“Monday Night Guru”
Oct 3, 2019 14:01:13 GMT -5
via mobile
BonnieBlue, Spartan, and 3 more like this
Post by “The Guru Daddy” Wesley on Oct 3, 2019 14:01:13 GMT -5
The scene opens inside the Chevy Impala of Overt Sexuality. A canopy hangs along the passenger side door, doubling as a pavilion where The Guru Daddy sits, legs crisscross applesauce on some wompom booooooshit. He appears Zen AF, until his eyes flicker open and stare directly into the inner sanctum of your soul. Buckle up Alex, this shit gonna hurt brah.
“Lemm’ask you one thing and one thing only Alex: am I supposed to be impressed with you?”
The words hung strong and steadfast in that static buzz permeating television sets, computer monitors, and smart phones alike.
“Hey Mr. Scott, what ya gonna do, make your dreams come true? Yeah, you seem like a good kid. Passionate, full of piss and vinegar, but that doesn’t always equate to success. Success is a tricksy bitch like that, junior. It isn’t always tangible. Sometimes you may just have to find it in places you least expect. Take the road less traveled, so to speak. That might just be the predicament you’ve found yourself in because going one on one with ‘The Guru Daddy’ is absolutely an instant loss for you. Chalk it up to whatever you want, but the simple fact of the matter is you’re just not on the same level as me.
“Being World Champion takes a little more than gumption and bootstrapping, my man. It takes a keen intellect, honed killer instincts, balance within ones body, mind, and spirit...and just a dash of the unknown for flavor. These are things you’re distinctly lacking and it shows week after week as you scramble to make a name for yourself, begging and pleading for everyone to remember your name. I’m sorry kid, but they were in the bathroom so they have zero fucking clue what your name actually is.
“But who am I, right? Who am I to come in here and tell you these things you’ve had...no, you’ve NEEDED to hear? Well, they don’t call me ‘The Guru Daddy’ for shits and giggles, my guy. Let me set you upon my knee, take you under my proverbial wing, and tell you exactly what you’ve done wrong right before I spank you like the dogged child you are. Thems uh...thems are just the brakes kiddo. Trust me when I say it’s going to hurt you a lot more than it’s going to hurt me. Consider me your father, your best friend. Everything I do from this point on is with the greatest love and compassion.
“That’s how you can tell who the real ones are, Alex. The ones that blow smoke up your asshole, hold your hand, and coddle you are just pieces of shit. They want to keep you weak. They want you off your game. They want you ignorant to how the world really works...but somebody who’ll roll their sleeves up, call you an idiot, and then beat the holy dog shit out of you, those are the ones who really care about you. It sounds crooked back asswards my son, but you’ll just have to trust me on this one. Are you ready? Here we go.”
The Guru Daddy holds up them fangers, fixin’ to count this fool into straight up oblivion.
Your win-loss ratio? Wack.
Your gimmick? Wack.
Your personality? Wack.
Your ring attire? Wack.
Your footwork? Wack.
Your finisher? Wack.
Me? I’m tight as FUCK!
“These are things that nobody would tell you to your face, Alex. They’d let you just go on believing the lies. The condescending ‘you’ll get em next time, slugger’ mentality to just brush off your ineptitude and inability. I’ll tell you straight up what you’re lacking, mah boi, because I want you to feel enlightenment. I want you at your definitive best so that when I beat your ass - and I’m no doubt beating your ass - there will be no trivial excuses to make.
“Are you pissed off? Good. Use that anger, son. Use it to push past the threshold of what you believe to be possible for yourself...or let it consume you entirely. I want you to succeed. Really and truly, I do...but I could give a fuck less either way. I pray to The Guru’s that you find your inner peace, because you won’t receive any from me.”
“Lemm’ask you one thing and one thing only Alex: am I supposed to be impressed with you?”
The words hung strong and steadfast in that static buzz permeating television sets, computer monitors, and smart phones alike.
“Hey Mr. Scott, what ya gonna do, make your dreams come true? Yeah, you seem like a good kid. Passionate, full of piss and vinegar, but that doesn’t always equate to success. Success is a tricksy bitch like that, junior. It isn’t always tangible. Sometimes you may just have to find it in places you least expect. Take the road less traveled, so to speak. That might just be the predicament you’ve found yourself in because going one on one with ‘The Guru Daddy’ is absolutely an instant loss for you. Chalk it up to whatever you want, but the simple fact of the matter is you’re just not on the same level as me.
“Being World Champion takes a little more than gumption and bootstrapping, my man. It takes a keen intellect, honed killer instincts, balance within ones body, mind, and spirit...and just a dash of the unknown for flavor. These are things you’re distinctly lacking and it shows week after week as you scramble to make a name for yourself, begging and pleading for everyone to remember your name. I’m sorry kid, but they were in the bathroom so they have zero fucking clue what your name actually is.
“But who am I, right? Who am I to come in here and tell you these things you’ve had...no, you’ve NEEDED to hear? Well, they don’t call me ‘The Guru Daddy’ for shits and giggles, my guy. Let me set you upon my knee, take you under my proverbial wing, and tell you exactly what you’ve done wrong right before I spank you like the dogged child you are. Thems uh...thems are just the brakes kiddo. Trust me when I say it’s going to hurt you a lot more than it’s going to hurt me. Consider me your father, your best friend. Everything I do from this point on is with the greatest love and compassion.
“That’s how you can tell who the real ones are, Alex. The ones that blow smoke up your asshole, hold your hand, and coddle you are just pieces of shit. They want to keep you weak. They want you off your game. They want you ignorant to how the world really works...but somebody who’ll roll their sleeves up, call you an idiot, and then beat the holy dog shit out of you, those are the ones who really care about you. It sounds crooked back asswards my son, but you’ll just have to trust me on this one. Are you ready? Here we go.”
The Guru Daddy holds up them fangers, fixin’ to count this fool into straight up oblivion.
Your win-loss ratio? Wack.
Your gimmick? Wack.
Your personality? Wack.
Your ring attire? Wack.
Your footwork? Wack.
Your finisher? Wack.
Me? I’m tight as FUCK!
“These are things that nobody would tell you to your face, Alex. They’d let you just go on believing the lies. The condescending ‘you’ll get em next time, slugger’ mentality to just brush off your ineptitude and inability. I’ll tell you straight up what you’re lacking, mah boi, because I want you to feel enlightenment. I want you at your definitive best so that when I beat your ass - and I’m no doubt beating your ass - there will be no trivial excuses to make.
“Are you pissed off? Good. Use that anger, son. Use it to push past the threshold of what you believe to be possible for yourself...or let it consume you entirely. I want you to succeed. Really and truly, I do...but I could give a fuck less either way. I pray to The Guru’s that you find your inner peace, because you won’t receive any from me.”
