Oh, It's ON. No, Wait ... It's Off Again.
Predator Press
[LOBO]
As I stare up at the roof of the ambulance, I suppose there were a lot of reasons not to except a challenge from Style Swags 8 year old yellow-belted daughter.
First of all, from the locker room to the cage in the center of Madison Square Garden was a really long walk. In retrospect, this was part of her strategy I'm sure: by the time she was gluing the broken glass shards and razorwire to her gloves I was already winded.
I don't really remember much after that ... just a lot of fuzzy images of her staring down at me going, "How do you like me now?" [foot to head] "How do you like me now?" [fist to appendix] and "Quit crying, you sissy!" [appendix to face] ... then there was a whole lot of screaming and begging, mercifully followed by confetti and Hannah Montana songs.
I hate sports.
Comments
Come to think of it, this blog is in part a big, long, mobile list of my own personal bookmarks ... :)
Don't worry skin and bones heal. Your reputation on the other hand...
You fine warrior but much better writer. I look foward to our next mighty battle.
But...for now...I recommend putting on a bag of frozen peas 'cause your face looks like a pizza!"