(no subject)
It's hot in my apartment. It isn't yet miserable, but it's hovering on the precipice. The reason it's hot is because some douchebag keeps freezing the air conditioner. You see, the AC in Pegasus Landing was probably bought on the cheap and made by little kids in a sweat shop who don't get bathroom breaks. Moral dilemmas aside, that fact is reflected in the quality of its operation. If you set it below "70," it freezes into a solid block of ice, freon, and mold, and it won't condition shit until it thaws out. The RAs explicitly told every one this in no uncertain terms at the beginning of our lease. I wouldn't mind if it had only happened once. Twice would have bothered me. This is the fifth or sixth time. How much of a dumbass do you have to be to do it more than once? Are you motherfucking sasquatch? Dr. Fucking Muñoz?
I was bareknuckle sparring with some kid today (Scott and John would know him as "tension boy" from MMA.) He had an old cut on his arm that opened up in some exchange or another and I didn't notice until he had basically donated a pint of blood to my shorts. Apparently, it was pretty deep. He washed up, slapped a bandage on it and came back for more. Lo and behold, the bandage did nothing and I really hope he doesn't have any blood-borne illnesses. I washed off what I could in the bathroom and scrubbed the crap out of myself in the shower when I got home.
Around the same time I met a kid that does American kenpo karate, the martial art I was raised on. He apparently teaches around here (he's a brown belt), but I didn't much care for his technique, which was rushed and sloppy in my appraisal. Perhaps sensing my disdain, he mentioned that my kicks were "crisp" and that I emphasized the chamber and so forth, but his instructor told him to just be fast and not worry too much about technique and wear your opponent out. Hearing that made me a little nauseous. The guy apparently trains a lot, and given his description his training buddy is a tough goju guy that used to wrestle, so I may train with him a bit and see if it's just snobbery on my part. Lord knows I'm no master of anything, and first impressions, powerful though they may be, can be deceptive.
I'm starting to fade back into my old procrastinating, slothful self with so much extra free time, so I hope the constraints on my time coming in over the next few weeks so whip me back into shape. I'll try not to give you blow-by-blows of my days in Moe's.
MMA club is gathering at Jacques' house to watch Ortiz vs. Shamrock pretty soon, and even though I'm more a fan of technical fights than brawls and barbarism, it should be pretty good.
I was bareknuckle sparring with some kid today (Scott and John would know him as "tension boy" from MMA.) He had an old cut on his arm that opened up in some exchange or another and I didn't notice until he had basically donated a pint of blood to my shorts. Apparently, it was pretty deep. He washed up, slapped a bandage on it and came back for more. Lo and behold, the bandage did nothing and I really hope he doesn't have any blood-borne illnesses. I washed off what I could in the bathroom and scrubbed the crap out of myself in the shower when I got home.
Around the same time I met a kid that does American kenpo karate, the martial art I was raised on. He apparently teaches around here (he's a brown belt), but I didn't much care for his technique, which was rushed and sloppy in my appraisal. Perhaps sensing my disdain, he mentioned that my kicks were "crisp" and that I emphasized the chamber and so forth, but his instructor told him to just be fast and not worry too much about technique and wear your opponent out. Hearing that made me a little nauseous. The guy apparently trains a lot, and given his description his training buddy is a tough goju guy that used to wrestle, so I may train with him a bit and see if it's just snobbery on my part. Lord knows I'm no master of anything, and first impressions, powerful though they may be, can be deceptive.
I'm starting to fade back into my old procrastinating, slothful self with so much extra free time, so I hope the constraints on my time coming in over the next few weeks so whip me back into shape. I'll try not to give you blow-by-blows of my days in Moe's.
MMA club is gathering at Jacques' house to watch Ortiz vs. Shamrock pretty soon, and even though I'm more a fan of technical fights than brawls and barbarism, it should be pretty good.