ketchup
02-13-2004, 08:07 PM
.....so after a long hard day of abusing, bullying, and taking advantage of the little guy, I come home. I'm on the phone screaming at my girlfriend when I hear this really loud banging sound in the hall. It's very loud. After I hang up on my girlfriend (that wh*re), I go out into the hall and see this dude wailing with a hammer on a door at the end. I was confused. My brain paused in mid-fire. I was like, " What's going on, dude?"- I'm cool that way. He kind of looked at me, c_ckeyed (him, not me) and said , 'don't worry about it, man, we're just playing a game." I was like, huh? , but he was convincing, the miscreant, so I went back to my place. Meantime, my rodent-like neighbors began to emerge from their nests. Unlike myself, they had neither the precognizance nor the intestinal fortitude to have trained in the chinese martial arts, and it showed. They looked at me in obeisance, awe, and I am pleased to say some fear, looked at the door (which had been pulverized and thoroughly aerated in the top corner by the hammer, and returned to their nests, there to dream of cheese and TV dinners and Rosie and Oprah and twitch their whiskers.
So anyway, after a bit another homeless neighbor came out into the hall and began to interrogate the dude with the hammer. This neighbor, lacking my singular panache and verbal dimmak techniques, threatened to call the police and didn't really buy the dude's line of "we're playing a game. it's OK. Don't worry about it." Then the dude said through the door to the girl that lived there "How can I keep playing this game if all your neighbors keep coming out?" Then he went downstairs and apologized to the neighbor several times if he had scared him. I knocked on the newly ventilated door and the girl tenant came out. She looked at me, not unlustfully, for a moment, as I asked her if that dude was her friend or paramour. She declined (oh, the coquette!) that this was so and told me she had been sleeping until this dude went ballistic on her door and woke her up. She said she had just called the police. She seemed strangely unruffled, however, I think she is French.
So I went back to my apartment and after changing into a fresh clean pair of underwear I posed and looked tough in the mirror until my mom came home.
Ironically, I had seen this dude before practicing in the parking lot outside our building. He was doing a muy thai like thing, over and over, I think it was left jab, right cross, left knee, right knee, over and over, alternating one round of that with one round of looking at his reflection in the window and flexing.
Later I saw my super who said they were waiting for the police and the guy had gone off his meds.
The moral of the story is that this guy, who is an MMAer, snapped and will probably go to an asylum where he will be put into a straitjacket and will be unable to grapple or hardly at all. therefore, once again, it has been conclusively established that TCMA defeats MMA. Exeunt-
apendix A - this story has been edited for clarity, spelling, and to make me look better
appendix B- this story is true
appendix C- if any attractive single women are reading this post, my email is on my profile
appendix D- oh, if anyone here is flush can I borrow 20$ until next week? my email is on my profile
So anyway, after a bit another homeless neighbor came out into the hall and began to interrogate the dude with the hammer. This neighbor, lacking my singular panache and verbal dimmak techniques, threatened to call the police and didn't really buy the dude's line of "we're playing a game. it's OK. Don't worry about it." Then the dude said through the door to the girl that lived there "How can I keep playing this game if all your neighbors keep coming out?" Then he went downstairs and apologized to the neighbor several times if he had scared him. I knocked on the newly ventilated door and the girl tenant came out. She looked at me, not unlustfully, for a moment, as I asked her if that dude was her friend or paramour. She declined (oh, the coquette!) that this was so and told me she had been sleeping until this dude went ballistic on her door and woke her up. She said she had just called the police. She seemed strangely unruffled, however, I think she is French.
So I went back to my apartment and after changing into a fresh clean pair of underwear I posed and looked tough in the mirror until my mom came home.
Ironically, I had seen this dude before practicing in the parking lot outside our building. He was doing a muy thai like thing, over and over, I think it was left jab, right cross, left knee, right knee, over and over, alternating one round of that with one round of looking at his reflection in the window and flexing.
Later I saw my super who said they were waiting for the police and the guy had gone off his meds.
The moral of the story is that this guy, who is an MMAer, snapped and will probably go to an asylum where he will be put into a straitjacket and will be unable to grapple or hardly at all. therefore, once again, it has been conclusively established that TCMA defeats MMA. Exeunt-
apendix A - this story has been edited for clarity, spelling, and to make me look better
appendix B- this story is true
appendix C- if any attractive single women are reading this post, my email is on my profile
appendix D- oh, if anyone here is flush can I borrow 20$ until next week? my email is on my profile