bjj, competition, improvement, matchups

Mail Day!

It’s Mail Day! Let’s answer some questions.  As always, if you have any questions you want answered, write me at

Greg from Albany writes:

What is your favorite Mythological Creature and why?

Thanks for writing Greg.  I’m going with Minotaur. Six pack abs, natural sense of rage; it’s the perfect combination of power and sexual charisma.  Here’s a ranking of my top players in the mythological game, from first to worst:

  1. Minotaur
  2. Centaur
  3. Genies
  4. Unicorn
  5. Medusa
  6. Jesus
  7. Pegasus
  8. Bigfoot
  9. Hydra
  10. Giant

Jeff, from West Chester asks:

Two part question. If Hitler’s preserved brain was transfered into a grizzly bear, would you volunteer to fight him to the death?  Do you think you would win?

Thanks for writing, Jeff!  My question to you is when, temporally speaking, would this fight take place?  If it was 1937 I think I would step up to the plate.  In 2014 Hitler’s just fighting for pride, which makes him more dangerous.  I like to think that this fight would take place in 2099 AD, where me and Hitler-Grizzly are fighting to amuse our corporate overlords at their Christmas party.

Anyway, I think I would have a fighting chance.  Because Hitler has the mind of a man, in the body of a bear.  He wouldn’t know how to use the patented bear moves (mauling, biting,  rearing up to terrifying heights, etc) that makes bears so dangerous.  He wouldn’t maximize his built in advantages as a bear.  Conversely, if you put a bear’s mind in Hitler’s body, he’d flail around, not knowing how to use a man’s body.

I think I could conceivably get behind him, take his back and choke him out before he could figure out how to shake me off.  Then it’s bear steaks for everybody.

Troy from Hoboken NJ writes:

My girlfriend says I spend too much time at Jiu Jitsu.  It’s becoming a larger issue than it should be, leaking into other aspects of our relationship.  I’d like to strike up a compromise with her, without losing any mat time.  What should I do.

Thanks for writing Troy.  Troy!  What a name.  Anyway, you’ve got a real problem on your hands.  You can save it though! Here are a few techniques:

Basic:Most arguments in relationships, especially boyfriend-girlfriend relationships, are invisible struggles to seize and maintain the moral high ground.  You’ve already seized this position because your girlfriend is asking you to change something about yourself. All you have to do is hold down the fort. The most basic defense that you can muster is that she should love you for you, and that trying to change you into something you’re not, or  to make you do something you don’t want to do, would violate the most basic of all relationship principals.  Say something to that effect and watch the waves of guilt crash down all around her!

Intermediate:  To try something a little more advanced, let her know that the time spent at the gym is a wholesome, bettering, activity, and it’s not like you are spending your nights and weekends drinking and fucking around with your friends and other women.  You’re an athlete, god damn it.  This really only works if A) you are not currently spending your nights and weekends drinking and fucking around with other women and B) your girlfriend values fitness and comraderie.  If she genuinely wants you around so you can watch her while she watches her 5th episode of Chopped, I would stick to the basics.

Advanced:  Compromise, skip a bunch of classes, and be miserable.  So miserable that she “allows” you to go back to your normal schedule.  This is a shrewd high risk strategy.  It involves you seemingly conceding your moral position to her, only for your girlfriend to realize later that she’s the one who’s wrong.  It’s like a double switch ending to a movie where it turns out she’s Kaiser Soze where all along she thought she was Katherine Heigle in 27 dresses.

The risk is that your girlfriend may not care you’re miserable and it turns out you’re dating a monster.  Or you act too insufferable and she breaks up with you because she thinks you’re a monster.  Or maybe you’re just meant for each other because you are both awful people!  Good luck!


That’s everything in the mail bag!  If you have a question you want answered, send it in at



disgusting, fat people, improvement, matchups, rulon gardener, Uncategorized

private fatbody, reporting for duty sir.

