Labels Are the Real Problem

Labels. You see them everywhere you turn. On that can of soup, on the case of beer you bought me, on your underwear, on my underwear…hey! What are you doing looking at my underwear?

Labels are the problem with society. I’m not saying they don’t have their place, as they most certainly do. What I am saying is that when something is labeled a certain way, then that’s the only way most people are willing to see it. Here’s an example for you:

rabbit 150x150 Labels Are the Real Problem

You like my duck? It's a duck.

See that duck up there? It’s nothing special, mind you, just a silly little duck image I found while searching around. But wait, it’s also a rabbit. Is your mind blown? It’s blown right? AmIRight? I’m right. You were perfectly willing to accept that that image above was a duck and only a duck because I labeled it as such. And if you were willing to just accept my label of “duck” you might never have seen the rabbit, and you would have missed out on that facet of the image. Continue reading →

10 Reasons Men Just Have It Better

Men are good at this, fixing cars, mowing lawns and scratching balls. Not necessarily in that order though.

It’s a fact. Men are happier overall than women, and it’s because everything is just simply better for us. I’m not being sexist, and I’m certainly not trying to upset any fringe groups of militant cashiers on the internet, but the simple truth of the matter is that men on the whole have it better than women.

Now I’m sure I’m going to get blasted by some feminist fruitcake who wants to let me know that they, in fact, can do many of the things I’m about to say they can’t below. To that handful of insecure and lonely women, all I can offer is “So what?”

My goal here isn’t to be specific to every person on the planet, that would be impossible and I’d have to figure out which category to put Rosie O’donnel in. Honestly that’s not fair to anyone, and I believe she opens jars with her ass and some udder butter. But now I’m getting off track and I’d just as soon get into this article about 10 Reasons Men Have it Better than Women.

1. Our last name stays put. Unless you’re one of those sissy-men who takes his wife’s last name or hyphenates his name to show equality or some other such drivel, the man’s name never changes when he gets married. Of course, if he’s marrying two or more women in different states, then maybe his name does change, but that’s purely by chance, and not at all necessary to the ceremony.

2. Speaking of weddings, the plans for a wedding just magically take care of themselves. Sure, you might have to help pick out a china pattern or agree on the buffet menu, but otherwise those things are simple. I don’t understand why women have such a stressful time with these things. Mine was a breeze. I rented a tux, showed up at the church, went to the Moose Lodge afterwards and we partied. Easy as pie. Plus, it’s cheaper for us. Tux Rental – $350, Wedding Dress – $5,000

3. We can open all of our own jars. Again, this only applies if you’re not a sissified, pseudo-man who hyphenates his name and waxes his groin.

4. People never stare at our breasts when we’re talking to them. And if they do, they’re doing it because of our massively impressive pectoral muscles that make us oh-so-macho and tough looking. Never because they want to get us out of our clothes and motorboat us.

5. Our underwear is about $7.50 for a three pack. There’s limited options: Briefs, boxers, boxer-briefs. (If you said bikini cut, you may as well go ahead and hyphenate your last name and let me open that jar for you, Nancy)

6. Our hairstyle remains in fashion for years, if not decades.

7. Wrinkles simply add character, and grey hair is a distinguishing characteristic. Women simply get old and grey.

8. We can go on a 5 day vacation and have more than enough clothing in a single suitcase.

9. Same work, more pay.

10. We can get Christmas shopping done for two-dozen relatives on December 24th in just under an hour.

In conclusion, all I can say is that it’s great to be a man. We don’t have the problems that women do and we’re not expected to be anything more than what we are. Belching, farting, scratching, hairy, smelly, lazy lumps of humanity, and it’s not only acceptable, it’s quite often expected of us.

Roseanne Barr Wants to be President

If this president thing doesn't work out, maybe she can star in Throw Momma From the Train 2

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT!!!!!! That’s all I can say after reading this AP news story. Roseanne Barr filed the papers to get the Green Party’s support as she attempts to run for president of the United States. This is the best thing I’ve heard ever since Donald Trump pretended he was going to run and forced that jack-wagon in Washington to give us access to his birth certificate.

