Mudd Wrasslin’

Work was slow on Friday night, so I left early and went to the Stadium Bar to watch mud wrestling. Never having been to a mud wrestling match, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Would it be sexy wrestling, like the Miller Lite ads or would it be real I-want-to-kick-your-ass fighting? I had no idea, but with a drunken Ewaz by my side, I was going to find out.

The parking situation outside the bar was a nightmare. Cars were haphazardly parked everywhere. We parked a goddamn mile away, and when we finally made it past the retard bouncer and the even more retarded dude who collected our ten-dollar admission fee, it was already half time. We got some drinks and found some seats in the bleachers with Sean, Danny, Timmer and Fancyface.

Now the Stadium Bar is not cool. Some of you whazzers might know it as Jingles. Basically this place is a shed next to Camp Randal. During home football games it makes bank, but on a normal Friday there are usually around three people in there counting the bartender and the bouncer. So this bar has to get creative to make money. They went ahead and divided their parking lot into two sections. In section one they dumped a shitload of sand and put up volleyball nets. In section two, they put up some rickety ass bleachers and invited some lunatics over to put on a mud wrestling show.

The overall crowd was a mixture of curious college kids and young professionals, hillbillies and biker types. Lots of Harley t-shits. Lots of bad teeth. Lots of tattoos and piercings. The volleyball players were curious about the mud wrestling, and they kept looking over the fence, which really pissed off the mud wrestlers because the volleyball players didn’t pay the admission fee. This led to a mild skirmish when the dude in charge of the mud sprayed the peeping volleyball players with a hose. One athletic chap used his volleyball jumping ability to leap up and catch the mud man’s hand, nearly breaking it in the process. While this was going on, some freak named Spanky the Clown was impressing no one with his ability to blow flames out of his mouth. This was dumb until he set part of his goatee on fire.

By about our third beer, it was time for the mud wrestling to start. And though now it seems obvious, I was surprised to find that this mud wrestling show was patterned after WWE wrestling. There were belts, pre-match interviews, ect. The first match was between two chicks. They yelled at each other (we couldn’t understand a word because the sound system was the quality of a K-Mart karaoke machine) and then they jumped into the mud (which was more clay than mud) and fought for a while. Partway through the match, a person wearing an old man beard and red long underwear rushed the ring. The wrestlers pulled him in and ripped off his clothes only to reveal it was a chick. And the chick was wearing a strap on. One of the girls ripped off the muddy dong and launched it into the crowd. Overall this was the best match. The chicks did a good job of smacking each other around, they were both pretty and they both lost their tops.

Now the ladies at this event fell into three categories:
1. The professional mud wrestlers. They were all overweight biker/raver/Nine Inch Nails chicks. None were pretty but they all made the false assumption that everyone wants to see their tits.
2. The local talent. This included two chicks from the volleyball league, three co-eds and two Stadium Bar bartenders.
3. The hired guns. After almost seven years in the Madison Hotel biz, I’ve become pretty familiar with our local call girls and strippers. The mud wrestling people must come into town, open up the phone book to strippers, and hire a few. One of them was a girl who is friends with Whorie The Friendly Whore. You all remember her, right? The first and best match featured hired guns.

The dudes were made up of only one type of guy: failed professional wrestlers. My god were they pathetic. At first I thought that I recognized the guy in charge of the Mud, and then it hit me. I once saw him wrestle at a minor league wrestling show that took place at a dog track about four years ago. Give it up dude. Give it up.

The next match featured Spanky the Clown vs two of the female pros. Uneventful, but it did feature the two moves that must occur in every mud wrestling match: spankings and the oh-my-god!-I-just-feel-on-you-and-now-it-looks-like-we’re-humping-move.

The next match was some tool named Hardcore Hank vs two chicks. Mercifully it ended when Hardcore jumped off a fifteen-foot ladder ONTO NOBOBY! He climbed the fucking ladder and then jumped off. The only good news is he hurt himself for real.

The next match was a three way between three college girls. I have no idea how they got them to do this. At first they playfully slapped each other around, but then some deranged “pro” jumped in and started hurting them for real. This was a bit disturbing, and after a few minutes the three just up and left. The next mach was two volleyball girls. The notable aspect of the Volleyball girls match was a “pro” jumped in and tried to slap them around like they did to the three co-eds, but the volleyball chicks were tough as hell and they ended up kicking her ass.

The other matches kind of blended together. The MC spent too much time trying to make us care about the history of the MWO, and they mostly featured the “pros”. Right before the last match the MC announced a license plate and said the car was about to be towed. Danny then dropped his beer and raced off into the night, and we didn’t see him again. The last match featured a Stadium Bartender vs A 400 pound Samoan lady (winner Samoan Lady).

Overall this was way dumb, but an interesting deviation from the Friday night norm. I saw lots of gross naked chicks, got mud all over me, and I can check “watch mud wrestling” off my life’s To-Do list.

21 thoughts on “Mudd Wrasslin’

  1. AND MY GODDAMN WEDDING! YOU ARE THE USHER. HOW WILL PEOPLE BE USHED AROUND IF YOU ARE IN SOME PARADISE HOTEL WITH A FLOOZY.

  2. EWaz, I need your contact info for the invites to the rehersal dinner. What is your phone #/email address?

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