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Thread: When matters come to fisticuffs

  1. #51
    Cyburbian imaplanner's avatar
    Registered
    May 2004
    Location
    Snarkville
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    6,587
    Quote Originally posted by Duke Of Dystopia View post
    Outside of Mastiff, I'm thinking... you all couldn't fight your way out of a wet paper bag combined!

    The planners I have met so far, fight about as well as they party. One slug and their done! Pathetic really.
    I might be wrong but I also wouldn't be surprised if i could out drink you and out fight you. Or maybe just out drink you, or outfight myself while drinking backwards on the floor while you fight with an imaginary imaginary enemy- meaning possibly real. I'm not sure about that one. In any case- I know some stuff and I know some people. And those people know people if you get the drift. Accidents happen. That's all I'm saying. I've been around. I've been up. I've been down. Your momma is a clown.
    Children in the back seat can cause accidents - and vice versa.

  2. #52
    Cyburbian Emeritus Bear Up North's avatar
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    May 2003
    Location
    Northwestern Ohio
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    9,327

    The Put-In-Bay Mauler & Other Memories

    This Bear never considered myself a "fighter".....always liked the "lover" designation better.

    That said, some memories.....

    Early 20s Bear at our favorite late night tavern in west Toledo. I was sitting at the bar and turned around to check out the other patrons (scoping for chicks? ). This dude, sitting at a table with some other cavemen, shouted over to me, "What the fuck you looking at?" I stood up, intending to walk over to his table and indicate that I wasn't looking at him, just checking the crowd. But, when he saw how big I was he mumbled, "Sorry, buddy. My mistake." No fisticuffs.

    Years later I was with my posse at one of the many bars that line the village square on South Bass Island's village of Put-In-Bay. We were watching a rock and roll band perform and a very drunk caveman was standing in front of us, blocking our view and splashing beer all over the place. I tapped his shoulder and asked him to move. He said something along the lines of, "Who the fuck is hitting my back?" He turned around, evidently figured out that I was not a small person, and he wandered away, splashing beer as he staggered. No fisticuffs.

    Years later my friends still bring up the "Put-In-Bay Mauler" story.

    Another time I was with some friends at a very crowded tavern in St. Ignace, the northern terminus of the Mackinac Bridge (YooPee, baby!). Not sure, but I may have accidently bumped another caveman. He turned around and shouted, "Take your glasses off so I can punch your ugly face in!". My friend, Bailey, stepped between us and told Fred Flinstone that any punch in my direction would bring Bailey into the battle. I took my glasses off and said, "Go ahead, swing away." He then started repeating, over and over, "Do you know who I am?". He told us he was a member of the Saginaw Gears (minor league hockey team). He wandered away. No fisticuffs.

    So, the throbbing brian of Cyburbia is asking: "What? No fisticuffs from the Bear?"

    I was a sophomore in high school. My cute senior girlfriend, Doreen , had recently left me for a dude her own age. Even though he "won" the girl he still made it a point to deliberately bump into me in the hall. We exchanged words and he said he would be driving out on Saturday to my Shoreland neighborhood (across the Ottawa River from Toledo's Point Place neighborhood). I was scared shitless. He arrived after dark and we squared off under a Shoreland street light. we danced around in circles for a few minutes and finally moved in to start throwing punches. He used his right arm to swing toward my face but I countered by moving my head and smashing his nose with my left fist. Blood squirted from his nose and he fell to the ground, holding his now-red schnoz. (His nose was broken!) Doreen walked over to me, called me a choice name, and hit me in the face.....hard! Damn, that hurt......but no blood, no broken nose.

    The following Monday in school my pals asked the caveman why his nose was bandaged. His response: "Ran into a door."

    Within a few days, Doreen dumped the caveman and asked me out. Eventually my first-ever sexual experiences would follow. Told you....I'm a "lover", not a "fighter".

    Bear
    Occupy Cyburbia!

  3. #53
    Cyburbian Plus Zoning Goddess's avatar
    Registered
    Sep 1999
    Location
    400 miles from Orlando
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    Quote Originally posted by Mastiff View post
    First, there are planners here from the south, including one who got his education in the south... namely, me. When someone illegitimately degrades where I lived, went to school, raised kids, and worked for years, I'll argue if it's necessary. The two words in that last sentence are the only reason we disagree, because not all slights are true, and not everything is worth defending.

    If someone says Arkansas is 49th in education and that's lousy, what defense is there? It's true. Conversely, if someone were to make a blanket statement that everyone from the state was an idiot, I'd point out a two term POTUS and some little companies like Wal-Mart, Tyson Chicken, JB Hunt, and the millions they've made.

    Your problem isn't that you defend the south, or Florida, or the town where you live. It's that you will perceive a slight where one may not exist simply because someone is discussing a region. I've seen you do it. I saw you do it twice last week. So when you vigorously defend against an non-existent attack, it's akin to Don Quixote tilting at a windmill. If I'm to be classified as an "ass" by you for pointing this out, so be it.
    Sorry you feel that way. But you're gonna think what you're gonna think.

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