Feelin Myself

Breaking news people. I have decided to embark on an epic journey. One that can only be traversed alone. I will see things that I have never seen, experience life in a a new and fantastic sometimes absurd way. I have waited until I am close to the precipice of my 40th year on this here planet to undertake this epic adventure. I my dear friends and family am pregnant...again...at 39. I must be out of my damn mind!

Most of you already know that the original boy is 22 and enjoying his Junior year at college so I am sure you are wondering why in the name of everything correct would I go and get knocked up now? When he is so close to being out of my pocket and out in the real world. Well it would only be right if somehow I were the very first of my group to have a child and then somehow be the very last. Girls I went to school with are grandparents now. That's no exaggeration, there are like 7 of them. I counted. These kids are toddlers too, not newborns. I am unfashionably late to this party and I showed up unable to drink your liquor or eat your fancy charcuterie/soft cheese/raw fish hors d'oeuvres. How about them apples?

All this fussing I am doing ehh just ignore me. My husband is so happy he could just explode. This is his first baby and a boy at that so he feels like he his the damn jackpot. I honestly feel like I did too. First off, I didn't want to do hair. I don't want to do my own as evidenced by this Side Show Bob mess on my dome. Next, girls like accessories, and colors, and other things I don't do well. Every woman I know was praying I was having a girl but twas not to be. I am happy as hell I am getting another boy. I did a bang up job with the first and I plan on doing the same with the second. Y'all can keep your boy band posters, barrettes, dresses and barbies. I am good. This does make me slightly outnumbered by 4 in the household but I don't really care. there are worse problems to have IMO (like not being able to eat sushi, lunch meat, soft cheese or wine) so I guess I will survive.

I have another 6 months to go and right now I am a pretty manageable size. I am low-key agitated that no one can tell I am pregnant with this basketball I am sporting up front. First off, if you look at me and aren't thinking pregnant are you thinking I am just fat right in the middle? Like who looks like this that isn't pregnant? I am fully confused! I cant get a damn seat on the train, people wont make eye contact and all I want to do is scream "I'm not fat I am pregnant you ninny!" Seriously, where are people shaped like this that aren't pregnant? I want to know!

Our anniversary just passed last week and things are still wonderful despite the leggy greedy guy in my gut telling me when to sleep, eat, pee and forget things. He is already pushy as fuck. God only knows what the sweet little long legged angel is doing in there most days. There probably wont be another post until after he shows up cause I forget this thing exists and well no one reads it anymore. Its nice for me though. Off to go eat!

Blank Space

What can or should I say about the last 5 months? There's been triumph and tragedy and joy and sorry and new friends and obstacles. What can I say? I can start with the good. My son is doing well in school, I love my husband and our marriage, I am officially an SGI Budhist and I am employed and finishing my last 8 credits. All of these things and my wonderful friends and family are great. The other shit... I am tired all the time, and broke. I have possibly the most unhappy person on the planet as my boss and I am fat cause I can't work out between the two jobs and school. If that weren't enough my dad has the remainder of his kidney removed in October due to another tumor, resetting his transplant clock to two years at the one year and 5 month mark. Devastating news for us all and before he can heal up we get the crazy news that mom has breast cancer. So one week out from intense chemo for what we thought was stage 1 but after surgery turned out to be stage 3, we are just trying to make the best of it all. For her, cause not to sound cliche but why the fuck her? Granted, if it's gonna be someone, Cancer picked the toughest bitch available. My momma wasn't built with any quit in her. So even though I know it's gonna be bumpy, she is gonna fight. You know those Internet memes that say stuff like "I was built for this shit?" That's mom. She possesses a mental toughness that most regular folks haven't ever seen. So fuck that Cancer. In the words of my husband. "If you see my mother in law in a fight with a bear, you better go help the bear." I will figure out how to feel about all this later. When I am less tired and my folks are healthy and I don't have a demon for a boss.

