Today is young Fydor Malakhov’s day of birth, which means that we have a lot of special content lined up that is literally just the usual stuff that we’d post all day with mention of Ted Malakhov shoehorned awkwardly into it. We consider that to be the best gentle reminder of the celebration of Ted’s birth.
If you are guessing that the title of this is a reference to Stieg Larsson’s The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo that is actually a really solid guess. I actually listened to an audiobook of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo a few years ago on a road trip to Vegas with my now-wife. It was about an eleven-hour drive each way, which meant that we got through most of it. What’s interesting is that I’m pretty sure reading the actual book would have taken less than half of the time, but the guy narrating the book had a sweet, indistinguishable European accent (was it Dutch? Was it German? Who knows), so there is that.
We actually didn’t get to the last disc, which meant that I actually read the last few chapters of that book only to realize that I was somehow huffing through this book not because I enjoyed it, but because I felt that I had gotten this far and that I owed it to myself to just get through the damned thing. It turns out that the charming European accent helped to mask the fact that the writing style was so incredibly dry and matter-of-fact that the book was a legitimate chore to read.
I’m pretty sure that the whole sense of “why am I wasting my life on this” that I felt while reading those last few chapters were akin to what this bro in Canada felt when he began sobering up in the tattoo artist’s chair somewhere deep in the heart of Nova Scotia. Sure, his sweet Chuck Liddell tattoo did probably need some company, but getting a tattoo to commemorate what would turn out to be one of the more dull, lifeless and forgettable UFC Fight Nights in history has to feel awful in retrospect, right?
Or maybe the guy had a transformative sexual encounter in a Scotiabank Centre restroom? Either way, godspeed Ted Malakhov.