>My personal trainer is a demon from hell sent to destroy me.
I no longer have full use of my arms. I hope she’s happy.
Despite how I may feel about her now, I know in a few months she will be my god-dess, my muse, my salvation.
Little does she know that I’m using her to become a kick-ass buff chick who will whomp up on all o’ y’alls ugly mugs.
I so wanna beat somebody up, just to see if I can. I’ve never been in a fight. Except with Duke, and he usually trudges off in defeat when I put his fuzzy-duck toy away. He prefers to battle with Gee for dominance over the fluffy-duck-toy. Gee usually wins the fluffy-duck-toy, so my boy Duke is just a two-time loser. Poor Duke.
If I were to ever get into a fight, I would, statistically speaking, get into a fight with another chick. Being a chick myself. You don’t see a lot of chicks startin’ sumpin’ with a guy in the parking lot. Bar fights involving two people of the opposite gender don’t seem to be all too common. I’m assuming “chivalry” and “weaker sex” have something to do with this phenomenon.
(I gotta say though…that scene in GI Jane where she bus’ up what’s-his-face was right-on.)
Chick fights don’t seem to involve too much. From what I’ve seen, they usually involve a great deal of hair pulling and jumping about. Fingernails seem to be a popular weapon of choice, though I would be grossly unarmed as I trim my nails if they grow past my fingertips. I would ultimately be forced to bore my knuckles into their eye sockets, or maybe grab their 4-inch spiked-heel off their foot and…I dunno…jam it in their ear or something.
For the most part, chick fights seem to be exercises in futility. A knock-down-panty-brawl is not going to permit a woman to forgive her sister for sleeping with her husband and stealing her ThighMaster. However, what they do have is the entertainment factor. Men seem to like them. I think there’s some chick-on-chick potential at play in their interest in female combat. Whatever floats yer boat, boys.
Now, when I beat someone up, I wanna be all, like, left hooks and clotheslines…no, wait…fuckin’…piledrivers! Choke slams!
Boot to the head.
I am now feeling oddly aggressive.
Would anyone care to come over for tea?
Voulez-voulez-vous 6 days 4 hours 45 minutes
5 thoughts on “>arms = gelatinous muck”
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>aw, HELL no.That’s it, muthafuckahs. It’s word verification time.a plague upon your house, monsieur anonumous. A plague upon your house.
>Tae Kwon Leep can be very deadly. Weild your knowledge responsibly.
>I took Tae Kwon Do most of last winter. It kept me sane amidst the dark. Kicking ass is fun, though I do not think I’ve done it since like the eighth grade. When I was in Ohio, I playfought with my brother. (I’m just one of the boys that way) No asses were kicked, though we roughed each other up pretty good.We were crazy. if my kids acted like we did, I’d have a fit. Full on face punches, kicks to the stomach, kicks to the groin–no such thing as foul play. Until in karate we learned a hit that could take someone down instantly. One day, I told kirk to go ahead and try it on me, even though we’d been told NEVER to do it by our Shihani. He did it, and I do not remember the actual hit, but I remember landing on the floor. We agreed that that one was off limits, and, as mad as we got and as hard as we fought, I’m amazed, but we never did pull it.
>AJ is right. Just ask Ed Gruberman what a boot to the head feels like!