Fat Guy BJJ Blog

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

I’m a Blue Belt Blogger, And A Gangster of Love.

Recently, well…today, I read a post.  OK, I read the majority of a post, on Facebook, from a dude I highly respect, Professor Tom Deblass:


That shit is hilarious! He said balls!  But I digress…

Imagine his surprise when he learned that a Blue Belt can make his very own blog and pontificate to his heart’s content about anything under the sun, including Jiu Jitsu. What’s that?  Qualifications?  Surely a sweet beard is the only qualification I need:

sweet beard

Hot damn, now there’s a guy who knows everything about everything. And, to be honest, I’ve brought you some real gems.  See for yourself, and read a little snippet:

If Your BJJ Were An Animal, What Would It Be?

“Let’s not forget awkward bear pulling guard.  You could be in real danger if you wade into my guard, but you’re probably not going to, right?  Since I’d rather hibernate than chase you, I’m probably going to just end up sitting here like this until the beeper goes off and we change partners, at which time I will repeat the same scenario again.”

Top Tips For New Jiu Jitsu Competitors

 There were no mats to warm up on, which is probably a lot of fun and giggles for the little tiny ass featherweight guys.  But for the bigguns like myself, we need a minimum operating strip of runway to get this party started.  I can’t just walk out there and fight.  My neck, my back, and my spleen are now traumatized.”


“The Jiu Jitsu experience can’t be all nut sacks and heavy breathing.  We need some small victories as well, you know, to keep us going.”

And, of course…

The Wet Willy Turtle Break Video

Yeah, I’ll just leave those right there.  I even write Jiu Jitsu haiku:

I passed your guard once…
I wonder if it was real?
Fuck it.  Let’s eat.  Oss.

Now, given my level of literary prowess, I would think that my qualifications speak for themselves.  For anybody who thinks you need years and years of experience to pontificate…nay, bloviate, on a given topic, I’ve got two words for you….

Donald Trump.

I hereby offer the following course of action for people who don’t like reading BJJ articles from Blue Belts:


As a side note to Professor DeBlass, I’m joking.  Please don’t kill me. 🙂

Update: Shortly after publishing this article I was accosted by these people:


Stop laughing.  They’re tougher than they look. I heard they were from team Renzo Gracie, so I immediately hid my ankles, but in no time they had roughed me up properly.  Long story short, I’m allowed to write about Jiu Jitsu going forward, as long as I let them savagely edit proofread my articles.  Also, I’m not allowed to write about leg locks until I’m a brown belt, minimum.  And never, ever write about reaping the knee.  Got it. Now release my wife and kids, you savages.


Deep Throat Thrombosis and the Donkey Dick of Destiny

If you’re already up on my situation, I’m attaching this picture as proof of life:


So I had myself an interesting weekend. I was scheduled to have surgery to repair my Atrial Fibrillation problem (aFib) using some sort of secret squirrel shock therapy or some shit.  In order to do that, they needed a good look at the inside of my heart.  Apparently, in order to do that, they need to go INSIDE my body since, you know, lungs and bones and skin and shit are in the way if you try to image from outside the body.

Long story short, Thursday morning I find myself deep throating a TEE probe (Transesophageal echocardiogram).  Now, that might sound benign, but when medical terms come out and you have no idea what they mean, you’re about to get fucked by technology.  In this case, I had the opportunity to give technology a blow job, which, honestly, is way over due.  I mean, technology has done so much for me, but I digress.

Here’s what the probe looks like:


Aaaand, here’s a donkey dick:


I trust you can see the similarity. Anyhow, the donkey dick of destiny uncovered a major problem.  I have an Atrial Thrombosis, which is an over-educated dickbag way of saying I have a blood clot in my heart.  That’s not good.

Now, the clot won’t kill you as long as it remains in the heart.  If that shit gets pumped out into the system, you’re solidly fucked.  Hence, it doesn’t make much sense to put my heart back into rhythm where it will, subsequently, immediately pump the thrombus out into my circulatory system and start fucking shit up like the mosh pit at a Hatebreed concert. Instead I’m on blood thinners.  Lots and lots of blood thinners.  With the hope that the thrombus will stop being a twat waffle and go quietly into the night.

So that’s how my weekend is going so far.  A night in the Cardiac ICU and a blowjob, although I was hoping to receive one rather than give one, but fuck.  What can you do?

Look At it! Look At My Precious!

Juan Verde Blue BeltLook at my precious!  Never mind the fact that it looks like I stole my kid brother’s belt for this photo (I got a little over-zealous with how much weight I’ve lost).  Never mind the fact that it took me slightly less time than it took the Grand Canyon to form. I have it, and it is mine!

There are many blue belts, but this one is mine.  And yours sucks. Well, maybe not, but mine is certainly better.  Actually, this one isn’t mine.  I ordered a slightly larger one.  But I digress.

And with this belt promotion, my journey to the dark side is complete.  I’m sorry all of you Jedi enthusiasts, but I’m of the Sith.  I’ll do kesa gatame on your mommy.  I’ll do a leg lock on a hedgehog. I’ll pass guard on a retard.  I’ll put a twister on your sister. It’s real over here.