In terms of dumbest goddamned thing ever, Roseanne is definitely coming out swinging. She’s at least in the top 5 dumbest things ever now. Along with Ashton Kutcher being on TV, Ron Paul attempting yet one more run at the Presidency and Twinkies filing bankruptcy. It’s just astounding how stupid this is. I know she’s been out of the public’s eye, save for the following Snickers Commerical spot where they rightfully tried to kill her with a 3 ton swinging tree.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XO_uJVL8KkA

So yeah, unless we get to pummel her with death dealing Aspen Pine trunks, I don’t really need to know anymore about her platform. Her agenda? Well she says that she has always represented the working class and women. Apparently rich women aren’t rich men, and therefore need this bag of fetid shit to represent them along with the dregs of society.

I don’t know, I really hope she gets the nomination and forces her Crypt-keeper looking ass into the national debates at least once. Can you imagine? Let’s say Romney wins the GOP nod, and we get to see Brian Williams moderate the next Presidential Debate:

Brian Williams: Thank you all for being here, welcome to the 2012 Presidential Debates. President Obama, Mr. Romney, Roseanne.

Obama: Thank you, it’s a pleasure to be here.

Romney: Thank you, it’s a pleasure to be here.

Roseanne: Aaaaah, you can kiss my fat ass. <obnoxious laughter> Isn’t that right Darlene? Darlene? Ah, damn kids.

Oh it would be glorious. What would her stance on Foreign Affairs be?

Roseanne: Well the way I see it, we should make all them Eye-Rackees work in a plastic fork factory for minimum wage until they learn they can start a restaurant with their sister and lesbian mother. And to make it even funnier, let’s add Martin Mull as a gay man to run the joint.

The Economy?

Roseanne: Just do what I did. Win the lottery and dream that you killed your husband off. Then go back on that plot line because the fans hated that you survived and John Goodman didn’t.

Gay Marriage?

Roseanne: Ah, who cares. Munch a carpet, smoke a pole. Just make sure you buy my new book “Roseanne: A life worth living is worth living on a pile of Hagen-Daas.” Hell, I married Tom Arnold for a season, and that was worse than Gay marriage. That was retarded marriage. I think all gay people should marry Tom Arnold first, if they last 6 months, then they can get married to someone who isn’t from outer space.

Let’s all get out the vote. Roseanne for President! The Connor Family goes to D.C. It could be a Movie of the Week!

Cashiers Are A Testy Bunch

Artist's rendition of the Cashiers Are People Too tumblr blog.

Friends, something happened to me over the weekend. Something that’s never really happened before and I don’t know quite what to make of it. On January 26th, I published a little article entitled “The Grocery Store Cashier Friggin’ Hates Me” In this article, I wrote about my experiences shopping at the local grocery store, and giving the cashier some well deserved grief while purchasing my rations for the week.

Apparently, the article was picked up and shared on a Tumblr Blog called “Cashiers Are People Too” First off, we know that’s a farce. They’re cashiers. They’re not really people. I kid, I kid, after what happened to me I don’t want to incur their wrath once again. Anyways, I wrote the article in what I assumed everyone else who read it would realize was a fictionalized tale of my trials and tribulations while making a trip to the store. As I am wont to do, I embellished a few things, exaggerated a few others and flat made most of them up as I went along. I’m a pathological liar, is what I’m saying.

It would seem, however, that there is a contingent of workers among us that are working retail jobs, many as cashiers who took personal offense to my little story. They got their proverbial taints chapped. It would seem to me that when someone becomes a cashier, the companies they work for make it mandatory that they have their sense of humor and sarcasm removed. It’s a wonderful thing. I got 6 comments thanks to that article. And none of them were really very positive. I love it. Let me share them with you now:

Comment 1: From “Anon” - I’m going to go ahead and assume you’ve never worked a retail job before because if you did, you wouldn’t be such a generally awful person.

My rebuttal: Actually, I’ve worked many retail jobs from the time I was age 15, and I am 37 now. I’ve worked in 4 different grocery stores, one home improvement center, a toy store, and once installed cable for a living. That’s worse than retail, you get to deal with the same assholes, but you also get to perform real manual labor while you’re doing it. In fact, I’ve installed cable for a cashier and she was a total whack job, grade A, certifiably insane shit head.

Comment 2: From Msmidori7 - Wow. You’re the reason she hates her job, you know that? It isn’t the job that sucks. It’s the customers that come into the store with ^ attitude.

My rebuttal: I didn’t know that, she had every opportunity to tell me while I was there, but she didn’t. The job sucks, if you don’t think working as a cashier sucks, you’re most likely brain dead.

Comment 3: From Teastraights - Now, just a hunch, but I think the reason she (and by association most other cashiers) hates you is that you are an arrogant and inconsiderate ass of royal proportions. Just saying.

