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.