know, it's like Murphy's law is playing a twisted game of keep-away with my dreams.

So here's the deal, I'm stuck on this tiny island, right? And when I say tiny, I mean you could swim around it if you had a good pair of flippers and a lot of free time. Now, you'd think that'd be cool, all those beaches, but let me tell you, when you're dying to get into the wrestling scene, it's like being stranded on a desert island minus the whole "Survivor" TV show deal. The wrestling rings, the bright lights, the smack talk – it's all happening on the mainland, like a million miles away. And let's not even start on the local action because, well, there isn't any. It's like trying to find a decent burger joint in a sea of salad bars. Just not happening.

And then there's the cold, hard cash. Or should I say, the cold, hard lack of it. The dough you need to hop on a boat and wrestle like a pro is more than I can scrounge up. It's like trying to win the lottery without buying a ticket. Sure, I've got my day job and the family, but let's be real, wrestling ain't exactly a hobby you pick up at the corner store. The travel alone would cost more than my car is worth, and that's saying something considering it's got more miles on it than a marathon runner.

Speaking of family and work, it's like juggling hot potatoes while riding a unicycle. You've got responsibilities, you know? Bills to pay, mouths to feed, and a family that actually expects you to show up for dinner. Try explaining to your boss that you need time off to wrestle in a far-off land and see where that gets you. "Sorry, I can't come in, I've got to wrestle in my spandex" isn't exactly a killer excuse, even if it's true.

And the worst part? Time is not my friend here. It's like my body's got an expiration date for wrestling, and it's ticking louder than a clock in a library. The longer I sit here, the more my muscles are turning to jelly and my reflexes are going the way of a sloth. It's depressing, man.

But here's the kicker: I can't be the only one dealing with this, right? There's gotta be a bunch of other folks out there with the same wrestling fever, stuck in the same rut. It's like we're all part of some secret society, separated by oceans and wallets, dreaming of the day we can throw on those trunks and hit the mat. It's like we're all stuck in wrestling limbo, waiting for some cosmic tag-team partner to yank us out.

So, while I'm here, wrestling with the fridge and the occasional beach bum, I can't help but wonder if there's a way. Maybe, just maybe, there's a path through this mess of life that leads to the squared circle. Until then, I'll keep watching the big matches, pumping iron, and praying to the wrestling gods for a miracle. And maybe, just maybe, one day I'll get to feel the spandex squeeze and hear the crowd go wild. Until then, I'll keep dreaming and plotting my escape from this island of missed opportunities.

Wishing you all a very merry Christmas. Enjoy the holidays and hope to meet up and wrestle soon. Take care guys

Wishing everyone a very happy and prosperous new year. See you in the ring