My rebuttal: I’m absolutely an arrogant and inconsiderate ass. Just ask all the charities I donate to, organizations I help out and youth sports teams I’ve assisted over the years. Just saying.

Comment 4: From Anonymous - you’re a complete asshole. simple as that.

My rebuttal: Nothing about me is that simple. I’m more than a complete asshole.

Comment 5: From Anon (this person gets worked up into multiple comments) What a weirdo. Who cares enough when they scan their card to get into a fight with the manager? And you do realize they probably have to scan all the heavy stuff themselves, right? It might be against store policy to let you do it. Some people just need a reason to get their panties in a bunch in the checkout lane.

My Rebuttal: Your Mom likes it when I get her panties in a bunch.

Comment 6: viva la momo! - You apparently don’t get laid.

My Rebuttal: I don’t even…huh? I have to wonder how a mind like this works to infer from my article that I don’t have sexual relations. Teenagers are such strange, excitable little creatures.

But the absolute coup de grace was from the operator of the Tumblr blog him/herself…on the site, under the article they re-blogged, they replied to me with:

One. Oh wow! You’re shopping for five people! Oh my goodness. Don’t you deserve a medal.Two, You’re not funny bro. Your rant about “manly” stuff was stupid and childish. My boyfriend says stuff like that. He is 19 you’re what? 30-40? Three. It’s our job to do everything. We have to basically treat you like you’re a helpless child, we have to scan and drag your 30 lbs of crap. If we don’t we get into trouble. Four. We have to ask you for your card. It makes it EASIER in the beginning so we don’t have to print out the whole damn receipt to make sure your damn tomatoes rung up correctly. If seeing the price drop makes you happy then look at the bottom of your receipt you will see how much you saved. Five. You’re the reason why cashiers hate their jobs. Please stop being a jerk to the poor cashier. She has a life, she has feelings. Treat her as such. We deal with crap and having to deal with asshats like yourself isn’t much fun.

To which I can only imagine this person lives to cashier, cashiering is life! Cashier life-yo! Holy shit! I am in complete and total AWE of your insane cashiering prowess. I am truly humbled by your words and will forever work to change my ways so as not to infuriate Cashier-Jesus.

In conclusion, I am now going to make it my mission in life to include at least one derogatory article towards cashiers and retail workers every week here at Belly Billboard. If I get this much interest over something so obviously made up, I might just be able to retire early. Cashiers are boneheaded, insecure, life-hating troglodytes. Keep the dream alive! Maybe you can become “HEAD CASHIER” one day.

Stay Out of my Pocket, bro.

I'm Outta Money, Gimme Yours!

I don’t get it. Maybe you can help me understand. Why, all of a sudden, does it seem that the majority of American young adults feel entitled to have something they haven’t worked for? This jealousy is running rampant and it’s pretty ugly to watch.

I usually won’t get political on this site, because, politics are incredibly divisive. And they’re not much fun when people get all butt hurt that you disagree with their opinion on things. While I don’t mind butt hurt people running around, I’d rather it was because of my stance on what the best flavor of Lifesavers are, and not because we don’t like the same idiots in charge of running our country.

This is something that really tears me up though. Lately in our country our young adults have taken to protesting the “unfairness” of not having a high paying job like so many executives in so many corporations. Never mind that they haven’t earned that position, that they haven’t proven themselves worthy or capable of excelling in such a position or the fact that those who currently have these jobs actually worked hard to achieve them. There’s a small percentage of them that were handed their jobs and that’s not fair, but life isn’t fair.

The sooner we beat that into our kids’ heads the sooner we can get back to being a great country. No, it’s not fair that the wealthy have money and you don’t. But it’s not meant to be fair. I believe the Russians tried to alleviate this very same problem a handful of decades ago and they found out that people tend to give up trying to achieve greatness when their reward is the same as the lazy asshole that doesn’t even get out of bed except to vomit up last night’s state-sponsored vodka. That’s the problem with this socialist movement.

And I blame the parents of this generation. Growing up these kids were the first generation where everybody was a winner! Nobody lost, and even when you lost, you were still a champ because you tried. Even if that trying meant that your 7 year old dumbass self was standing in left field for 3 hours picking your nose and eating it. ”You sure were the home-run king of booger eatin’ kiddo! Let’s go to Pizza Hut and then Toys R Us so I can buy you gifts for absolutely no reason.” If kids aren’t taught how to deal with adversity, unfairness and losing early on, they’ll never adapt to the real world where everybody DOESN’T win.

