So It's Come To This: Mixed Martial Arts is the New Poker

Ah, back at last following my lengthy, quarter-long sabbatical. I, like the Iraqi and American Congresses, have enjoyed spending the summer doing absolutely nothing other than poking my prick around the clock. The reason I've been doing absolutely nothing other than poking my prick around the clock is two-fold: Firstly, I like to emulate the people whom my Grade-fuckin'-A public school teachers always told me were the shining stars of our society, and that, of course, would be our honorable elected leaders. Sparing no expense, I also poked my prick into some brush during this summer, lest President Rodeo Curious George Governor Bush go unemulated. The second reason for my doing nothing but poking my prick this summer (whether it be out in the open or in some brush) is teenagers. Not all teenagers, mind you, just the ones between (and including) the ages of thirteen to nineteen.

What, exactly, is the inability of said teenagers to shut the fuck up during a God damn movie? This is the primary reason why I didn't see Knocked Up or The Bourne Ultimatum, two movies that I knew would be swarmed with them. Thankfully, school's starting up again this week, which means I can finally drag my ass into a theater for Balls of Fury and Superbad, accompanied by the sound of me laughing and absolutely nothing the fuck else. To give you an idea of how shitty it is to go to the movies in the summer, here's a record of my internal monologue from Live Free or Blow Hard (I would've seen Transformers that day, but I got duped into seeing this piece of shit, which, as I expected, completely ruined the first three Die Hard movies for me), courtesy of my personal court stenographer: No, Johnny is not in this theater. No, Johnny will not meet you at the fucking Burger King after the movie. No, no one in your group wants to get up to get your drinks refilled. No, no one thinks your 50 fucking Cent/static-with-a-beat ring tone is cool. Yes, I will jam your God damn cell phone up your ass if you don't turn off the fucking backlight and the sound to your stupid fucking Tetris clone. But, I digress. On to the topic.

There used to be a time when Mixed Martial Arts (abbreviated MMA; also known as Ultimate Fighting, Cage Fighting, or the Blue Oyster Bar) was impossible to come by outside of Japan. Japan was where big, three hundred pound Americans would go to get their asses kicked by a pasty, eighty pound Nintendo rep in a headband. Chances were that if you were watching MMA back in the early 90s, you were breaking some kind of local law simply by viewing it. But then the state sporting commissions got involved, threatened to arrest participants and organizers if they didn't "clean the sport up", and hence the ballshots went the way of the Scaly Large-Cocked Dwarf Dodo of Siberia as the sport gained more and more popularity (you'd think that more ballshots would equal more ratings and visc-versa, but apparently not).

Now, MMA is fucking everywhere. For every decent MMA organization, there's one that sucks, and for every great MMA organization, there's ten that totally suck. Television is completely oversaturated with them. Bob Sapp can only floor so many fools before even he gets tired and winds up needing to drop excessive amounts of weight like his brother. As for Chuck Liddell, imagine how bad his life is: he used to cushion his fist with the teeth of those inferior to him, and now he can't even close his hand in the ring thanks to state sporting commissions. MMA's turned into the hot new thing, just like Poker, and like all hot new things, Poker included, it's going to shrivel and die because of it. The only thing we can hope is that years from now, Chuck Liddell will figuratively cushion his fist with the teeth of those inferior to him as he bluffs them out of all their money in the "Legends of Mixed Martial Arts Poker Tournament", where all proceeds will go to charities supporting the now-destitute legends of Mixed Martial Arts.

:: sigh :: Well, there's still football.

Scout.com - NFL Rule changes for 2006: "If possible, rushing defenders must make a conscious effort to avoid low hits on the quarterback. Previously, defenders were not compelled to make a conscious effort to avoid low hits if momentum was a factor. Penalty: Roughing the passer, loss of 15 yards.
"Reason for the change: Player safety."

... Fuck.