Deserted Toon Town

Even though a lot of things have been said about me, and some of the worst things really have been proven, I think you all should remember something. If you could just see past that, see a sort of funny place where we fit just right, like a clowny-clown town, where things’d go just how they’re gonna go, and a slippery street, on a tilt, and everything in the town’s gonna slide where it wants to, and some of the people that live there have a little meeting and they say: “well there it is, proof, this town’s goin in a way I like or that I dont like.” well-l-l-l I’d be that other guy that stands up, says “yeah, they’re right, ‘cept if it’s gonna go that way, lets fight fire with fire, lets slide so often down the streets of this town, that we weigh it back down, crush that tilt that’s been wedged in there, let’s grease up, go faster!” EVERYBODY WOULD AGREE!….. THEN after some time goes by, the folks that brought up the point in the first place would start to say “Hey this phun is getting boring, the tilt we were on isn’t there any more, and w’ere all still covered in gunk slippin’ and slidin’ all over the place, just stop all this clowning around! there’s no call for it anymore! Let’s just bury all this clowning we’ve done, dig a ditch outside of town!” Then I wouldn’t really be able to say anything about it ’cause the tide would’ve turned back around , and some more time would pass with everything just going fine for everybody…but the more serious and fine everybody got, the more the memory of the slick sliding days would come back, and then it’d be a story I’d just tell to my kids, and then there kids, and then one day they’d wanna find all that clowny gunk and phun they’d burried, and that’s the day when you’d come back to my kind, that’s the day when I’d be able to defend myself to all of you.

Favre Pussies Out & We’ve ALL Got Problems

Brett Favre, one of football’s “all-time best QBs” announced his retirement yesterday. Which in my opinion is for pussies. I mean, I don’t have a job, so I’m not necessarily one to lecture about work ethics, but dude’s still got a few good seasons left in him for sure. Plus, retirement scares the shit out of me. I mean, whats left? A few years of banality and boredom while your body whithers away to nothingness and then you die. GREAT. Sign me up. Maybe we the NFL should set up a seniors league. That would actually be hilarious. Can you imagine the number of bones broken during one game of senior football? And who doesn’t LOVE watching old people suffer?

In other news, I read part of an article by Heidi Przybyla today about how “Obama has an ‘Archie Bunker’ problem.” Well, guess what, I got beef with that guy too. He was a jerk. And as far as Obama goes, at least I know how to pronounce his name without having to consult any European pronunciation guide. Przybyla. I have no idea how one would pronounce that. Perhaps the author in question should spend a little more time thinking about THAT: how her name effects other people, and a little LESS time worrying about Obama’s problems.

Kimbo Slice and the End Of Everything

The Kimbo Slice February 16 MMA Fight against Tank Abbott was a massive event I was looking forward to for at least a day and a half. It was going to be huge. The internet sensation Kimbo Slice, who’s real name is Kevin Ferguson (ha ha ha ha), was scheduled to fight some guy named Tank, which in-and-of –itself is pretty brutal, and I knew that I was down for the cause.

So down. I had seen a few of Mr. Slice’s fights on the youtube. He started out as a backyard street fighter pummeling and crushing his way through the underground circuit like a manmade force of nature. In one video I saw he hits some dude so hard he knocks off a dreadlock. It made me wish Kimbo were my buddy when I was at school in Santa Cruz.

So I’m at an all day BBQ at my friend’s house just hanging out and waiting for the fight. Through out the day I had 1) Beer 2) Zombie Bowl 3) More Beer 4) Jalapeno Poppers 5) More Beers 6) Two Hot Dogs 7) Margaritas 8 ) Some shots or something. So I’m all drunk and ready to see some shit.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but I’m not sure what I saw. What it looked like was about 45 seconds of what is clearly the product of a suburban, middle-class, white kid’s worst-ever nightmare pummeling some old, overweight, white guy into a crumpled cheeseburger wrapper to be picked up later by Jose. I mean, look at this picture:

It’s fucking King Kong versus Louie Anderson! “Tank” has his hand up like he’s screaming, no, not in the face!, but I guarantee that fist hit his face with enough power to scalp Bob Marley.

Had I known that “Tank” was a blubbery, old reject-clown I probably would not have told everyone that there was some awesome fight to witness. No, I would have told them we were gonna watch a good ol’ fashioned honkey stompin’. Kimbo knew such well before the fight: “If Tank don’t have a gun, Tank is gonna have pure hell in there with me. And if he has a gun he better have a big ass gun. You need a chopper. Cuz if you pull out a .9, or a .38, or a .45, I’m gonna run through that… He’s gonna have to pull out a chopper. Other than that he’s gonna have to see me.” Awesome.

I feel that is how Kimbo’s career as an MMA (which is Mixed Martial Arts, by the way) fighter is just going to be. However, an article I read by some guy who actually takes a continual interest in this crap said this fight was horseshit because “Tank” is an old, fat douche and Kimbo, though he has the power in his left jab of a dreadlock ripping volcano, his real martial arts moves, such as grappling and wrestling, have yet to be tested. That up against a real MMA Champion Kimbo wouldn’t stand a chance. That Kimbo Slice is just a bunch of hype.

Bullshit! Look at that behemoth. I don’t care if you can hold some one’s arm down around their balls and up their butt for days. You have to withstand a punch from Kimbo first. I’m not a fighter, but if that guy came at me, and I didn’t have a chopper, I know that the moment just after I explode shit all over my pants everything I ever thought was decent about this world will be rejected as nothing but pure fantasy, and I’d realize what the world is really about is colostomy bags, church, and eternal darkness. But that’s not what matters. What matters is that Kimbo Slice will vaporize every opponent that comes his way. His career will be a symbol for the 21st century: Relentless, unforgiving, mass devastation at our own behest while everyone is drunk and confused by how fast everything was destroyed. Except Kimbo will survive Armageddon. Arnold Schwarzenegger said, “if it bleeds you can kill it,” but I haven’t seen Kimbo bleed. And neither will any grappling, floor-wrestling ninny with no dreadlocks.