I don’t make much money at all, yet I don’t feel that the government should go up to the wealthy and say “Hey, Gutmeister sure could use some of that good money you’re sitting on, we’re going to give it to him now.” How is that right? I didn’t work for that money, that guy or one of his ancestors did. That’s HIS money and HIS perogative to keep and spend it how he sees fit. I don’t hold a grudge against him for having more money than me.

And further, jealousy is at the root of all these problems. Our kids don’t know how to respect anything anymore. They see that someone else has something better than they do and they’ll go out of their way to destroy or devalue it rather than work hard themselves to try and get the same thing. It’s much easier to tear someone or something down than it is to push yourself to reach new heights and to EARN, yes earn, what you want out of life.

No jobs? No, that’s wrong. There are jobs, they just aren’t the cushy $75k/year jobs that you thought you were going to be gifted upon finishing a few years of college. You might actually, brace yourself, have to WORK for a living for a little while until something you prefer opens up. There’s no shame in minimum wage work, especially if the alternative is sitting in a small mob of unwashed, entitled idiots crying that “it’s not fair!” Grow up.

Ok, sorry. I won’t bring this up again. I just really had to get it out. I see all this “give me give me” shit going on and it really sticks in my craw. And you wouldn’t like me when something’s stuck in my craw.

One Great Upside to Marriage

Marriage is not ALWAYS like this, just mostly.

So, you’re afraid of marriage huh? I’m sorry to hear that, you want some ointment for that? Truth is, marriage is a pretty darn nice thing to be involved in, if you find the right person and neither of you are selfish, self-important walrus taints. If you’re someone who always has to come first, who’s always got to have things “just so” and feels that your own feelings and desires are the single most important thing EVER, then do us all a favor. Don’t get married. Don’t go out in public. Just climb up the nearest cliff and jump off. We don’t need your kind.

If, however, you’re capable of caring about others, and you’re one of those rare people who actually have the unique ability to put yourself second in line once in a while, then you might be marriage material. Additionally, if you can find someone similar you’re doing even better. Congratulations, get hitched! It’s not that hard to do, a few bucks at the courthouse and you’re done.

Unless of course you’re marrying an average woman. I don’t mean average in terms of looks, personality, sexual prowess, skill at Dungeons and Dragons. I mean average in that most women have a dream wedding pictured in their minds and it’s your job to make sure they get it. Keep in mind, the wedding isn’t about the guy. It’s never about the guy. Your best bet is to go along quietly to pick out china patterns, blenders and flowers. Suck it up big boy, she puts up with YOU afterall. It’s really unfair to her if you think about it objectively.

So you make it through the circus of a wedding, you’re now deeper in debt than college loans could have ever possibly hoped to achieve, and you’re married. To the same person. Every. Freaking. Day. And you know what? It ain’t so bad.

Here’s the thing, the minute you get married you’ve entered into a partnership with another human being who’s also willing to let you have sex with them, every other Tuesday whether you need it or not. But in agreeing to marrying you, they now get to split the bullshit that life throws at you on the regular. Remember back when you were single and the car would break down? You’d look in your bank account and basically the ATM would spit out a receipt with this image on it?

madbro 300x273 One Great Upside to Marriage

Yeah, there's nothing even remotely close to money in your account

So you’d sit there, wondering how you were going to get to work, what you were going to eat and how you were going to get your car fixed. You’d run out of ideas and get blindingly drunk on mouthwash and Nyquil just so you could forget about your troubles for a few fitful hours of sleep. It was awful. But now you’re married!

That means she gets to help you deal with the huge slice of shit-pizza that the Pizza-verse has dealt you. While you’re walking to the bus stop to get to your low-paying, unfulfilling job, she’s able to call around for the best quotes on repairs and vice versa. You’re able to hunt down friends who owe you a favor or know a guy who’ll do the work on the cheap while she’s at her low-paying, unfulfilling job somewhere.

And remember balancing the budget? Trying to pay everything each month? Not only do you have a partner in racking up those debts, but you also have a partner in juggling them around each month so that you don’t get something turned off at the wrong time. ”So, we skipped the electric bill last month, this month we can skip the water bill to pay the electric bill. If it rains, we won’t have to worry about having water anyways.”

