Chapter 340

Woke up at 6:30 and started my day. On my way to work, I listened to a Jocko Willink podcast, he was discussing with yet another US serviceman who got blown up in Iraq. I have a certain admiration for the courage of these men and their sense of purpose, but also feel angry at the big wigs who decide to go on these very avoidable wars and sacrifice all this cannon fodder.

I had classes in the morning and can barely remember a thing about them. Maybe I’m becoming demented like Joe Biden (end of quote). I went home for lunch, ate leftovers and watched some UFC fights from the weekend. They were excellent, and apparently the co-main and main events were even better. I was looking forward to watch them later at night.

One student from a twelfth-grade class slept in my face and I kicked him out. Not being able to maintain consciousness is such a failure at life, back in the day you’d get gored by a sabre-tooth tiger or a rival Homo Sapiens for that. Other than that, the class went okay, as far as teaching low-energy teenagers go.

At 5, I went to the school gym for the badminton tournament. My grade-12 partner and I won our match 15-8, advancing in the bracket. Then I went home, dropped my things, and went to the gym to train BJJ. The three of us did some nogi things I learned Saturday, a good time was had by all.

I went back home, and was greeted by the tantalizing smell of ribs in the oven. After I showered and plopped on the couch like a walrus, the girlfriend brought me a plate with a mountain of meat and fries, and I devoured it all while watching the remainder of the UFC main card. Kyrgyz technical striker Rafael Fiziev kept climbing the ranks of the lightweight division, knocking out his opponent with a sweet spinning kick in the third round, and then José Aldo showed he still has it, completely dispatching fellow 135-pound contender Rob Font. If he fights TJ Dillashaw next, I’ll be a very happy panda.