It’s Sheer Suicide, My Friend

I was so astonished by his foolishneIMG_8438ss and admonished, “Idiot, are you out of your mind? Do you really think that you can play American football? Look at yourself, man! You are as weak as a sad autumn fallen leaf. And on the top of it all, your legs are as thin as chop sticks. They’ll smash you as if you were a tiny cockroach. It’s sheer suicide, my friend. Do you really think that you’re able to compete with strong muscle dicks? For the love of God, please consider it again!”

“Shout up, man! Do you really think that I’m not strong enough to withstand their tackles? You’ll see how strong I am. You won’t believe in your own eyes how I’ll knock muscle son of bitches about like ninepins. Indeed, I can brow them into the thin air by a single fart, as if a cannonball blasted right beside them, so to speak. You’ll see, my friend!”

“Okay, okay, cool down, idiot. If you say so, I’m not going to stop you. Anyway, how much did you pay for all equipment?”

“I paid seven thousand and five-hundred pesos.”

“What? It’s too expensive, man!” I exclaimed.

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