My Mother and brother have a Sunday afternoon TV rivalry, my brother a Pittsburg Squealers fan and my mother a Baltimore Cravens fan.
When the King of Amurica twatted that the NFL should fire thug players who refused to honor their country's national anthem by standing, when the Cravens met the Squealers in Smogdon, the players on the Baltimore team knelt and did the black power fist, while the Squealers stayed in the locker room, except for one player, a veteran, who came out and stood.
I hate football for the gang rape game it is [most football players since the 1970s have participated in or condoned high school and college gang rapes] and since I was beating the shit out of high school varsity players when I was a middle school boxer, I hate the sport, though I love my uncle who played it when men played it. I am glad that the national military complex and celebrity football leviathans are separating along these lines. There is no good to be had by two evils being cozy with one another.
Just last week I interviewed a man who was once a high school varsity line backer, who broke up a gang rape by his fellow players. In that one instance three of four football players decided on raping a small girl and then, cowered before the single man who opposed them—cowards and scum!
Professional football players are either gang rapists or men who looked the other way as their fellows raped women, an army of rich ϲunts who have no character for true combat and I curse their sport, am glad it is bursting at the criminal seems and shall accept any challenge to man-to-man combat leveled by any NFL player or lesser football player for my condemnation of them as an army of criminal ϲunts and millionaire, celebrity cowards and their adolescent acolytes. [1]
That said, the National Felony League is leading the way to the social dissolution of the most evil nation ever to straddle the prostrate soul of Mankind, and I am glad that they—in their decadent-faux manhood—point the simpering way to Uncle Sam's well-deserved grave.
Yes, life, such as it is, does not disappoint!
Note
1. Though I am a decrepit amateur fighter, now reduced to coaching, small and overweight, I expect to win any combat that pits me against any NFL pro, as I will field any such challenge according to the Code Duello, and choose sharp machetes as the instrument for resolving our differences. I will win. The type of machete used will courteously be left to the challenger and his second and shall not effect the inevitable outcome.
The Great Train Wreck of the West
link › jameslafond.blogspot.com
Masculine Axis: A Meditation on Manhood and Heroism
I believe you're talking about Alejandro Villanueva. Just to set the record straight, he does not "claim the title" of United States Marine. Mr. Villanueva was a West Point grad, and an officer in the Army's Airborne Rangers. During his three combat tours in Afghanistan, he received the Bronze Star with "V" for rescuing a wounded soldier under fire.
He was probably a fairly large target for the Taliban riflemen, since he stands 6 foot 9 and is "no wider than a beer truck".
Thanks for correcting that, Shep.
I'll fix it in the text.
No duello code. That's like rules of engagement which limit's the warriors that follows the rules of engagement but gives an advantage to the warrior that don't follow the rules of engagement . I want to have it man to man with no witnesses with me but will allow you one to record the demise of the great LAFOND.
Okay, no rules, but I don't fight without weapons anymore, so you should come armed.
I'm not hard to find.
Just track me using the blog and attack at your convenience.
Take care,
james
Sorry about your family and health problems ! My Warrior code prevents me from attacking while so much turmoil is going on with your life. Good luck and may you die with honor my friend.