JIMBORED IS PISSED, WHAT AN EM”BARE ASS” MENT – NOV. 2024

I am not sure that any of my readers have noticed, but for the past couple of years, Ol’ JimboRed has refrained from going on a real rant. I’m talking about a good ol’ fashioned screaming, spitting, cursing, meltdown. The reason I have not had one, is largely due to Bubbaloo telling me to be more positive in my outlook towards life and others in it. Lord knows there have been times during this period, where I have had to lock myself in my little room and just silently beat my head on the floor. All the while having a major “shit fit”. Well those calm times are now over! It’s 4:00 o’clock in the morning and after laying awake for a couple of hours, I am in front of my typewriter and ready to spew some rage! Anyone care to know why?

Yeah? Well let me tell you. Yesterday, in the evening, I’m sitting, twisted up, in my chair and watching “light” violence on the TV. I’m not bothering anyone, Bubbaloo is kinda sharing her time between her “google eye” and the TV. All is at peace in the world. Then Ange sends me a text. “Dad”, she says, “did you know there is going to be some kind of crazy fight on TV tonight?” It then hits me. A fight between Mike Tyson and Rand Paul, just kidding, it was really, some clown named Jake Paul. There is a 31 year age gap, between them. It’s approaching 8:00pm, and very close to my bedtime. I toss it around, “should I, shouldn’t I”, that sort of thing. Then of course, JimboRed comes up with another of his fatally flawed decisions, in a life full of bad choices. “Hell why not?”

I must say, it had been years since I watched a boxing match. Basically, ever since I had my first encounter with the world of Mixed Martial Arts. Since that time, two people dancing around 8 feet apart from each other waving pillows around, had little appeal to me. Anyway, why whine about it now, IT’S TOO LATE TO UNSEE WHAT I JUST SAW! So, I twist myself into a new position and get ready to watch. Ange and Cdy are in. By now, D2 has joined in from his TV. I also heard that Ron and JMW had tuned in. Bubbaloo gathers up her rubble, and in a whirlwind, disappears around the corner, towards her bedroom. I’m sure she had visions of some kind of “Disney” movie she could “better waste her time on”!

Anyway, it’s still a little early for the spectacle, so I decide to watch the co-main event of the evening. That being, a title fight, of some sorts, between an Irish and a Puerto Rican lady. What kills me about this, is that the Irish boxer jumps into the ring accompanied by 5 championship belts! “Who the hell it this”, I think? “I have never heard of her!” Just this little thing makes my stomach knot up, and a sense of foreboding crawls over me like a shroud. My god the belts weigh so much, that she had to have a helper carry them or she couldn’t have got over the ropes into the ring. These ladies, both around 135 pounds, dripping wet, appear to be in good shape and ready to fight. After 15 minutes of jumping around and their virtues extolled, by the ring announcer, they are ready.

They jump to the centre of the ring, and almost immediately the champ runs across the ring and delivers a vicious head butt to her Puerto Rican opponent. That doesn’t appear to have caused much concern, as the challenger shakes it off and they continue. They stood there trading punches, with the Irish lady, interspersing her punches with head butts. The pillows were flying and these ladies were giving each other, a vicious smacking. Just at the height of their fury, the bell rings and the round ends. “What the hell”, I think? “Seems like it has just started!” I now realize that the rounds have been shortened to two minutes. “Interesting” I thought, but did not yet realize the significance of the issue.

In any event, round two starts and these ladies continue to pound away at each other. The Puerto Rican, bobbing and weaving and from my point of view, handing out a good ass kicking to the “champion”. The champion, in her own right, is staying competitive by countering with punches, interspersed with blatant head butts. I remember when I used to watch boxing, hitting your opponent with your head was illegal. It seems now, the rules have changed and attacking with your thick skull is now acceptable. At least, no one seems to be too concerned about it. By now, of course, the challenger has a big, gaping, oozing, cut, on the side of her eye, in the most tender spot.

Even with this deep ugly bleeding opening around her eye, this lady is still handing out quite an ass kicking. She constantly is pushing the other’s head away from the damaged area and from other fresh targets of the champion’s head. The fight goes on. It’s basically, whap, whap, returned by butt, butt. And on it goes. The one lady bleeding profusely and the other charging her like a horny “ram” in horn-butting season. Finally, after a few rounds of the crowd booing and yelling about the dirty tactics, the referee steps in and warns the champ about the use of her head. A little too late, the other ladies’ eyelid is now laying open across her eye.

I must say that each of these fighters gave all they had. They coiled up and hit each other with punches that started at the floor. The problem that I see, is that wearing those huge gloves, they could not generate enough power to do any real damage to each other. Hence, I guess, the need for the head butt. The challenger survives the ten rounds, and by all accounts is the undisputed winner. Everyone interviewed or talked too during the post fight media melee, has no doubt that the challenger will now be gathering up a car load of belts to take home with her. The announcement came and there is silence as the champion, who had just had her ass kicked, was declared the winner!

There was no one more surprised than her. She starts jumping up and down in disbelief and the crowd now joins in voicing their displeasure. The post fight interviews with the fighters are very restrained and polite, until The Puerto Rican girl’s manager gets hold of the microphone and completely “loses it”. He has a complete meltdown about the head butting, the refereeing and the judging. Ol’ JimboRed is 100% in step with this guy. He said some things that just needed to be said. I’m thinking “were these judges watching a different fight than me, and the others interviewed immediately after the fight?” I’m now not in a real good mood, I’m tired, my bedtime has passed, I’m pissed and I still haven’t seen anything of the two headliners.

