Boxing and Who the Fuck Knows

So this weekend my main man Mike Tyson is fighting on showtime. how come i feel like both of these concepts should have stayed in the 90s. hbo is the new showtime. experts predict an easy fight for tyson to make his way back into the boxing scene at the ripe age of 39. as long as they dont give him a microphone to spit his ridiculous shit i think well be ok. "imma gut him like a fish" was the latest outburst, although theres probably webpages dedicated to ridiculous mike tyson phrases. yup, that was easy.

the only reason i bring up big mike is because last night i saw the dank flick, Cinderella Man. despite the fact that renee zellweger makes quagmire go flaccid, she did a pretty good job convincing the audience that she was fucking poor as shit. russell crowe with a boston accent was a stretch, but the surround sound punching, asskicking, and general body blows were worth it. also apparently there was a jewish boxer champ back in the day max baer. never heard of him but i'm a huge fucking fan. it was just a great flick and i would recommend it in this time of rain.

since i am not blogging today until 4 pm due to the fact that work sucks, i am probably the last one to talk about the music capital of the world this weekend. music midtown, vibefest, and a not too far off bonnaroo. i shall be attending the weakest mm known to man. all the dank bands are in a far off tennessee (not that far) where range rovers and shrooming fills the air. i just cant hack it anymore.

i just had this weird feeling of deja vu. i mean after a year of a blog the events kind of repeat and i just played fucking repeater for 3 paragraphs. fuck me. its 4:20 and i am fucking leaving.