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I Think He’s a Good Man. I Like Him. I’ve Got Nothing Against Him, But I’m Definitely Gonna Make Orphans of His Children

I Think He’s a Good Man. I Like Him. I’ve Got Nothing Against Him, But I’m Definitely Gonna Make Orphans of His Children

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The latest fight reminds me of one of Pacquiao’s fights from a few years ago. Even though he’s way past his prime, the man can still kick an ass like nobody’s business. I would rather get my faced ripped off by a rabid racoon than fight Manny Pacquiao. He’s not the scariest looking guy, but in a heartbeat he can rearrange your face to look like one of Picasso’s drunken nightmares. He’s a beast. His beastliness wasn’t really reflected in last night’s fight, but that doesn’t make Pacquiao any less terrifying.

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Justice? We’re Playing Way Past Justice

Justice? We’re Playing Way Past Justice


You have entered the world just past Justice. It’s two doors down from Justice. It’s on the left, past Justice, the storage room, the freight elevator, and the Men’s Room you let subcontractors use. You know, the one that never gets cleaned and no woman will ever go in.

On the Justice map, you’ve crossed the Prime Meridian. You’ve gone around the Horn of Justice. You’ve crossed the International Date Line of Justice.

Justice called, and left a message. She said she wasn’t coming over today, and to start without her. She’s busy. Try her again tomorrow.

There’s no one left in the Justice Office. They’ve all gone home for the day. Stop calling. If you go out behind the dumpster at the Justice Office Building, there’s a small door. That’s where you should go. That’s where Comeuppance keeps his office. You’re dealing with him now. He has friends all over. Even bus drivers. 

You Spin Me Right Round, Baby, Right Round

You Spin Me Right Round, Baby, Right Round

(Warning: some salty language and lots of gratuitous violence)

Spinning around like an idiot until you accidentally hit someone is my favorite style of fighting. Next to back-alley hobo brawls, I can’t think of anything I’d be more likely to participate in or watch. I don’t really go for fighting in your underwear, that just seems a bit childish. What I would really like to see is businessmen MMA fighting. Two executives delivering astounding flying-heel kicks in their tassel oxfords seems much more interesting than two bald, sweaty, naked guys rolling all over each other. I’m all for gratuitous violence, but at least have a sense of style.

How To Shatter Your Hip Like A Boss

How To Shatter Your Hip Like A Boss

The dude can take a hit, I’ll give him that much. I can’t quite tell if he’s talking like that because he’s being sarcastic, or his lungs have collapsed. There’s probably a cootie-ridden girl somewhere off screen he’s trying to impress, but he can’t fool me. That hurt. That hurt like watching your grandma try to use a computer.

He hit the ground hard enough to shatter the pelvis of any normal man. He’s a teenager, so he can get away with that sort of thing, but he shouldn’t push his luck. In another five years he might as well be a geriatric. If he pulls another move like that his spine will vacate his body and find a nice adoptive family who’ll treat it better. Until then he’ll make the best of his teenage tard-strength, by hurling himself off of things and looking sullen. God help us all if he forms a band and starts writing songs about his feelings.

Kids these days.