Wrestling at Work

I don't really watch pro wrestling on tv, I never really liked the stuff...plus my mom would always comment on how much she hated it when I would leave it on the wrestling channel, which actually caused me to watch at times just to be annoying. Anyways, I have seen enough wrestling to know a few characters and to know how the whole wrestling theatre works...now I am just getting random. But I figured out why I like my job...I feel like a WWF promoter with the size and personalities of some of the guys I work with. I am just a little scared that someday one of them will try to break a chair over my back or throw me onto a table. For starters, This one guy who just started is seven feet tall...not kidding. And he isn't a beanpole, this guy has to weigh half a ton. Then there is my team leader who is nothing other than the spitting image of "the Rock", I was trying to joke around the other day and when he came in to work I said, "Can you smelllll what the Rock is cookin!"...I think I peed myself a little when he didn't smile at first, actually he never smiles, but I think he liked it a little...I hope he liked it a little. Then there is the "small" one. He is about 6'4", loaded with 275 pounds of Texas soul power. He has brothers who play football at Wisconsin and SMU, and still has a little chip on his shoulder I think that he didn't make it. I think the one time I made him laugh was when I was trying to break a piece of plywood in half by propping it up next to a wall...then I ran and jumped feet first full steam, and that plywood didn't break one bit...the whole momentum came back at me and I was launched onto my back on the ground. I was soo glad that someone saw it because I would have been mad to complete such a feat without anyone watching. Actually he laughed really hard again today when I hit my head on a steel beam...I'll do anything to please a crowd I guess. Then there is the former Golden Glove boxing champion, he is older but he looks like Hulk Hogan, handlebar mustache included, you can hear the guy laugh across the store. And finally my partner in crime Santiago "Jimmy" Martinez, about my height but has about four of my dad's bellies, I call him the cuadroople scoop. He wishes he was black and talks with a lisp, still trying to grow a mustache since he was 12. You can imagine how fun and interesting it is to work around a bunch of guys all day that could twist me into a pretzel. It's fun to be the minority, in Utah everyone is skinny and white, here I stick out like a sore thumb. Anyways, sorry to bore you with stuff about my work but I thought you might like to know who I work with every day. I think I might be a fan of wrestling now...sorry mom.

By the way, I can't resist this one...I would like to congratulate my dad on learning how to navigate the internet last night. He called me last night to figure out how to get onto my blogsite, and I explained for 15 minutes what to type into the address bar (and what the address bar is). I think that maybe he still has all of his stocks and investments in the business of slave trading and that the internet is just a fad. Sorry dad, if you can still read this...CONGRATULATIONS!