Spring 2014 or That year I got fired, got married, became a buddhist, took summer classes, lost 20lbs, lost my bathroom ceiling, worked in a liquor store and watched my 21 year old get a degree.

Yeah so there's that. Who knew all this time that 2014 was secretly lying in wait for me to do everything I hadn't managed to accomplish or fail at all in the span of six short months. Hey do you know unemployment pays like nothing and stops after 6 months? I should be down at the food stamp line or walking the track. Fuck me. I just keep thinking about the creditors. I hate creditors. Why the fuck did you even give me that money if you didn't want me to spend it? You knew I wasn't good for that shit when you sent the card. SMH... So instead of sitting at home bitching about that wretched job I fucking hated any.damn.how I am ringing up fellow drunks in my happy place. We will call it the liquor emporium for safety sake and because...fuck it that sounds fancy/classy and shit. On my off time (read: days, weekends and such) I am working tirelessly on boring a hole straight through the couch with my ass as I attempt feats such as "finish your degree" and "don't fail math". It's really quite interesting. I even bore the dog. An animal that sleeps a solid 20 hours a day. I bore him! Talent I tell ya. Honestly, I complain but I should be grateful. Which I sort of am. I have had a monster break that has allowed me to keep from putting more miles on my vehicle and not get an oil change since March. I have also been building my good karma which is pretty cool too. Except all this fancy expensive schooling is keeping me from gongyo and Daimoku with my fellow faith folks on the regular. Oh, hey I did something grown up other than get hitched. We will get there I promise. I got a tutor. I went and found me a math tutor to help me with my remedial fraction life. It only took 20+ years for me to realize that I wasn't ever gonna "get" algebra on my own. She is cool too in a bookish, doctoral student way. I dig her. If I thought she drank or left the house to do fun shit I would totally drag her out to have fun. Oh shit! I am supposed to be writing her a review! Then there was the portal to another universe that opened up in my only lavatory. Twice I awoke to the recreation of the great flood in my bathroom. Once when the light fixture fell off the wall and the second time when a bubble of water large enough to drown a small animal formed behind the latex paint. The first time they only came out to patch the ceiling. The second? Well they are in there removing the whole damn shebang right now. Granted, I am not happy about 6 hours of math set to the soundtrack of saws and hammers but at least I know that there won't be any creatures climbing through it to come and get me. Thanks mom for the visual. So, back to the wedding. It was small. We just decided in the intellectual words of Jagged Edge we weren't getting no younger so we might as well do it. We just felt like it was the right time and we didn't want to pay to feed gossipy fake people who want to trade a $20 picture frame for a $100 dinner. Fuck em. We had a small family get together afterwards and ate some food together and later went off to Vegas in a very funny mock honeymoon. Oh and I will probably never remember our wedding date either. Cause it was initially planned for May 23rd a Friday but then my kid needed to graduate from college that day so we moved it to the 22nd. It was comical in a happy, sort of unexpected change way. Then I cried like a fool during the kids graduation. The whole damn time. Oh and my mother clowned me as I bawled like an infant. Way to go mom! All that lead up to say that the boy got accepted to a 4 year and they are steady dicking him around on the daily. Welcome to higher learning kid. As for me I finally found someone to hire my fail ass. Sure it's twice the work for 2/3 the money and my new boss is the most unprofessional person in life, but let's just thank the universe that I will be drawing down a paycheck. No hooking for me! I kid I kid. It's not bad it's just not ideal. It could be worse. I will just try to remember what T.I. says and when they ask how you are say "better than you!"

This is me...then

My life is changing. A lot. Some by choice some by design but all for the better. I am trying to understand myself and those around me. Somedays are hard and these changes fit poorly and look matronly and sad. I will work it out eventually. The one thing I've learned is that everything is temporary. 

What is sticking in my craw is not being able to match communication with people. For instance, explaining the difference between anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds to someone who thinks Psychology is voodoo and all pills are a crutch is frustrating as fuck. So I am upset, and I feel unsupported because the person I love and want to marry is a complete clod about modern medicine.

