I can't remember if it's Goodfellas or Casino, but Matt's description of the gangland style ass-kicking brings to mind the song Layla as all the Goombas are getting whacked off (uhh, not like THAT).
Big props to James for the re-telling of the lost hour. In case you missed it, check out the comments in the previous post.
There's a saying by a wise man who once said, "Stupid people do stupid things." Well, it's not really a saying so much as a lyric from a System of a Down song I listened to today but can't remember the title of. Yeah, that about sums it up.
I didn't really notice it on Sunday as I was still hungover and probably still drunk for half the day, but as it stands, I am REALLY sore. I took A LOT of body shots. I wondered why my pecks were sore; for some reason, I figured that since I did AH push up that night before the bar, that I was just extremely out of shape. But, you know, I did some feeling around, and I'm pretty much sore all over. I'm thinking I was in a pretty good headlock, and I got my ass kicked/fell on it repeatedly. I still want to know why ONE foot was wet from the inside. Seriously, if Kon can pee in his dresser, then I don't see why I wouldn't pee in one shoe and put it back on without anyone else noticing.
I've got some words of advice for anyone involved in any further Steve Duty. Now, there's a point of no return I hit somewhere around 1 or 1:30. I'm assuming I get a glazed over look, or somehow some way I look not all together with my faculties. It's at this point that you should do pretty much the OPPOSITE of whatever I say. In other words, if I say I wanna go somewhere besides the floor to sleep, do whatever you gotta do to get me to that floor. I hereby give anyone involved in Steve Duty free reign to go hog wild. I just ask one thing: don't break my glasses. Other than that, anything goes. I'm gonna go ahead and impliment Ultimate Fighting boundaries here and say no biting or fish-hooks.
You know, it's odd. There really should be a case study done on me when I hit that point. It seems to me that if I don't have a death wish, it's at least a harsh pain wish. Reckless abandon with the running around in traffic and whatnot. Seriously, though, one of these days I'm gonna have a fight on my hands. It's a good thing I'm packing such amazing heat in these guns I carry around.
Oh, would you look at that, my bicep just collapsed in a fit of laughter
Current Mood: Olive Garden's Revenge
Current Music: Elton John - Someone Saved My Life Tonight