When Carlos Condit retired Nick Diaz: A Gonzo coverage of a shamanistic retirement dance at UFC 143.

Gonzo MMA - Explicitly for adults

I came to Vegas from Sweden fully loaded with everything a reporter will need but as soon as i stepped of the strip some scary hobo stole my drugs. My money I have hidden sneakily in my shoes but my drugs they are always close at hand but they are meant for betting, not drugs.

Feeling betrayed by Vegas , the third Reich’s high mark according to the duke, I go to my motel room to sleep. It is cheap and sleazy, hookers and meth dealers everywhere and I am a goddamn pacifist!

To scared to sleep I read the bible and experience the most horrific lucid nightmares you could imagine. Layers and layers upon dreams and no totem in the world could tell me what was real and not. I guess i don't need the drugs to get mindfucked.

When i wake up I see that I have made a recording on my voice recorder app.

I must have been dreaming on the edge of death because the tape was a news story I had written in my lucid madness.

The tape read:

"And today, in what must be described as groundbreaking news a local homeless man found Noah’s ark.

Apparently it had been hidden in a cave outside west Memphis Arkansas.

News reporters and religious leaders from all over the world are, in what must almost be described as a pilgrimage, flocking to this spectacle.

The reporters all want something to report for the modern day twenty-four hour news cycle,-the endless re-burp of brain farts and lies. And the religious leaders are all desperately trying to seek confirmation for their dying universes.

Like ants desperately trying to raid a picnic table and as desperately being fenced off by the the police behind their yellow tape as a fold up newspaper.

Myself I wonder,what is in that goddamn cave. This ship must be a horrendous sight. A gigantic wooden ship,aged for decades and filled to the brim with the corpses of every animal that have ever existed. My god, what will come of this.

Will the inquisition restart or will the dying ship and clean bones of what once was, lead to an end to the endless madness and delusion,

The spectacle continues,the leaders in dresses each one weirder than the other are chanting and people are crying more intensively than the north Koreans after Kim Jon-iL’s fall.

Imagine, all this madness over a ship and a God that’s been dead long before Nietzsche's deceleration. The Germans did win the second world war and this is worse than the the Reich that followed

I really need some drugs, this reality is to fucked for me, so I take a ginormous amount of PCP and directly meet God and together we laugh at the spectacle below.

What fucking morons he said:
-But I love them,they will learn or perish, it does not really matter. I created them and I can create what I want.

I looked at him with amazement and took some more PCP and blacked out in my motel room

Out there the news story continues,a fucking boat in a fucking cave, that’s it."

That is some real fucked up shit, but i wake up so close to fight time so who have time for existentialism now. I have missed all the other matches on the main card but i should be able to make it in time for the main event.

Some fucking midget in the elevator is giving me trouble but i manage to get to my seat in time. Sober but still fucked up from all the layers of reality I have just experienced I rush through the casino floor surrounded by fat and ugly tourists mixed with the cool guys in Ed Hardy caps and Affliction shirts.

I came to my seat just in time to see Carlos dance in circles like a shaman and with Greg Jackson chanting over the judges towards a point match win against the ever so frustrated weed warrior from 209.

Besides me stands an old man that is wearing a Condit walkout tea with a smirk on his face. Every time he smiled , it was as if I felt a shiver from my toes to my eyeballs when my heart was met by his complacency . Journalists are supposed to stay impartial but hell no I want to fuck the world with the Diaz Brothers and 209.

I have invested my whole advance for this article on a bet on Diaz and I am somewhat sure that the fairly seldom seen fairy fortune now will smile upon me and that Diaz will KO that SOB. That I soon can buy some pot from someone and a juicy fat burger in the Casino bar in front of wild, crazy and insanely drunk and self-pleasant gamblers.

The final bell closes. I already know what the judges will say, I know how they view MMA. No Stockton rules here. The blood is now pushing adrenaline into my body and I want violence. Hard and horny raw fucking Tank Abbot violence , I want to rape this old mans handsome face with my oddly shaped fists.

But Gandhi spoke to me like Obi-Wan and I get up from my disgusting seat and go.

In the slot area I meet a criminal Slot-Jockey who sell me some LSD for the secret cash I have left in my shoe. I go to the bar where some local band are playing and ask for six tequila shots .

They will only serve me six at once so I start changing bars.
The drug's are kicking it loud when I am running around all the bars in the Casino downing tequila to what is now a mixture of bad music , oddly dancing dwarfs and pink hippos around the blackjack tables .

I quickly get thrown out.

Everything is green and beautiful , small gnomes in happy costumes follows me out to the street and leads me to the nearest gay bar . Even before I get into the place a young transvestite, which in my eyes look like a hot sexy Reese Whiterspoon, is begging for a smoke.

I give her one rolled with Ketamine I bought from Johnny NoCash in the frenzy that was before they threw me out .

I've already been fucked by three men today said the tranny with a smile unknowingly smoking my Ketamin bastard. Afterward she leads me to the club and on to the dance floor . Once there, the Ketamine kick in at the same time as the Bubbeltron and the DJ kicks off Cher's I believe .

There, in a sea of soap bubble's with my arms raised towards space, flying around among all these gorgeous gay men, lesbians and colors I felt reborn , DE-tilted.
I thought about life and love again after condits shamanic retirement dance.

Now there were just colors and an ever hornier tranny.

I do not know how we ended up at her house but there sat a fat old man on the couch . He was from Iraq , he could not speak English and he wore a Tap Out T-shirt. He did not care that we fucked right there on the couch, I think he was jerking off even .
I floated in Nirvana. LSD and Ketamine are magical and potentially lethal drugs combined with transsexuals.

When I wake up in the morning I immediately realized my destiny. I lie train with the tranny and the fat old Iraqi in an old Ikea bed. I am in pain . It smells like ass. I am naked .

Nick diaz lost fair and square under the unified fucking rules of MMA and retired.
Reese Whiter Spoon now looks like Woody Harrelson and no Pot , Stockton rules, LSD or Ketamine in the world can now change that fact.

I hastily flee back to the Swedish forest.

A few weeks later I get a letter saying I have to go test myself for worms and syphilis.

(Neither salad tossing nor MMA will ever be the same again)

Fun life.


\The FanPosts are solely the subjective opinions of Bloody Elbow readers and do not necessarily reflect the views of Bloody Elbow editors or staff.

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