The Hobby Swapping Problem

It was a while ago but I used to make origami/
I used to fold washi paper into cranes for a hobby/
I formed their bodies with perfect angles and dog-eared corners/
Making everything from Bengal Tigresses to pale Border Collies/

Where you could pull their tails to make them flap their wings/
Or pinch their necks to make them roar with their complex anatomies/
But that all came crashing down tragically when, well what happened is/
Or was, a horrible freak paper cut accident/

So I tried out something different and practiced martial arts a bit/
Transformed my legs and arms to armaments, an armistice I forged between my mind and body/
Karate chopping thick slabs of marble to marbles and
Blocked a kick with nothing but thinking the thought of “I will block this kick”/

I fought and fought again, I’d always win/
Until one day I fought the wrong sensei and somehow lost to him/
And then I figured I could use a new hobby fast/
When I woke in the ICU, mummified inside a full body cast/

So I tried out woodworking, and learned a thing or two/
About building birdhouses and a sanctuary for the endangered with the zoo/
And without nails or glue I built perfect-fit architecture with versatile sandalwood/
That even termites wouldn’t dare to chew/

But the Steel Industry is a different beast
Their countless inner rings of arsonists don’t like and fear anything built with trees/
So I got into magic with simple tricks/
Err, illusions like how to make a yacht disappear without sinking it/

I put live rounds inside a real gun for every bullet I’d catch/
And I sawed a lower limb, double amputee woman in half/
But when your Transported Man has to trap, clones in tanks to drown/
They’ll take you out, pulled at the drop of a hat with a vanished act, but still, I’m safe and sound!/

But rules are rules so I was gone fishin’/
I threw a net and accidentally caught a dolphin pod in it/
Got some FOMO, rowed from coast to coast/
And caught the Lochness Monster without my rod and then caught the Ogopogo with it/

I studied mutated fish in ponds near Chernobyl/
With evidence of Kraken tentacles adorning on our boat’s hull/
We stumbled on a whaling operation, so we thwarted them/
But let’s just say my fishing boat’ll never be seaborne again/

So I got into miming…/
Then I tried out a comedy class to practice my - timing/
And I’d showcase new material at sold out shows on the weekend/
Then I auditioned for SNL and they let me host for a season/

I popped up on the screen opposite promising Hollywood starlets with Oscar noms/
In romcoms with a record box office streak/
But my private pilot had the last laugh
When I cracked a joke and split his sides, and we were forced to crash land/

So I took the plunge and tried out diving, took a stab at fencing/
Gave clay pigeon hunts a shot, and then I tried to tackle wrestling/
Tried the chef thing but I let Gordon Ramsay ingest some foreign bodies/
So I’ve been thinking ‘bout getting back into origami/