—Well, sadly, there can be no dancing today, if that’s what you mean. Seems the little fella went and signed himself up for a Tae Kwon Do class in order to “take care of some business with a certain gekko who, for such a green little bitch, was getting a bit too mouthy.”
Which, in and of itself, isn’t the problem.
Instead, the stumbling block here seems to be that otherwise kindly Asians are no friends to the groin when it comes to teaching one the ancient arts of parry and kick-related self defense—and so for the last three days, the poor little bastard has been turned over on his shell, eating ramen and watching old episodes of “Kung Fu” with an ice-filled sandwich bag draped over his taffied joint.
Sorry. Wado Kai Sensei’s orders.
“When you can snatch the tumbleweed from my hand, then you will be ready, Armadillo.”
Been there, done that.
Except that I don’t have a shell, and it was that little bitch Mary Ellen, not an opponent on the tatami.
TW: it was a start
PS: I saw that gekko on TV, talking smack about some “party”. The ‘Dillo had better get on the ball.
So to speak.
Something fun…
The ‘Impact of Computing’ grows by 78% a year, apparently.
Sure, blame the OTHER for the ‘dillo’s pain.
It’s those iguanas you have to watch out for…
TW: Front… protect your.
He should have tried the local Aikido dojo.
Wait a minute. An armadillo is afraid of an iguana. That’s like a tank running from a taxi cab. Do your parental duty and tell the little wimp to buck it up and learn who he is.
OK gekko, even worse. Who threw an iguana in the mix?
What, no “wax on, wax off?” Some people just let opportunity pass them by.
Send the poor little fellow over to the Torino Curling courts and have a blonde Swede rub his shell a bit, he’ll be gliding smoothly in no time…
Thats OK, the Canadian Mens hockey team couldn’t score either.
So…..anybody here ever been laying in a recliner watching TV, legs apart, and had an older brother hit you, from across the room, square in the left nut with a wire coat hanger?
Agony mixed with nausia is what it is.
Poor little ‘dillo…sorta reminds me of the first and only time I tried swinging nunchucks…even thinking about that night disproves the adage that one has ‘no memory of pain’.
NO MORE WIRE HANGERS!!
The Pope is a slut.
Hmmm.
Upon further consideration, I have realized that wasn’t really relevant at all.
– Well actually on another plane entirely it is Ian…. There are no metrosexual coat hangers in a fox hole…..
TW: That would be the 12th degree belt….. black and blue