It's the tried and true way of black folks. The majority believe that mental health services are akin to witch doctory. Well buddy, let me tell you about who I was before all that fancy chemical balancing medication I've been taking since the early 90's. It's the only thing standing between me and abject insanity. It's the reason I am able to live the life I have now, and most of the reason you tolerate me at all.

I am a profoundly depressed individual. Have been since adolescence. It's taken forever for me to get to the point where I can feel comfortable even taking the damn things much less tell folks that I do. So when I get pushback (for doing what A. Is smart and B. Is my chosen degree program) from someone who is also profoundly fucked up with years of latent anger and grief, drowned for 15 years in liquor to dull it, I get irritated.

So, while I probably won't tell him, let me tell you who the unmedicated Avin was. Avin, in her early 20's only had trash that clinked. She chain smoked and contemplated suicide daily. She indescriminatly fucked random guys from the internet and the office, spent an inordinate amount of time causing others problems and basically not giving a fuck. AT. ALL. This fucked up individual was someone's mother. A very small, very impressionable boy and though I never put him in the direct line of harm, I did make stupid shitty ass choices that could have turned into a real mess. One night after a high school friend turned stalker found my number and called 20 times in 3 hours I had a had enough. I found Paxil and a shrink after a nervous breakdown and my entire world changed.

Over the years I have changed meds and doctors but the fact remains the same without pills I am a wild card. I found that out the hard way this summer. My cash started running low and I couldn't afford my shrink because of the crapass insurance my former boss offered. So I started running out of meds at possibly the worst time imaginable. My fiancé almost killed himself in a drunken blackout car wreck and I started fretting about the future. My dad was diagnosed with kidney cancer...again, and my folks had to go to California for 6 weeks for his partial nephrectomy. Work got intense and without my trusty meds to bolster me, the depression crept back in and I started spiraling. I was either angry or crying every day. I stopped talking to friends, snapping at family and generally just being a jerk. My anxiety which goes and and hand with my depression started affecting my sleep. I called off the wedding. In fairness, I wasn't getting any help and I was out of money anyway. Then I stopped sleeping, and started trying to combat the insomnia with excersize.  It didn't work. Basically, I was a terror for 3 months, a living breathing monster having panic attacks constantly.

Then I spoke to my therapist who (god love her) let me come free of charge for a while till my money got right. Only then did the world come into focus again. By then I had a mess to clean up, my fiancé was accusing me of all sort of treachery, and my friends were like wtf. Needless to say, if I can avoid going off my meds I do.

So, when I got laid off in March, I was at least smart and lucky enough to reup and fast. I have enough to make it until my ACA healthcare kicks in. That and I had a chance encounter with a lady at my night job (henceforth referred to as my only job) who told a funny story about her cat who comes when she chants. She's Buddhist, and something in me volunteered that I have always had an interest in the practice. She invites me to their center and I take her card. That was the day before New Year's Eve and while I considered attending, my nerves got the better of me but I put her card in my purse. 

Fast forward to my being axed from a job I hated anyway by an awful man with no integrity on Fat Tuesday no less. As I clean out my desk in anger, blinking back tears, I find my Buddhist friend's card and I know immediately what I need to do. So I email her that day  and though I have no job and no prospects I am one thing and that is a practicing buddhist. I have always felt like one in my heart and I took to it like a duck to water. I chant every morning and evening and I fellowship with other Buddhists.

It to me was inevitable. The house full of Buddhas, the enormous tattoo on my back. Come on, I've always known and honestly so did my family. Friends have been super supportive and even the fiancé has been complementary. I feel better, hopeful, happy despite the obvious challenges of having no full time employment and a mortgage.

