Hello, sir. You seem to be enjoying your evening. You are talking loudly and appear to be intoxicated, so much in fact that you bumped into my arm as we passed each other. An honest mistake, I’m sure, but I am afraid that my sense of honor cannot allow this infringement to go unanswered. We must now engage in fisticuffs. Have at you!

Yes, I suppose we could both go our separate ways. That would certainly have its benefits, as it would require markedly less effort and almost completely eliminate the possibility of physical harm on both of our parts. Or I could pummel your face and upper body with my fists. Now really, sir, which option seems more reasonable to you?

Now hold on, sir. If you continue to walk away, I will be forced to take drastic actions. You will leave me little choice, and, as much as it chagrins me to do so, I will call you a pussy. A pussy, sir! And there will be no doubt in the minds of these onlookers as to who the victor is.

I am a man, sir. A large, strong man. I lift weights in the gymnasium. There is little doubt that any female who has witnessed this interaction would now like to sleep with me. You, on the other hand, have proven yourself to be a scoundrel and a cad. Yes, my dear sir. A cad.

I am so very angry.

You know, college is different than high school. In high school I would exercise all the time. I was always running around, playing sports, and just being outside. It was great. Also, my high school only had around four hundred kids in it, so if you screamed obscenities at one of your classmates there was a good chance it would come back to bite you. Not so in college.

College is a place where you grow up, mature, and learn how to be a part of the real world. And with all of my newfound responsibility, I find it almost impossible to get any exercise. Hell, the most active I usually get is parking myself on the couch and playing Gears of War 2! Such is the life of an adult, I guess. I’m sure you’ve experienced similar problems.

Well, the good news is that there is a solution. Last year I joined my friend’s intramural dodge ball team and found that it was a great way to stay in shape while still having fun and being around people. How awesome is that? This school offers a wide variety of intramural sports, from softball, to volleyball, to basketball and I play them all. There’s nothing I love more than some good, friendly competition…unless it’s yelling an ethnic slur at someone I’ve never met. And guess what? In intramural sports, you can do that too!

In addition to getting in shape, intramural sports are a great way to make friends. Also enemies. I cannot even tell you how deep the bond is with the other nine members of my softball team, or how much the other eighty-seven members of the league thoroughly despise me. It’s okay though—they’re all pussies.

I hear what people say. Blake, they say to me, there’s no need to be so competitive. Intramural sports are just for fun. I couldn’t agree more. After all, what could be more fun than telling a person who has no idea who I am that they are a pathetic fucking assclown?

Did I mention that you can drink at some of the intramural games? That’s fun too.

Sometimes people do cross the line though, and that’s just not cool. For instance, the other day, in my softball game, the catcher for the other team had the nerve to try and call me out on a close play at the plate when I had clearly slid in under his tag. What was that cunt bitch thinking? That is not what intramural sports are all about. But you know what? If he wants to try and win like that, that’s fine. I gave myself credit for the run anyway and then went and spit on his cell phone. That’ll show the sniveling little vaginal wart.

So remember, if you want to have a great time while getting exercise, don’t hesitate to sign up for a team. Unless it’s not my team. Then you can go fuck yourself.