Paul Heyman and Dreams

The guys are back watching wrestling again, which means I am, kind of, too. I had turned away for a long time because I felt like I was just watching people slowly killing themselves and, potentially, setting themselves up to kill others. Chris Benoit.

I still kind of feel that way.

But man, I love watching Paul Heyman, who doesn’t wrestle. He doesn’t do anything but shoot of his big mouth. And it’s glorious. I feel like you rarely see a man be such a perfect fit for the job he has, but dude is it.

I had a long, drawn-out nightmare about being terrible in bed, but with a partner too polite to say anything. And even typing that sentence makes me laugh. If ever there were a hangup I have about things, it’s being allowed to do them even when I’m terrible at them, everyone knowing I’m terrible, and people being too nice to say so.

Taunt me with something original, subconscious. God.