Saturday, September 09, 2006


Bar fight

In America I hate bars. I never want to go to bars because I am afraid of people that go to bars. Let’s pretend for a moment that we are all out at a bar and some no neck Abercrombie Rugby shirt wearing frat guys decide they want to pick a fight. What role would you play in the fight? Here is what I think will happen.

Me: I will get very excited at first, then I will get a huge stomach ache, vacate my bowels and fall to the ground in embarrassment and pleasure... ecstasy really.

Mark: Marks patented creepy touch maneuver will serve only to excite the baddies even more and once they throw mark through a plate glass window like a Muppet, they will turn their attention back to us.

Strulson: who had just revealed that his tinglies are back in his jinglies, will confuse the dumb predators by openly staring and poking... himself.

Jake: Will take this moment to snap a few pictures of a tiny bird that somehow found his way into the bar. (This gentle creature out of its calm natural environment is well worth 12+ comments in the "gentle creature out of its natural environment" flickr group). Unfortunately the flash puts the group of no-necks into a blind rage state and the next few pictures Jake takes are a flurry of fists and blood and teeth and a kitten.

Eric: Stands up to do his part... hits his head on the ceiling fan... is whipped around a few times and then thrown into a fully recovered and creepily charging Mark. The two then fall into my feces and I again enter a state of pure sexual rapture.

Chris: Hides under a table... standing.

Grossnickle: Uses her womanly advantage stuns the charging orc-minded herd by flashing them (Mark enters a state of pure sexual rapture). The herd quickly recovers because they remember how just last night they oiled each other up and re-enacted selected scenes from the transporter. Each discovering that they, infact, were pinkish. Take out their rage and confusion by pummeling poor Steph into a million pieces.

Strulson: still staring and poking.

I say this because I have met so many people in Kawanoe whom could turn the tide for us in this fight. Just last night I met the second best fighter in a certain type of Karate... in the world! He was beaten by one Mongolian guy. The best part is he was a super nice guy... and totally lop sup doi. Just five minutes before I learned this he grabbed my balls and then screamed to his group that I wasn't that much bigger than him. After I learned this he spent the rest of the night hitting on a chubby girl. So to the sack grabbing, chubby chic fondling, karate masters/surgeons out there please join my team... we need it.

poke poke.

Man Craig after all those nights we spent "wrestling" in Yardley I would think you'd have a little more faith in me. Oh well this bar fight thing sounds fun we should all try it sometime, I can see the headlines now "Bar Bedlam!!!, with lots o' defecation" or maybe it would be " A fight to the feces" not sure I can't see the future.
Hahaha. A fight to the feces. How about an old-fashioned dungfest, world war #2, or the rumble in the grundle?
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