I got punched in the head by my brother Nemesis yesterday.
I'm not really sure who to blame for that: Nemesis for not pulling the shot, or me for not blocking it. Don't worry, we weren't fighting...well, weren't seriously fighting...well....
Nemesis and I are currently working on a stunt-action fighting sequence that we plan to film eventually (and will post up on here when it comes out). It's really fun to create, except for those moments where we both forget what we're supposed to be doing and end up wrestling. I'm naturally aggressive, so I have to be careful not to forget that this is FAKE combat; very difficult for me. Nemesis's naturally defensive, which is amusing because sometimes he blocks at shots that he thinks I might throw, leading to him actually hitting me, because I'm not expecting to get hit with a block, which just seems weird.
It's part of the reason I love sparring; I really enjoy the chance to hit/be hit without repercussions...well, serious repercussions...well, from certain parental units who think that sibling fighting is a bad thing or something. I will admit that friend of mine accidentally knocked me out once, which was an educational and enlightening experience, and by "enlightening" I mean I saw lots and lots of bright lights swimming around my field of vision once I regained consciousness. It would have been an opportunity to do some mental astronomy and begin naming some of the constellations if it hadn't been for the fact that I had complete amnesia and short-term memory loss for the next thirty minutes. I suspect that I was very entertaining for everyone but my parents, who were naturally freaking out. Well, Mom was, anyway. Anyway, I recovered fairly quickly after I remembered who I was, but unfortunately I was not allowed to spar again because 1) Mom thought I needed to go to the hospital and 2) class had ended 15 minutes ago. My siblings were disappointed to discover that no one had taken video ("You mean it won't be on YOUTUBE?????").
I will also admit to not knowing when to give up...or, to be more precise, knowing when to give up, which will be sometime after the universe comes to a screeching halt and the winged monkeys bring Elvis back. I.E. never. This do-or-die mentality can be amusing, but it's also led to fractured bones (in my foot, after a few sparring matches ago when my best kick got blocked by an elbow). This trait is so hardwired in me that Mom reported that it was hugely present after I woke up from anesthesia after my wisdom teeth were removed. Despite the return of complete amnesia and short-term memory loss, I was still insistent on driving the car. According to Mom (I can't remember), I kept telling her, "No, it's okay, I can drive! I'm fine," and then walking into walls. Okay, I actually said something like "Mo, if ofay, E n wive! Mm fn," as I still had gauze in my mouth, but I think I made my point. Mom drove.
I guess this mentality is useful under certain circumstances, such as stupid stunts, new inventions, or the grill incident, which has led my siblings to allow me to try most things first, figuring that 1) I can take a lot of damage, like getting my hand crushed or having a rocket detonate in my lap, and 2) if I die, I'll probably deserve it because I'm a moron. (They're not far wrong...I mean, I hit up a storm sewer to get a frog. What does THAT say?)
Alright, I'm done with the links, I promise. I just discovered that LINKING IS FUN!!!!
So yeah, I'm headed off to practice my fighting sequence with Nemesis...and if anything funny happens, we'll put it up on YouTube. Wouldn't want to deprive the currently-absent parental unit of the fun of watching my younger brother knock me out....
...and does anyone know where the fire extinguisher is?