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Slap-Boxing With Jesus

Who Else Saw The Kimbo Slice Fight?

Outside of random-ass YouTube videos I had seen way the fuck back in college (go Toros!), I’d never really seen anything substantially intriguing about this backyard... errr... street fighter named Kimbo Slice. See, I’ve never really found the display of the Black man at their most primal all that interesting since Mike Tyson was the toughest video game boss ever. To this day I’ve still never beaten him; one-hitter quitters drove me insane when I was a child.

Anyways, needless to say I wasn’t particularly adrenalized when his “skills” would be put on display for the world to see for free on television. On top of my apathy I’d also gotten into a pretty huge argument with a good friend, so I wasn’t riveted to watch a multi-hour spectacle (on CBS of all channels) as is. But since I ended up spending my Saturday night at the studio mansion anyways, I watched the fight.

And as I expected, it turned out to be a load of shit.

Well, not entirely. Although there was roughly thirty seconds of actual fighting in the first ninety minutes of the show, as well as some semi-decent shots of especially skanktastic women “dancing” around in pum-pums, the best fight was yet to come, as two women – whose names I can’t remember right now – scrapped it out in the what was easily the highlight of the show. Unfortunately it didn’t go the distance, as by the end of the middle round the referee had thrown in the towel for one of the chicks whose eye had gotten beaten in so much it made the shiner Iron Mike gave Mitch Green back in the day look like a bee sting.

After that, there was another fight was shaping up to be another one that I actually thought that would turn out to be a great match as well, until one of the fighters ended up getting poked in his eye Ric Flair-style, abruptly ending the match. “What a load of shit,” I thought, so I ended up checking my email for the brazillionth time, finding out that my high school class is having a ten-year reunion in a few weeks. Time flies when you’re having fun talking shit on the Internets.

Finally, the much-ballyhooed Kimbo fight hit the screen, and it ended up being a bigger mess than the botched rappelling incident that ethered the ever loving shits out of Owen Hart live on pay-per-view way the fuck back in 1999. Disgustingly freakish cauliflower ear aside, the heavyweight-sized Kimbo clearly isn’t ready for even the likes of middleweighter Anderson “The Spider” Silva, as though he’s loaded with powerful punches and a steel chin, his stamina and – more importantly – his mat skills leave a lot to be desired.

Oh, and over the weekend Internets Ninja DJ Chuck T supposedly leaked Lil Wayne’s overhyped but essentially underwhelming Tha Carter III album. I spent a good amount of time listening to it – because when my cousin dropped me off back home he had it playing in the car so that we could all clown the shit out of it – before deciding that dedicating a shitload of energy to it unless I was getting paid to review it was useless.

See, while the hip-hop world – stans, dwyckriders, fans, haters and all – were up in arms about arguably the most anticipated rap album since Kanye West’s last album, I can’t and won’t simply because I could give three-fifths of a shit about the thing in the first place. I’ve spat out my fair share of ignorant diatribes, and I can honestly say that his kind doesn’t appeal to me anymore. So, I’d rather do other useless things – like watching shirtless men beat each other’s ass on this train – than talk about, in my opinion, a horrible album from an artist who’s too slurred out of his skull to quite possibly ever reach his full potential.

*Anticipates “no pussy getting hater” comments in the c-section in 5, 4, 3, 2...*

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