Fights

mindless thugs need not respond.

Last week my wife was showing off her self-defense moves, and was goading me to try to "attack" her, so I leaned over and grabbed the edge of the oriental rug she was standing on and yanked it real hard.

i didn't mean posts about mindless things beating you up richard.

although i'm not encouraging you to post those either.

wuss

While I am confident that I am innocent of any wrong doing, on the advice of my counsel, I respectfully decline to participate in this thread, based upon my rights under the Fifth Amendment of the Constitution of the United States.

I used to fight alot. Well, "alot" in comparison to people I knew.

I never won, but of course when you're 13 that's not the point. Trying to draw blood and yell "...and that whore mother of yours too!" are.

And generally non-confrontational existence, something which, as I recall, marveled the alcoholic who had his ass handed to him on numerous occasions.
That said, the one occasion I did get into the fisticuffs was when I was 11. I was riding my skateboard home from 7-11 with next to one of my friends who was on a bike. This particular friend was one that I hadn't hung out with very much and who wasn't from my neighborhood. I think at the time I wanted to impress upon him the coolness of my burgeoning identity as a 'skater.' We'd just made the 15 minute trip up to 7-11 to indulge in some slurpees. I wasn't allowed to have soft drinks or candy at home so going to 7-11 was a big treat for me. As a result I think I overcompensated when I was old enough to buy my own and my rotting teeth are still paying the price. Anyway, as we were leaving the 7-11 two other kids I'd never seen before walked in. Seeing the skateboard in my hand, one of the kids muttered the dreaded phrase,"poser" at me as we passed them at the door. At first I ignored it. Then something made me do that classic kid thing; just before disappearing around the high hedge on the corner I gave the kid the finger yelling "Fuck off!" My friend and I continued walking home enjoying our slurpees. A couple minutes later the other kids came around the hedge down the sidewalk coming into view. They saw us still walking a couple blocks up and started running and yelling. My friend and I kind of looked at each other and just stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. I was a little bit indignant because by my logic I was not, in fact, a poser. My friend didn't really care. The kid that had slandered me was obviously older and as he got closer I realized slightly larger. I just stood there sipping my slurpee when he came up to ask, "You want to fight?"
"No. Not really." This perplexed him maybe.
"Did you tell me to fuck off?"
"Well you called me a poser."
In a quick flash he slapped me in the face just under my eye causing me to drop my slurpee. My sugary prize was RUINED! I was pissed. Without really thinking I went at him. He kept trying to hit me while simultaneously backing away, circling around my friend who was just sitting there on his bike. I started trying to kick him. No luck. This continued for a few minutes. Eventually I just stopped.
"Give up?", he asked.
"I'm not a poser, asshole."
"Whatever, POSER!"
I'd had enough though. Besides even the skinny 11 year old me knew that I was more likely than not going to get my ass kicked.
"Let's go", I said to my friend.
"Bye poser."

Against the advice of my attorney, and since Josh and Daisy's anecdotes were pretty entertaining I will recount the best fight I ever witnessed, but did not take part in. I was living in Ann Arbor Michigan about ten years ago. For a college town, that place doesn't really have a lot going on. You usually need to drive an hour to Detroit for any, um, "culture." So when Warzone and the Business were coming to the Motor City, I really wanted to check it out. I had never seen either band. This was right around the time that all the old washed up English bands started touring the States to cash in. Unlike everyone else on this board I am not skinheadaphobic. Anyhow, I finagled a ride with a couple of crazy drunk stoner skins to the show. And it was a good time.

On the way back, it was decided that our driver was not sufficiently drunk or high, so we stopped over in Hamtramack (sp?) for some libations. As did just about every skinhead in Michigan. Including Micky Fitz, who I got to talk to and realized he was a real jerk. Anyways, the bartender was this 80 year old guy everybody called Fast Eddy. It literally took him 5 miutes to walk from one end of the bar to the other. So people decided to help the poor guy out and started pouring their own drinks (but of course paying and tipping the old guy...) It was really like being in a scene from Quadrephenia or something, and I was already feeling a little bit unreal when the first chair got thrown across the room. Then the others started flying. Pool sticks were broken over backs. It was totally like in a cartoon when you just see a dust cloud with occaisonal fists and boots and stars and "#$@%&!" popping out. Except it was about 50 of those dust clouds over the whole room.

Fast Eddy, who I'm sure had seen a lot worse, decides in his infinite wisdom to turn the lights off. That only made things worse. I was hiding under a table by this point. He turns the lights on and off a few times more and shouts: "Hey assholes! Did you come here to drink or did you come here to fight?"

