Be like Jell-o
In a recent discussion among friends, the subject of self defense came up and our ability to handle ourselves in a physical threatening confrontation should it ever arise, came up. Now, I know don’t know about these other pretty bastards, but I was quite accustomed to receiving a five star ass kicking back in high school on a pseudo-regular basis.
One by one, everyone became consumed by the macho bug and were all soon eagerly relating the many miraculous accounts of bravery, as well as the details regarding their sharply honed self defense abilities in the face of pure evil.
Yeah, right! When unthreatened, everybody is Chuck Norris.
This got me thinking about my own “flight or fight” tendencies when faced with adversity. I have the defensive instincts of a bowl of Jell-o.
The “Jell-o Style” of martial arts, if you will.
Where some people square off to meet their aggressor head on and attempt to fight off the imposing threat; others instinctive reaction to turn tail and run as fast as they (hopefully, without a warm stream of fresh urine behind them), mine is to square off to my enemy and prepare myself to absorb the full force of the blow.
My body is not so much a temple as it is an open buffet. No lean, pious alter boy ever survived no back-alley mugging like a fatter, lazy one.
It’s not an elegant martial art, but it has allowed me to endure and survive numerous ass whooping’s in the past that would make Mel Gibson turn away in shock.
I’ve molded the excess fat on my body as a means of absorbing the punishment being doled out on my body by any aggressing party. If the opportunity presents itself – I would also recommend the shedding of tears and sobbing heavily to possibly stave off further beating by invoking a sense of pit in the attacking forces. Eventually, as your body begins to swell red and your bones begin to set, they will just grow tired and leave you alone to heal in a pool of your tears.
It’s an honorable form of self-defense – Tai Kwon Don’t. I am a black belt master capable of enduring the heartiest Steven Segal beat down possible.
I may not walk away unscathed, in fact I may require Emergency services and perhaps a helicopter Evac, but eventually when I regain consciousness and have re-learned to form constants and vowels, I’ll show ‘em who’s boss!
One by one, everyone became consumed by the macho bug and were all soon eagerly relating the many miraculous accounts of bravery, as well as the details regarding their sharply honed self defense abilities in the face of pure evil.
Yeah, right! When unthreatened, everybody is Chuck Norris.
This got me thinking about my own “flight or fight” tendencies when faced with adversity. I have the defensive instincts of a bowl of Jell-o.
The “Jell-o Style” of martial arts, if you will.
Where some people square off to meet their aggressor head on and attempt to fight off the imposing threat; others instinctive reaction to turn tail and run as fast as they (hopefully, without a warm stream of fresh urine behind them), mine is to square off to my enemy and prepare myself to absorb the full force of the blow.
My body is not so much a temple as it is an open buffet. No lean, pious alter boy ever survived no back-alley mugging like a fatter, lazy one.
It’s not an elegant martial art, but it has allowed me to endure and survive numerous ass whooping’s in the past that would make Mel Gibson turn away in shock.
I’ve molded the excess fat on my body as a means of absorbing the punishment being doled out on my body by any aggressing party. If the opportunity presents itself – I would also recommend the shedding of tears and sobbing heavily to possibly stave off further beating by invoking a sense of pit in the attacking forces. Eventually, as your body begins to swell red and your bones begin to set, they will just grow tired and leave you alone to heal in a pool of your tears.
It’s an honorable form of self-defense – Tai Kwon Don’t. I am a black belt master capable of enduring the heartiest Steven Segal beat down possible.
I may not walk away unscathed, in fact I may require Emergency services and perhaps a helicopter Evac, but eventually when I regain consciousness and have re-learned to form constants and vowels, I’ll show ‘em who’s boss!
posted by crazytigerrabbitman at
8:32 PM
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