(It was on this night that Dana realized: No matter how many f-bombs you can get away with in public, one n-bomb will still get you shot.)
As difficult as it is to be a poster-designer for the UFC these days, it seems that it is even more trying to be a fan of the promotion in general, especially one who actually purchases tickets and pay-per-views (chumps). Main events, co-main events, and entire cards are being switcherooed, discombobulated, kerfluffled, skip-skopped, skallywagged, and outright cancelled seemingly willy-nilly, and the constant change of pace is clearly taking its toll on UFC fans around the world.
Realizing the mounting frustration that has taken over our already acrimonious audience, we’ve tried to coax you away from this harsh, unforgiving world of news and enchant you with fancy knockouts, hot chicks, and pot-shots at Jose Canseco to make it all better. Basically, we’ve rubbed some ‘tussin on your open, festering wounds, but as Sam Peebles will tell you, no amount of Bull’s Eye Red Licorice will make up for the fact that you were raped in the library bushes as a child.
…
I forgot where I was going with that analogy, but here’s a supercut of Dana White’s best f-bombs to help get you through this topsy-turvy day in MMA.
I don’t know about you fucking people, but I feel a lot fucking better.