Men in tights.

I love the UFC. Love it. Boxing on the other hand, I dislike rather strongly. I'm not exactly sure why this is, but I have a sneaking suspicion that has something to do with hotness that that most of the young men who participate in the sport simply exude. I love everything about UFC. I love the pre-fight hype, the TV specials the night before detailing the histories of the various gents on the card the following evening. I love how everyone asks everyone what they're doing for the fight. I love my trip to the LCBO on saturday afternoon to get my fight-night beverages and I love when those lovely, angry, and often tattooed specimens of testosterone manifest leap out of their respective corners and try to dismember one another before the bald guy rings the bell. 

Vomit inducing isn't it?

I can even look past the ear deformation that a lifetime of being dummied eventually causes.... ah yes, the cauliflower. I can turn a blind eye to the nasty ear... while my good eyes darts back and forth between the biceps, the pectorals, the glutes, the abs and the extensive network of muscles that make up the jaw-dropping, drool-summoning back of the well trained UFC fighter. 

But see what I mean about the various muscles groups? AWESOME...totally makes up for the gross ears, in most cases.

yum.



p.s. FUCK YOU KOSCHEK