No matter, I chant the Daimoku and Gongyo with determination and it feels amazing. That said, positivity and purpose are wonderful, but I still have to take my meds. These things do not remove chemical imbalance. Facts are facts. So, that's who I am now but surely, things could be very different for me. I now understand that there are no accidents in Buddhism only cause and effect. Just like being laid off is the path that will lead me to something better, Zelda's card on my desk that day was no coincidence.

Everything is temporary, including this not having a job thing and I know because I chant Nam Myoho Renge Kyo. I chant for my fiancé to understand that the medicine isn't a crutch, and I chant to stay focused and positive about new employment. I even chant for people who  most would feel don't deserve it, like my former boss. It's a daily reminder that I am working toward a better life for me and all those around me. 

Ronda Rousey's Humility Problem

After a weekend filled with debate, I awoke this morning thinking about how little things have changed for women in this country over the last 30 years. Several very ridiculous debates have come about in the last few weeks and while I attempted to wrap my head around them several other incidents over the years popped into my head as well. First, lets discuss Ronda.

This weekend, after months of hype and build up, UFC 168 finally arrived and with it the Rousey vs. Tate fight. Folks who arent into MMA, if they knew anything about this fight at all, only knew what they had seen and heard in the media. I will give the general public a pass on knowing the ins and outs, so this is the story condensed. Rousey, who is the womens Bantam weight champ, has twice fought Miesha Tate. She is an olympic Judo bronze medalist, hailing from a former Judo world champion mother. She has an impressive 8-0 record fighting and beating Tate twice in less than two years. Her record as a fighter speaks for itself. Where the drama comes in is her personality. I've known about the Tate rivalry for a while, since before the first fight and there is no love loss between these two. They flat out dont like each other. Which, up to and during the taping of TUF 18 was mutual. They had shared very public verbal attacks, each giving as good as they got with Tate questioning Rousey's striking ability and Rousey questioning Tate's ground game. Once the cameras came on, it seemed as though the only person not fond of the other was Rousey. In the case of Tate, she seemed game to let herself be portrayed as the calmer, classier of the two and Ronda for her part seemed impatient, petty and perpetually butthurt. Rousey has since said that the editing was very favorable to Tate as she was attempting to mend fences with Rousey every week and clutching her pearls when the olive branch extended was repeatedly snapped in half. The anger between the two came to a rapid boil this weekend and culminated in Rousey's 3rd round win and a defening chorus of boos from the attending audiance as Ronda graciously accepted her belt back and attempted to explain why she refused to shake Tate's hand after the tap. Seems awful right? Well, lets examine this a little further shall we?

First, I dont profess to understand the reality TV editing process, but I do have to say that when you are told that you are coaching with one person, and your arch rival shows up in their place, you might be a little peeved. Second, Tate is well aware that this would upset Ronda, and for his part so was Dana. They seemed almost gleeful about the pairing as there was no way that Tate's presence would rub Rousey the wrong way immediately. Tension is a big seller and this rivalry did wonders for TUF 18. It was one of the most watched TUF seasons in history. In addition, everyone loves a good villan, and it was easy to slide Rousey into this position. She is confident, cocky, unapologetic. She will trash talk you, she absolutley has no quit in her and no room for self doubt. This is what made her a Judo champ and what makes her such a great fighter. That type of thinking and bravado that made Ali unstoppable, it is how The Rock spent most of his early career in wrestling (despite what you might think of the validity of wrestling) and in the same night, a fighter notorious for his grandstanding and mocking of opponants, who was arguably the best MMA fighter in the world, lost his rematch in a horrific injury. None of these people had any issue with being the villain. They were booed and jeered and they still went on to successfuly win or defend titles. The closest I have seen to the type of vitrolic angst displayed by Rousey haters was when Ali was called a draft dodger (this right here is deeper than rap so I will not go much further) but no one disputed his talent and his trash talk was not only tolerated but celebrated and quoted year after year. The difference in this comparison between a Rousey and an Ali only boils down to one thing. Gender.

America, god love it or something, still has a HUGE problem with women. Not just fighting women, or singing women, or reporting women, or business women. Nope, america's problem with the entirety of women in general is the same as its always been. If you arent humble, you are disrespectful and this is where Tate has been able to gain fans over Rousey. Its not about talent, because we were all on board with her and her talent last year during the Carmouche fight remember? No one was in Carmouche's corner were they? Well, she didnt look like Tate either, so there is that but basically put, pretty girls should be quiet and bragging about one's athletic prowess and not being willing to make nice with an opponant is a highly undesirable trait for a woman. Whether she chose to shake the hand of a woman who she felt had disrespected her family or not, the crowd's decision had been made long before that. The snub just added more fuel to the fire.

Not only will Ronda not sell herself short, but she refused to engage in what looked like calculated attacks on her group by the Tate folks day after day during the TUF season. Even after Dana sat them both down to discuss it, Ronda practiced avoidance and Tate just kept poking the bear. The eyebrow joke about Edmund, the socks thing during the square up photo, the training coach who came just to start shit with Edmund to get him kicked off, and how could we forget Tate's boyfriend being confronted about his mysoginistic tweet threatening to punch Rousey's teeth down her throat or the subsequent "know your place" tweet. So, when the media sees Tate smiling with her outstretched hand to offer her congratulations on the fight (after baiting and goating this thing along for months) everyone is appauled at Rousey's lack of sportsmanship when she doesnt want to shake her hand? I dont recall that being a caviot of competition, that you smile and accept the extended hand of your opponant less you be seen as a createn or a nardowell. No, I dont even think we would be talking about this if these two were men.

We are talking about professional fighters here. People who spend their day's and nights training to pound in each others faces and we are all so shocked that they arent going to the nail place together? No, we arent, and if this were a group of men, no one would give a shit about  because it doesnt really matter unless you are a woman. Then maybe you should smile pretty and be everyone's friend and never crow too loudly about your accomplishments and in the words of Brian Caraway know your place. Maybe then you wont be seen as disrespectful and then we can talk about what this is really about. Letting women continue to be mute and sexy agreeable entities who do this for the enjoyment of men, not the love of the sport. The worst offenders by the way are women. You should see the way they have gone on the attack. Joining right in with the men to defend poor Tate against that horrible Rousey. They are all over the comments sections of every blog, report and I tell you, I expect it from men, but the women really shocked me. Women's MMA is already much maligned and those involved struggle everyday to support each other and defend women's right to even be included in this sport. Between the "this isnt feminisim" folks and the "women shouldnt do this camp" it just bothers me to watch women lead the charge against each other. I dont want it to seem like this just applies to physical persuits. Nope, lets talk about this new Beyonce album.

For the last three weeks I have had to hear all about how Beyonce isnt shit. She cant sing, we hate her songs, her fans are annoying. Yeah yeah, okay so depending upon the week that's every women in the entertainment industry. Oh you think not? Lets see. Lady Gaga is too weird, and cant sing, J.LO cant sing or dance, Mariah is crazy, Ciara is a man, Taylor Swift is bitter, Miley Cyrus is a slut, Katy Perry is stupid, Mary J. cant sing, Christina A. cant dress, Adele is too fat. I mean those are just the ones in the public eye right now. Those that have passed? They dont get a break either. Whitney was a druggie, Amy Winehouse was a drunk. I mean there are countless other singers who no one can seem to say anything remotely nice about and of course who is leading the charge? Women. My own friends have bought the hype. Personally, I cant figure out all the hatred for Beyonce. She doesnt bother me one way or the other. None of them do honestly, but the most in thing to do these days is to just complain about how someone who does something you couldnt do on your best day isnt good enough. The new album is a departure from her regular radio friendly fare. She talks about sex with "gasp" her husband of almost 6 years and she had the audacity to bite back at those haters who she was tired of hearing from. God forbid she think she is great at what she does, and speaks about sex. She must be horrible, she cant be a feminist! People please stop it. We have enough trouble making it through the day without having to hear from everyone how substandard we are as women, now we cant even listen to music?

