Moondog Cured My Bloggers Block

I've had serious blogger's block for AWHILE. I have 3 or 4 partially written posts saved, but I haven't published any of them. The deal with blogging is that when you go for a really long period of time without a peep, it becomes kind of like when you're slightly estranged from a friend, and you keep meaning to call...but you never do...and then it seems like it's been too long and you just write the whole thing off. Maybe other people don't have that happen, but that's how I feel right now. I have the same amount of interesting things going on in my life, but my written accounts don't seem very post-worthy. If I could just break the seal and post something...I know I would have a glorious comeback.

And then last Saturday night happened. I'd heard through the grapevine about a pro wrestling organization in town. The Boyfriend and I are always looking for new and "different" things to do on the weekend - so we headed down to the South Broadway Athletic Club.

We entered the club carrying fancy-pants coffees, fulling expecting to have to toss them. The raspy-voiced man at the door, holding a cigarette, looked at me like I was crazy, as if wondering what sort of establishment would make you throw away a drink you wanted to take in with you (yeah, EVERYPLACE). We gave him our $8.00 and gratefully walked in with our coffees in hand. We noticed some seats had names written in black Sharpie - "The Lumberjacks", "Shaft", "Moondog", etc. They were the floor seats, nice and close...and there happened to be a couple seats in that section that weren't reserved just begging for us to occupy them.

We sat there, basking in one of the most amazing opportunities to people watch that we've encountered in quite a while. A guest referee was introduced, and the show began (but not before I had incredulously paid a total of $2.00 for both a bottled water and a box of popcorn).

You may be picturing WWF-type wrestling, and that's exactly what we got, but on a smaller scale, with lots of smoking, and homemade costumes. There's not enough time in the world for me to tell you everything that happened, so let's highlight Moondog Rover, from the swamps of Louisiana (he's from St. Louis...but the whole swamp thing works for him).

To set this up, this guy looks just like Santa Claus. That's all I can really say - same size, same beard, same hair...Santa. When he came out, he was wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts that were tied with a piece of rope and hanging dangerously low. Oh yeah, he also had an enormous dog bone.

He was wrestling a little guy whose gimmick was I guess just being really muscular and not unattractive (too muscular in my opinion...but that's just me...although The Boyfriend made a couple comments indicating he didn't believe me when I said it). They threw each other about, Moondog with a crazed grin and look in his eye. To our left, we heard a woman in her 60's start yelling.

"Bite 'im! Bite 'im Moondog!! Get 'im!"

We later realized this was Mrs. Moondog, and she was aggressively cheering her man on (I'd like to think that The Boyfriend would be that supportive if I were a pro wrestler). Her chanting became frenzied as he closed the deal. The pretty boy in a speedo was on his back underneath Moondog's hulking stomach. The victor stood up, pretended to beat the loser with his bone, lifted his leg over his opponent in mock urination, and began to bark.

He barked all the way out of the ring.

We have already decided to go back next month.