Linda Bollea was recently interviewed by MiamiHerald.com about her new book, “Wrestling the Hulk: My Life Against the Ropes,” where she sounded off about her ex-husband Hulk Hogan’s alleged infidelity (well, when you’re with a washed-up hag like Linda and your hot daughter is trotting her hotter friends around the house, whatcha gonna do?) and how Hogan’s broken-down body couldn’t keep up with Linda’s… needs (shudder).
I was in a long, stale marriage for so long. Wrestlers have injuries. They’re not able to go and do. My husband had so many knee and hip problems. He couldn’t ride a Jet Ski, go skiing, ride horses. Now I’m with someone who can keep up with all my Italian energy!
Filming actually kept our family together longer than it would have lasted. Terry and I were barely talking, and he didn’t look at me in the eye. I didn’t know at the time he was doing Christiane in our bedroom.
There ya go, brother!
Ever the expert, Linda also spends time in her book giving advice to women who may be similar situations (that is, being rode-hard leathery hags with gargantuan professional wrestlers for husbands):
If things are bad, don’t turn a blind eye. Don’t stay because it’s safe or scary out there. Don’t make excuses for your own unhappiness. Grow a set and move on!
Yeah, ya’ dumb fuckin’ bitch, grow a set! Slam a beer and bash him over the head with the bottle! (Wow, the white trash landfill doth overflow.)
In other white trash, V-level celebrity gossip, Jonny Fairplay and “America’s Next Below Average Model” Michelle Deighton have announced their split. (But they looked so happy on that beacon of great TV, “Dr. Phil”!) According to Prowrestling.net, Fairplay Tweeted this gem:
“Yes, I am separated,” Fairplay wrote on his Twitter page. “Michelle was served with separation papers on Friday. I wish her the best in her future endeavors.”
I would post more, but I’m so doubled over with laughter about this wrestling nobody’s inside joke about “future endeavors” that I might go vomit into a fucking toilet. Whatever, you troll, go find another stripper and woo her over the breakfast buffet. Make a baby and name it “Hot Rod.” Blecch. -Eric