Finally the main event is announced. My brain is saying, “go to bed you old fool!” My curiosity is saying, ” come on big guy, just watch a little bit”. Geezus, had I just listened to my brain! One of the first things to happen is a dressing room interview with Mike Tyson. “Hold it”, I think, “who is this old, short, fat guy they are talking too?” I then realize that this is the former Iron Mike Tyson. He now looks like a, two day old, quarter pounder with cheese. Mike has a slightly confused look on his face and doesn’t appear to be moving that well. He describes what he is about to do to this guy, Jake Paul. He was not very convincing. Almost like he didn’t believe it himself. Geezus I play golf with a couple of old guys that look more healthy than Iron Mike.

Interview done and in a very un-Mike Tyson like moment he kisses the interviewer and tells him he loves him. He then turns, and with his BARE ASS hanging out of his leather cutout breeches, he waddles away. Was he wearing a souvenir from his time in Prison? My God, where’s a fork, I just want to dig my eyes out! I can’t remember anything that has, ever, traumatized me as much in my entire life as seeing Mike Tyson’s ass on live TV framed by a black leather butt cutout. It is a vision, that, I will try not to think about! But, this vision of a 58 year old ass, displaying the ravages of cellulite, will never leave my mind. Why wouldn’t whoever was doing the interview, ask him to maybe put on a pair of shorts or a robe prior to speaking to millions on live TV?

By this time, it is well past my bedtime. Next each fighter must enter the ring with their entourage of sycophants and hanger’s on. Jake Paul is in a car with some weird guy sitting beside him spraying a mist around his head from an aerosol can. Mike’s group then comes out and amongst them, he looks the least qualified to fight “anybody”. He’s kind of like a shuffling, confused old man being lead out to the slaughter. I can’t remember the moment of his ring entrance but I expect he just laid down, and rolled in under the bottom rope. Well both fighters jumped and bobbed around the ring for 15 minutes while some unknown read off their amazing accomplishments. The crowd of 75,000 were going wild.

Ol’ JimboRed is feeling sick to his stomach. Having watched this “opening” spectacle, I could now only hope that they would run across the ring, clash heads and knock each other out. However they didn’t. Eventually the dance starts, each man sporting king size bed pillows strapped to each hand. They get about 8 feet apart and direct mean looks to each other, all the while threatening to strike each other with their pillows. At this point, Iron Mike looks like the most unlikely person, in that audience, to strike anyone. Mike Tyson has the movement of an old tree. Jake Paul, however, cannot seem to be able to hit this unmovable object, and missed on 75% of his attempted punches for the rest of the fight.

Along about the start of the second or third round, Bubbaloo returned to see what everyone was watching. I’m already, not in a good mood, and soon she is crapping on “my attitude”. Now I can’t even bitch and grumble to myself, about this fiasco taking place in front of my eyes. It is now too late to go to bed, I am just going to have to see this through. I can’t explain much of what has taken place, because I can not, really, find any positive way to say it, without offending her. Completely chastened and now silent, I return to the TV.

Now the significance of the 2 minute rounds, clicks into my mind. I realize that poor ol’ Iron Mike probably cannot stay upright for more than two minutes at a time. He looked to struggle, even being able to lift his arms over his head to let Jake Paul beat on them. I believe somewhere in the first round Tyson got close enough to land 2 or 3 glancing blows on Jake Paul. You are going to say “bullshit”, but I’m here to tell you, that in all 8 rounds, Mike Tyson, the former world champion, LANDED JUST 18 PUNCHES ALL FIGHT! A little more than two punches each round! You gotta be kidding, right? Nope, dead truth. The rest of the time Mike covered his head and stood like a stump in the middle of the ring.

Jake Paul on the other hand probably tripled Iron Mike’s punch output. He would wade in, tap Mike a couple of times on the gloves, the jump back to weave or bob, all the while posing for the cameras. And so it went. Mike would wave his arms around, and sway from the hips. Jake would tap him a couple of times and then withdraw. Soon enough the torture ended. Everyone gathered in the centre of the ring wondering if Iron Mike’s 18 punches were enough to pull out victory. Obviously, I’m joking, right? I guess I could easily say that not one person in this world, who had the misfortune to watch this, even thought there was any possibility of a Tyson win. By now I am pissed!

Well they convene in the centre of the ring, hundreds of sycophants and unknowns milling around, trying to get in front of the camera. The weird guy is still in the background, still spraying some kind of mist around Jake Paul’s head. Jake and Mike now proceed to have a love-in, in the middle of the ring. It is getting so tender, that I am afraid they may get into a long, enduring, embrace! I cannot stand it any longer. With a curse, I slam down my remote and turn off the torture. I am feeling a loss of control sweeping over me. Bubbaloo is now really crapping on my attitude. I head for my bed. “Please”, I’m begging my mind, “please let me UN-SEE this”. To no avail! It is firmly lodged in my psyche for all eternity.

I lay down but cannot sleep. I cannot remove the vision of Mike Tyson’s bare ass from my memory. Soon, I come to the realization that myself, 75,000 fans in attendance and millions on Netflix, have just been handed the biggest scam in all of history! I am truly EM-BARE-ASSED, at myself. How much dumber could I get? Then too top it all off, I glance at my google eye, and there is a headline from Jake Paul, saying that he didn’t hit him too hard, because he just didn’t want to hurt ol’ Mike. Geezus, then why pay him $20million, to have him in the ring. Isn’t $20million enough for a little hurt and suffering. What, after all, is the point of fighting?

I must say Jake Paul must be very proud of himself, after all, he beat up on a defenceless senior citizen, and duped the world into paying him for it. Now, what was left of my remaining sleeping hours is now gone. Here I must end this rant. I just want to pluck my eyes out and rinse my brain in Draino. Goodnight all! One last thing; if that was Jake Paul at his best, then he better not step in the ring with either of those 135 pound ladies from the co-main event. Either one of them would tear him apart!