Left hand special.
Most of us never use our left hands, unless your left handed of course. 
We go though life never knowing what its like to have complete control of both hands or have them obey your every whim. Try cutting your steak with your left hand or the obvious one is writing with the weaker hand. I would imagine fighting is the same. Why would you throw your strong hand first and not follow up? I would throw the weak hand first and follow up right away with my strong hand before he realized he got hit. As you can see by the photo I caught a right handed fist while I was trying to break up a fight between an original saraguayian Nick Machocha and some fuckin' weak ass bitches. One of the three decided I was to be involved in the fight seeing that I was doing a good job of breaking it up. Little did they know that hitting me was the trigger that switched Nick from a foul mouth to a brawler. It was three against two. Fighting beside Nick was easier than I thought. I'm not much of a fighter nor do I go around looking for fights, but I was in the red pretty hard and showed that skinny shit the left hand special. Regardless we left those three suckers in the snow and ran back to my car. We ended up at nicks house with ice on my face another fuckin beer in my hand and a half eaten pizza still in its oily box on the floor. The rest of the night I listened to Nick laugh at out loud.
We go though life never knowing what its like to have complete control of both hands or have them obey your every whim. Try cutting your steak with your left hand or the obvious one is writing with the weaker hand. I would imagine fighting is the same. Why would you throw your strong hand first and not follow up? I would throw the weak hand first and follow up right away with my strong hand before he realized he got hit. As you can see by the photo I caught a right handed fist while I was trying to break up a fight between an original saraguayian Nick Machocha and some fuckin' weak ass bitches. One of the three decided I was to be involved in the fight seeing that I was doing a good job of breaking it up. Little did they know that hitting me was the trigger that switched Nick from a foul mouth to a brawler. It was three against two. Fighting beside Nick was easier than I thought. I'm not much of a fighter nor do I go around looking for fights, but I was in the red pretty hard and showed that skinny shit the left hand special. Regardless we left those three suckers in the snow and ran back to my car. We ended up at nicks house with ice on my face another fuckin beer in my hand and a half eaten pizza still in its oily box on the floor. The rest of the night I listened to Nick laugh at out loud.