I guess I can’t be accused of #whitebeltprivledge any more.


Top Tips for New Jiu Jitsu Competitors

Jiu Jitsu competition is something….it truly is.  I don’t quite know whether that something is good or bad yet, but it’s something. Here’s my experience with the IBJJF Atlanta Pro last weekend, organized into bite-sized morsels for your reading pleasure:

Bring a fan. Not that kind that claps and yells your name; the kind that blows cold air and provides ambient noise at night.  In fact, bring two, just in case your knucklehead room mate  illustrious coach decides to ninja kick it off the nightstand and break it all to shit just as you attempt to get a good night’s sleep before your fights.

Don’t be in a hurry. 
I was scheduled to fight at 3:30.  We were to report to the bull pin 40 minutes before our scheduled fight time, so at 2:50 I was doing light calisthenics and getting hyped.  This pic here is me at about 7:42 pm when we still hadn’t been called to roll.  I resorted to scrawling my life’s story into the concrete walls of the ballroom just to stave off the boredom.

Warm-ups?  WTF are those?  There were no mats to warm up on, which is probably a lot of fun and giggles for the little tiny ass featherweight guys.  But for the bigguns like myself, we need a minimum operating strip of runway to get this party started.  I can’t just walk out there and fight.  My neck, my back, and my spleen are now traumatized.  Thanks a lot IBJJF.  Next time I’m bringing my own team to get me ready and help me loosen up.




white-beltEverybody has been talking about “Black Lives Matter” and “Blue Lives Matter” and what not, so I thought I’d piggy back on that trend and let you in on a little secret, gentle BJJ practioner:

White Belt lives matter, too.

The Jiu Jitsu experience can’t be all nut sacks and heavy breathing.  We need some small victories as well, you know, to keep us going.

I hereby declare April 25th to be “Allow a White Belt to Pass Your Guard Day,” and you fuckers need to make it look authentic.  Nobody wants a pity pass.  Well, we do want a pity pass, but we want you to pretend like we earned it.  Bastards.

And don’t be that shitbag that immediately reverses the position just because you can.  With your shrimping and other superfluous bullshit….  Fat Guys need to rest for at least 15-20 seconds after passing the guard, so just lay there and take it.  For the future.

And now, a Fat Guy BJJ Haiku:friends

I passed your guard once…

I wonder if it was real?

Fuck it.  Let’s eat.  Oss.


An Unimpeachable Statistical Analysis of Probabilities For BJJ Practice Tonight

I sometimes like to slip into my prognosticator’s hat and take a stab at predictive statistical analysis, so I’ve crunched the numbers based upon all of my previous BJJ experience to produce a pie chart of probabilities of what might happen at practice tonight.  I think you’ll find it to be quite accurate.


Things Which Have Taken Less Time Than My Progression to Blue Belt

I’ve been sitting here thinking.  I started Jiu Jitsu sometime shortly after the titanic sank and I’ve been at it a while now.  I’ve strung together some injuries, some spells of not training, and some stubborn refusal to try things, and the result is that I’m the world’s most seasoned white belt.   Here are a few things which have taken less time than me progressing to blue belt:burj

  • The gestation period of the female black rhino, which typically lasts from 15-17 months.
  • The slow march to American socialism, which has really picked up steam in the last 2-3 years.  Yeah, I’ve been a white belt longer than that.
  • The Civil War.  Not even kidding.
  • The building of the Burj Khalifa.
  • Tim Tebow’s career.
  • The slow degradation of Miley Cyrus’s self respect.
  • The entire presidency of William Henry Harrison.
  • Floyd Mayweather’s reading of the Cat in the Hat.

But I digress. Who really needs a belt anyway when you’re having so much doggone fun?

Behold, My White Belt Moves

When I try to go north/south on my instructor:


When I try to escape anything from a purple belt or higher:


When I’m chilling on the sidelines and coach calls me to roll with a higher belt:


Me and the other white belts trying to shrimp during warmup drills:


When those little tiny white belts want to stand up rather than engaging:



I Just Broke 500 Tap Outs

If you’ve been following this blog at all over time, you know that I’ve got some sadistic desire to keep track of exactly how many times I’ve tapped out over my career.  I’ve even set a goal.  I’d like to eventually be able to say that I’ve tapped out 10,000 times.  Well, I’ve hit what feels like the first landmark along that road.  500.

It’s actually funny because my master, inquiring about how many taps I’d made it to so far, learned that I was poised at 496 taps.  I guess he wanted to be number 500, so he proceeded to bring out the “B” game.  I’m not going to call it the “A” game, because I know better, but it was solid “B” game.  The catch was we were only doing 4 minute rounds.  Do you think he was able to tap me out 4 times in 4 minutes?

Let’s just say the count officially stood at 501 by the end of that day, thanks in part to another blue belt running up the score after my master was done. He did claim the right to number 500, on three consecutive arm bars and a kimura from guard.  He had plenty of time to adjust his gi, tighten his belt, and stretch in between taps too.  It was…oh hell, I paid some dues.  It’s what white belts do.

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