Fat Guy BJJ Blog

The slightly sarcastic, nominally entertaining Brazilian Jiu Jitsu adventures of a 30-something Dad


August 2014

A Fishy Metaphor and Other Nonsense

The following is a metaphor:


The fish is me, charging forward in an attempt to pass my master’s guard.  Or anybody above the rank of blue belt, really.  The boat is a loop choke.  Metaphor complete.

In other news, I’m opening our team to new recruits.  I haven’t spoken to my professor about it yet, or to the team, but I’m going to need to have a few people around that I can beat.  Please, only new white belts with no previous wrestling experience.  Athletic types need not apply.  In fact, if you’ve got an IQ lower than 110 you’re the perfect candidate. 

And finally, I’m now accepting donations for one of those clock beepy timer things that most gyms have.  You know, so you know when to switch partners.  The only thing worse than getting your ass kicked for a half hour is getting your ass kicked by the same person for a half hour with no breaks.  Yeah, fuckers.  That shit is not fat guy approved.  But I digress.  Happy Thursday.  And now, a Fat Guy Jiu Jitsu Haiku:

You smash me again

Biz-alls upon my forehead.

Vortex of ass funk.


White Belt Instructables: The Wet Willy Turtle Break

Hey, welcome to our first video post.  We’ll try to do one of these at least every month or so.  You know you want that good fat guy technique, now watch and enjoy. And, try not to take yourself too seriously. 🙂

Escape From Sexy Mount

So, there’s about 250 ways to call somebody fat, and I’ve decided to ban all of them and replace them with the word “sexy.”  Since I’m the white belt of destiny, my teammates have graciously allowed this transformation to occur in the name of white belt relations. So, instead of saying “I’d like to try that move on a large guy,” they have to say “I’d like to try that move on a sexy guy.”

Instead of ‘It’s hard for fat guys to pull off that move,’ it’s become ‘It’s hard for sexy guys to pull off that move.’

Today, in fact, we learned several ways to escape ‘fat boy mount’ which has now been renamed ‘sexy boy mount.’ I ask you, gentle reader, who would want to escape sexy boy mount?  Exactly.

The effect upon my self esteem has been monumental.  I got called sexy so many times last week that I actually started to believe I was sexy.  So, naturally, I approached the hottest woman I could find and asked, “Hey, baby.  Wanna hang with a sexy white belt?”  Obviously she didn’t get the memo on the ‘fat means sexy’ manifesto judging by the swiftness with which she punted my nuts.

But I digress.  Got another stripe today.  The journey continues.


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