Day 4, February 7th

Fight night.
We were doing a UFC fight night in Tampa headlined by a great match up of two promising young prospects in Jeremy Stephens VS Joe Lauzon.
There were 10 great match ups in all that night, and all 10 of them were exciting.
The UFC fight nights are great because they’re an awesome opportunity for young fighters coming up to get on Spike TV and get seen by millions of people.
It’s especially cool that we can put these fights on in places where we’ve never been before, like Tampa, Florida.

Joe Lauzon looked outstanding and used his ever improving jiu jitsu technique to catch the wild man Stephens in an armbar and force him to tap. Before he got the submission he had to weather some rocky moments where the powerhouse Stephens was raining down some dangerous blows. All in all it was an excellent contest, and a nice victory for Lauzon.
There were other great fights on the card as Josh Neer broke down Mac Danzig and eventually submitted him with a triangle in his best UFC performance yet, and Cain Velasquez was awarded KO of the night while showing people why he’s the most talked about prospect in the Heavyweight division.

I’ve had a lot of “jobs” in my life, but none that I’ve enjoyed as much as being a commentator for the UFC. It’s just a flat out awesome fucking job.
I’m such a huge fan of the sport that I look forward to every single event, and I feel extremely fortunate to get the opportunity to call all of these amazing matches. I tell people all the time that I don’t know anything about other sports and they think I’m kidding, but it’s true.
I couldn’t name you 4 baseball players unless they’ve been in the news because they were caught using steroids, and I still don’t have any idea who won the superbowl.
I just think regular sports are boring.
Although I am a bit of a weirdo admittedly, because I do watch professional pool on TV all the time, and to a lot of people that’s boring beyond belief.
To me though it’s just a part of a lingering fascination with a game that I became obsessed with when I was younger.
You know what they say about being able to play pool – glorious results of a misspent youth, and all that good stuff.
I guess that probably has a lot to do with my obsession with martial arts too, now that I’m breaking down my interests.

The bottom line is that I’ve reached this amazing moment in my life where everything I do I enjoy. I love doing stand up, and I love working for the UFC.
There’s never a week where I’m like, “shit, I don’t wanna work.”
It’s an awesome place to be in life, and it’s abso-fucking-lutely worth every ounce of energy it takes to reach a place like this.
It’s a different place for every single person, because we’re all different and we’ve all got different aspirations, but the constant is the same: follow your passions, and if you can find a way to make a living at what you truly love to do, you’ll never feel like you’re working.
Whatever the fuck it is that you want to do with your life, whether it’s become a painter, or a chef, or a stand up comic, or whatever the fuck it is – whatever your gig is – go for that shit. If there’s one message I can give people that’s one of the most important things I’ve ever learned it’s that there is no substitution for following your interests.
Just look around at this insane financial collapse if you need any more proof. There are a lot of people that sacrificed an incredible amount of their time and energy doing something that they didn’t enjoy just to stockpile money, and in a blink of an eye their life’s work evaporated before their eyes.
In my opinion it’s one of the most important ingredients in a happy life.
Follow your fucking interests. Don’t listen to anyone that tells you it’s impossible, because there’s not a single fucking person in this life that’s ever done something worthwhile where no one doubted him or her.
It comes with the territory, and it just makes pulling it off ever the more sweet.

After the fights we wanted to get a good meal, so I asked our driver if there were any restaurants open after midnight that served good food.
He suggested a local gentlemen’s club that was also a great steak house.
How convenient.
At first it was just going to be my best friend Eddie, Tom Segura and our driver, but when the Spanish broadcast team found out where we were heading they thought it would be the prudent thing to do if they accompanied us, just in case there were some young latino gals with limited English and they had to translate.
Plus this way if anyone was talking shit about us in Spanish, they could alert us.
I agreed. We’re in a foreign land, and like Jack always says on Lost, “live together or die alone.”
The only question was going to be how the fuck are we going to fit 7 people in a fucking Lincoln town car?

At first I thought that they would realize that it was virtually impossible to stuff that many people in a medium sized sedan, but without missing a beat they began to push and stuff their way into this already full car.
Learn from my mistake and never underestimate the car-pooling skills of Mexicans.
Those motherfuckers packed into that thing like a god damned clown car, and we were off to the titty/steak house happy as a bunch of 5 year olds headed to chuckie cheese.
Now, ordinarily getting packed into a car like that with 6 other men would be uncomfortable, but the folks in the Spanish broadcast team for the UFC are some of the coolest people on the planet.
There’s Victor who does what I do, but in Spanish, Troy who is the Spanish play by play guy, and Jorge who is the producer of the whole shebang.
Jorge is seriously one of the funniest fucking people I’ve ever met in my life, and I always tell him that he could have easily been a stand up comic.
We were all stuffed into that car, but we laughed our asses off all the way to our destination.

The steak was excellent and hit the spot.
If you’re ever in Tampa and you want to get a great steak and see some lovely young naked bodies, you couldn’t do better than the Penthouse club.
I highly recommend it.
I enjoyed the fuck out of the food, but strip clubs just aren’t the same for me ever since my daughter was born.
Now I don’t see hot naked chicks anymore, I see babies with fake tits.
I know it might sound corny or even insincere, but that’s really what I see now.
I see babies. Babies that grew up and didn’t get the love and guidance they needed, so now they operate in this weird niche in society where they make their living while simultaneously filling some attention void that was created by a shitty childhood.
I’m not judging, and I’m not hating, and to be quite honest if I was a young gal in the midst of a recession and I had to choose between working as a waitress at the wafflehouse or dancing naked for 5 times as much money, I’m pretty sure I’d choose the pole as well. That doesn’t change anything for me when I’m there, though.
I’ve got a baby daughter, and I see those girls dancing, and I know that they’re someone’s babies. And with some of them, that was only 18 or so years ago.
I’ve been doing comedy for 20 years, and 18 years just doesn’t seem that long ago to me.
We ate, and we headed back to the hotel in a very non-party animal like fashion.
Tomorrow I’m gonna hang out with my Mom and Dad, so I would like to be well rested.