Archive for January, 2009

So apparently, saying ‘douche’ while striking an opponent is unacceptable.

It’s not that I’m thinking about feminine products when I’m sparring it’s just the yell that happens to come out of my mouth.  I suppose in a real live fight or attack, ‘douche’ would be appropriate because if a guy is trying to punch you or steal your wallet he is probably a douchebag and should be called as such. In the confines of class, after exhaustion and delirium have set in, my ‘kia’ (karate yell, not the car) often turns into something you would read in a Batman Comic rather than something you’d hear in a dojo.

All of this was brought to my attention last night during the grueling 4-hour workout I like to call “A Normal Tuesday Night”. 3.5 hours into the night my legs are noodles, my clothes are soaked through and my muscles throb. There is a video camera pointed at me as I fight through the exhaustion to demonstrate and teach various Krav techniques without showing any signs of fatigue.

“Choke from the front, no push” I say into the camera. My opponent comes at me and squeezes my tender neck in his sweaty meat hooks. With the air being cut off to my brain I explode with a pluck and a simultaneous kick to the groin doubling him over. As my elbows, knees and punches freely flow to his face, liver and head so do my ‘kreative kias’ flow from my mouth.


I turn back to the camera and explain the different teaching points as if I were instructing a whole class. At the conclusion of my explanation the instructor turns off the camera and says,

“Wow, that was really good energy, good teaching points but your Kias are…………weird

Puzzled, I glanced over at the other trainees who were all trying to hide their smiles and smirks.

“Whaaa??” Was my intelligent response.

“You sound like you’re inside a Marvel Comic. If you can just use normal loud yells that would be better.”

“oh….I see” I said, not realizing I sounded so weird.

One of the other trainings spoke up and said “Does this mean he’s not going to do them anymore? Because I smile every time he does.”

The teacher remained firm so I guess the douche stops here.

Any suggestions as to what I should yell when I’m bashing someone’s face in?


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Phil will not let me Testify

I don’t know why he won’t. He says to me ‘come over and we will have fun!’ so I do. But everytime I do he squelches my fun. He recently moved back into his condo, set up his 100″ projected TV screen, hooked up his xbox and said “let’s play rockband”. On a cold Wednesday night I headed out with the boys and descended upon Phil’s tiny condo. When we arrived we learned of the new rules set out by Phil and his cat Archie.

Rule #1
No having fun

Rule #2
We play 2 or 3 songs on each instrument before switching

Rule #3
Everyone sings. Yes that includes you. He doesn’t care if you can’t sing, you sing.

Rule #4 (this is the new one)
No singing ‘Testify’ by Rage Against the Machine.

I am writing this post to say I would like Rule #4 abolished. All week long I wear a suit and sit at my desk at work while I am quietly raging against the machine. So you can imagine my disappointment when I don’t get the chance to pump my fist, move my hips and march around to Tom Morelo’s (guitar player for RATM) tasty grooves during a rockband night at Phil’s. This simply has to stop. First RATM and then what’s next? El Scorcho by Weezer? There have been talks of banning that song as well and to that I say ‘Goshdarn you half-Japanese Phils’ (edited for my sister’s eyes).

This guy right here needs to Testify, it doesn’t matter if I sing that song every time I play rockband. I should be allowed. I will also say I am the guy that tries all the songs that are way out of my range so Phil can play harder drums, for that I want to Testify. It’s only fair. At least I am not like Dave who was raised on oatmeal and soundtracks and amazingly knows only 2 or 3 of the 230 songs one can choose from in the game. Nothing slows down a night of rockband like Dave stepping up to sing.

Anyways if you would like to get a chance to Testify, your opportunity is fast approaching. NEXT Saturday (31st) Phil is having a rockband party at his condo on his 100″ screen. There will be horrible singing, people looking like retards on the drums and in general a happy good time. Stop by, drink a beer and sing a few songs with us, who knows we might even get to Testify.

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Alright, alright. I get it, I have big nipples.

Well not so much big as ‘pointy’, it’s not like they’re pink puffy pancake nipples or anything like that. In many ways I believe they are about average as men’s nipples go, the problem is they respond very well to cold temperatures and touching. I usually don’t have too many people touching them except Tony, but he lives in Molalla so my nipples have received a welcome break. But as some may have noticed the weather has been a bit on the chilly side lately and my dueling thermometers seem to make an appearance every time I take my coat off.

