First off, that little bitch earthquake can lick the balls. Didn't even feel it.
Secondly, I got a bunch of emails from Poop Readers saying they were dumping out at the exact moment the earthquake struck. Lots of jokes about their poops being the root cause. Shit kills me. Something about a dude being stuck on the toilet during a disaster-type situation just tickles me pink. A. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. To Hades if you're leaving that toilet come hell or high water with doo doo squishing around in your butt cheeks. Just gotta sit there, hold on tight, and hope for the best. That's it. and B. That's the part they never show in action movies. How come Bruce Willis was never sitting on the can when it was time to move? Sly Stallone getting rid of ma's lasagna when the shit hits the fan? That never happens. It should. I would like a movie called "Earthquake" starting with Vin Diesel reading some awful car magazine on the shitter at some boring white collar job he hates. Then he saves the day while also trying to convince people he likes girls. Tell me that's not cinema verite like a motherfucker.
The fact that all these dudes crawled out of the bathroom after an earthquake hit New York City while they were shitting and thought of the same joke to email me about kills me too. Dudes are so gross. So predictable. So great.
Anyway, Chris Jones on Arturo Gatti's death here. Cool fighter, cool story, cool writer. Oh and Chris Jones has boxed some so you know he speaks from the heart. Enjoy.