Ronda Rousey Knows… Keep Calm And Break Arms


The most badass, badass walking right now.  I can’t believe what I witnessed this evening.  I regularly crack on chicks and chick sports, but not Rowdy Ronda Rousey.  Nope.  I’ll never say a bad word about her.  She’s a woman.  She’s an athlete.  And she’s bad motherfuckin’ ass.  Her attitude to the ring had me hyped.  All business, all the time.  She revolutionized the bitch face game.  I loved it.  Then once the match started I thought for sure she was going to have to tap to the rear naked choke but somehow she threw Liz off like she was just a backpack.  Just a ‘get off me real quick while I fix my bra.’  Then after that it was submit city.  Ronda was done playing.  She started unloading punches.  I’m not sure how many she ate, but Liz was eating them like they were Pop Tarts, (h/t to Joe Rogan for the line.)  The strawberry kind.  Ronda is a damn spider monkey when on the mat.  I don’t know how many times she turned and flipped and vuala, before Carmouche knew it her arm was being yanked out of its socket.  Liz knew at that point what to do.  There was no Miesha Tate remix.

Ronda is my new favorite MMA fighter.  My new favorite athlete.  My new favorite person.  I feel like I’m going to be doing a lot of Ronda internet stalking in the near future.  Most definitely join a fan club or two.  And she will most definitely, definitely be getting some tweets sent her way from me.  That’s a guarantee.  One has already been sent.  The next will be sent upon posting this blog.  I hope she likes it and doesn’t find it creepy.  I also hope she likes guys who are roughly the same body build as her.  But whom can’t fight their way out of a wet paper bag.  I’m not going to sit here and pretend to know what I’m doing.  I’m pretty sure both these kids would beat my ass.  I’m just here to say I’m really good with my words; a vocabulary ass beater of sorts.  I can make folks cry as if I just shot their puppy in front of them.   And she’s a physical ass beater.  She makes chicks cry by breaking bones.  We’re kind of the perfect team.  Its remarkable.  We could be like Bonnie and Clyde.  “So let’s, lock this down like it’s supposed to be; The ’13 Bonnie and Clyde, Rous and B”

Yeah, I’m a dude, but if you don’t think I’m ordering these shirts as part of my next internet spending spree you’re out of your marbles.  I’m selling blood tomorrow just to help pay for them.  Let’s get serious.

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