Natalya + Martin = 4ever

“What is love?”

As I dug my spoon into my fourth Muller Crunch Corner of the evening, shirtless…crying in the mirror. I glanced down at what remained and asked the yoghurty crunchy goodness if it would do me a favour.

“Baby….dont hurt me”

It had been a bad day. They come and go when you’re on your own. Sometimes the freedom is great. Other times the soul crushing loneliness leads you to a point where all you can think about is eating snack foods in the mirror. Looking at the disgrace that is your existence. This was one time too many though. I blacked out, and came to 3 hours later, beard aw caked in yoghurt. Chin tucked to into my chest like I had an off switch on my back, someone had pressed it and I shut down like a computer. This had to be the last time. There had to be better way. Not only did I need someone to love me, I needed a shirt. I needed a chance to kill these two birds with one stone. Or one tweet to be more specific. So I took to Twitter. I thought “why not start at the very top and work our way down?” so I went to my dream woman. The technical wrestling goddess known as Natalya Neidhart. I offered her a proposition.



To provide some background, I’ll let you know, I’ve tweeted Natalya a few times. I like a joke ye see. A giggle. Its my thing, and while my appreciation for her talents and striking beauty were real, in the past I’d tweeted her things to make people laugh. Mutual followers would see me tweet her asking if she wanted to walk along the Largs Main Street wae me, enjoying a an Ice Cream, perhaps followed by a Chip Roll, cause we don’t adhere to yer usual “Desert comes last” rules. We don’t conform. Trendsetters. She’d never replied until now, because she probably didn’t have the beginnings of a clue as to what I was on about. Or maybe she did and she was scared of how she felt about it all? maybe now she was finally getting to grips with her yearning for me and it had all gotten too much, either way…it was a yes. Providing I purchased that t-shirt, I was in. My first toe dipped back into the love pool, had been a triumphant one. I was nervous, but excited. I doubted my abilities to make her happy long-term, because I’ve found in the past that the more a lady gets to know me, the less they like. I can be pedantic. I can over think things. I can be anti-social. I can be incredibly modest and perhaps most annoyingly, whenever we go out, every single person of any gender or sexual orientation wants to make love to me. Now wasn’t the time to think about what the future held though. Now was the time to focus on the positives, and to hatch a plan. Step one? I had me a t-shirt to buy

1. Buy the t-shirt

Simple. The easiest part of all this, aside from fighting my deep seeded instincts as a Scotsman to part with £25. It wasnt even a judgement call this time though. Woman of yer dreams says yes to a proposal providing you buy her merch? you do that shit. Here’s a completely non specific confirmation of the purchase via email.


It was done. Easy. Now all that was left to do is wait. Not so easy though, remember I told ye I was a bit of an overthinker earlier on? well that kicked in…big time. That’s when part 2 of the plan had to kick in. Thats when the thinking caps had to go on.

2. How do we keep her happy?

Its a code I’ve yet to be able to crack when it comes to the fairer sex. How do we keep them happy? they’re complexed creatures, with aw the hair, and the smelling nice and the unfathomable capacity for pure evil. It’s an eternal struggle. I love how compassionate, inspiring and soft skinned they can be, but I also worry that getting too involved with any of them can eventually lead to yer baws being stapled to yer chin while you sleep. Like I say it’s a delicate balance. So I got the brain trust together and we though of ways to keep her happy long-term. In case you’re wondering who the “brain trust” is, in my case it’s just me and Bruno. Oh you don’t know Bruno? well allow me to introduce you to my oldest friend, and the wisest guy I know. Give the nice readers a wave Bruno my man!


Me and Bruno were up all night going over it. How do you keep the perfect woman happy. Shower her with gifts? nah that wont work, you’ll run out of things to buy her eventually, and then it turns into homemade shit. Coupon books for free hugs, and rides on the Smithy express (thats my penis and the ‘express’ part is giving plenty of warning for potential premo ejac problems) and all that. Is it all about sex? do I have to learn how to be really good at that? I bought a book called “Sex Tips For Neat Guys” aff Amazon, but that was before the best idea of all came into my head. So simple yet so brilliant. Bruno agreed that this shit was bananas. A winner. I simply wouldn’t move again….ever.
What do I mean by that? Is it like a metaphor. Does it mean I’m going to try to not make mistakes? naw mate, I was going to become a statue. After the vows were exchanged, and the wedding night was taken care of, I’d just stand still. Forever. My reasons for this course of action were simple. People can’t divorce statutes. It’s not possible. For a divorce to go through, there has to irreconcilable differences. There has to be papers signed. There has to be problems. There has to be two functioning humans involved, and in this case there would only be one. Professional wrestler Natalya Neidhart…married to a statue. Over time she’d get used to it. I told myself she’d appreciate how much of a good listener I was, and how reliable I was because I was always there. In the same spot. No chance for complacency to set in, and overeating to become a problem either, because statutes can’t eat. No chance to develop any kind of substance abuse issues because statutes cant have substances. This was bulletproof. Nothing to lose. This was titanium.

