Okay, so North America has rednecks and Europe has Eurotrash. But what do British people call the winners featured above? Sure, ‘wankers’ is a pretty simple and effective term but I find it too general. There must be special regional terminology in existance for these guys.

Props to jackal MRC54 for the link!

It’s time for a new riddle, boys and girls. This week, we have a tough one, so go put on your thinking caps! Here goes:

I’m a 6’2 meat blanket that gets hyped up so much, you’d think i was the second coming of Christ. Who am I?

If you said “I’m Brock Lesnar”, then you are correct. Now that probably wasn’t very tough considering the answer was in the title of the post, but whatever! The question was rhetorical: If you were somehow impressed by Brock’s fight with Heath Herring, then congratulations: you’ve been officially brainwashed by the UFC. Oh, and the years of WWE hype as well – shame on you for even paying attention to that garbage.

Okay, I don’t want to be too unfair. I’ll be the first to admit that Heath looked like a bitch when he fought. He got rocked, and the rest of the time he was lying on the ground getting punched. But apart from that first blow where he went flying across the cage, at no other time did it look like the thing was going anywhere else other than a decision.

The fight itself didn’t bother me too much. What did, however, was the insistence from Goldberg and Rogan to talk up Lesnar during the whole fight. There was so much dick stroking going on, I thought I was watching gay porno. I realize of course that Lesnar is the golden boy of a disappointingly “light” heavyweight division. But listening to 15 fucking minutes of this ball tickling drove me insane.

There’s a natural amount of hype that goes into every fight, and Goldy and Rogan are paid to stoke the fire, no question about it. But to hear them talk incessantly about Lesnar, who is still very much untested, reeks of a profound hypocrisy, especially considering what the UFC has continually said regarding another hype machine: Kimbo Slice. If Lesnar – with his much discussed giant fists and tremendous power – can’t knock a motherfucker out, and instead spends 90% of the fight straddling dudes greco-roman stylez, then i’m a long ways away from jumping on his bandwagon, no matter how much you talk him up.

Jake Rossen has an article up on the Roy Nelson situation. What’s that? Well, Roy ‘Fat Fuck’ Nelson was told by the UFC to call back when he lost his massive gut. Instead, he went and signed up with Affliction. This caused something of a sensation around the internets, with many people attacking the UFC for ‘discriminating’ based on body type.

This would be all well and good if Roy Nelson looking like a blimp was a ‘body type’ issue. Josh Barnett’s titties and love handles – that’s a body type issue. Tim Boetsch’s gut. Fedor’s perennial pear shape. Tim Sylvia’s … well, why he’s ugly. All these things are body type issues.

Roy Nelson on the other hand is just a tubby bitch. It ain’ty muscle under that belly. It quivers and rolls like an Atlantic storm during fights, which is both hypnotizing and vomit-inducing at the same time. If he spent more time at the gym and less time drinking out of deep fryers, he could easily burn it off. But I’m sure he keeps it on purpose, probably because he attributes it as the reason he’s able to knock people out.

And there’s the rub right there: the UFC doesn’t want big fat guys who are essentially using their gigantic guts as counterweight for their punches. In this case I personally think that beggars can’t be choosers, but I’m not going to deny them the right to draw the line somewhere. And besides, despite Roy’s claims to the contrary I don’t think he’ll be quite the force everyone thinks once he starts mixing it up with the real big boys at heavyweight.

Not content with the challenges of returning to the fighting world and keeping off the booze, Evan Tanner is now prepping for an “Into the Wild” style adventure in the California desert:

I’ve been gathering my gear for this adventure for over a month, not a long time by most standards, but far too long for my impatient nature. Being a minimalist by nature, wanting to carry only the essentials, and being extremely particular, it has been a little difficult to find just the right equipment. I plan on going so deep into the desert, that any failure of my equipment, could cost me my life. I’ve been doing a great deal of research and study. I want to know all I can about where I’m going, and I want to make sure I have the best equipment.

For those of you who have kept up on Evan’s adventures here at Fightlinker, you’ll know that this isn’t the first or worst of his crazy ideas. I’d estimate that about 40% of our coverage of Evan ends with “and I hope he doesn’t die doing this”. From drowning off the coast of California to flipping his jeep off the side of a mountain to becoming a smear on the highway outside Vegas, Evan has proven that he’s quite adept at avoiding death. On the other hand, there ain’t shit out in the desert and if he gets stuck out there with a dead bike and no service on his cell…

I hope he doesn’t die doing this.

Hey guys! So I’m back from vacation … just woke up after spending all day and night yesterday doing 20 hours from Tennessee to Montreal. Now I’m just settling back in and trying to find a place in the house to work that isn’t covered in beer bottles and garbage – oh how I missed my own place. Thanks for putting up with the infrequent posts over the past few days. The time away let me step back and take a good look at the MMA blogosphere, what sucks about it, and what Fightlinker needs to be even better.

Expect a lot of cool shit over the next month that I think will blow your fuzzy pink toe socks right the fuck off!

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