>I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. It was 1992, and the situation in Yugoslavia was rapidly deteriorating, with tensions escalating into a brutal civil war. As a Canadian professional wrestler, I was known for my technical skills and meticulous attention to detail in the ring, but I also took an interest in global affairs and humanitarian issues. So, I decided to broach the subject with Hogan, hoping to get his perspective on the grave situation at hand.
>I cleared my throat, and Hogan, busy piling more buttered buns onto his plate, barely glanced my way. His trademark blonde mustache twitched as he let out a booming laugh, his blue eyes twinkling with self-assurance.
>"Hey there, brother," he said in his booming voice, "What's on your mind?"
>I took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. "I was just wondering, Hogan," I began tentatively, "if you had any thoughts on the situation in Yugoslavia that's unfolding."
>Hogan paused for a moment, a buttered bun halfway to his mouth, and looked at me with a bemused grin. He seemed unfazed by the gravity of the situation, as if the world outside the wrestling ring was a distant concern.
