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Edited on Thu Mar-30-06 11:14 AM by Wetzelbill
My little brother, 21, brash, cocky, much taller and in great physical condition, was defeated by me, 31, short, chubby, plagued by old sports injuries, in an epic battle of Rock, Scissors, Paper.
We held our battle to see who would get to have the last packet of tea in the cupboard. (anything to avoid saying "teabag") I'm normally a coffee man, however the thought of tea with some rich, buttery shortbread was enough to put me in a fighting mood.
Best two out of three.
He defeated me right off, paper to rock.
So I stepped back, gathered my senses and rallied with a heroic comeback.
Paper to rock, I won. I knew I had him, I was playing Jedi Mind shit on him now, I could see him break and get rattled a little.
Scissor to paper, I won again, and checkmated the whole effing match!
Victory is mine!!!!
So, this is one sad post. I have to brag about winning childhood games to foster my once proud athletic legacy and bolster my still massive ego.
Just last month, we had a shootfighting match. I took him down with a masterful high crotch switched into a double leg. I tried roughing him up a little, but I got winded and he made me tap out to an effing camel clutch. I submitted to a pro wrestling move! My neck hurt for 3 damn days after. He's never stopped teasing me either. But shit, the guy's a cagefighter, he should beat me! I'm old and fragile!
Still, the rock, scissors, paper victory was sweet. Just like these shortbreads that I am currently eating. With tea. Magnificent beautiful tea. :)
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