Friday, May 09, 2008

Boys Gone Wild

I'm coming to you from the foggy depths of my hangover. Witty banter is trying to come to the surface, but it's currently being blocked by too many Blue Moon's, chicken strips, second hand smoke, and an almost bar brawl in which this guy was 3 seconds short of grabbing my ass, when my friend Nevada who is a foot taller and could see the incoming hand, pushed him away at which point, he told her she was being disrespectful.

Bar fighting much like Kung Foo just isn't my forte. I'm somehow always right in the middle. Once in college, I was at a crowded keg party when two guys started fighting, and guy A got so mad he hauled off and hit guy B, but instead of hitting guy B, he punched me right in face.

Fast forward 30 seconds and I'm crawling out of the party on my hands and knees.

Besides some hand to hand combat training that is required when one grows up between two brothers, I just don't have the skills needed to have a proper bar fight.

Guess we can't all be Patrick Swayze in Roadhouse, can we?

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