06-05-2018, 12:15 AM
Correct on all three.
I like that drowning pool song but it made me laugh at a very inappropriate moment that could have gone a different direction.
I was drinking in a small pub on the wrong side of an ethnic divide I didn't see. Stupid Canuck glasses. SO I was a few cups into a good night of forgetting all that was wrong with the world. I guess I was looking too closely at a very pretty girl in a short skirt or something and her 'brother' took offence. He and a few of his mates decided it was time for me to leave, and with a few bruises. They came over all bravado and cock and I was thinking; if she doesn't like her hot-headed brother making drama this could go very well. So I played it cool and ignored them. Tough guys hate to be ignored. I understood the language enough to know what they were saying but I was only halfway thru my litre of vodka and wasn't really in the mood to answer.
I called the cowering lady over and handed her my bottle half finished and asked her to cut up another lemon. I heard the click of the blade and felt the pressure on my left side. I turned and faced the brother, presenting my more than adequate stab resistant belly. Fat is good in this case.
"What!?"
"I don't fucking care if your American. This is..." If you learn one thing from Bond films it should be never talking while lording over your target.
I pushed down on his wrist, directly behind the thumb, just in front of where your watch band would sit and stepped against him. The knife was now pointing up and harmless. Then I head-butted his nose all over his face. Drowning Pool song comes on as I step away from the three and assess the situation.
Then I start laughing. Hysterically. Vodka/mood/situation all combined and to me at this point was funny. I danced a little distance from the other targets and tried to regain my composure. It wasn't working. I was still laughing like a monkey gone mad in the sun.
The others were quite put off by this. My headbutt had smashed the one guy's nose and likely broken the upper mandible as he was spitting out a great deal of blood and shiny white bits. The others scooped him up and left.
I yelled after them. "Hey, I am Canadian, not American eh? Sorry!"
The barlady brought back my Vodka and fresh lemons. I didn't end up sharing it. Not everything works out perfectly.
No mozzies were injured in the telling of this story or during the actual occurrence. Verified by the antiviolence against winged insects league of Croatia.
I like that drowning pool song but it made me laugh at a very inappropriate moment that could have gone a different direction.
I was drinking in a small pub on the wrong side of an ethnic divide I didn't see. Stupid Canuck glasses. SO I was a few cups into a good night of forgetting all that was wrong with the world. I guess I was looking too closely at a very pretty girl in a short skirt or something and her 'brother' took offence. He and a few of his mates decided it was time for me to leave, and with a few bruises. They came over all bravado and cock and I was thinking; if she doesn't like her hot-headed brother making drama this could go very well. So I played it cool and ignored them. Tough guys hate to be ignored. I understood the language enough to know what they were saying but I was only halfway thru my litre of vodka and wasn't really in the mood to answer.
I called the cowering lady over and handed her my bottle half finished and asked her to cut up another lemon. I heard the click of the blade and felt the pressure on my left side. I turned and faced the brother, presenting my more than adequate stab resistant belly. Fat is good in this case.
"What!?"
"I don't fucking care if your American. This is..." If you learn one thing from Bond films it should be never talking while lording over your target.
I pushed down on his wrist, directly behind the thumb, just in front of where your watch band would sit and stepped against him. The knife was now pointing up and harmless. Then I head-butted his nose all over his face. Drowning Pool song comes on as I step away from the three and assess the situation.
Then I start laughing. Hysterically. Vodka/mood/situation all combined and to me at this point was funny. I danced a little distance from the other targets and tried to regain my composure. It wasn't working. I was still laughing like a monkey gone mad in the sun.
The others were quite put off by this. My headbutt had smashed the one guy's nose and likely broken the upper mandible as he was spitting out a great deal of blood and shiny white bits. The others scooped him up and left.
I yelled after them. "Hey, I am Canadian, not American eh? Sorry!"
The barlady brought back my Vodka and fresh lemons. I didn't end up sharing it. Not everything works out perfectly.
No mozzies were injured in the telling of this story or during the actual occurrence. Verified by the antiviolence against winged insects league of Croatia.

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