Review: Soft Knuckles

You in your four story mansion with a 5:1 window to room-ratio: I know what you're hiding. It is the reason why you believe in pacifism and don't have a favorite coffee mug. The reason why your son isn't good at sports but is still better than you. IT'S YOUR SOFT KNUCKLES, ya goose.

I expect there to be shame. I expect a parade of shame with small men in stockade costumes and old women riding floats doing the thing with their index fingers (ya know- pointing one out and sliding the other one down it). I expect you to look into knuckle hardening, but once you find out its 1 out of 6 success rate, you'll back down. All you soft knuckled people always back down.

It's not that you don't punch or that you take breaks from typing too much or not gripping as hard when you masturbate or not gripping as hard when you garden causing the spade to fly out your hands and blind your blonde neighbor who you thought could be friends but now just throw that out the window or how you never give high fives because the reverberation within the hand ecosystem is too much for you or how your mitten are always loose around the wrist or how your boxing gloves have extra padding and look like the physics of Rudolph's nose were applied to an baboon's butt and that baboon was also the size of Rik Smits or when you sleep at night you wear protective knuckle wear which is basically you stick your hand in jars of vaseline and sleep with them on. O boy, your life.

Don't be too ashamed though. I mean its your knuckles, nothing that important.