"FIGHT!!!!"

I have no recollection of how I got home that night. Or why the broohaha started. Probably one of those "White Power versus Trads" kind of things. Although I do remember when things finally cooled down the partying went on for several more hours, so I guess there were no hard feelings. Sometimes violence is funny. I still subscribe to the Thin Lizzy ethos of "if the boys want to fight, you better let 'em."

I guess you had to be there.

in seattle about eight years ago, my ex-girlfriend and i were taking the bus to work. this guy sitting in back of us starts up a homophobic tirade, going on and on about how immoral it is to be gay, how disgusting faggots are, etc. finally i look at him and say "if you don't like gay people, don't come to capitol hill." (capitol hill being a predominantly gay neighborhood in seattle.) he tells me, predictably, to fuck off. i say no more; a woman sitting next to him begins to argue with him and call him on his homophobia as well. he gets in her face and from where we're sitting, it looks like he's hitting her. so when he gets up to get off the bus, my ex kicks him in the shin. he turns around and kicks her in the face. people begin swarming around us, and he and a couple of others begin to pile on top of us. the woman who'd been arguing with him shields us with her body, and takes his blows. eventually, he and his cohorts run off the bus.

my ex-girlfriend's face was covered with blood, from a scar along the bridge of her nose where he kicked her, which necessitated her getting stitches, and which i would guess she still has (i haven't been in touch with her for years). she got a concussion.

the woman who shielded us also got a concussion, as well as a number of bruises. she and i became close, and she is one of my very best friends to this day.

i escaped with a couple of bruises. and someone whom i would trust and have trusted with my life.

I got beat up by an asshole straight-edge dude for exchanging oral favors with his hot bisexual girlfriend who always came onto me when she was drunk. I might have mounted a better defense had I not been half-drunk and in my underwear, and had he not knocked my glasses off with his first punch. It all went down at her friend's apartment, and the drug dealer who was shacking up with that chick came to my defense.

The next day I got threatened by his whole youth crew (the pro forma circle-and-stare), but the major beat-down never materialized.

Apparently the police chopper also made an appearance — they spotlighted a friend of mine, who proceeded to moon the chopper, not knowing there were some cops on foot about ten paces behind him. They tackled him with his pants down and wrote him a citation for public nudity or something, which he took, crumpled up and ate.

I was saving the 'Vandalism' thread for the next time Aaron goes on a bourgeois thread onslaught.

Then theft.

Finally, murder.

PS - Geek = Alan fake account?

I'm sorry, I can't allow for more than about 20 seconds of that video to play on my computer.

i just think that it's so good, it deserved a thread of its own, really.

He's managed to grow into a stereotype at an apparently young age. Only the relatively affluent...

And to stick to the theme, someone should kick his ass.

You know you're absolutely right...

I have been in so many fights there is no way
they could all be documented.

I do however have the fact that I never
threw the first punch to assuage my guilt
a bit. This is not to say my mouth didn't cause
punches to come faster than Todd all over a
bad pun covered in pizza.

Whenever I do tell fight stories they are
usually of the noble knight-like ilk.

and why not.

But there are a few others of course. . .

one in particular happened in a "punk" bar with some
typical dude-bros slumming it up.
They were however pretty low key.
Maybe some knowing nods and quiet snickers
among the group. Nothing overtly rude.

A few drinks in I started feeling a little
"You ain't from around here are you boy."
about the whole situation, but stuck with sidelong
sneers as opposed to confrontation.

Then I was at the bar standing next to one.
He ordered a Coors light.
and I giggled.

It wasn't much. But some fuses were lit.
He turned and asked if there was
something wrong with his order.

I replied no, in fact it was completely appropriate.
The bartender told me I should probably take
that opportunity to rejoin my friends and the dudebro
agreed saying it would be beneficial to my health.

I told him that that was an interesting
observation since I felt that my well being
was in no immediate danger.

and giggled my little giggle.

He than pushed me. And I smiled.
I went to hit him and found myself restrained
by another member of his group.

the big one. He had my right arm behind me
and his left around my throat.

Coors light came at me and I sort of
kicked him away while simultaneously
pulling the big guy's pinkie away from my neck.

Coincidentally the music had stopped and the
bar was treated to the very loud sound of a man's
pinkie breaking.
He fell down.

I turned to him and found him crying
on his knees.

His friends were being taken out by bouncers and
bar goofs.

And I stood there feeling very stupid
apologizing over and over.

I almost couldn't
finish my beer.

I never said they weren't.

I have one that almost fills those
qualifications.

but it was more of a riot than a fight
so I disqualified it.