Look, honestly, I am halfway through the 3rd season of the stupid Ultimate Fighter, and I find it highly enjoyable, like watching assholes I work with hang out in a house none of us could afford, and getting to see their real asses unlocked behind the closed doors of no bosses nor women they think they can prod with their manpokes. But the second season of this show was lacking compared to the first, perhaps because there was no alcohol allowed in the house. I mean, isn't no outside media, no women, and no phones or internet enough? Plus, it's reality TV, and when you take away a lot of things, rule number one is you leave alcohol in the equation to keep it funny. If you're making sure people can't sit around just watch TV all night, that's because nothing escalates from sitting around and watching TV all night. But sitting around and drinking all night? Mad shit escalates from that. Mad real shit that's perfect for TV cheapest forms of entertainment.
Anyways, this year was something, heavyweights and another class that's lighter. I could look it up but the internet wire's not inside my laptop, and I'm enjoying the song on the satellite radio, so I don't feel like getting up and messing with nothing...
#1: Jorge Gugel - Really, the single gripe I have about Jorge is how everybody called him George instead of Jorge (you know, Whore Hay). But his broken English and intense small attitude combining into a pint-sized 21st Century Ricky Ricardo expecting every asshole in the house to have some splaining to do, it was great. I really wished he had won it all, though his questionable friendship with his coach Rich Franklin kind of sucked. Hopefully in all future versions of this show, they either completely avoid coach/camp friendships becoming involved, or they just let two coaches who really hate each other only bring their own camp to the show, for complete gang warfare human cockfighting extended reality television hatred.
#2: Luke Cummo - They played dude out as a nerd, but I dug his half-retarded Red Lobster waiter self-taught Zen student kung fu style. In fact, my favorite scene of the entire season was not even a scene but a shot of him in the back yard of the UFC Mansion punching a bag of rice sitting on top of a rock. That's some 36th Chamber bullshit right there. I know he didn't win against the midget guy, but I hope Luke Cummo parlayed this into some nice celebrity yoga sessions with Ricky Williams, Jeff Goldblum, and Lil Wayne's boyfriend.
#3: Melvin Guillard - He did not show well, but being from a small town in the South who now lives in a white ass liberalized gentrified area of the earthball, I have an affinity in my heart for shit-talking ghetto-assed black dudes. They are fun people who may not smoke weed but will take you to their cousin Buzzard's house to buy a dimebag, and you'll get high and the two of you will drink an 8-pack of Miller pony bottles and some other shit-talking ghetto-assed black dude will show up and talk trash at you for being an unrecognized whiteboy in a Canadian hockey sweatshirt bright red that sticks out like that would stick out in a black community underneath an unlighted basketball goal with bullet dents in the metal backboard, and your boy Melvin stands up for you, like, "Hey man, fuck it, he ain't done shit to nobody. Why you trippin'?" And the other guy indeed stops tripping, but he is watching you with half a violence-prone eyeball, and on one hand, you're like, "Whew... I'm glad Melvin was here," but on the other hand, dirtweed and Miller High Life is an intoxicating combo that can make you say to your insides, "Fuck that guy. He lucky Melvin cooled it down. Fuck him." And it stews and stews, but nothing comes of it because you ain't a gangsta, you a stona.
#4: the Eye Doctor Guy - Having a wife who is a trained herbalist who when I have sickness concocts up some sort of mason jar contained tea for me to drink from the seven bins of bags of herbs we have, I have come to appreciate the weird corner of science style the boxing cut man or MMA stitch guy kicks for this world. I sometimes think of how awesome a life it would be to simply know how to mix crushed yarrow and plantain and vaseline for my own special cut-closing mixture to have a weird, high profile, low-paying job of note. But I'm not. However, watching this season of The Ultimate Fighter, where stitching bitches up was a regular occurence, seeing the Asian eye doctor guy (my apologies, his names was Dr. Hsu I think, and I meant to google it up, but like I said, the wire's not plugged in) do his scientific magic, with the whole notion in mind that he has to make it so this cut doesn't bleed again, it was interesting. The last time I got stitches was when me and my wife had our back yard wedding ceremony. We had been married by justice of the peace (who apparently didn't mind our inter-racial engagement) years ago, but held off on a ceremony until we could have everybody around. That was like five years ago on Beltaine, and a devastating mix of homemade tomato wine super destroyed many of us. But while setting up for the party, I sliced the nerve in my left forefinger and I tried to hide it because I knew my wife would be freaked out, and her brother is a doctor of the medicine, but they saw it and he ran off to the hospital to get the shit to numb my finger and stitch me up. We had the ceremony first, with a giant rag around my hand, but then in the kitchen with an Old Milwaukee in my other hand, wearing my wedding rhinestone overalls, he stitched me up at the kitchen table, like nine stitches to hold my finger together. Fucked up thing is the scar today, I can see how I cut like a third of my finger open that day, and it still doens't have perfect feeling, getting all tingly at times like I'm thirteen and in love, but only in my left forefinger, and you can actually see the holes from the stitches. That's because my bro-in-law was learning his craft, and not a specialist, although probably a top notch doctor in his own right. And that whole story is why the Eye Doctor dude impressed me so much, to be an expert in stitching bitches up, but hopefully not snitches, because snitches don't deserve stitches, just concrete britches, and trips is... to the middle of the lake.
