RAW

So at our house, every Monday night, instead of just football or a movie or another activity, we do something pretty unique. It took me a while to get used to it, but after months of practice and countless hours of endurance, I’m not sure whether I’m proud or ashamed to say … I am now used to and actually enjoy Monday Night RAW.

For those of you unfamiliar with RAW, it’s 2 full hours of action-packed, sweat-filled choreographed wrestling. Now the participants of this thrilling event are not your average men and women. No no … They are pumped full of steroids and work out in a gym more in a week than I do in a year. (Ok, so sure, I work out less than your average person but just making a point, these people are insane.)


If you’re still not sure you’ve ever seen RAW (or one of its equivalents like ECW or Smackdown), it’s the same activity that men like The Rock and Hulk Hogan made a surprisingly good living doing for years.

I started watching it simply to appease my cute husband, boyfriend at the time. But I was shocked the other day to find that I was actually looking forward to Monday night to find out what will happen with my favorite characters on RAW. I think it’s kind of a more masculine version of a soap opera – Jay even calls it his “stories.” I even got angry when my favorite of all characters, Triple H (picture below – no spring chicken, but I think he’s as real as anyone gets on that show), was traded to Smackdown, another “branch” of WWE, which airs on Fridays. You’d be amazed how quickly this show sucks you in. I never thought I’d see the day.


Moral of this story: Be careful what you do to make your spouse happy because you might end up addicted to cheesy fake-o wrestling.