Ultimate Fighting: A Love Story

Many Ultimate Fight fans across this country and across the world are not going to like this report.  Many fight fans will be shocked and angry and puzzled and sleepy at the following facts that I have personally uncovered about their favorite sport and the men who participate in it.  After reading this report, many fight fans will probably wish to commit Hari Banana Kari, which is a form of ritualistic suicide where one consumes an undisclosed number of banana splits until one literally explodes.

They would rather endure this grotesque, yet delicious, demise than accept the following facts about Ultimate Fighting. 

1) In addition to mixed martial arts most Ultimate Fighters are also proficient in the crochet and macramé arts. 

2) Most Ultimate Fighters like to pee while sitting. 

3) Most Ultimate Fighters have more than one copy of the movie He Said, She Said in their homes.

4) When asked what their favorite pet is, most Ultimate Fighters would respond “My Teddy Bear” and then immediately bash the questioner’s brains in with a Jonathon Adler table lamp.

To the untrained eye one would watch an Ultimate Fight match and think that these men are very brave and very manly and very sweaty, and yes, they are all that, but they are also so much more.  To the trained eye Ultimate Fighting might as well be called Ultimate Loving. 

Let’s come to terms with what Ultimate Fighting really is; cage matches for sensitive men who hide their sensitivity with wanton violence and sheer brutality.  The overdose of testosterone in Ultimate Fighters is simply a cover for the F-word, and unfortunately, it’s not Fart.  It is Feelings.

Feelings are a relatively new concept to men.  Throughout history, men have been taught to hide their feelings or to simply not have feelings at all.  For a man in ancient times to show a sensitive side would mean that he was probably not up to certain tasks like raping and pillaging a town or village filled with women and children.  In medieval times a sensitive man would have never been invited to join a regiment of knights in clobbering a crowd of unsuspecting villagers because the King believed that clobbering villagers was a cure for the plague.

Then, after years of frustration, sensitive men finally turned on each other.  Sometime around the year 1433 in the middle of a peat bog a sensitive chap drew a seven-sided ring using deer antlers and sheep dung and challenged another sensitive man to a bare-knuckle fist-fight.  An astute bystander suddenly suggested that perhaps an eight-sided ring might be less retarded looking and more pleasing to the eye, not to mention that The Octagon would also sound more intimidating than The Septagon, which isn’t even a word.  After the changes were made, the very first Ultimate Fight was born.

Ultimate Fighters have put on a good show by snarling a lot and scowling a whole bunch and wearing their TapOut gear to fancy restaurants thinking that a t-shirt with a giant TapOut printed on the front is appropriate dress wear for a two-star restaurant.  However, I have it on good authority that Chuck Liddell likes to write poetry while taking long bubble baths using his favorite soap, Auburn Mist.  Kenny Shamrock once tried out for, and didn’t get, the part of Mr. Bigpants in the Broadway hit ‘Rosy Cats’.  Dejected, he turned to the only thing that could fill the massive void in his soul, pummeling other men in an octagon shaped ring surrounded by barbed wire, chain-linked electrified fencing and guard towers where snipers watch their every move.  A very famous feud broke out one time when Quinton “Rampage” Jackson wrote a love letter to his rose garden.  Not to be outdone, Randy “The Natural” Couture responded by writing a love letter to every piece of furniture in his house.  The feud finally reached its zenith when the two gladiators realized that they had written love letters to every single inanimate object in their lives, and then decided to write love letters to each other.  They decided to consummate their respect for each other by eating a light lunch at The Olive Garden.  Once, a group of Ultimate Fighters disguised themselves as snarky, big belt wearing college girls in Birkenstocks and secretly followed the Lilith Fair in the summer of 1998 and called that summer “the best and most defining time of their lives”.  Royce Gracie is known to have a 7^th degree Black Belt in Affection and Fondness.  Bas Rutten’s house has an endless loop of Evergreen by Barbra Streisand playing so that you can hear it in every nook and cranny, even under the house, which is where he keeps most of his scrapbooking projects.

