Bullfights

I love baseball. I love basketball. I will even sit through golf. I figured I would broaden my horizons and take in a Spanish bullfight. After all, it is one of the Spaniards’ favorite pasttimes, so I figured I would immerse myself in their culture. I was even so lucky to attend a bull fight with 3 of the most famous matadors in Spain… and it was on horseback, and you know what?

I fucking hated it. It was probably one of the most upsetting things I’ve witnessed. Each sword in the bull made me cringe a little more. For anyone reading this thinking, ‘Man, he’s a pussy,’ (1) fuck you very much and (2) you try watching this dehydrated, starved animal being toyed with and slaughtered and tell me how you feel.

The craziest part of it all… the Spanish cheer, they eat, they laugh, they drink, the guy next to me even farted a couple times (I think I caught him enjoying his own scent, too.) They love it. Props to them. For me, it was the first and last time I’ll ever be in attendance. It’s just not my bag.