Back in the early ‘80s I had a fried who lived right across the street from the Fabulous Moolah’s Rasslin’ camp.
On Saturday evenings, just before we played poker, we would gather in the front yard to heckle the rasslers who would drive down the road to party with the Moolah.
Flair would usually be there and would always give us a thumbs up and hearty “WOOO!” as he drove by.
And another friend was the nephew of Moolah.
fried=friend