So this fella asks: would you date an MMA fighter? I pffft’d and spouted off the old nugget: I ain’t marryin’ no woman can kick my ass, and we chuckled real quick.
A moment later I excitedly said – YES please!. OMFG the equality! I mean – she has me at a disadvantage. Game. On. I would fight her every chance I got, fucking Tito when she came home…ducking blows, feigning let…POW! Good one, love!
It would be fight club at our house. No anger, no malice, nothing like that – we’re probably in love, you know? But how – just so amazing – would it be to be able to go toe to toe with your love and nobody gets hurt or crazy. Well, she might throw me into next week, but I’m not gonna cry about it. I know I can come at her with my best and she can just be confident and at ease and dance around the house with me one time.
Kicking. My. Ass.
We can clean the blood splattering off the walls together and snicker when the other drinks something salty.
Heh. I got you good that time.
One time I worked machines at a big place in machinery-town, USA. It was fun. The fellas were all great and it was summer time and I was 19/20. Had a GT Mustang, fox body. 5-speed. So, we’re at work and we’re dicking around for a few minutes and the arm wrestling starts. The 4 or 5 of us in our immediate area were going at it, good fun. I go one time, take a fella down. Forgot-his-name looks over at me and says, OK, BK, let’s go. I say, naw, man, I want that guy, and I point to the giant on the sand blaster over there…Forgot-his-name asks, wtf? I say – there’s a good chance I’m taking you down, you gnarly bastid, but that monster over there; I”m gonna move that fucker’s arm. Forgot-his-name didn’t like it, but he knew what was up. He gave a fuck-you smile and I walked over to the monster and he refused to tangle with me for the same reason I told forgot-his-name no.
Lol. Life is sweet.