Saturday, August 13, 2016

Conor McGregor, John Cena

   Sometimes you can just see blood flowing in the future. The future just comes before your eyes like a hi def projection on a really expensive screen and you can see blood, bone, pain, and even the identity of the blood and bone and pain donor, and recipient, donating blood and bone, receiving pain.
    I see Conor  McGregor in this particular tableau I am seeing, I can see his blood, his bone and i can hear his reaction to his pain, Which is screaming.
     Sometimes you can  just see a fool asking for it.
    For some reason some wizened little bantam weight who does real actual brawling, apparently, has decided to start calling names to John Cena, a very large man who does make believe fighting involving a lot of acrobatics and stunt work and rehearsal. Just because a man does fake fighting for a living doesn't mean he can't do real fighting for fun. Or when provoked.
    Large men are often goaded into slaughtering some little loudmouth who goads them into losing their temper and beating the crap out of them. The more sensible men of this ilk pay a dominatrix to fuck them up on a controlled environment. the stupider ones have some behemouth with a short fuse perform this service.
    If Conor McGregor would call some woman trained in not only inflicting pain and humiliation upon a man but granting him semen release at the same time, he would go home in a lot better shape than he will be going home in after a run in with either John Cena or some thug Vince MacMahon hires to split McGregor's head open.
    None of this even includes the millions of bruiser fans that John Cena has in the wrestling world. One of them can just as easily get the job done.
    Here's the deal: not everyone fights fair. Ambush and bushwhack are in the language for a reason. And if you piss off a million hardheads all at once, you are being really stupid. And you cause me to have visions.


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