Fight Night

Intro: This another bit I used to talk about in my open-mic sessions.

I’ve been thinking about my parents a lot lately, they’re not dead or anything, I’ve just been thinking about them. If I had to fight one of my parents, I’d rather fight my dad. Now, let me be clear, I’m not refusing to fight my mom because I’d “feel bad” or have to “go easy on her” but I genuinely do not believe I can beat my mother in one-on-one physical combat.

Please don’t confuse my message, my dad is a big strong farmer, but my mother is infinitely more terrifying. My father is such an easy going man, if one were to get in a fight with him, it would be their fault because he’s such a sweetheart, in order to get him angry enough to fight you, you really fucked up. Whereas my mother is almost always ready to throw hands, she rolls out of bed and is ready to kick ass. If my parents were dogs, my father would be a Newfoundland, and my mother would be a Pug.

My mother is 5 feet tall and weighs maybe 90 pounds if she swam laps in an Olympic pool while wearing a suit of medieval armor, but she grew up in Chicago and used to beat kids with the rubber from old bike tires. She still scares me to this day and I’m a very large man. My mother once pushed me against the wall in our hallway, slapped me in the face, and told me to “stop being an asshole,” and I was never mean to her again.

My point is, respect your fucking parents and don’t be an asshole.

ALSO: I finally joined the 21st century and joined Twitter so check me out on there and please look up our founder on Instagram as well.


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