Warrior

I have to stop watching films where two blokes beat the tar out of one another and I end up crying, like the bride at a wedding when her dad is losing in a punch-up with the groom’s brother.

Of being battered, and of toilets, and the Future

Today was my first day of training in Tadotsu, and indeed the first exercise I've had since last Wednesday, if you exclude walking to the supermarket and purchasing Pringles. For no apparent reason, I couldn't sleep until two this morning, which meant the day was a bit of a struggle, as it started with a couple of hours of being thrown around by Japanese students in the morning, and then being walloped by a chap from Australia, before an afternoon session of wearing sweaty body armour in an overheated room and getting punched and kicked again. By about 4pm I was ready to drop; by half past five, having sat through a lecture delivered in untranslated Japanese I was ready for bed.

Foreign objects

For lunch today I went and bought a salad with lots of A's in it; arugala, asparagus, avocado. They didn't have any artichoke, but they made up for this omission by including a hair.