Applications Accepted Here

As far as I know, I have no enemies. I have a need for one. I am putting out an APB for one. Currently accepting applications. If you already hate my guts, then perfect! Fill out an application, because you are at the top of my list and have the most credentials for the job. Or if you are on my friend list and wish to make the switch, now if the time kids for I won't consider you a traitor-it'll be for a good cause. Fence sitter? Pick a team. You can't have cake and not digest it too.

Why would one want an enemy? Two words, my potential enemies. Mud Wrestling.

I was watching I love 1981: 3D-always amazing-when it did a little bit about a mud wrestling show. I don't know if it was the Sally Jesse Raphael of mud wrestling, but the idea sounded nice to me! So that got me thinking...I need someone to have a beef with me. So naturally I went to my mental Rolodex, I scrolled through to my enemy list, only to find it nonexistent. Perfect. To Do List: Find/Make an enemy, Find/Make Up/Steal an Awesome/Intimidating moniker, Find/Make a Fancy Fighting Suit.

First up on the agenda, my outfit. Not that I don't want to go Nacho Libre on all contenders, because believe you me I totally do! It's just that I don't think it would be fair to scar your tender precious retinas with all my wobbly bits on display for all to ogle jostling around reminding you that you forgot to saran-wrap the jello jigglers before you left the house-that is unless I charged admission. So for the sake of you my sweet, potentially cheering audience, I have chosen to keep it classy and don a formal gown, frolic in the mud, and administer a mud facial-complete with a mud bath for the rotting gums-to the dirty girl that stole my baby's' daddy while I have her straddled in a full-body-pin. 4 points for a takedown. Back off you desperate Sally Jesse Raphael writers, I thought of it first.