I got to kickboxing tonight and the building was freezing. The heat had been off all day and to make matters worse I had left my workout bag in my trunk so I quickly shivered my clothes on and off in the dressing room before class. I looked down and my legs were doing that weird blotchy-red-cob-webby thing they do when they’re really cold. Anyone know what I’m talking about? My arms and nipples never get like that but when I’m really cold my legs get weird looking and I hate it. So I yelled at them “Stop doing that!” “Stop doing what?” was the response from the next dressing room over. “Oh, um not you, my legs….I was yelling at my legs” I said sheepishly.

I gathered my things and headed upstairs to the gym. Melissa was warming up as I walked over to chat her up. We talked about our days and the meaning of life when I began complaining about the dri-fit shirt I was wearing and how it sticks to my torso showing every bump, blurb and blob.

Melissa:”Oh Please Micah, you have a great body, (looking down) but what’s up with your nipples?!”

Me: “What do you mean? I can’t control them and it’s COLD in here!”

M:”Well I’m just sayin’….dayyuuummmmn.”

Me: “It’s this Dri-Fit shirt! It’s thin and it rubs them, and why does everyone always notice my nipples?”

M: “Everyone notices your nipples? I’m sorry, are you sensitive about it?”

Me: “All my friends seem to notice and some like to grab onto them, I’m not sensitive until everyone starts pointing them out!”


Our conversation was broken by the instructor’s yelling and as I ran I watched my pointy friends bounce in the mirror. ‘They’re not that bad’ I thought to myself as we re-grouped in the center of the room to do some calisthenics. While doing some arm swings and rotations the instructor turned to me and says “Is it cold in here Micah?!” The whole class turns to look at me as if I am some deformed person and I shot a look to Melissa who was covering her snarking laugh with her hand. F’ing great. “I get it, my nipples are very pointy!” I yelled out and the teacher said, “I’m just sayin…..must be cold.”


I’m throwing that dri-fit shirt away. Nipple erections are completely involuntary movements and I can’t calm them down by thinking of brown filing cabinets or taking a cold shower like I do with the other kind. In fact cold showers are the worst remedy when my nips are pointing straight out like two six-shooters in the hands of Billy the Kid. I don’t really know what the draw is to them, they’re not like George Washington’s nipples. As the first president of our country I imagine he has some fairly impressive nipples, not sure what history says, but I imagine them as amazing. I guess I’ll live with them, or maybe I’ll see if they make pasties in the shape of little guitars or muscle cars. That would be awesome until one falls off and then my left nip points out like the tailight of a ‘59 Cadillac and my right side remains as smooth as a spoon. If that happened, the jig would be up and I would definitely look like a deformed person. Too much trouble. I just hope the warm weather returns soon, in the meantime I’m gonna start charging for stares longer than 5 seconds. By the end of the cold season I should have enough for a nipplectomy.

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A little article I wrote for the company newsletter

I know this may come as a shock to you, but there was a time when I was fat. If you’ve ever met me I know you’re probably thinking “Not YOU Micah?! Surely you must be joking?”. No dear reader I am not. Before the chiseled physique that writes this letter now, came a man that resembled a voluptuous pear rather than a Greek Statue. Hours of computer programming, video games, beer and chips had taken their toll on my body adding years and pounds. I knew I needed to change something when playing one-on-one basketball with a friend I never drove to the hoop. I was content sitting behind the 3-point line shooting shot after shot expending the least amount of energy as possible. I didn’t have love handles, I had love railings and they were there for all to grab onto, especially little children as they rode the escalator in the mall.

Like most people I set out to lose the weight and headed to the gym. I was successful in gaining a little bit of muscle, but the fat still clung to me like icing on a Cinnabon. Frustrated, I eventually lost momentum and let my gym membership expire along with my dreams of six pack abs and arms that would make grown men cry. The problem was that even though I was going to the gym consistently I was also consistently eating anything and everything that was placed in front of my face. If it started with a ‘C’ and ended in ‘ake’ I would have 3 slices. If there was cheese involved I would unhinge my jaw and shovel it all in. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why I wasn’t losing any weight, bad food was accidentally falling in my mouth and I was chewing it up. The main issue was that I wasn’t being honest with myself as to how much fattening food I was truly eating.

