It was the testosterone equivalent of a beauty pageant.
They flaunt their machismo.
Before there were really musical instruments, men would sing and dance to show their strength and sex appeal to attract the ladies.
Their peacock tail feathers in full display.
Who was the fairest of them all?!?!?
Now we've got men in panties, flexing their muscles, along with their mouths.
Flaunting their machismo, winning the hearts of boys and girls all over the world.
They have different levels of belts, so they work their way up to the tiara and catwalk strut with roses.
Walking down the aisle to the ring with their fashion advisory's suggestion for costumes, you know they practised their own 'walk' in front of the mirror, just like the pageant contestants.
I saw a man in panties with a t-shirt that was provocatively covering his man bits.
At first glance, I thought he was wearing no pants, and thought I might be triggered.
I guess it's the equivalent of the high side slit with low cleavage.
Where the women stand with their duck faces in a form line, these guys flip around their hair, furrow their brows and throw their fists in the air for the most ultimate of bravado possible.
It's really no different.
Testosterone pageant.
So, when I look at it that way, it was a little easier to watch the 'show' of wrestling with Papi when I'd finished my practise for the day.
The production was brilliant for it's purpose.
They have quite the choreography.
I'm sure there's a lot of man stink up in that ring, even though there is NO body hair to be found.
I wonder how many are actually gay?
I'd love to know. They stuff their heads in men's crotches on a regular basis.
Just like when the women lose their outfits and don their swim suits, they strip down from their cloaks and bare their skin, pointing their sinewy breasts toward the camera.
There's even a panel like judges.
They are there to give commentary, perfectly groomed to be sure that when the camera is on them, they are just as primed as the contestants.
They definitely are contestants.
Who's going to win the crown?!?!
Just like working your way up to Miss 'enter your city here', you get your banner with 1st, 2nd, 3rd Princess and of course, Miss Congeniality.
Which I'm sure are the announcers.
"He is very upset."
Thank you for clearing that up for me.
I was a little confused, because they were beating each other.
Are you sure they're upset?
"The 400 pounder, like a junkyard dog."
Yup. The guy is big and he won his belt.
Banner. Tiara and roses.
Oh, then there were the 7 on 7 women.
I don't have to much to say about that, because I was too busy watching them.
I remember a few Vancouver nights with my 'rough around the edges friends' that looked something like that.
How many times do some of these girls pop their silicone?!?!!
At least these girls eat and take care of their bodies.
It's much nicer to see than the anorexia fueled ritual.
It gave me permission to eat more last night.
This battle with the Anorexia Monster is heavy on my mind.
From now on, when someone from this country tells me I am fat, I'll just put on my SuperGirl Panties and tell them I'm a wrestler.
It's kinda true, only I wrestle The 6-Pack.
And sometimes Papi.
They flaunt their machismo.
Before there were really musical instruments, men would sing and dance to show their strength and sex appeal to attract the ladies.
Their peacock tail feathers in full display.
Who was the fairest of them all?!?!?
Now we've got men in panties, flexing their muscles, along with their mouths.
Flaunting their machismo, winning the hearts of boys and girls all over the world.
They have different levels of belts, so they work their way up to the tiara and catwalk strut with roses.
Walking down the aisle to the ring with their fashion advisory's suggestion for costumes, you know they practised their own 'walk' in front of the mirror, just like the pageant contestants.
I saw a man in panties with a t-shirt that was provocatively covering his man bits.
At first glance, I thought he was wearing no pants, and thought I might be triggered.
I guess it's the equivalent of the high side slit with low cleavage.
Where the women stand with their duck faces in a form line, these guys flip around their hair, furrow their brows and throw their fists in the air for the most ultimate of bravado possible.
It's really no different.
Testosterone pageant.
So, when I look at it that way, it was a little easier to watch the 'show' of wrestling with Papi when I'd finished my practise for the day.
The production was brilliant for it's purpose.
They have quite the choreography.
I'm sure there's a lot of man stink up in that ring, even though there is NO body hair to be found.
I wonder how many are actually gay?
I'd love to know. They stuff their heads in men's crotches on a regular basis.
Just like when the women lose their outfits and don their swim suits, they strip down from their cloaks and bare their skin, pointing their sinewy breasts toward the camera.
There's even a panel like judges.
They are there to give commentary, perfectly groomed to be sure that when the camera is on them, they are just as primed as the contestants.
They definitely are contestants.
Who's going to win the crown?!?!
Just like working your way up to Miss 'enter your city here', you get your banner with 1st, 2nd, 3rd Princess and of course, Miss Congeniality.
Which I'm sure are the announcers.
"He is very upset."
Thank you for clearing that up for me.
I was a little confused, because they were beating each other.
Are you sure they're upset?
"The 400 pounder, like a junkyard dog."
Yup. The guy is big and he won his belt.
Banner. Tiara and roses.
Oh, then there were the 7 on 7 women.
I don't have to much to say about that, because I was too busy watching them.
I remember a few Vancouver nights with my 'rough around the edges friends' that looked something like that.
How many times do some of these girls pop their silicone?!?!!
At least these girls eat and take care of their bodies.
It's much nicer to see than the anorexia fueled ritual.
It gave me permission to eat more last night.
This battle with the Anorexia Monster is heavy on my mind.
From now on, when someone from this country tells me I am fat, I'll just put on my SuperGirl Panties and tell them I'm a wrestler.
It's kinda true, only I wrestle The 6-Pack.
And sometimes Papi.
i build lean muscle and i burn fat
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