And this isnt new. Remeber when Natilie Maines said something about Dubya and Texas? Jesus they were talking about killing those girls. God forbid they dont agree with your politics. Sometimes it doesnt even have to be political we just have the audacity to breathe and live and suddenly women who dont pipe down are lesbians or dont know their place. It just fosters the male belief that we are emotional and catty. It happens at our jobs, all day on social media, and everywhere you turn. So when people feel like they need to speak up about Ronda Rousey not knowing her place or not being humble enough for the masses I have to wonder when we are going to stop being villified for being proud enough to own our greatness and not cow tow to those who feel we shouldnt brag about our accomplishments?

Good Eats

My inordinate love of food has been pulling me to new places all over town recently. The thing about new places is that when they are good, you almost don't know how to behave. Case in point, you hear about or get the scoop on someplace obscure. You find out that their food is amazing and then the dilemma sets in. If you scream from the mountaintops that you love the place will you ever get a seat there again? Will the quality of the food suffer under the weight of the new customers? Or do you simply keep quiet so you can have all of their delicious food to yourself and run the risk of having the business shut its doors due to lack of traffic? I honestly have no idea what to do in those situations. Right now I am sitting on two fabulous places that I want to reccomend (and I will, give me a min damn) to the world but I know that the more folks I tell, the more people will box me out of a table. Ah well let me just give folks their props.

Cafe Rue in Beltsville

Awesome place, awesome chef, unbelievable food. Seriously, I went with the fiance last week and I havent stopped thinking about the food since we left. In my quest to remain out of the fatgirl catagory (until the wedding) I cant just go traipsing up there any old time I please getting fat off the best chicken and waffles in the entire area. No seriously, you can quote me on that. Never, have I had such amazing, crispy, juicy deep-fried goodness paired with a light and crispy waffle in my entire life. This man has the whole game right. I had the Sriracha chicken and waffle and soon to be husband had the Chicken and Red Velvet waffle. I seriously had trouble finishing it all. Home made hotsauce, pecan butter, just extraordinary goodness of the highest order. I will go back as much as my waistline allows, and I encourage you to do the same. No, go like right now.

Honest

Recently I have realized that amongst some circles I am not well liked. To this I say Good! I am sorry, let me clarify if I might. In the words of Fantasia "I'm feeling a little wavy, so right now I don't mind pulling your card".

Fuck your dog ass, turnip shaped husband and his bitch ass friends and your drag queen looking, hooker ass homegirl who don't fucking know me and her ratchet, horrible ass makeup and eyebrow game.

Fuck your lying, smiling, shucking and jiving, never available always lying, ain't about shit probably married ass boyfriend. No one believes him and he should get cancer.

Fuck your coworking bitch ass, and your cry baby, dirty clothes wearing, idiot fucking, lame ass best friend.

Fuck you and your gossiping commiserating with the aforementioned dog ass husband on Facebook cousin and your punk ass manipulative, passive aggressive linkedin stalking ass.

Fuck you, your mammy, your homegirls and your bitch ass, hut dwelling baby daddy for thinking you all matter and for ungratefully mooching off me like a goddamn parasite for years.

Eat two dicks with your ugly pig looking fat ass and your new Philly freeway lookin husband with your shitty no sense having ex-wife ass.

Catch a brick with your woah is me soft, old, no sense having, disease ridden, bitch made "my wife doesn't understand me" please get the fuck outta here ass.

Triple fuck your absentee ass and ya inbred looking, future third exwife and your tribe of barefoot, backwoods stupid ass, recessive gene sporting, hydrocephalus having progeny.

Fuck your disrespectful two baby momma, basement dwelling fail ass and your shady get rich quick parents. 

This is your last mention on this blog. I hope you all climb something high, get up a running start and aim for something sharp on the pavement. All of you go kill yourselves. You are welcomed. 