Now her long-term happiness was ensured, I had to address the elephant in the room. The elephant known as “Tyson Kidd”

3. How to solve a problem like Tyson Kidd

It only occurred to me once part 2 of the plan was complete and me and Bruno were out at TGI Fridays celebrating with some Cheeky Vimtos, that there was a problem. Natalya Neidhart was not a single lady. She wasn’t even just in a relationship, she was married. To her partner of 12 years. Fellow professional wrestler TJ Wilson, also known as Tyson Kidd. An extremely talented man in his own right, but perhaps more importantly, a man who could fight. A man who knew a lot of other guys who could fight. My only hope was that when he did come for me, I’d be prepared, so I took to social media and comprised an army. A merry band of wrestling fans who would stand shoulder to shoulder with me and fight in the name of true love. My call to arms was met warmly….



So I had my army. Along with a few of my nearest and dearest whose participation was a given, I had my soldiers. We might not be the fittest, we might not be the meanest, we might not even be all be fully aware of where we are most of the time, but by christ, we had heart. Each and every one of us knew that we might have to die for this cause, and we were prepared. So Tyson. I have the utmost respect for you and your abilities, but if you want to stand in the way of true love, you’re going to have to get through us. Me and whos army? my army. This army. These brave men and women. I believe in them, and they believe in me. Or they at least like me enough to not judge me too harshly when I eventually fuck this up.

So what was left now I had compiled an impenetrable army?

4. Sealing the deal.

All that remained was waiting for the t-shirt to get here really. That’s when this thing becomes real. And by “real” I mean “legally binding”. Considering this only happened two days ago, I was shocked to come in from my morning badminton session at the local YMCA to see a package laid out neatly on my bed. I feverishly tore it open and there it was. My ticket to happiness. My wedding ring. If you like it then you should definitely put a t-shirt on it. Thing is, while the t-shirt was essentially my wedding ring, I didn’t have one to give her. As a skint student, I didn’t have the means, so what in the name of god was I supposed to do? When a lady as classy as Nattie gives you a chance to make her yours, you can’t just come up with nothing. So I racked my brain. Whats the next best thing to a wedding ring? a good enough placeholder that offering it up wont be a an embarrassment. And finally I had it! I considered making a nice up of tea, and putting a really arty photo of it up with caption “Will you ‘tea” mine for eternity?” but Bruno immediately dismissed that as stupid. I considered pulling a vital organ out, and offering that up, but that was quickly dismissed as dangerous and, in Brunos words “Impossible without a scalpel, or a dog with really sharp teeth” I saw a sadness come over him when he told me that, realising that his own teeth wouldn’t be adequate for the task. He didn’t have any teeth ye see, cause he’s a teddy.

Then it came to me!

What do you give the girl who has everything? the perfect career, dynamite skill set and a beautiful kaboose? Jewellery aint enough man. A ring isn’t what her heart desires. Some really deep poetry wasnt going to get the job done either, but there was something. Something else. Something different. Something special babe.

It’s Buff Bagwell in a box.


It had been in front of me the whole time. If you buy  girl a ring, what can she do with it? wear it? sure. Show it off to people? of course. Can she pair it with a Scott Norton action figure and work average Nitro matches with it? I don’t think so buddy. Can you do that with a Buff Bagwell action figure in a box? I think you’re a smart enough guy to answer that one for yourself.

5. The proof

So the only thing left to do really was prove that I had indeed bought the t-shirt, and I did look EXTRA dashing in it. As you can see below, I had that shit covered.


6. Last but not least…the wedding

Guy’s we’re going to have a slip n slide involved somewhere. The cake will be made of pink french fancies, and cookie dough ice cream and there will be a bouncy castle shaped like a wrestling ring involved at the reception somewhere. Essentially this is going to be the greatest day since the beginning of time. Like any wedding, there is the question of gifts. What do you get for perfect couple? well as this is a celebration of us coming together in Holy Matrimony, and since I’m a skint student. I need you guys to put the “Monaaaay” into Matrimony, and in case yer not getting the joke, I mean I’d like you to give us cash. Lots of it, so I’ve got enough pocket-money to occupy myself while Nattie’s on the road all the time. See the statue thing from earlier only applies when we’re in the same room, the rest of the time I’m free to do what I like, and I like theme parks. So that’s where I’ll be spending my time while my beautiful princess is out there locking in sharpshooters and being her fantastic self. Essentially I’m asking you to raise enough money to allow me to live at a theme park.

Of course this all depends on Natalya going through with it all. Maybe she’s got cold feet over the past few days? I wouldn’t blame her. Sure her and Tyson might have gone a wee bit stale, but its safe. It’s what she’s used to. She’ll naturally be apprehensive to take a walk on the wild side with a slick talking Glaswegian boy like myself, but its a beautiful night Natalya. We’re looking for something dumb to do. Hey darlin.

I think I wanna marry you.

Is it that look in your eyes?
Or is it this dancing juice?
Who cares Natty.

I think I wanna marry you.

Just say I doooooooooo. Ooooo…ooooo.

1 thought on “Natalya + Martin = 4ever

  1. Pingback: The Daily Thing – Day Seven ( |

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