Ironbull's blog

The beatitudes according to a middle aged boxer/wrestler

Blessed are the diligent. They will train hard and look good in their gear. Pump those pistons baby...

Blessed are the patient. They will discover that he really was just busy burying his grandmother at short notice (again), and will feel no need to write pissy and ranty blogs any more. They also read to the end of my rambling blogs.

Blessed are the reliable. They get all the fun. Bastards. I mean, if it was that easy, we'd all be doing it...

Blessed are the appreciative. They will understand how fortunate they are to have this connectivity and transport... and spandex (well, would you want to wrestle in bear skins...actually...now I come to think of it..).

Blessed are the secure in spirit. They won't spend time obsessed with other people's weird and bloody annoying habits like posting endless fucking profiles, deleting and repeating like some fucking spandex-clad cuckoo clock. Not that I care...

Blessed are those without any past opponents despite being on here for years. Just...bless lol ... (see also patience above).

Blessed are the group organisers, providers of venues and manufacturers of brightly coloured spandex attire. You totally rock.

Blessed are the jobbers and the heels and the bloodthirsty NHB crew. You crazy kids. The more violence you perpetrate in the ring, the less violence there will be in the streets. The world will be saved. It all makes sense to me now.

Blessed are the skilled. But only quite blessed. You do realise that its those hot pecs and muscle guts we're looking at, and not the undoubtedly impressive kick thing that took you 10 years to learn, right? But blessed anyway.

Blessed are the shallow. Like me. We'll always be optimists....