My Ass Wins Again

I am so sick and goddamn tired of the limitations set on me by my own body.

So what if I want to breakdance?
Is it really that much to ask that I be able to pivot on my hands and spin like a dreidel* on my head?

(btw, my spellchecker is totally anti-Semitic, because it’s telling me that “dreidel”* isn’t a word. Interestingly enough, it totally recognizes “KKK,” but only when I type it with capital letters. Proper noun, indeed, you Jew-hating Nazi bastard piece of technology!)

But where was I?
Oh yes, spinning like a dreidel*.

I’m aware that breakdancing takes a certain amount of practice. Hey, if everybody could breakdance, then it would probably just be called “dancing,” and then instead of dance floors, there would just be flattened cardboard boxes taped together, which at minimum would be a tripping hazard and worst case scenario? Everybody comes back from weddings with black eyes because they took a foot to the grill while trying to get to the dessert table.

Not cool, man.

So okay, I’ll practice.
And by practice, I mean get hopped up on a couple of Naddy Ices, put on my slippery socks, and slide around on my kitchen floor for a while (football helmet not included).

And I can honestly say that after 5 or 10 minutes of practice, I’m no god-damn better at breakdancing than I am ice sculpting, and everybody knows that ice sculpting is child’s play compared to the ancient art of breakdancing, known in the old days as Sho-sæn, or “he who bends himself into a pretzel as the drum beats”

So I’m convinced that even if I practiced for hundreds of thousands of years, I’d be no better at breakdancing because my body just won’t allow it.

Mind over matter, my ass.
Or should I say, ass over matter, and mind?

Whatever.

Moral of the story? My ass wins.

Again.

Other things I’d like to be able to do?
Fly
And maybe punch through a concrete slab, like Mr. Miyagi.

[Did he even do that in the movie? I don’t really know…Actually, I only first saw the movie, like, a couple of years ago. It wasn’t bad. That toothy chick was in it and I always appreciate a good musical montage, but really? Karate? With the headband and everything?!? I guess karate used to be the “in” thing, but now it’s more about recycling and "going green." Oh well, to each his own…]

To be honest, I haven’t practiced either flying OR punching through concrete slabs, but does thinking that practicing is futile in these situations make me a negative person?

Is the glass half empty?
(yes, because it WAS full until you half-emptied it into your gaping pie-hole, you jerk).

Anyway, I don’t really know where I was going with this post other than to say that I can’t breakdance, fly, or punch through concrete and that really kind of pisses me off.

Don’t judge.
You’d be pissed off too if you practiced this shit and all you got was a bloody nose and a bunch of empty Naddy Ice cans.

Word.

*I originally spelled this "dradel" like a dumb-ass mo fo. Mr. Apron corrected me. And guess what? spell checker STILL didn't recognize the word. So there you have it. Proof positive that Spellchecker is an anti-Semitic Nazi bastard. Isn't science fun?