Amanda Hamilton had always wanted to be a wrestler. She watched it on the TV almost religiously, catching all the shows on the television set in her bedroom.
With high-flying cruiserweights, powerful heavyweights, despicable heels and heroic faces, the world of professional wrestling held a special allure in the eyes of the young vixen.
Such an allure, in fact, that, as soon as she left secondary school, she headed straight to wrestling school to learn how to grapple.
It was thrilling to be taught how to wrestle, and she paid much more attention on how to properly apply a headlock that she ever did learning about history in school.
But as fun as the wrestling training was, there was still a problem.
Her sitbiscuit. Her second face. Her bounce-house. Her vertical smile. Her Grand Canyon.
Much like in secondary school, her big, fat, wobbling chocolate buns were still the desire of all of the boys in her wrestling class.
But now, instead of smashing their heads in instantly, she had a release: she could smash their heads in inside the wrestling ring! Brilliant!
The next Christmas, her Dad got her her first wrestling singlet. It matched her red eyes and was embroidered on the hips with her favourite words: SOD OFF.
DamnedNDelirious
