Another mass shooting.
Another prayer vigil.
We're up to two a day, for those of you keeping score.
Now I can see the tension between political ideologies because it has been the American Way of Life since I was born.
And I'm old now.
But when did mere disagreement manifest into something evil?
Disagree?
"Hang Mike Pence!"
Idiots.
And still people wait in lines forever to get into this country.
Any man that would hit a woman has forfeited their own humanity and shouldn't be counted on the census. I get incensed when I even hear of it.
It was Saint Patrick's Day at a big Irish pub and I was slamming down shots of Old Bushmills and pints of Guiness.
I was shooting nine-ball with a couple other drunks (I'm including myself) and we were standing at the big front window of the bar when a white pickup truck with flames that were obviously hand-painted on the sides screeched to a stop in front of a couple girls that were feeling no pain as they stumbled over the words to Dear Old Donegal.
The three of us watched in amused silence as a big guy jumped out of the cab and promptly fell flat on his face. This made the three of us crack up and the girls were also now laughing.
The guy got up, and without saying a word, he rears back and hits the first girl with a haymaker and she dropped to the asphalt parking lot. One of the guys laughed, one of the guys stood there, and I was out the door.
I know I sound all heroic and all, but I am not the hero-guy. All I could see in that split-second was the look my big brother would have given me if I were to do nothing, so I was out the door before I even realized it.
"Hey fuckhead! You want to try and hit me like that?"
I must have been out of my gourd because this was a big character.
But I was half in the bag and I couldn't back down now as the crowd had spilled out from the bar.
I remember the old "hit 'em first and hit 'em hard" technique I once saw my big bro utilize in a fight against a much younger, bigger, and stronger opponent. It was over something highly important like a pool game and I thought my hero was about to get his ass kicked.
So Ed calls this guy out and walks out the door.
I remember thinking I might have to jump in if things went south for my brother.
This young badass slams down his shot and followed my brother out the door.
As soon as he went through the door, my brother dropped him like a bad habit.
One punch.
Call it a cheap shot, a sucker-punch, whatever.
I call it victory.
So now this big dumbass starts to move towards me and all of a sudden he stops cold, leaving himself totally exposed.
Little did I know, but evidently I was told that behind me, as soon as this goon started at me, a whole bunch of now-brave drunks moved forward, causing him to freeze.
I didn't know this was going on, I just thought I caught a lucky break when Big Boy froze in his tracks.
I reared back from every fight I ever lost and hit him square on the nose, breaking it, and causing blood to spill all over the parking lot.
I broke my pinky finger, but I didn't feel it.
I went over to help the girl up, and she said, "Get your hands off me you filthy Mexican. We're going home and get a gun."
As they sped away, I thought.
How charming.
Stay well.
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