Hokay, time 2 reblog shit from my main blog onto here so that you know I have A+ wrestling opinions and we become friends and eventually I achieve my life goal of Street Pass™ing with Kazuchika Okada.
Other wrestling-related life goals (will edit as more are added):
spend the rest of my life making meatball subs for kota ibushi, who is largely my platonic (bc we both have True Loves) soulmate, but we don’t NOT fuck occasionally, bc that would be a waste of the most talented wrestler and the most talented meatball maker dream team
queen charlotte high fives me once per quarter
officiate golden lovers kayfabe reunion/irl wedding
live long enough to see a person clap for Roman Reigns
Ivelisse marries me once per quarter
finish my thirst rap about kota ibushi (it’s really good i promise)
powerbomb my cat (completed; I do this a lot, don’t worry we r safe)
jack gallagher helps me change a tire
talk about bread club
tanahashi puts out a dis track about my hair
learn to dougie from will ospreay once per quarter
watch an entire match involving Rick O’Shea without taking the Lord’s name in vain
see a KUSHIDA heel turn (get hype, it’s happening)
see Sexy Star have competent booking (hahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahaha me and kota will talk about how much this won’t happen over our meatball subs)
Shinsuke Nakamura calls my voicemail and says “you do your best every day”
my mom lays out all of LIJ and challenges EVIL for whatever belt he has but then doesn’t show up because EVIL is too boring and she forgot
Rick took one last drag before flicking his cigarette butt over the rail. The orange flame bounced once, twice, against the hull and vanished. “Panic attack,” he said.
“What do we do?”
“My mom usually drinks a couple screwdrivers. She says the orange juice has a soothing effect.” Rick, seized by a thought, took off after Henry. Schwartz tried to follow, but his legs wouldn’t let him.
Rick is such a goofball.
The soothing effect of the water is the reason I use it to take my Xanax, too. It’s amazingly effective.