I really fucking wish you would get ripped apart by rabid seagulls. Every single fucking time you post here, you babble shit that no one gives a fuck about. What I said was sarcasm, but apparently you are too much of a fucking moron to comprehend that. When you say "that much of a badass," does that mean you actually think that you ARE a badass? Because in reality you are a plague on society. For my sake, and the rest of the world's sake, I hope someone decides to get violent on you. Also, I find it really amusing that you voiced that Milly was a guy, but yet you "don't know who he is."
I was at a bar one time and these guys started talking mad shit to my friend. "Queer", "I bet he eats dick sandwiches!" That's right when I had to jump in to defend my friend. I said, "You see, there's no way he likes dick sandwiches, he doesn't like bread."
One of the first nights I partied with my best friend, we went to a party at the apartment next door to his (this was in 2005 or early 2006). When we knocked, a guy in a Red Sox hat answered the door and immediately started being a dick to my buddy. I thought nothing of it and went to the porch to grab a beer. Red Sox comes out back and immediately starts talking shit to me and my friend, so my buddy spouted off something about how he liked the guy's new Red Sox hat and asked him if he bought it right after they won the World Series and I asked him if the B stood for bandwagon. This set Red Sox off, and he immediately started saying how if there was going to be a problem he could easily get "20 black people over" really soon for a fight. I informed him that I grew up in the town and knew far worse and more dangerous people than he did, and that if he wanted to fight we could do it like men, one on one. He decided to be a real bad ass and try the trick from the movies where you break a beer bottle and use it as a weapon. Yeah, they don't really break like that in real life, so he ended up slicing open his hand and calling an ambulance. Thankfully there was no fight, no shanking with a beer bottle, and no cops, but I had already handed over my cell phone and was ready for one, all over a Red Sox hat.
Miraculously on topic: I was at a bar (surprise) with a guy from work a few years back. I don't remember why, but I wasn't in the best mood that night. As I was drinking my beer and talking, someone kept bumping my arm from behind, once, twice, thrice . . . so I only half turned around and said "You want to watch what the hell you're doing?". At which point a deep voice, made deeper and gravelly by too many cigarettes replied "You got a fucking problem?" I turned around and there was a Hells Angel - or their equivalent in these parts - looking like he wanted to tear my head off. I babbled something about not wanting any trouble, just looking to drink my beer, etc. and relocated to a different part of the bar, where my elbow would no longer be in his way.
Back in December I left one job for another. I have never been so relieved before to hand someone a two week's notice (more like walking into the office and saying "I quit.") and move on, but at the same time I wanted terribly to give them back some of the shit that I dealt with while on the job. It wasn't bad when I started, but the deeper and more involved I got, the more it sucked... until I was miserable on the job and off as a result. They didn't always play by the rules and while it didn't amount to much, I could have let the IRS know about it and then they would have some sweating to do. I didn't have the greatest evidence, but I was feeling extremely vindictive. However, it would have meant opening one helluva shitty can of worms and probably causing more trouble than it was worth. They're already having enough fun with their problems as it is. Sitting back and watching them self-destruct is enough for me. Besides, two weeks after quitting, I was back home for winter break and spent a week in Illinois hunting and drinking with family (not together) and then I was in Brazil for two weeks. That's some pretty damn good therapy.
Just a couple weeks ago the fiance & I were walking to our local Italian joint for dinner. They charge a real cheap corkage fee so we always bring a bottle of wine with us, as its cheaper than buying a couple glasses while we're there. Walking across a 4-way stop, in the middle of the crosswalk we see some shitbag in his Mercedes stop across the way, and start to drive through the intersection. Thinking he would eventually stop when he saw us, we kept walking. Asshole was texting on his cell phone, and only at the very last second does he look up, see us scurrying to get out of his way, slams on the brakes, swerves to miss us and stops. We make eye contact and tell him to go fuck himself. He just sits there, almost in shock. I swear I was less than 2 seconds from putting a bottle of Pinot right into his fucking hood. Instead I just flipped him off, turned and kept going to dinner. I doubt he would have went to the cops after illegally texting and almost hitting 2 pedestrians, but I just sort of froze and didn't get really angry until after he had pulled away. Plus, it was a really good bottle of Pinot.
