Grapple Snapple Pop

Aaaannd so I bailed on the AI concert, instead generously subjecting  my sister in law to my ticket. With good reason, though! With my fucked up back, and I do mean truly it was not right at all, I missed three days of training this week, which is so unacceptable at this point. So instead of engaging in leisure (the AI concert--maybe not totally leisure but a non-sport pursuit, at least) I engaged in two hours of grappling, culminating in a tag-team match of four people. Three of the four were men (hint: not me). Good times for me, right? Except that only one of them seemed to be aware of the 70 lb weight difference between us, in addition to the testosterone-fueled strength differential, and was able to apply that knowledge to a fair reduction in force and ass kicking. The other two were not quite so facile with their jiu jitsu physics. Which means that the tossing around of me was fairly uninhibited. 

And, there was some farting. I knew that by being around guys who are being all tossy-aroundy in a mostly guy environment I would probably be subjected to some farts. And for the record, I do not oppose farting. But still. The farting. To be fair, the guy who was farting was not show-off farting but accidentally farting in fairly fart-inducing positions, and also had to tape his cup to himself because he forgot his jock strap at home. So I think it is possible that all of the nut/taint tape may have distracted him a bit from holding farts in.