I'm still feeling sorry for you, about how you missed that terrific true story about my heroism and saintliness. Man you're dumb. In one of the scenes I ride in on a golden Arabian charger and rescue a little girl and a puppy. It was so awesome. But you missed it, because I posted it and then took it down because it was too exciting for normal people to be able to handle. And in another scene I dive a thousand feet to the ocean floor and gather up an unrolled roll of secret film tangled in the sinuous testicles of a giant squid about aliens that will change history and mankind's understanding of himself and his place in the universe. Sweet. And I tell it with such power and poise, like an epic poem from the Ancient Classics only in modern and very accessible language, but lofty, it would make you thrill and weep, your heart would leap in your bosom, and you'd finally come to understand a little bit about my noble character and what a total hero and man I am. And I finally reveal the true nature of evil, and how I and I alone have combated against its invidious effects in our age, but I was overcome in my human frailty but nothing could daunt my mighty spirit, I just had to retreat as even great warriors sometimes must to recover from the unbearable treachery of the cowardly stab in my broad muscular back metaphorically speaking but literal too, the muscular part, not the stab, because I wasn't actually stabbed with a knife, but the psychological effect was even more devastating and would have annihilated a lesser man but nothing can ultimately turn me away from the path of righteous victory. And that's what you missed, because you were too busy eating empty carbs and masturbating to facebook pictures of your high school crush that you were too much of a wimp to even talk to.
So now that's settled.
It occurred to me that I'd like to see the Super Bowl game, see what the fuss is about, but as my son pointed out, it's a social event, a party thing, and I'm not the sort who invites invitations. My son observed wryly that he didn't even know the names of the teams. I no longer remember the names of the positions. This was last year. Since then, he's decided that there is merit in the sociability of it all, and I have to agree. My boy is wise. Some years ago he noticed that I had saved the old bunk beds he'd had as a kid. He asked why I was keeping them, and I said maybe I'll want to use one. He smiled and gently observed, "Well, that's not really very adult." And I had to pause and realize the truth in the statement. "You're right, it isn't." I don't seem to be wired quite right. The other day someone was observing that bjj schools attract some very odd characters. I wasn't quite privy to the details of the particular story, just caught some tidbits about an odd man out. But I did peripherally catch that someone nodded in my direction in agreement, about odd characters. It was a benevolent observation, nothing malign. Well, yes, I'm odd. But is it that obvious? I mean I flay myself to the bone, here, so you may have cause to think I'm strange. But publicly don't I fake it at least passably? No.
Now I've decided the hip is not a pinched nerve. It's too muscular for that -- if I tighten my phenomenal abs it gets activated. But the back issue has been very good for a couple of days now, and that's pleasing. I've never had any concerns about my health before. Unsettling.