Winner isn't Everything, It's the ONLY Thing!

Alright, so maybe I'm a little competitive. Maybe I am that person who can't be behind that slower car, or finds myself subconsciously walking faster so I can get to the door first. I have no problem with this. I think healthy competition is a fine catalyst to action. And besides, I also believe I'm better than everyone else and love the opportunity to prove it.

It's funny how competition can affect your relationships with people. Justine and I are naturally competitive with each other. We don't know any other way. I'd think that it's probably a big part of why we're still friends...we won't stop hanging out with each other until we finally figure out who wins. That's how friends work, right?

And then there's girlfriends. I forgot what a delicate balance it is competing against someone that you're going to later have to convince to have sex with you. Like last night...

I'm a huge fan of wrestling. I love it. The act of wrestling, not the crappy big sweaty men throwing chairs and belts at each other. I mean down and dirty, throwing each other around, limbs entwined, forcing someone down and....hold on...I need a minute...

Okay, seriously, I enjoy the sport of it, and yeah, sometimes the sexy stuff helps, depending on who you're wrestling. So I date these women, tell them I like to wrestle, they get all keen and challenge me. And it usually goes like this:

1) They attack me
2) We wrestle
3) I start to win/restrain
4) They yelp/tell me I'm hurting them (which I usually am not...really)
5) I stop wrestling, check with great concern if they are okay
6) They attack me again, and then proceed to do some sort of move/play that involves hurting me in order to win
7) I yelp in pain
8) They don't stop, I leave bruised and annoyed

Annette's move of pain used to be "crabby claws". She'd make hooks with her hands and press her jabby claws into my collarbone. It frikkin' kills. Kate, on the other hand, opts for a much more simple approach...punches in the stomach, hard pinches, and some gas pedalling.

I don't punch anyone in the belly when I'm wrestling! I don't pinch, I don't press on bones, and I don't gas pedal! I am a responsible wrestler with my girls. I don't squeeze too hard, and most of my wrsetling just consists of putting them in some sort of submissive position involving me restraining them. You know what happens then? They get mad, insist I let them go, then attack me again and punch/pinch/gas pedal me until I restrain them again. And this is supposed to be fun.

So what's the point? There is no point. There is no winning. There is just women (which I love), wrestling (which I love) and losing (which I hate) in order to get to have sex (which I love). Three out of four ain't so bad.