Maybe my handicapping is affected by my sadistic personality disorder, but you don't get it simpleton, I like the blood, I derive pleasure, and gratification, from watching the inflicting of pain or humiliation on others. I enjoy the science of combat, I enjoy the writing a script of what i think will happen.
What part of I don't care; do you not understand, its not about the money, its about the entertainment, win or lose; its about the carnage and damage. If someone leg or arm or jaw gets broken i got my money worth. I don't wake up injured, I like watching one man give another brain damage. I pay in hopes seeing more people die in the cage. I have been this way since i saw Ray Boom Boom mancini killed Kim Duk-koo, i watched that ending 1000 times.
Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