Have you ever thought about the super obese, and how they got there?  When you’ve been trapped in your bed for the last six years, weighing 790 lbs, I imagine your universe is tiny.  It consists of your feeding room, and the people keeping you alive.  Literally, it’s a giant waste of potential.  Scientifically, it’s a huge furnace of a body, pumping in calories.  Like a sun made of fat, pulling people and things into its orbit.

For me, two questions arise:  How did this happen to these folks?  And can it happen to me?  If you can arrive at the first answer, it will lead you to the second.

Suppose you are a man of falstaffian appetites, but tempered by excercise.  What happens if you get hurt, and you can’t exercise?  A life time habit of overconsumption doesn’t just dissappear overnight.  So you keep eating how you ate.  Next thing you know, you’re fifty pounds in the hole, and pre diabetic.  The slope only gets more slippery. 

Some people live paycheck to paycheck, standing on the edge of a cliff.  All it takes is one disaster to push you over that edge, and you’re out on the street.  For some, it is the same with their health and waistline.  One injury or disaster, and three years later you’ve gone too seed.  As the pounds pack on, you get stuck in a feedback loop.  Too fat to exercise.  And getting fatter.  Along with the attendent health problems of the obese compounding the interest.  In my head it just seems so easy.

So can it happen to me?  Terrifyingly, yes it can.  Now, I’m sure that my wife and my general sense of fitness would never let me into the say, 500+ club, but I can see myself in the year 2025, stepping out of my hover car, in my size xxxxl radiation cloak.  Weighing 425lbs and rocking diabetic hosery.  All because of some knee injury and a refusal to change my eating habits.

And I’ll tell you what.  I was just in big and tall shop, and I refuse to wear those clothes.  I got to stay fresh, y’all.

I guess I wrote this to verbalize my fears.  To put a road map up to becoming morbidly obese, and then take a giant red pen to it, scrawing “NO” across it. 

But on the other hand, being really fat could get me on tv…so its a toss up.

bjj, matchups

People and Things I’d Like to Fight Right Now

The more I write about jiu-jitsu, the more I realize I lack the warrior spirit that successful fighters have.  That doesn’t mean there are things that don’t get me spittin’ mad.

If I saw the following things across the street from me, they better start running, because I’m coming after them.  You heard it here first.

The Final Episode of the Killing.  I wish I knew a warlock who could cast a spell to bring the final episode of this show to life, so I could murder it, if it doesn’t get lynched first by the thousands of people who wasted their sunday nights watching it. The fight would start out good, then get reaaaaaaaaaallly boring, and be full of obvious red herrings and plot holes about who actually wins. Someone’s fiance’ will show up, but be totally irrelavent to the plot, too.  I if I DO win, and wind up murdering the show, I’ll never get caught.  Because with Linden and Holder couldn’t detect their way out of a Walmart. Fuck you Linden. Fuck your turtleneck sweaters too.

2. My Wife’s Cat, Scrabble. I don’t promote violence against animals. But at night I look into Scrabble’s eyes, and I send him telepathic messages that I hope he somehow instinctually understands.  They go a little something like this…”You may have her fooled, but not me, you son of a bitch.  You may hear me say to Beth that I wish you wouldn’t pee on my stuff or bite me in the middle of the night, but the truth is, I want you to.  Everytime you pull your little bullshit antics is another step you take to winding up in the dryer by accident. So please, keep it up.” Zip your lip and fly straight Scrabs, or its off to the High Kill Shelter while mommy is at BJ’s.


Home Depot Tool Rental Department. I may have bit off more than I can chew here.  If taken literally, this may mean that the tools in the department combine to form some sort of fighting machine.  If this is the case, my apologies, sentient tool almalgamation.  I want to rage out at the concept of renting a tool that requires three trips back just to get it to work.  If that concept was incorprate itself in human form, it would look like a bored college drop out named Dale.  Dale, if I see you, you’re mine. Do you hear me?  Pray some ancient magic doesn’t will you into existence.

You’re mine, Dale.