Today is a good day. 

For many reasons, really.  Number one: I’m going to a special screening of Iron Man 2 tonight!  Downey + Rourke + Cheadle + Sam Jackson = mega-swoon.  That’s a swoon of epic proportions, just for the first two alone.  That, and if the movie is even close to being as enjoyable as the first one, I will be a happy camper.  So I’ve got something to look forward to after work. 

Russell T. Davies and the good Doctor

We also have two fabulous “celebrity” birthdays to celebrate today.  First, let’s hear it for Russel T. Davies, writer and producer of the new Dr. Who series.  He’s done some brilliant work, brought some pure genius to the show, and made my life about 10x happier.  He’s also responsible for the darker Torchwood series, and Queer As Folk, which I haven’t quite gotten around to yet.

Ace Frehley, shock me!

Also having been birthed today is Ace Frehley, guitarist for one of my lifelong favorites, KISS.  Maybe not the smartest guy in the group, he does play a mean lick and has penned a few winners. (Cold Gin and Shock Me are still some of my favorite KISS songs.)  And I just learned, thanks to Wikipedia, that he was once in a street gang with Blackie Lawless called The Duckies. (Take it with a grain of salt, but it’s still rather amusing.)

Well I told you last night that I’d tell you about my wrestling guilty pleasure today.  I guess there’s not much to say really; it’s a bit strange being a female wrestling fan sometimes.  I personally don’t know any others, so any time there’s a get-together I’m usually the only chick within a ten-mile radius.  That being said, I can carry on an intelligent conversation and have a knack for predicting outcomes (I did win the betting pool at this year’s Wreslemania party).  And before you start, yes we all know that it’s fairly scripted.  The winner of the match is predetermined (usually), and the bullshit drama is often made up (and bloody terrible).  But so is your favorite soap opera.  And when’s the last time you saw Adam Chandler take a chair to the face?  You wish!  That’s what it boils down to, really: wrestling is a soap opera with real blood and more steroids.  And less attractive actors.  Or maybe that’s just me; I’ve never been one to go for the beefcake type, excepting once or twice. (see yesterday)   And that’s half of the strategy behind making picks for matches: you have to look beyond just ____ vs. ____ as individuals to see the greater story arc and how they fit into the big picture.  Unfortunately, my story-telling abilities sometimes get in the way and I make picks based on what I think would make a better stories rather than what I think the WWE thinks would make better stories.  It’s complicated business.  And that’s not to say that I only watch it for betting purposes, or that I’ve ever made any money off it.  It’s pure speculation. (Even the Wrestlemania pool I won was only $8.)

On that note, I did just get a bit of badass news that I’m happy to share with the likes of you all: Mick and I have decided to splurge this year, and when WWE Raw comes to the Erwin Center at the end of May, we’ll be watching from a suite.  Not just us, mind you, but a host of other friends as well.  I’m excited!  I’ve never had a box before, so this is a new fun thing for me.  Plus no irritating people around us, no signs blocking my view, no drunk guys being generally obnoxious.  Probably just me and the boys again, but that’s alright by me. 

I had some more stuff to tell you, but I’ve suddenly run out of time.  Tune in tomorrow for a product endorsement, my review of the new Mountain Dew flavors, and clarification for a reference I made to Jim Steinman in a tweet last Thursday.  Be excellent to each other, compadres.