Special Guest Blogger: Muhammad Ali

Calling a black man racist names is frowned upon these days but it wasn't very nice back in my day either but it never stopped white people from doing it which is why i said when i refused to go fight in Vietnam that 'no Viet Cong ever called me a nigger', that abuse came just from my own countrymen.
Such was the racism in America that even blood was kept separate so you had Rednecks with three teeth and their dungarees buttoned up wrong saying things like: 'you can't go mixing up white and black folks blood because you might accidentally make us white folk less intelligent', seriously, that's like don't pee in a swimming pool because it might make it wetter. 
I began boxing after someone stole my bicycle and wanted to find and whup them but despite winning gold at the 1960 Olympics, the racism continued and i joined the Nation of Islam and changed my name from Cassius Clay to Muhammad Ali which annoyed America because real Americans should keep their given name like American heroes such as John Wayne and Kirk Douglas.
As a black Muslim was due to fight for the World Heavyweight Title you can imagine how well that went down in 60's America, like a diet sheet at Donald Trumps house and it only got worse when i whupped Sonny Liston who i said was too ugly to be world champion, and he was, the man was one fugly mofo.
As America had got involved in Vietnam, it had to recruit it's youth to fill the tens of thousands of coffins and American flags that they had ordered but i said i wouldn't go when i was called up saying 'I ain't go no quarrel with them Viet Cong' which cost me my crown but kept me alive unlike the 60,000 young men who made the trip one way. 
I later regained my title by beating George Foreman in Zaire using the tactic of letting my opponent keep hitting me, a technique that Tyson Fury seems to have mastered.
I never did get my bike back which was the whole reason i started but i would like to think that as i held the Heavyweight Belt above my head there was someone in Louisville, Kentucky looking at the rusting old bicycle they stole from my garden and thinking 'Oh Crap'.