These are hard facts to contend with, America.  However, there’s no need to go off and commit Hari Banana Kari over the fact that Ultimate Fighters are caring, loving, poetry writing, Real Housewives-watching men who cannot let their true emotions be known because their fans simply wouldn’t understand.  We now know this isn’t true, because behind every Ultimate Fighter is a caring, loving, poetry writing, Real Housewives-watching fan.  And isn’t that what it’s all about?  

A Tale Of Two High-Fivers

High-fiving needs to stop.  It has always been an exceptionally stupid way to acknowledge that your favorite team has just scored a point or that your friend has said something extremely witty and biting towards another friend who is not as quick to reply.  It is uncivilized and barbaric.  It is vulgar and unsophisticated.  It is the real reason that North and South Dakota went to war with East and West Dakota where the North and South wiped their high-fiving enemies completely off the map.

Our forefathers sacrificed their lives to free themselves from the brutal reign of the high-fiving British Empire.  Most people don’t know this but it was the King of England who forced the early colonists to high-five each other in taverns and then had the audacity to levy taxes on all high-fives that occurred.  Prisoners would be forced to years of hard high-fiving in labor camps all across the thirteen original colonies.  There was a famous saying that Paul Revere used to recite whenever he was drinking in a bar.  It was, “No taxation for high-fivation,” or something like that.  George Washington would give a nickel to anyone who didn’t high-five after they sunk an incredible shot at the pool hall.  The Revolutionary War was primarily fought over a single incident that occurred when a colonist wouldn’t high-five a British soldier after he whooped his butt in a game of snooker.

The ancient crazy Romans outlawed high-fiving early on in their history and as a result came up with the concept of the arch.  It seems that before the law was enacted there was rampant high-five use in Roman society and very few people were interested in moving their community forward.  By ridding Roman society of high-fives it refocused the Empire’s attention on science, math and raping and pillaging every country they could get their hands on.

Perhaps you might remember a little conflict called World War II where western civilization was on the brink of annihilation from the high-fiving Nazis.  Adolph Hitler was an ardent high-fiver and a secret ‘high-tenner’, but only around close friends and family and out of sight of the cameras.  Or maybe you might remember the time when a rowdy group of high-fiving hooligans took over a small island in the Caribbean called Grenada, where once again, the world’s armies fought back the tyranny of high-fivers that nearly brought the world to collapse once again.

Nine out of ten scientists believe that high-fiving leads to bad moral rectitude.  It’s a gateway greeting.  One day you’re high-fiving your buddies in the bar and the next day you and your buddies are calling in phony pizza orders to your neighbor that walks his dog in his bath robe.  Where does it end?  When will walking your dog in your bath robe out in public so that everyone can see your gross chest hairs and bony legs end?  Come on, guy, put some pants on!!!

Over the years, illegal high-fives have been smuggled into this country through sophisticated tunnels all along our borders and has now somehow woven its way back into our national fiber.  We have now become a nation of high-fivers.  What is wrong with a simple handshake or a point-the-finger-and-wink-like-a-gunfighter or a simple nod that says “Wow, that was some neat-o goal huh?”  We now see high-fiving going unchecked and out of control in bars and pubs across America with no end in sight.  It needs to end quickly.  Believe me, nothing good can come from high-fiving.  If we aren’t careful, high-fiving has the potential to bring our entire country to a screeching, mind numbing halt.  Take a look at history if you don’t believe me; the Mongols, the Romans, the Aztecs, the Dodo Bird, all brought down and are now extinct because of a simple, flagrant hand slap in the air.  Is this the path that we want our country to follow?  Is this the legacy that we want to leave our children and grandchildren and the beloved pets of people who are unable to have children?  We need to take a closer look at our celebratory practices in sports bars and decide if it is worth it.  My answer; No Way, Jose.  Keep the high-fives in Greenland where they belong.