The other day, I was making fun of someone on the mats. “We’re going to have to start putting a nipple on your drinks,” I said to the person who’s been having trouble lately keeping up with the heavier drinkers in the group. “As long as we put a nipple on your gi,” said the selfsame fellow who can decidedly beat me each and every time, from each and every conceivable position, arrangement, scramble, struggle, and fight.
Listening to me try to insult someone is like watching a grown man dunk on a Nerf basketball hoop. Damn it.