I just got the WORST manicure in the history of the world and I’m pissed, so I’m more than ready to watch eight back-to-back bitch smacking, low down, hair pulling, face scratching, genital kneeing “fights”. Seriously… Do… Not… Fuck… with my nails, hair, clothes, or accessories. Incompetent manicurists and incompetent “contendahs” should both be locked in a cage and forced to defend themselves.
For the last time, fire engine red is not a SUBTLE shade!!!
Vicarious venting, along with a lot of Bailey’s on ice is sooo therapeutic…Join me in imbibing, while we explore such loaded issues as penile proximity and rear naked chokes…
Before this week’s episode, Spike TV was nice enough to televise the heavyweight title match between Mini Nogueira and Tim Silvia. I have to say that I was totally impressed. Mini finished Silvia in the third round with a guillotine choke, and it was completely clear when they were grappling that Mini was totally in control, and his only purpose for rolling around on the ground with Silvia was to choke the living crap out of him. As Mini maneuvered Silvia into position, his movements were precise, deadly and completely devoid of any of the fumbling that raises those pesky suggestions of gratuitous, latent, homosexual groping. I mean, lets face it, with some of the shall we say “lesser fighters” penile proximity seems to be a lot closer than most heterosexual men would usually feel comfortable with:
A thin piece of polyester and a little bit of plastic are all that are separating these boys from a whole new world.
This week we’re still finishing up the intro elimination fights that will decide which “contendahs” get to live in the alcohol drenched pressure cooker called the training house and which “contendahs” are sent back to their pitiful lives working at carwashes and snorting gas fumes.
Our coaches are looking as perky as ever:
He promised me a movie contract. What’d he promise you?
And, Big Daddy is eyeing the remaining sixteen fighters like an evil pimp hoping to get a last $20.00 out of their half dead carcasses.
Just do what I say and I can make you a star.
Wesley March versus John Polakowski
Wesley March is from England and looks like he’s in dire need of some good ole American Supersize Me Fast Food calorie infusions. He tells us that he feels like he’s carrying the pride of the mother country on his scrawny shoulders and quotes Winston Churchill, “Constant effort, not strength nor intelligence, is what reveals our troop’s potential.”
God, please give this man some Mickey Dees, with a side order of strength and intelligence, before it’s too late.
John Polakowski is a totally loveable wackadoodle. You know the super-sweet kid in high school that had absolutely no self-control, couldn’t sit still, and kept getting into all sorts of bad-assed trouble even though everybody swore he had a heart of gold. True to form he starts out his interview saying that he thinks he might have ADHD:
Wanna buy some Ritalin?
And, oh yeah, Wackadoodle loves to hug everybody. It makes him feel good and it makes them feel good. Because, you know, the UFC is such a touchy, feely supportive type environment. AAAWWWWW!!!
Wes and Wackadoodle are fighting in the lightweight category and Big Daddy is all excited about it.
“I like small the small guys.”
Sadly, despite being on the petite side, these guys are proving to be a little lame, and the fight starts out a lot like the big fight scene between Mark Darcy and Daniel Cleaver in Bridget Jones Diary.
Goaded to frustration, Frankie starts giving step-by-step instructions to Wes. “Turn on your right shoulder.” “Put your arm around his neck.” But, despite Frankie’s best efforts, the fight doesn’t seem to be gaining much momentum and the first round winds down to the end with Wes throwing a kick and falling. At first, I thought he lost his balance, but he’s apparently injured. Malnourished and limping the little guy is determined not to give up. Winston Churchill would have been proud. Wes is a true example of constant effort and absolutely no intelligence. After a lame half-hearted flying knee, it’s quickly determined that, despite Wes’ heroic intentions, this fight ain’t happening. Sigh!! I’ve had days like that as well.
The Wackadoodle is declared the winner and, true to form, he runs around giving out freebie hugs to anybody he can reach, including Big Daddy, the coaches, and, to his complete shock, the ref who grabs the side of the cage in panic. LOL.
I wuv you, soooo muuuch!!
Frankie and Mini have slightly different reactions to being hugged. Mini is adorable and I can’t help falling a little in love with the big lug.
“John’s a nice guy. He hugged me. I don’t mind, I like hugs.”
Frankie, on the other hand, is a little unsure of what just happened.
“I don’t know you. We shouldn’t just be embracing each other without a few drinks first, or something.”
Okay, shouts out to J-mo and Flipit. Would you like to offer any thoughts on “heterosexual” men who can only embrace each other after a few drinks? But, before the heterosexual male demographic can get too uncomfortable we have the obligatory reassuring boob shot:
Okay, everybody feeling comfortable with their woodies now?
Shane Primm Versus Sean O’Connell
Shane Primm is working at the cocky bastard persona, but it doesn’t feel like it comes completely naturally to him.
“I’m going to be around for a long, long time.”
Sean O’Connell loves Forest Griffin and loves Forest Griffin’s quote, “the juice is worth the squeeze”, which I can only assume to be some sort of a masochistic, masturbatory maneuver. Any UFC aficionados want to take a crack at explaining that one to me?
Anyhoo, Sean saw some guys do it on TV (meaning fight MMA style) and thought he would try it. I just hope he never watches Priscilla Queen of the Desert.
“I have to use really small ping pong balls.
Okay, my money is on the cocky bastard wannabe. Hopefully, he has more training than just watching video games and Ultimate Fighter reruns. The fight starts out with Sean picking up the cocky bastard and dropping him on his head. Then, there are a few of those awkward moments of the questionable groping that were absent in Mini’s title fight:
Sean saw a proctologist do this on ER and thought he’d try it.
