Things to ponder while sitting in a dojo, surrounded by feet

Is this karate? Or mixed martial arts? What’s the difference? I should ask someone.

We’ve been here almost a year. I feel stupid asking now. Like I haven’t been paying attention or something.

Why does it always have to smell like armpit in here? Big, sweaty, Chewbacca hairy armpit. UGH.

Dojo. Dojo. Dojo. Dojoooooooooooo. Dooooooooooooojo. Dojo. Dojo. Such a cool word.

UGH. There have to be a zillion toes in here right now. It’s like Armageddon. With really short armies.

What the hell should I make for dinner?

OH MY GOD, FEET EVERYWHERE.

Did I shave today? Why can’t I ever remember?

Who came up with the word eucalyptus? And discombobulated? Fart? Noodle? Carbunkle? Goiter? Oblong?

I want to sit around, inventing words. Like … forkeyed. It will mean worthy of stabbing yourself in the eye with a fork. As in, Stop pooping behind the couch, Oliver. You are so damn forkeyed.

Wow. He is good looking. H.O.T. Wonder how old he is? He’s an instructor, he’s in college, he’s got to be … what? At least twenty? Twenty-two?

Shut up, Andy. That is fifty kinds of wrong.

He’s legal! I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers.

Could you possibly sound any more like an idiot? SHUT UP.

My God, what is up with me? I never think like this. I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d say I was … no. I can’t be. Horny? Is it possible?

OH MY GOD, NATE, YOU JUST WON THE LOTTERY.

*burp*

Figures. Gas. Of course it is. I knew it. God forbid I should be horny.

Totally forkeyed.

Pierogies. Quick and easy and I bet we have some in the freezer.

I’m thinking I didn’t shave. I bet I could braid my leg hair if I concentrated enough.

I wonder if hair has feelings.

Ummm, hello? Did that kid actually hit my kid in the head? I think he … holy shit, he did. What the hell? Should I say something? Should I let it go? What should I do? Maybe I should … ooooooooh, I love her boots!

Wonder where she got them? Wonder if I should ask. Wonder if she’s nice. She seems normal.

Hey, what if she’s his mother?

Do they look alike? I can’t tell. Wait. Yep. Yep. She’s got his nose. Or he’s got hers. It’s pointy.

BITCH.

Bitch with awesome boots.

Yeah, you better watch it, kid. I’m watching you. I’M WATCHING YOU. You and your bitchy mother. Giving you both the stink eye.

That is such a stupid term. Stink eye. Like “hairy eyeball.” What does that even mean? Who comes up with this stuff?

Yep, still watching you. Worried? Hit my girl again and I’m going to nail your skinny little ass to the wall.

Way to go, Andy. He’s all of … what? Eight? Nine? You can take him.

SHUT UP, ANDY.

Dojo, dojo, dojo, dojo, dojo …. mojo, mojo, mojo, mojo … I lost my mojo in the dojo … where did it goooooo … I don’t knowwwwww … can’t think of anything else that rhymes with dojooooooooooooo so this song is … so so.

I should weigh in tomorrow.

I should run tomorrow.

I should do laundry tomorrow.

I should shave tomorrow.

Ugh. It smells like feet in here.

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