Friday, August 22, 2008

Quash the Rebellion!

By-Tor, and Snow Dog
the land of the overworld
shall be saved again!

We got another Karawte Man, though I have yet to accurately name this guy. We get a new guy in the dojo, and he has the military haircut and the same look in his eye as karawte man, minus the suspenders, John Deere hat and look of incest in his eye.

Like usual, I am tasked with teachifying him, my instructor keeps touting me as the best at helping our young recruits due to my patients and penchant for copping copious feels all the time. Whatevs, son, I head over and start trying to show him the low level stuff, and that's when I realized... this guy was taking everything WAAAAAAAY to seriously. Like I show him a basic block/neck strike combo, and he flies off with this uber loud "HAAAEEIIIIGH!" and comes thisclose to blowing out my fucking carotid artery. Holy shit asshole! I teach him some more stuff, and then ask (as I do everyone) if he had taken a martial art previously. "Well, I took shotokan and blah blah blah" he says proudly. OK, that's fine. This guy needs to be taken down a peg. Time for some Stevester magic!

I start to show him this roundhouse move, which is when someone throws a punch, you deflect it, taking them off balance, and then roundhouse kick thim in the face. I swing my foot fast enough you can hear my pants flutter in the wind, and stop it close enough to see his perfectly coifed feathered hair jiggle just a bit. He looks less than pleased at this turn of events, though he should have seen it coming, me being a 2nd dan and all. I mean come on! This goes for awhile, our punches and kicks getting faster and faster and closer and closer to eachother, until I notice there is quiet on the other side of the room. We stop, sweating profusely, and I notice everyone else is simply standing there watching us. I think I am gonna like this guy, though he is gonna bite a bunch of nut hits with his propensity to blobk with his legs open.

So we leave karate, and being a nice guy I stop by McD's. I make my order, trying to be as polite as possible because I know what happens when you mouth off to those guys, and my order is messed up. No matter, I have yet to get my order correctly from them, so I drive around and get the other half of my order. I get home, I had ordered a salad, and notice a few things: there is no dressing, silverware, or fruit in my fruit and yogurt parfait. Whatevs, I start eating anyway. I should have stopped when I got to the M&Ms that had some of the candy shell sucked off. That almost made me hurl. But I picked them out and kept eating. I now realise why I should have laid off. At about 5 yesterday morning, I almost recreated the bedshitting incident again. I had to call in all day with a violent case of mudbutt. How the fuck do you get food poisoning from salad?

So I have 2 options: option 1 - complain to management, and get even MORE food with jizz and feces wiped on it.

option 2 - and by far the more satisfying - go wait for some smart ass kid to leave and kick his ass, or get Smeagol hired on there to truly ruin him. The options are almost overwhelming...

No comments: