Fight Club is a great movie. What sticks with people the most from that movie is of course the club itself where grown men beat the shit out of each other for fun. It’s the ultimate catharsis and the best male bonding experience possible.
That’s why I belong to a fight club. Before you get all bothered about me telling you about this, you should know that the first rule of the fight club that I belong to is, yeah, it’s totally fine to talk about Fight Club. How else are you going to know when the next Fight Club is? The second rule is that if you’re going to drink, you should bring beer. There will probably be enough beer for you there, but you don’t want to be a dick. The last rule of fight club is that if you come to fight club, you have to fight.
Of course none of us want to get battered or injured. That’s why our fight club plays itself out through Street Fighter for the PS3. Sure beating my friends and friends of friends at a video game is satisfying, but it’s not the same thrill as pounding a man’s face into a crimson mess with my bare hands. Still, this is the best catharsis I can expect to have now that I have mouths to feed and a mortgage bleeding me monthly. The safer arena we use is unfortunate because the friend that Bill brought last time to fight club had a face that you just want to pound.
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