Oh, oh, collard greens...

Thanksgiving was good. Quiet as hell thanks to an entire faction of the family being missing this year. Shit works for me. Less dishes to clean less sweet potatoes to cook. I am full and contemplating the why's of society.

I had a very busy night at job 2 yesterday and some interesting convo with a coworker. A kid basically. He might be two years older than my kid but he is pretty smart. Good head in his shoulders. I bring this up to mention that I realty think I was some sort of Jewish matchmaker in a former life.

The way I understand it is that the act of matchmaking in the Hebrew faith is called The Shidduch. The way I understand it this comes from a recommendation from family members, friends or others who see matchmaking as a mitzvah, or commandment. I am always attempting to pair like minded love minded souls which I thing might be residuals of a past life. Anyway, the kid. He needs a girlfriend and I think I might be able to help him. The terrible little two-toned skunk hair little girl that spends all her time trying to get with him is not the right one. This heffa had on all cammo errything yesterday. Shameful and tragic. I will spend some amount of time attempting to find him a suitable mate. Not too much mind you, but I can see that the pool he is wading in now is very shallow.

Outside of that I watched the TUF finale Saturday night. I was not shocked by any of it honestly. I figured Julianna would win against Rakoczy and though I didnt want it to happen I saw Holdsworth winning against Grant. Nothing was surprising about either fight. 

TUF: Episode 12

Of course I came in about 10 min late to the show due to work but what is the first thing I see? Gutierrez. Its three hours to fight time and he still has to cut 8 damn pounds. From what I could gather from the conversation he was 144 the night prior to the fight, and woke up at 145 (the scale on the wall indicated that). He seemed unfazed at first, but I have said it before and I will say it again. Cutting weight, any weight at all is hard. All the Epsom salt baths and sauna stints in the world are sometimes not enough to bridge a big weight gap. I did see one of my teammates cut 16 lbs for a fight once. He is usually a pretty bubbly guy, but between the excessive sweating, running and hunger he was less than amiable that day. I personally think Anthony was a victim of Pena's enchiladas. He and Bollinger talked mad shit about her but they were eating her cooking like someone was going to steal it. So Anthony is bitching about taking breaks and seriously, how is that going to work when you have so much weight to lose? He was clearly the eatingist MF in the whole house and in the end even Baszler couldn't defend his ass. The whole episode is about how this confirmed clown (check my posts I called it week 2) can't make weight.

They switch off to talk about Davey for a while. He is lean and mean. Hungry but lean and clearly focused on winning and getting home to his young sons. Meanwhile, Gutierrez is still bitching about taking breaks and Edmond, Manny and Ronda look like to top of their heads are about to blow off. Now, if you'll recall this is the same, game playing, shit talking, enchilada eating, free pass getting motherfucker who has had the whole season to train and lose weight. Did he do that? Nope. He wanted to talk shit about Pena and try to come for Fissette. You remember that shit. When they asked him "who do you think is the weakest here" and this fool said Fissette. Naww bitch, that's you! You are the softest, weakest link. Talking about "I could take you". Not if you don't make weight jackass. I know what you can take. A seat and another enchilada. It's soft just like you. 

After the official weigh in he has an hour left and he comes in at 140. After a smooth 30 more minutes this asshat says he is gonna quit cause that's what bitches do. Sure enough here comes Dana to publicly embarrass his monkey ass and show him the door but first he gives him the opportunity to explain himself. This fool launches into the most pointless explanation of his mega-epic fail including saying that he doesn't expect Davey to forgive him. Davey for his part promptly says "I wont". Frankly I don't blame him. He wanted to earn this. Not get it by default. Dana points at the door and we bid adieu to Gutierrez and good riddance to big bitches. 

Next week is the last semi-final fight between Jessica Rakoczy and Raquel Pennington. They are both top notch boxers and they both really want it bad so this should be great fight.