On and on this cycle goes. You’re still getting dumped on, but it’s being spread across two people now. You and your partner. The Jackie Chan to your Chris Tucker. The Cagney to your Lacey. The Spongebob to your Patrick. Well, that last one might be a little bit suspect.

But you can see how it works. Marriage absolutely has it’s challenges, anyone who tells you differently is either a) lying or b) happily divorced. Marriage, in my experience, has many more positives than negatives. The biggest plus for me? Knowing that at least once a month, I get to have sex, guaranteed. Whether I need it or not.

Don’t Squeeze the Charmin

Dear God! Do you people EAT it or what?

Or rather, don’t abuse it. Make it last. Use just enough to get clean and move on. Hah? Am I asking too much here? Maybe I am.

Last Thursday, six days ago as I’m writing this, I purchased a 24 pack of toilet paper. Not the cheap, thin, gotta use half a roll every wipe, store brand either. This was the premium stuff. Nice, fluffy, thick and durable. Hell, it even had aloe added to it so that it conditions as it cleans. It was glorious. Now, here’s the statistics. In my house, as of right now, there are 5 people. Myself, my wife, and three of our sons. (Our oldest son is currently in basic training for the Army National Guard). We’re dealing with 5 asses in this house. Just 5. No more, no less. F-I-V-E.

To my knowledge, nobody is binging on Jamie Lee Curtis’ “Make you shit” yogurt, and none of us are into laxatives as a recreational drug. While I don’t personally make a notation everytime someone grunts out a growler, I do know that on average, a human being drops maybe two deuces a day. After chili night, maybe more, but we haven’t had any chili in a long time. We also don’t consume a lot of bran, fiber or other bacterium that might make one’s bowels open wide and let forth with a flood that will cover the Earth for 40 days and 40 nights. I’m trying to say, we’re fairly regular in the stink bomb department.

So, I bought 24 rolls of paper six days ago. In six days, to use that up, you’d have to burn through 4 rolls a day, almost an entire roll per person in the house. My kids aren’t near as big as I am, so I’m assuming their usage is less than my own. Less field to tend, less material used. That’s besides the point. I know for a fact, I can buy 4 rolls of toilet paper on Monday, and it will last me nearly two full weeks by myself, barring any trips to Golden Corral on “seafood night”.

Somehow this family has managed to decimate 24 rolls, that’s nearly 500 feet of butt wiper. In less than six days. Now, I know there’s the occasional wasted roll, where the kids decide to just unwind the entire thing because, why wouldn’t they? And I know there are instances where a woman has to wipe throughout the day that don’t involve bringing a few friends to the lake. And that’s fine too. With nearly 500 feet of ass swab, over the course of 6 days, that’s a usage rate of 83.3 feet of paper per day. Nearly 17 feet per person. SEVENTEEN FEET!!!! That’s 10 + 7 ya’ll. It’s nearly 3 grown-men tall. That’s a whole lot of cleansing power right there.

I’m under the assumption that these people I live with are eating it or hoarding it for the coming apocalypse. I can’t think of any good reason a family of five should run through enough toilet paper to make Mr. Whipple touch himself. What makes it bad is that I’m the only one who ever suffers for it. The wife somehow has magical powers of extending the last roll as if it were lamp oil and she were crossing the desert on her way out of Egypt. And the kids? Hell, they think using toilet paper just slows them down.

I’m lost folks. Does this happen in your homes or am I living on top of some ancient Indian burial outhouse?

Hockey Season’s Here!

Twice as many laughs as the original, so what's two times none?

Whoopty shit. Anyone watch hockey? Anyone? Bueller? I don’t. I did, but I don’t anymore. And I only watched it for a few games during the championship series back when the Anaheim Mighty Ducks were playing for the title. And even then I only watched it to support Emilio Estevez and his plucky team of misfit children do well. I mean, how could you NOT root for them to do well? That’s quite the accomplishment for a mediocre Hollywood actor and a team of semi-literate children to earn their way into the Stanley Cup finals.

But anyways, I live in South Carolina. We don’t have cold weather for more than a few hours a year. We do have an ice hockey rink somewhere nearby, but I think it’s more of an indoor fishing pond these days. What I’m saying is, nobody in this state even gives a damn what hockey is. If it’s not football, or baseball or basketball, at the collegiate level, it doesn’t really amount to much of a thing. These, by the way, are the same people who think it’s perfectly reasonable to sell Grits with every meal you order in every restaurant in the state, so maybe there’s some correlation there. (I’m saying, South Carolinians aren’t very smart or diverse.)