This one time, in Egypt... Getting to Tahrir Square from my dorm is a very short ride via taxi. It usually costs about LE 6 (about $1.10). So one day a couple of months back, I hopped in a taxi to go to Tahrir. My mistake was to do this accompanied by two white girls. The trip was fairly uneventful. However, when I hopped out, the cab driver - old guy with a white mustache, and could stand to lose a few pounds - starts yelling about how I owe him LE 25. I have a principle that I never want to get taken in by tourist prices, especially when I have lived in the country for a couple of months. So I ignore the guy and start crossing the streets with my friends. Well, the guy must have been a little unbalanced, because I get spun around about halfway across the street and find this old Egyptian man literally in my face, yelling in Arabic and jabbing me in the chest. I'm 5'3", 135 lbs, so he's got the advantage on me, but he's really pushing my buttons. At this point, other cab drivers are getting out of their cabs to see what's up. Fortunately for me, I decided to just yell at him in Arabic (something along the lines of "Hey man!" - I'm bad at Arabic swearing), turn around and storm off, hoping he didn't follow. He didn't. Good thing too - I really wasn't looking forward to standing around in the middle of the street any longer - could have gotten hit by a car any minute.
I've never been in a fight, and my friends haven't either. It's really surprising considering the amount of shit a few of my friends say while drunk. Also I think the laws need to be changed regarding law suits, too many people talk shit and get away with it because they know more than likely they won't get punched in the face. Focus Situation 1: During one of my first dates, we walked by an isolated part of downtown that had a club with a few bystanders hanging out the back. They said something to my date and she responded with something pertaining to them being retarded. Que two or three of them following us while saying stuff about my manhood and how she was a bitch. Luckily we only had to walk by a few more buildings before we got to a more populated area because the only move I was contemplating was telling her to get help while I stayed and got my ass kicked. Situation 2: I was trying to hook up with this girl I just met at the bar. We were outside near the patio when some guy starts talking with her. She eventually tells him to get lost and that he is an idiot. But the guy keeps lingering and soon enough they start arguing. So I move between them and tell him that she is clearly not interested. Well he starts asking me what I'm going to do about it. I think I just smiled at him and said nothing. We were about the same size and I figured I could hold my own. AND MEAN WHILE, this girl is still right next to me talking shit to him. His buddies come over and tell him it's not worth it, and I drag the girl away citing I'll buy her a drink to shut her up. Fucking girls.
Focus- I moved back home several months ago, switching from a free university gym to a local commercial gym...that is still free. (I walk in with a friend who has a membership) At first, I was seriously annoyed that at any given time, the dumbells would all be in the wrong racks. 30 pounders where the 15 pounders should go, 15 pounders where the 45 pounders should go, etc. Just a real cluster-fuck, and what's worse, when I have to put mine back, I'm forced to compound the problem. I used to stare and ask the guys why they didn't put them back in the proper spot, especially when it's open, to which they would just shrug and say "aww man, I'll put them back later". Now, I've just given up. I mean, at least they're paying customers, unlike some people. Anti-Focus- What I will not put up with is the lazy fucking Mexican who vacuums the floor gym over an hour before closing time, when I'm exercising on it. I will tell him to move the fuck out of the way, and to do that portion of the floor later. Similarly, when I'm eating at a simple place well before closing time, and some idiot starts spraying the near-by tables and sweeping the floor right next to me, I tell her to stop. Incredibly, most people don't have a problem with this. I once watched an Indian family eating at Whole Foods while some cunt actually sprayed chemicals ON THEIR TABLE while they were chowing down. Story- When I was a freshman in college, there was a super-muscular, scary-looking fellow Russian junior named Andrey with a shaved head and tattoos, who was known for pumping steroids and occasionally doing coke. My college had a problem with random intruders, and Andrey made it a civic duty to post to my dorm's mailing list; "People at this university are a bunch of fucking pussies. If you see someone you don't know, ask them who the fuck they are, and what their business is!" I was inspired by this e-mail. A few days later, I was walking to the dorms, and noticed an older man with his dog. I had never seen him before, and he clearly wasn't an undergraduate, especially since we're not allowed to have pets. Time to put Andrey's advice to practice! "HEY, who are you?!" "I...uh..." "WHO are you?! WHAT are you doing here?" The guy looks confused, maybe a little scared, and mumbles something sheepishly that I didn't hear. "I asked you a QUESTION!?" "I uh...live here?!" Then, hands shaking slightly, the guy reaches for his keys. He then takes a few steps and unlocks the RA's apartment. Oops.