It wasn’t until a couple years later that I put it all together and figured out the final piece of the pizza pie. When you do workout, workout hard. Going to the gym and doing 2 sets of 10 on the bench press and then flapping your jaw for an hour with your mates isn’t going to cut it. You have to constantly push yourself, nearly everyday. The beauty is that it truly does become easier over time.

When I lost the weight I did it with a lot of help from the Internet. There is a vast amount of information and resources available for losing weight. Many of the services are free which is extremely nice. Everything from calorie counters, BMI Indexes and even free workout routines. It’s refreshing to use your computer for something other than games and spreadsheets (but those are fun too).

There are many sites like this one that help you with counting your caloric intake, this one is simple and easy to use:

This site has a bunch of different tools you can use from figuring out your BMI to finding out how many calories were burned during exercise. No, flipping the channels and eating chips is not considered exercise:

This guy has a simple free 12-week workout program you can utilize. If anything, it will help give you fresh ideas:

The main way I lost most of the weight was through using bodyweight exercises. Basically you don’t use many machines or free weights, instead you use your body weight as the main resistance. It’s a great way to get around the excuses of ‘not having a gym membership’ or ‘no weights at home’…etc. You are usually connected to your body so there’s really no room for excuses. To help me in my endeavor I found this site: and although the guy is an animal and his workouts are a bit ferocious for those just starting out, I found it worked for me. Halfway through his program the pounds started melting off of me like butter on a stack of pancakes.

If your goal is to lighten your load this year, the best thing you can do is stick with it and push yourself. Of course you should consult a doctor before you go and try to run a marathon, but once you’ve been given the green light remember it’s ok to go out and move your body. Try to break a sweat everyday by doing more than raising the pop can to your lips. Use the computer to track your progress and you’ll feel better when you can see how far you’ve come!

Happy New Year to everyone!

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Let’s Play

I had to stop by the pukey poopy house this morning (which has turned into a whole ‘nother saga) and on the way home I decided to swing by my sister’s house to see what was going on. It’s always nice to see the family, plus she usually has some sort of good food to feed me and that makes me eternally happy. Today was no exception, homemade bread and chili with cheese and sour cream, yum yum. I ate and helped her with the computer. I got her a zune gift card for her Zune but I’m ready to start buying her only vinyl albums because it also seems more trouble than it’s worth when it comes to my sister and technology. I was deep into my bowl of chili and her zune problems when my 5 year old niece began tapping my shoulder.

Niece: “Let’s play uncle.”

Me: “In a minute, I’ve got to finish this.”

Niece: “Let’s play now!”

Me: “Just let me finish this!”

She went and found some books to entertain her for all of 2 minutes before she came back over but instead of tapping me on the shoulder she climbed up on my leg and began balancing on her knees in my mid thigh. Not the most comfortable position for me. I was click-clacking away on the keyboard when she leaned over and said,

“Let’s play.”

Me: “Just let me finish!”

She got down and pranced around like little girls do. I finished up and was trying to tell my sister what she needed to do to download music to her Zune but my niece kept tapping my side, trying to grab my attention.

Niece: “Uncle! Uncle! I have to tell you something. Uncle!”

Me: (giving in) “Yes?”

She motioned me down to her level, so I bent down and she cupped her hand to my ear as she whispered “Let’s play.”

I was finally relieved from my duties as ‘Mr. Computer Fix It Guy’ by my sister so I turned to my niece and asked,

Me: “What would you like to play?”

N: “Let’s play school!”

Me: “Naw I just got out of school. Let’s play work!”

N: “I don’t know how to play that.”

Me: “Oh? It’s easy, see you pretend you’re at work and I come in to see you.”

N: “Ok…”

Me: “So, you pretend that you are a Massage Therapist and you have to go to work by rubbing my shoulders. Ok?”

N: “I don’t want to play that.”

Me: “Oh well that’s the only thing I know how to play.”

She suggested that we play doctor and I told her my idea was just like playing doctor. She was the doctor and my shoulders were the patient, but she wasn’t buying it. In the end we played doctor and the only thing I got was a whack to my knee, because apparently in a 5 year old’s mind that’s how you fix sick people.

Good times.

Oh and Happy New Year! This was supposed to be posted yesterday, but You tube was being lame so it’s a day late.

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