Callin' It Like It Is - WHEN BOXING TURNED INTO BALLET

I thought boxing was the perfect sport for me.

You get to beat the shit outta someone, and if you get your ass kicked, at least it?s by some big scary bastard - not a 100-pound karate elf.

Plus, with those big fluffy gloves?

Looked safer than oven mitts.

Boy, was I a dumbass.

They toss me in the ring with some guy who looked like he?d spent more time in a tutu than a gym.

He?s bouncing, skipping, twirling like he?s late for Swan Lake.

I?m smirking, thinking, ?This pansy?s gonna be my warm-up round.?

Two minutes later, I charge like a drunk bull in a Walmart parking lot.

POP!

He cracks me in the forehead so hard I thought my skull unzipped.

But me being stubborn as a mule on steroids - I keep swinging.

He just spins, slides, pirouettes? BAM BAM BAM - nose, eye, eye.

My face swells up like a fuckin? marshmallow Peep left in the microwave.

?????

Now I?m half blind, bleeding like a stuck pig, but I finally notice his little trick.

He sticks his left hand in the air like he?s hailing a cab in New York.

I?m like, ?What the fuck is this?interpretive dance??

Next thing I know - WHAM WHAM! - kidney shots.

I drop faster than cheap beer at a hockey game.

Curled up on the mat, sucking air like a newborn baby on a tit.

Bell rings.

I?m covering my head, waiting for him to finish me Mortal Kombat?style: ?Finish him!?

Pretty sure I pissed blood for a week.

I?ll stick to drawing pictures? except I?m the genius who can manage to hurt himself doing that too.

???????????????...and that's callin' it like it is!