I went to Ben and Vern’s last night for Ben’s birthday. It was also a UFC Fight Night. I’m not so much a fan of inbred, steroid abusing, mental midgets with cauliflower ear growths, but I do enjoy hanging out with my friends and making dumb comments to a group of people too drunk to know I’m not funny.
Past suggestions have included requiring the loser to be eaten by lions, letting the fighters make out if they’re going to stand that close to one another, and simply allowing whomever has the coolest accent to win. The accent thing was confirmed when some British guy walked into the ring to Blur’s “Song 2.” Everyone else walks into the ring seemingly unaffected by their music, but this guy was pumping his fist and singing along to Britpop. Huge smile. Huge semi-toothless smile, but still, it was a smile.
When one of last night’s fighters won with a vicious knee to his opponent’s solar plexus, he addressed the crowd with the self-congratulatory phrase I hate most:
“First, I’d like to thank God…”
Really. You’d like to thank God. The same God who allegedly made “all of this” possible, and who also approves of you beating other people into submission. I may not believe in this God, but I do have 12 years of theology class behind me, so I can say with some confidence that this fellow probably doesn’t understand the concept of God. Or, you know, proper nouns or simple arithmetic.
Clearly none of you want to hear about my issues with a future domestic abuser’s relationship with his deity of choice, so I’ll defer to Rob Delaney, whose Twitter is so awesome that even though I don’t even have a Twitter, I’ve bookmarked his feed so I don’t forget about the funniest stuff I’ve ever read.
Rob Delaney says: “What screams “I’m a date rapist!” more, screaming “I’m a date rapist!”, or wearing Tapout brand clothing?”
Why can’t these fighters channel their aggressions problems creatively? Like this drummer? Who at about :42 on is the most awesome musician to ever play a high school reunion at a VFW hall?