
Yes, I’m going to talk about Mio Momono again. No, I won’t apologise about it. If any other wrestlers ever get that good, I promise to go on about them incessantly, too.
I’m sad to admit it, but Mio is making glorious failure her trademark. Even when she succeeds, it’s inevitably followed by a crushing fall. As a fan of the Scottish football team, it’s all painfully familiar, and as I’ve firmly attached myself to the Momono express, I feel like I’ve cursed myself to spend even more time with my head in my hands dreaming about what could have been. I can’t help it. Mio makes me care, and it doesn’t matter if I try to sit back to watch from a position of detached cool – she always succeeds at drawing me in.
Continue reading “Mio Momono’s Glorious Failure”