So I saw on my Facebook feed that Hockey Season is here and Miller Lite is asking us what three things we couldn’t live without. Because it’s hockey season. And a hat trick is a thing in hockey. Apparently a thing based on threes. I don’t know. It’s stupid if you ask me. I’m really struggling to figure out what the hell 3 things I couldn’t live without might have to do with hockey. The two don’t seem to go together in my mind.

I imagine they’re hoping I reply with “Miller Lite, Hockey and Boobs!!!”. Well, I’m not about to pander to these corporate shills. My three things are: Miller Lite, Boobs, and Boobs. See that? No hockey for this guy. Sorry.

Stop SOPA Now

I’m participating in the blackout campaign to protest the SOPA legislation that is threatening to take away a lot of our rights and privileges on the internet. I am however supporting those sites who are participating. Reddit.com, for one, is having a 12 hour blackout to protest this.

Additionally, if you go to Google’s homepage, you will see a black bar across their logo. It’s an amazing collaborative of web site administrators and businesses coming together to fight for what they know will be devastating to the way the internet works and the livelihoods of literally millions of people all over the country.

You can learn more about SOPA and the protest to kill it off here: American Censorship or here at Down Against SOPA.

WWE/Pro Wrestling – An Addicition

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I watch WWE programming. For those not in the know, get outta here. For those that do know what WWE is, then keep reading.

I grew up as a fan of the WWF. Note: the World Wildlife Foundation forced the World Wrestling Federation to change it’s name to prevent any “misunderstandings” in the public conscience. Apparently people would think they were donating to help save King Kong Bundy from taking a body slam, only to find out it was to protect an endangered koala bear or something. When I was a kid in the 80′s, I remember tuning in to USA network every weekend to watch clips of shows they taped during the week. I’d get so invested in what was going on between George “The Animal” Steele and Macho Man, that it was all I could think about. I knew it was “fake”, but I didn’t care. It was stupid, it was silly and it was big muscle bound idiots banging each other into ring posts for 20 minutes at a time. It was, simply, FUN. No thinking required, check your brain at the door and have fun.

As I got older, the product changed. It went from Hulkamania and Macho Madness to something more like a teenager’s guide to dick jokes. I’m not against a good dick joke, but these weren’t GOOD dick jokes. They were sophomoric attempts at toilet humor that fell short more often than not. Everything they did was vulgar. I like vulgar in small doses. I don’t like it for 3 solid hours. Not many people do. So I drifted away from the product.

Then, about 3 years ago, I re-discovered WWE. It had been almost a full decade since I last watched any of it. And you know what? They cleaned it up since I had left. It got silly again. Sure, they have their moments where the occasional “ass”, or “bitch” slips out. They still make awful jokes and have terrible storylines, but that’s what I grew up with. It was good because it was hokey. You didn’t REALLY believe that the Ultimate Warrior was a cosmonaut from a distant galaxy sent here to purge the WWE of inferior beings. You enjoyed what he was saying precisely because it was so bat-shit insane.

Over these last 3 years, I’ve found myself paying to watch their PPV events. A lot. In fact, the first full year of following, I think I paid for EVERY ONE of their 14 events. At roughly $40/show, that’s….well, what am I a Math major? It’s a lot of money to waste on scripted entertainment. Or is it? I’d spend about the same taking my kids to the circus and buying snacks, toys, etc. That’s easily a $200 day for us. Going to a movie? Again, that’s easily a $80 proposition for my family. So it balances out. The kids seem to enjoy the shows, they’re not invested in it by any means, but they know the performers, they enjoy them and it’s fun.

What I’m getting at is, I plan to start a weekly series here at BellyBillboard talking about that week’s shows. They broadcast RAW on Monday nights (a live show) and SmackDown on Friday nights (a taped show). I’m not going to try to do a grading scale like so many pro wrestling columnists do, I think it’s pointless. And I’m not going to try to do anything like Brandon Stroud does over at the sports web site, WithLeather. There’s no way I can be as funny or entertaining as he is when it comes to pro wrestling. But what I will do is break down the parts that I liked, that I hated and that I thought were completely ridiculous. Hopefully you’ll enjoy this new feature. If you don’t, well suck it. It’s my blog and I’ll do what I want.

Let me know your thoughts on Pro Wrestling, good, bad or pure hatred in the comments section. Expect my first article sometime this week.

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What What? On My Gut!

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