Shark Girl has often wondered what could make her quit jiu jitsu:
The threat of ringworm or staph?
Sweaty boys dripping their cooties all over me?
I’m not sure how I managed to deal with this one, but I have. It’s only really gross when you’re not sweaty, too.
Fear of flatulence (someone else’s or—worse—mine)?
Yeah, got over it.
Hair getting caught on the mat?
I sheared my hair short.
Smeared toe polish?
Even though a pedicure is the only way to civilize my Shark feet, high-priced polish jobs spent more time on the mat than me. Out with them!
A wart epidemic?
Compound W is now a staple in my medicine cabinet.
But what about health concerns? Long-term readers may recall the kidneyberg and my constant worries that some big dude will crush my ribcage. But there’s a new one. It’s time for Shark Girl to tell you a story . . . but she’s too tired right now. You’ll have to wait for Part 2.