The sport of ass kicking
Gimme blood, gimme guts: This lady loves MMA and cannot wait for Houston'sStrikeforce
I hate blood. In fact, most bodily secretions flip my stomach. And I certainly don't want to see liquids oozing out of body parts that don't originally have holes.
I also hate violence. Before you cheekily ask, "Who likes violence?" let me assure you, there are some that thrive on the aggressive release that brutal physical conflict entails.
Not me. I prefer my plasma to remain in its veiny, tubular corridors beneath my skin, and I make love, not war.
But hello Dolly, do I ever relish the visible anguish of an agonizing armbar.
Call me sick in the head, but I can't wait for mixed martial arts little giant Strikeforce to rain blood on Houston this Saturday night at the Toyota Center.
Revoke my lady card. Swap out my lace for lager. Let's get ready to rumble MMA-style.
You're probably scratching your head in bewilderment and asking, "Why on earth ...?" Or you're judging me. Likely the latter.
I can't quite put a finger on it myself.
Perhaps my inner heathen grits its teeth and sadistically grins a deranged smile when I hear a jaw pop. Perhaps my hidden hillbilly (as Americans, we've all got one) wants to guzzle beer while the nearly brain-dead menfolk grunt and wrassle in tight shorts. Perhaps I want to see how much of a battering the human body can take while I jeer and gasp on cue.
It's raw and barbaric, and I'm completely fascinated by it.
Where else can a man can beat another to a gory pulp and make an honest living out of the "sport" of ass kicking? God bless America.
Trust me: It's not prissy, it's not girly, and it's completely classless. And if I were you, I wouldn't miss seeing it live for the world.