There are people who sit outside for days waiting for a new pair of sneakers or a new iPhone. They’re the same people I want to challenge to a Kumite deathmatch. I’m not sure what the rules of such a contest are, but I’m fairly certain that they wouldn’t leave their lawn chairs and risk losing their spot in line. It’d be easier than shooting fish in a barrel with little-to-no pro MMA experience. After viciously slaughtering countless fashion/technology geeks, I’m fairly certain I’d have enough confidence to do anything I ever wanted to achieve with my life. Unfortunately, we live in a police state, and the moment the first punch is thrown, I’d be thrown in jail for eternity, or whatever the penalty is for attacking hipsters who’s parents are successful criminal prosecutors.
The moral of this story is that Tim Kennedy wants you to vote, and if you don’t he’s going to fight you in a Kumite deathmatch. The scenario above was just my vivid imagination running wild. I probably couldn’t even beat Stephen Hawking in a Kumite deathmatch. He’d find a way to use his wheelchair to run me over and rip my spleen out. Tim Kennedy, on the other hand, he can do it with military precision using a sniper rifle, or his fists.
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