Tuesday, June 13, 2006

seven, MOTHER FU@%ER! SE-VEN!

This is an ode and shout out to Freddy Camacho, my Fit-to-Fight intructor at One World Martial Arts. Yesterday morning we were doing an upper body medicine ball drill. When we were on round SEVEN of TEN (arms/schoulders burning and aching in PAIN), Freddy miscounted and said we were on our sixth round.

His miscalculation summoned the evil witch inside me and I blurted:
seven, MOTHER FU@%ER! SE-VEN!

The others (including Freddy) burst in laughter. The drill continued.

Thank heaven Freddy and the other folks I train with have a good sense of humor. (Or I could be reading this completely wrong. Eric did call me a potty mouth and Czar just looked stunned... then frightened.)

seven, MOTHER FU@%ER! SE-VEN!

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