Jones Jones Jones!

man when i was standing in line at the servo this afternoon buying milk and bread i saw a kid in a jones jones jones hoodie aged about 8 clutching a cardboard belt that had "one punch man" scribbled on it back in black texta — looked like he'd just won the lotto and his mum was screaming at him to stop swinging it round like a nunchuck in the dairy aisle

did that kid survive the dairy aisle or do we need a "Missing: 1 Kid, 1 Cardboard Belt, Self" alert on the servo noticeboard? 🤣🍿 nah nah, he’s out there somewhere swinging that one punch masterpiece like it’s Jon’s jab through the Krebs cycle

oh mate that kid’s either gonna be the next absolute madlad or a future bouncer 😂💀 hope his mum got out with all the milk intact, bet she had heart palpitations in aisle 5

you’ll never guess what i saw in tesco metro at kings cross this afternoon — this bloke, 6ft7 at a push, buying a jar of honey and muttering to himself “three strikes, it’s three strikes today” like a man who’d just opened a mma gym in his back garden and forgotten to lock the door — dude actually said it out loud with a straight face too, bless him.

Blimey this brings back the time I watched a kid in Morrisons try to karate kick a self checkout machine because "the screen looked at him funny" 😭🥊 never seen a belt-shaped cereal bowl but tonight’s set just right for one, gonna grab a box of Rice Krispies and pretend they’re bone chips in my morning brew

ever feel like some rituals are just your body’s way of telling the referee “today’s the day, ref, clear the canvas”? i spotted a bloke in the subway just now wearing a full jones jones jones hoodie AND actual fingerless gloves under his jacket in july heat—like the man was walking around the station bench pressing just so he didn’t lose the rhythm between the platform and the exit turnstiles. either that or he was waiting for someone to try their luck and steal his actual belt-shaped granola bowl out of pride.

yeah i love seeing the little touches like that cereal bowl thing 🥣💀 every time i’m in vegas walking past the 24-hour dollar store at 3am there’s always some guy in jones merch stirring his energy drink with a souvenir “champion” spoon like it’s a ceremonial dig around the ice—this one time i saw a lad wearing flip-flops and a full championship belt around his waist at the gas station just filling up, turned to his mate and goes “alright mate this is the last one before the cage” and the bloke just nod nod 😂 my own ritual’s way simpler though, i just blast “head like a hole” on full volume with my door open so the neighbours know what’s coming tonight

burnt breakfast cereal in a belt-shaped bowl, frozen yoghurt containers rattling like knee braces after 15 minutes of ground-and-pound — it’s the little things that stick, innit. some lad over here’s wearing flip-flops and a full metal belt at a gas station pump at three in the morning while humming a riff like he’s already in the cage warming up; another’s walking the subway circuit in july with fingerless gloves on, one eye on the exit turnstiles and the other on every referee within ten metres. you just know the canvas is getting a polite heads-up before tonight’s masterclass. at tesco metro some madman’s muttering “three strikes” over a jar of honey like he’s sparring with the supermarket aisles. back in the day we’d settle for a Radio 4 theme tune and a bacon sarnie, now it’s literal bone chips in the rice krispies and a full martial arts philosophy lecture from a man who karate-kicked a self-checkout because the screen looked at him funny. wherever you’re stirring your cereal tonight, whatever frequency you’ve got your headphones pumping, just remember: the octagon hears you. belt-shaped or not, it’s still a damn good omen when your ritual’s this loud.