Joe Rogan on Whitey Bulger's Death

Like he was in a maximum security penitentiary. It's like they're never getting out of there. Every day you're just dealing with horrible people in terrible circumstances and they know that you get to leave. They know you get to leave. But you're living with them most of the day. He goes, yeah, I'm not a prisoner. He goes, but my environment is surrounded by these people. He's like, that affects you. It's like I never thought about it that way. I always thought the guards have it OK. It's just a job. Whereas the inmates, well those poor bastards are stuck in there. Well, you're in there with them for eight hours a day. Most of the time you're not controlling them. Most of the time you're just coexisting. Yeah. Oh my god. Who's behind the bars? Which way is behind, right? Right. They're in a cell with a hallway filled with bars. People, one person on the other side of each bar, so are they. Same exact thing. Yeah. And then they're wearing body armor and fucking they have clubs and they're always terrified that a riot's going to break out. You saw Whitey Baljour got killed. He did? Yeah. When? Yesterday in prison. They transferred him in like first day. First day. Cool, that story. A guy that hates rats killed him. An Italian guy or like a gangster guy. Really? Yep. I read the guy is obsessed with hating rats and hating people that beat women. And I guess Whitey killed women. Wow. This guy, the first chance he got. Whitey Baljour met a violent end after a lifetime of brutality. They tried to pull his eyes out of his skull. Whoa. I don't know if they were successful or not. The thing I read didn't make it clear. Hold on, make that larger so I could read that? It doesn't really say much about it. What does it say? In a three foot grave near a river not far from Boston, Pat McGonagall's body laid decaying, undisturbed, until his remains were found 20 years later. Part of his pelvic bone, a fractured skull, a decomposed brain matter. OK, this is all the different things that he's done. Yeah, no, he was a horrible fucking killer. West Virginia day after he transferred. You know, I used to train a guy that was one of his fucking mob henchmen. Guy said to me once, he goes, you're going to kill somebody. How would you kill him? I was like, with my bare hands? He goes, yeah, I go, I probably hit him in the neck. I was like, yeah. I was like, OK. That was the end. See, it's not scary until you find out that's the end of the conversation. I was 19 at the time. I was teaching Ty Gwendoe. I was teaching this guy who he was friends with a friend of mine who absolutely worked for Whitey Bulger, who wound up going to jail. And they told me that this guy used to whack people. I was like, oh, Jesus Christ. And I was teaching him Ty Gwendoe. He was very serious. Like, he was very intense. I was very aware that there was something different about him. I was very aware, like, he wasn't just a guy that was learning for exercise or self-defense, want to take a little classes, learn a little martial arts. He was going to use it. Like, he was a guy that was in case he needed to use it. You know what I'm saying? Like, there's a mindset of someone who just wants to get better at a martial art, and there's a mindset of someone who's thinking about, OK, it's going to come down. I'm going to fucking get him right there. OK, and I'm going to get him right there. That guy was like when he would practice. There was a certain amount of focus and intensity that he had that was palpable. Yeah. Mobsters need to get better at that type of stuff. You ever see, remember De Niro's kicks and good fellas, those just sloppy, that straight down, just mutt. What's this? Whitey Bulger's fader. Suspect that did it. Yeah. He was unrecognizable. Here's the quote of a bam. Mr. Bulger's eyes appeared to have been dislodged from his head, although it was unclear whether his attackers gouged him out or they were knocked out because he was beaten so severely in the attack. This information was relayed by a senior law enforcement official who oversees organized crime cases. That's what it was. It was a padlock stuffed inside a sock. Oh, that's what they beat him with? Yep. And they also pulled his eyes out of his head. At least in part with a padlock that was stuffed inside of a sock. At least two inmates were quickly sent to solitary confinement after Mr. Bulger was found, according to three employees of the Federal Bureau of Prisons. Wow. Damn. Yeah. Well, couldn't happen to a nicer guy. Whitey Bulger. Do you know he won the lottery twice? Really? Yep. Damn. Not really. Yeah. Scam. I mean, that was how he would show his income. So someone else would win the lottery, and they would come to him. And he would give them the money, and they would give him the lottery ticket, and he'd be like, look, I won the lottery. That's how I'm rich. Oh. Yeah. Yeah, it's dark. They probably would find the person who won the lottery. So they chased Dana White out of town. Do you know that? No. Yeah. Yeah, they wanted money. They wanted payment from Dana White. And Dana White got beaten up by them so severely that he had like tinnitus in his ears. Fuck. Yeah. He had a fucking jet out of town. He moved to Vegas. Wow. Yeah. Because they wanted a cut of the UFC. No, it wasn't the UFC. There was no UFC back then. He was like a boxing trainer. Oh. I forget what he was doing, whether he's running a gym. But he had to leave town because of the mob. That's why he left Boston. Yeah, it was real, man. I mean, this was all when I was a kid. I mean, I got seriously into Taekwondo in 1982. That's when it became like 81, 82. That's when it really became like my whole life. And that's right around the time where all