Sword Fight!
I was chatting with one of my many lessers the other day, as per usual, she[1] was impressed with my massive brain[2], and my delightful knowledge of all things genius.[3] However, at some point a topic came up on which we were forced to agree to disagree.[4] The topic in question: Sword Fighting.
What is sword fighting, one of you may ask.[5] No, not two pansies going blood for blood with 3 foot long razor sharp blades of death…to be honest, that's pretty gay. ‘Enguard! I shall poke you in the heart with my spork’ If this scares you, check your local lost and found, you may be missing your balls.[6]
What I am talking about is two Men, whipping it out, toe to toe, crossing streams, battling where it counts, in the pisser. It’s grizzly…manly…heroic...not weird.
Now before you get the wrong idea, there are rules. Simples rules really, manly rules:
1. You hold your own.
2. No eye contact.
3. YOU HOLD YOUR OWN, important enough to say twice, you will not live down a violation of this rule.
4. Finally, keep the compliments to a minimum.
Other than all that, it’s just two guys peeing. No. Big. Deal.
I am surprised there are people who have not heard of this activity. I imagine most of those are only children, or were raised in ‘houses’ with multiple ‘bathrooms.’ I would love to yank that silver spoon out of their mouths, and pee on it, with my many brothers, at the same time. Take THAT silver spoon. Though, men usually stop sword fighting around 10 years old, due to space, society, discrepancies in ‘sword’ size, etc. There are a few exceptions, such as camping, strolling away from the campfire, dropping trough and discovering you have a little competition the next tree over. Can you hit that raccoon from here? Careful, he’s got rabies. Also, if it’s your freshman year of college, you’ve been drinking whiskey all night, and you find yourself alone in a stall with Tommy Martin, in that situation it is ok to sword fight as well.[7]
I would wager the women giving me fake numbers and pointedly tapping their wedding rings when I bring these topics up, are the same ones quick to complain about their man’s bathroom habits. He pees on the seat, on the floor, occasionally on your mom’s toothbrush when she’s visiting from out of town, yada yada yada. You know what? I pee with 100% accuracy. I hit the seat every time. Perhaps if your man spent a little more time sword fighting, and a little less time trying on your shoes while you were at work, he could pee with my sniper like precision. Apology accepted.
What is really needed here is a census. Acknowledge your heritage. The world must know. Our children must know. You are not ‘eccentric.’ You are not ‘unusual.’ You are not ‘mildly retarded.’ Most importantly, you are not alone. And you need not pee alone any longer. Men, brothers, now is our time, hold your heads high, swing your swords low, the throne is ours for the taking.
What is sword fighting, one of you may ask.[5] No, not two pansies going blood for blood with 3 foot long razor sharp blades of death…to be honest, that's pretty gay. ‘Enguard! I shall poke you in the heart with my spork’ If this scares you, check your local lost and found, you may be missing your balls.[6]
What I am talking about is two Men, whipping it out, toe to toe, crossing streams, battling where it counts, in the pisser. It’s grizzly…manly…heroic...not weird.
Now before you get the wrong idea, there are rules. Simples rules really, manly rules:
1. You hold your own.
2. No eye contact.
3. YOU HOLD YOUR OWN, important enough to say twice, you will not live down a violation of this rule.
4. Finally, keep the compliments to a minimum.
Other than all that, it’s just two guys peeing. No. Big. Deal.
I am surprised there are people who have not heard of this activity. I imagine most of those are only children, or were raised in ‘houses’ with multiple ‘bathrooms.’ I would love to yank that silver spoon out of their mouths, and pee on it, with my many brothers, at the same time. Take THAT silver spoon. Though, men usually stop sword fighting around 10 years old, due to space, society, discrepancies in ‘sword’ size, etc. There are a few exceptions, such as camping, strolling away from the campfire, dropping trough and discovering you have a little competition the next tree over. Can you hit that raccoon from here? Careful, he’s got rabies. Also, if it’s your freshman year of college, you’ve been drinking whiskey all night, and you find yourself alone in a stall with Tommy Martin, in that situation it is ok to sword fight as well.[7]
I would wager the women giving me fake numbers and pointedly tapping their wedding rings when I bring these topics up, are the same ones quick to complain about their man’s bathroom habits. He pees on the seat, on the floor, occasionally on your mom’s toothbrush when she’s visiting from out of town, yada yada yada. You know what? I pee with 100% accuracy. I hit the seat every time. Perhaps if your man spent a little more time sword fighting, and a little less time trying on your shoes while you were at work, he could pee with my sniper like precision. Apology accepted.
What is really needed here is a census. Acknowledge your heritage. The world must know. Our children must know. You are not ‘eccentric.’ You are not ‘unusual.’ You are not ‘mildly retarded.’ Most importantly, you are not alone. And you need not pee alone any longer. Men, brothers, now is our time, hold your heads high, swing your swords low, the throne is ours for the taking.
posted by Joe at 5:53 PM
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