Despite a promising beginning, TV boy is quickly overwhelmed:
The moment Sean realized the difference between reality and TV.
…And, the cocky bastard wannabe wins by a rear naked choke, cough, cough…Okay, I know it’s just a name. Any homosexual connotations are strictly in the mind of the audience. But, still, I dare any UFC fighter to go down to the Castro district and threaten to submit the local gentlemen with rear naked chokes.
Ido Pariente versus Efrain Escudera
Ido is from Israel and has a lot of national pride. Please, God, let him represent well. After Zohan, the Israeli image really can’t take much more bashing. Anyway, Ido seems kind of sweet and tells us that he’s really nervous.
I tried out for Shear Genius, but they wouldn’t take me.
On the other hand, Efrain is looking good to take on the role of house A-hole if he wins. And, in this crowd, that’s quite a title to achieve. Efrain loves fighting, but he’d rather do it in a cage than on the streets. Because, Efrain knows that fighting on the streets might get him shot in an ally, or dumped in a canal, or something. He then goes on to describe how he’s going to beat Ido.
If he comes within one inch of my penis, I’m going to choke him out.
The fight is short and Efrain wins pretty much the way the way he predicted, but not before they give us the penile proximity shot of the night.
In the closet case jungle, it’s an unwritten law that if another man gets this close to your penis you must kick his ass.
Ryan Lopez versus Tom Lawler
Ryan Lopez is a real live, badass, bounty hunter by day and a fighter by night. He adds that he used to do some modeling for Men’s Health but there was no money in it and it was pretty boring.
I like shooting people better.
On entering the cage, he points up to the sky and says a brief prayer before taking a few warm up jumps. Frankie is highly amused by the Bounty Hunter’s antics and giggles, points, and shouts, “He just jumped four feet off the floor!!”
Where’s that guy with the Ritalin?
Tom Lawler is a profound thinker who shows an impressive grasp of chain reaction causalities. He tells us that if he doesn’t fight, he doesn’t eat, and if he doesn’t eat, he dies. After a significant pause, he explains that he doesn’t think that’s a good alternative. He also has the worst haircut ever.
I’m sorry, but it looks like a starfish is taking a crap on his head.
It looks like the Thinker is going to live to eat another day. He chokes out the badass bounty hunter in a surprisingly fast amount of time. I’m thinking that this fight can’t be good for the bounty hunting business.
Sadly the next 3 fights are pretty short and lame. Big Daddy dubs fight 5 the battle of the beanpoles and George Roop wins:
The winning beanpole
Ryan Bader chokes out Kyle Kingsbury in fight 6 with a triangle.
And, Shane Nelson goes on to win fight 7.
Eliot Marshall versus Karin Gregorian
Eliot Marshall tells us that he has a long history competing in Brazilian jujitsu.
Karn Gregorian tells us that he has a long history fighting and you kind of get the idea that he means at home, in the streets, in school and in gangs…
In the first round, the two guys go down on the ground pretty fast and roll around a lot. The outcome is unclear, with the exception of one thing:
Neither wants to be a bottom.
The second round starts off with Elliot kicking Karn in the head. Karn starts to look a little nervous when Elliot lands a lot of punches, before going in for a dump (as in dumping Karn on the ground). He then takes a few moments to repeatedly knee Karn in the kidneys. The second round bell rings and, as the fight is undecided, they go to a third round.
This time the fighters go immediately to the ground, and in no time Karn is bleeding all over Elliot’s chest, which is both unhygienic and a little rude. At the end of the third round, the boys hug and go to wait for a decision. Frankie tells Elliot that he’s in the house and I assume he’s the winner. But, no, we have a twist. Big Daddy announces that, by a split decision, the judges have named Karn Gregorian the winner. Judges? What judges? I didn’t even know there were judges, outside of the coaches and Big Daddy for the intro elimination fights. And, for that matter, where the fuck are the judges? These judges must be ugly as sin, because they sure as hell aren’t getting any air time.
“What the hell, give the bloody guy the win.
Big Daddy and Frankie commiserate with Elliot saying that they think he should have won the fight, which has got to be making Karn feel like a very little piece of turd right now. But, oh well, it’s time for Big Daddy to welcome the winning fighters into the training house and to kiss the losers goodbye. Except! Wait for it…It turns out that Antwain Britt, from last week, broke his hand in his fight so he’s going to have to go home and that means there’s room for another fighter in the house. Guess who’s back? Yup, it’s Elliot. Remember, ultimately, Big Daddy always gets his way.
“We can’t second guess the refs or judges, but in this case we can,” because I’m a giant douchebag.
Seriously, Mini was the only guy to act like a gentlemen and support Karn winning the fight and the judges decision. Big Daddy Douchebag actually announced to the entire group of fighters that he didn’t think Karn should have won the fight. If you have a problem with the judges decision, fire them. But, it’s pretty low to undermine Karn’s place in the house in front of the entire group. Yay, Mini! Boooo, Big Daddy Douchebag!
We end with promising shots of the total drunken mayhem that occurs in the house this season. A situation best described by long time commentor Fire@will, who I picture as the love child of Tim Gunn and Obi-wan Kenobi valiantly guarding the Tvgasm universe, “They are put under tremendous pressure, sequestered in a rented house, deprived of TV-books-phones… and supplied with seemingly endless alcohol. What could go wrong?” And, Big Daddy telling us that this isn’t Survivor where the contestants get voted off. Instead:
“Let’s beat em off.” (pause) “That didn’t sound good, did it?”
So what did you guys think? Did the right fighters get into the house? And does anybody know why the UFC website shows a photo of Eric Magee, instead of Jules the farmboy, as one of the winners from last week?