Ultimate Gratification
For years I have felt an emptiness in my life that couldn't be explained until recently. During that time, people have been experiencing new ways of living vicariously through their television, and I've lived with a bitter lack of satisfaction the entire time. It seemed like everyone had a show that portrayed the desires they would be fulfilling if they weren't horribly unmotivated and also not watching that show.
Everyone except me.
Until now, that is. For the day has finally come that I can enjoy a reality TV show made just for me.
When I casually flipped to the first episode, I was immediately assaulted by images of greasy men pummeling each other into bloody piles of quivering meat, and the theme song immediately blew my mind by informing me that I would:
"...bear witness to the fitness of the modern warrior!"
Sure those lyrics undeniably fuck you up, but all I heard was "Yo, Z. This is Jesus talking to you through your TV again. Enjoy this show I made just for you, baby. Peace out."
Now think for a second about your favorite reality show. What is the one missing element that you so desperately want to see? Come on, think. When those spoiled brats start nagging and whining and yelling at each other, your only thought is that someone should knock them the fuck out. You know you've thought that at least once, you twisted asshole. Well, that's what's great about The Ultimate Fighter. With the exception of the first episode, participants are eliminated from the show by way of combat. Hate one of the cast members? Can't stand their shit? Don't worry. There's a 100% chance that someone will get to punch them.
So what could anyone possibly do to improve on a house full of professional fighters who haven't seen a woman in weeks? Give them booze. These guys get totally wrecked every single episode, and last week featured a bender to end them all. Show me one episode of The Real World were someone gets drunk and renders an entire door into splinters with nothing but their fists. That's right, you can't.
So after you inevitably check out the show's web site, check out the new web site I occasionally write for. It's called The Shaved Report. There's a lot of talented writers on there, but if you're only going to read it because you're stalking me, you can just choose to browse by author and read my stuff. If you can't figure out which one is me from the given list of names, then you've got problems that may require help from a team of animal handlers.
For years I have felt an emptiness in my life that couldn't be explained until recently. During that time, people have been experiencing new ways of living vicariously through their television, and I've lived with a bitter lack of satisfaction the entire time. It seemed like everyone had a show that portrayed the desires they would be fulfilling if they weren't horribly unmotivated and also not watching that show.
Everyone except me.
Until now, that is. For the day has finally come that I can enjoy a reality TV show made just for me.
When I casually flipped to the first episode, I was immediately assaulted by images of greasy men pummeling each other into bloody piles of quivering meat, and the theme song immediately blew my mind by informing me that I would:
"...bear witness to the fitness of the modern warrior!"
Sure those lyrics undeniably fuck you up, but all I heard was "Yo, Z. This is Jesus talking to you through your TV again. Enjoy this show I made just for you, baby. Peace out."
Now think for a second about your favorite reality show. What is the one missing element that you so desperately want to see? Come on, think. When those spoiled brats start nagging and whining and yelling at each other, your only thought is that someone should knock them the fuck out. You know you've thought that at least once, you twisted asshole. Well, that's what's great about The Ultimate Fighter. With the exception of the first episode, participants are eliminated from the show by way of combat. Hate one of the cast members? Can't stand their shit? Don't worry. There's a 100% chance that someone will get to punch them.
So what could anyone possibly do to improve on a house full of professional fighters who haven't seen a woman in weeks? Give them booze. These guys get totally wrecked every single episode, and last week featured a bender to end them all. Show me one episode of The Real World were someone gets drunk and renders an entire door into splinters with nothing but their fists. That's right, you can't.
So after you inevitably check out the show's web site, check out the new web site I occasionally write for. It's called The Shaved Report. There's a lot of talented writers on there, but if you're only going to read it because you're stalking me, you can just choose to browse by author and read my stuff. If you can't figure out which one is me from the given list of names, then you've got problems that may require help from a team of animal handlers.
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Ong Bak forever!
What a train wreck.
But funny.