Ladies, Get Ready to Rev Up Your Engines--Watch MMA!

Ladies, don't you enjoy seeing something new and exciting--something you may have never seen before?

Remember back in high school when two guys were fighting to defend some popular girl's honor and everybody who was anybody gathered around to watch "the big fight?"

Well, nowadays you don't have to stand with your hands over your eyes pretending that you are too embarrassed to be watching the hot display of testosterone (which can still be replayed in a dream later in the night in  greater erotic detail without censure.)

This isn't the stuff high school teenage dramas spring from; this is the real deal with professionally well-buffed up, muscular bodies, but not the muscle bound body builder type that can't even stoop over to tie his own shoe laces, let alone knock your socks off by actually doing something athletic. 

MMA men are the closest thing to the male gods chiseled in marble by sculptors of old.  Real men, sweaty men, with all but their manhood revealed for your viewing pleasure.

So don't be all prudish and embarrassed by watching a sport that may rev your engine and turn you on to a fighting sport that you and your husband can watch safely (without being in danger of being crushed by a crowd, like in high school.)

Hallelujah!  You can indulge your wildest fantasies of men with incredible bodies who also possess almost unheard of, unimaginable skills, including the most amazing submissions you have ever dreamed of, as in rear naked chokes, and flying arm bars; twisting and punching in ways you will never witness outside of the octagon.

There are no trumped up story lines or hokey costumes as in that phoney " pseudo-sport" of WWE, "professional wrestling."

Just pure fighting on the most professional level you and your male significant other will ever see.

It is legal, the sport is pure and not adulterated.  And you can experience all the thrills in the comfort of your own living room, wearing as little restrictive clothing as you wish, no uncomfortable shoes or standing in line forever and then sitting exposed to the cruel sun (baseball), stale arena beer and nacho smells and jostling crowds doing the wave (basketball), or wind-blown, rain-soaked stadium crowds (football); you can let down you hair and eat snacks barefoot if you want.

All the comforts of home (because you are home), no need to hire a sitter (the kids are snug in bed), leaving you and your husband to enjoy the hot male and female (beautiful and shapely ring girls--at a safe distance) bodies, and not having to dress up, suck your gut in and wear uncomfortable heels; feeling as if you are in a competition too (with the other people present in a crowded arena). 

Oh the joys of watching 'live' events at home!

Why not let your husband enjoy his macho fantasies while having a few of your own?

Another aspect of said events are the interviews held in the ring after the fight. In most instances you will be pleasantly surprised to hear in the fighter's own words an explanation of how he accomplished his win.  These athletes, with few exceptions, are articulate and well spoken, some having exotic accents which are very pleasing to the ear.

Imagine it--athletes with intelligence!  You probably never encountered that in high school.

Once you have had the luxury of learning to enjoy the sport at home you may find a yearning to see a future event at an arena near you.  Thanks to Dana White there is an effort to place events in every state in the union as well as in several different countries--can you say vacation?

While home viewing is great, the electricity experienced in the arena is unlike anything you have previously experienced.  Everyone should attend at least one event for this thrill.

Saving the best for last: MMA personalities are very approachable and make themselves available before and even after some events to sign autographs. How many NBA or NFL players do that?

So take an old gal's advice and get in on the fun.

Remember, NASCAR is not something that lends itself to erotic dreams about its participants.  Frankly, I would rather dream about Patrick Cote or Georges St. Pierre than some guy in a colorful protective body suit no matter how colorfully it is decorated.

Why should Jamie Presley and Mandy Moore have all the fun?