that shit was going on. And then in 1988, I became friends with a comedian who was his brother went to jail for being a part of Whitey Bolder's mob. Yeah. Crazy. Yeah, it was like everybody knew somebody who was in some way connected to the mob in some way. I just one dude. You want to hear a crazy story? Whew. There's one guy. He's dead now. I could talk about him. His name is Richie. And he went to jail while I knew him. He was arrested for a murder that I don't think they ever got him on. But this person who was killed wasn't just killed. They broke every bone in his body with a hammer and kept injecting him with cocaine to keep him awake. Ugh. Yeah. So he would black out from the pain. And they would inject him with cocaine to wake him back up again. And then they would break another bone. They would break all of his bones with a hammer. They cut his hands off, cut his head off. They cut everything off. And then when they found this broken heap of a body, he was somehow connected to this guy that I knew who sold coke. And this guy had gone to jail. And I knew him before he went to jail. He was another guy from Taekwondo. I knew him before he went to jail. He was one person. He was a young guy. I think when he went to jail, I was 16. And I think he was 20. And then when he got out of jail, I was 20. And he was 24. And he had scars all over his body where he tried to sand off his tattoos. He had tattoos all over his arms. And I don't know what the tattoos were, whether they were racist or whether he just didn't want them anymore. But he had either acid burns or scars. How ever the fuck he tried to get the tattoos off all over his arms. Arms were covered in scars. And he wasn't good. He wasn't a talented martial artist. But he was insanely tough, insanely aggressive and insanely tough. And when you sparred him, you were fighting for your life. For your life. He would come at me and try to fucking kill me. I mean fucking kill you. Throwing looping punches with every fucking ounce of his being. And I'm moving around. And I'm like, oh, we're fighting to the death here. We're fighting. This is not sparring. We only sparred a couple of times before this. But one time, he had me cornered. He trapped me in a corner and hit me with a fucking bomb on the top of my head. Just boom, like as hard as he could punch. He was a strong guy. He was quite a bit bigger than me, too. Irish guy? I think he was Italian. And I kicked him in the head so hard it broke his cheek. Like his cheek shifted over. His face, I wheel kicked him. So I hit him with my heel in his face. And he dropped down. He collapsed. Went down to his face first. Got up on his all fours. Got back up again, wanted to keep going. I said, I go, Richie. I go, you got to look in the mirror. I go, come look in the mirror. And he's like, oh, fuck. I go, yeah, you can't spar anymore, dude. He wanted to kill me. He wanted to keep going. He wanted to keep going. After I basically kicked his face in half. Jesus. I hit him so hard. It wasn't a sparring session. I'm trying to kill you. You're trying to kill me session. And I remember setting him up, setting him up, setting him up, boom. And I hit him with that thing. And he face planted. Most people would have just went out. But he was so angry and so mean. He was trying to get up. It's fucking scary. But that was the last time I sparred with him. I'm like, we're not sparring anymore, dude. I'm not fighting to death with some guy who I'm kind of friendly with. I was friendly with him other than that. Like, you would never guess. I remember one time we went out. It was me and him and these two girls. And they were like real weird, right? And this one girl was like, Richie, when are we going to get that stuff? I go, what stuff are you going to get? And she's like, he's going to get us some coke. I go, you don't want any coke. She goes, fuck you. She's just like, I was trying to tell her she doesn't want coke. She's like, that's why I'm here. That's why I'm hanging out with this guy, stupid. That's so funny. Yeah, it was one of the rare times I hung out with him outside of the gym. He told me a story about how he had to fight off these guys with a broomstick in jail. And how he's beaten these guys to death with a broomstick. There's a horrible story about him being forced to mop up something in the bathroom. And these guys cornered him. And he's just fucking attacking them with this broomstick. And about how he got extra time for that. I forget what he went to jail for. I assume it was probably drug related. I don't remember what it was. But I remember just being so nervous about being connected to people like that. Knowing people like that from the gym. Because there was people like that, they always wanted to learn how to fight. Because you knew you're teaching martial arts, you're training. Those guys would always come in. Whenever it was time to spar. Scary times. There was no pulling back. If you were sparring with some friends, like I was sparring with my friend Leroy Rodriguez, a good friend of mine who was the fastest lightning, this Puerto Rican guy was a bad motherfucker. But he would not hurt me. We would spar. We would go hard. But he would hold back from hurting you. You could trust certain people. When you were sparring, you knew there was just sparring. There was other people. It was to the death. Terrible. Crazy. Not only that, we did it over a fucking thin office carpet on top of concrete. It was just office carpet on top of concrete. So when people would fall, their head would bounce off the concrete. Ah, fuck that. Yeah. It was horrible. Good lord. That's the 80s, bro. She was different. She was the least. No good, man. So terrible. So terrible back then, man.