#5: Joe Stevenson - The midget lower weight class dude who won, who was not really all that awesome outside of the circular circle, nor all that annoying either. He was just kind of a guy who was there and was really good at mixed martial artistry, but not crazy and wacky as a personality, nor a dickhead like, honestly, I expect from these types.
#6: Rashad Evans - Rashad Evans was slightly enjoyable, with his bobblehead bullshit, but at the same time, this second season was real lowball when it came to enjoyment. I mean, relative to the white ass fuckfaces he was on a TV screen with, Rashad Evans came across as a halfway chill dude. But honestly, you throw him in with a bunch of Tonk-playing dirtbags, and he ain't that cool. Speaking of which, why the hell don't dudes on The Ultimate Fighter play more cards? And not Solitaire either. That's not for-real cards.
#7: Jason Von Flue - The grungy hipster ready-made to be best friends with that Jessie James motorcycle show dude cat that was added to mid-stream after somebody got injured. I felt bad for him slightly because the guy was getting stitches put in his face left and right. And then at the same time, he was an aspiring ultimate fighter with the last name "Von Flue", which is so fucking goofily stereotypical and disreputable it made me think he was probably boys with that Spencer Pratt spider monkey holograph.
#8: Brad Imes - A big, halfwitted, cornfed, midwestern amateur wrestler. This type of person makes me glad I came from the south and not the midwest because it seems out there they have all the retarded delusions and misguided hatred we have, but without the long sense of history, good manners, and brown sugar walls to make it all more enjoyable as you struggle through another shit life branch off the old family tree.
#9: Keith Jardine - He certainly looked cool, like he might own ferrets and some bootleg Faith No More live shows where Les Claypool joined them onstage. But he never really got a chance to shine in the show. So all he is to me is the dude with the goatee.
#10: Mike Whitehead - This dude was a chump, and became the right hand chump to head chump Matt Harris, which made me not like him anymore. Luckily, he got beat pretty handily when he actually had a fight, and by a negro to boot.
#11: Rich Franklin - A rather vanilla dude who came across as a halfway decent coach probably only because Matt Harris was such a cocksucker. And honestly, the "college graduate, and a really smart guy, but he likes to compete in MMA" angle is already played the fuck out, and I'm only up to season two. Stop trying to make it seem like hand-to-hand combat chess and just let people beat the fuck out of each other already. I mean, that's what Griffin vs. Bonnar was from the first season, and that was the best shit ever.
#12: Marcus Davis - This is the John Cena Boston Celtics fan dude who is like 39 motherfuckers we've all met in bus stations who is running cocaine for his cousin inside of a stereo speaker. But don't tell nobody, yo.
#13: Sammy Morgan - Honestly, it's been a few weeks since I held my wrap party on watching this show, and I can't even remember who Sammy Morgan was. Maybe he was the slightly chubby olive-complected dipshit who avoided all fights and made it to the semi-finals, but I can't be for sure.
#14: Matt Hughes - You know, it's often pretended that a guy like Matt Hughes, who is a complete dick to anyone who does not think the exact same way he does about whatever form of competition he has involved himself in, is not an asshole but just a really intense person who wants nothing more than for the entire world to be as hardcore and serious about what it is he is hardcore and serious about. Except that doesn't make sense, because the dude is such a dick. It is not impossible in this world to be hardcore and serious about something, and make yourself be intensely involved, without being a fucking cocksucking little short Type-A asshole to everyone around you. I would think Matt Hughes' issues have more to do with penis size than intensity, although a lack of penis size is certainly a most intense thing.
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