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One night I had to escort an unruly customer out of the bar I worked in. So I lock him up and start walking him out the door. Well his wife and mother-in-law aren't too happy about it. The wife jumps on my back and starts punching me in the back of my head while the mother-in-law is throwing glasses at me.Apparently, the wife hit me around 30 times.Some days I miss working in bars.

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After all that, I was fired from my job because he reported mlso had to pay the restitution on his hospital bill that his insurance didn't cover.
Yeah, but carwashes suck and you totally warned him. So I've been in a number of sparring matches for TKD, do they count?
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OK, I have a good one. I'm going to add some fictional dialogue for flavor, but the story is true.So dms, renaedawn, pupsta, ozzy (Ren's husband), david_nicoson(my husband), tall0n, poguemahone, dna, pupsamazingwife, ( is that everybody?) were in my hotel room last weekend and I said, ok, we have to have the pillowfight now. Renae thinks I'm joking so I just take off my clothes down to my new pink VS bra and really cute black and pink panties. I pick up my pillow.Renae and Ang (pupsmamazing wife) follow suit and we start jumping on the kingsized bed hitting each other with pillows. I say, "Dustin (dms) it's your turn to tag in!" and he grabs a pillow and starts pounding us. Renae said, "I didn't come all the way to Vegas to see Dustin pillowfight with his shirt on!" So she and I grab his shirt and wrestle it off of him. Then Dustin says, "Ok, bitches, it's ON!" and he proceeds to take control of the action like a berserker or something. After that I decide that Norm (tall0n) needs to tag in because Dustin is just too much to for us girls to handle. Well, I totally underestimated the power of Norm. When I hit him with the pillow, I spilled his drink. That was a BIG mistake. I was beaten mercilessly with the pillow and the girls were hitting Norm trying to save me, but then it just broke down into totally pandemonium. Renae was hitting Dave and I was hitting Michael (pogue) who was so drunk he couldn't fight back. Alan (DNA) was laughing to hard too be a real opponent but he tried and the whole time he just kept saying, "I love my life. This is so awesome!"After that I made out with the girls and called the match a success. We were all winners that day.OK, so the only dialogue I added was Dustin calling us bitches. He's way too much of a gentleman to call his angels names.

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Last year at a bar in Boston I spilled my drink on some tool when a girl bumped into me and even though I immediately apologized the ****ing douchebag pushes me. I stumbled back into this girl who was 4 foot nothin and she falls forward into a table full of people. I wound up and clocked the idiot in the face and before he could even get a punch in I got tackled by bouncers. One of the bouncers, this huge ************ (6'5" 250 at least) gets me in a full nelson and carries me towards the exit. Unfortunately this club was on the second floor and there was a steep flight of stairs to go down to get outside. As I'm getting carried down the stairs I'm kicking my legs in every direction, struggling to get out of this idiots hold and he decides to just let me go... and naturally this causes me to fall down the remaining 2/3's of the staircase. Instead of helping me up off the foyer floor the bouncers pick me up again... carry me out the door and throw me head first into a parked cab in front of the bar. I'm bleeding from my head and I after a good 10 seconds I collect myself, open the cab door, get in the backseat and say: "drive".Crappy night.20 minutes later I get a call from my buddy Frank... they were in the back section of the bar at a table full of girls having a great time. "Dude what did you fall in? (I was on my way to the mens room when this occured) Your beer is sittin over here sweatin I'm about to drink it for you." I was halfway home at this point and I just hung up.

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Crappy night.20 minutes later I get a call from my buddy Frank... they were in the back section of the bar at a table full of girls having a great time. "Dude what did you fall in? (I was on my way to the mens room when this occured) Your beer is sittin over here sweatin I'm about to drink it for you." I was halfway home at this point and I just hung up.
Did your friend call back again or did he think you were abducted by Aliens or something?
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Did your friend call back again or did he think you were abducted by Aliens or something?
I could barely hear him.. he was screaming into his phone (loud music...bar sounds etc) so I wasn't about to tell him the story right then. Heres how the conversation would've went:"Dude you won't ****ing believe this... (continue to tell story)""Wait... WHAT?!? I can't hear you dude... you pushed some girl into a table? What?"This was about 45 minutes before closing... so I think they just assumed I found other people I knew or some chick or whatever. He called me when the bar emptied out and I was nowhere to be found... then I told him the story. It was a group of people, not just my buddy Frank... so its not like he was sitting back there all alone.
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Good stuff angels
Thank you. It was good times. I might have had a good 'fight with nudey bar bouncer story' to tell from the Vegas trip, too, but I was gently escorted out by my friends before anything bad went down. Also good times.
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Summer after my Freshman year, I was playing JV baseball against our archrivals, and a kid on our team got brushed back pretty hard. When I took the mound in the 4th, I threw the first pitch behind the opposing starting pitcher. Both benches were warned.Someone got plunked in the bottom of the inning, and we plunked back in the top of the 5th.Everything was fine, until coach noticed the kid in the on deck circle before the inning creeping closer and closer to the plate, timing the pitcher who replaced me. I was standing at Third Base. Anyway, pitcher gets the "You know what to do" nod, and fires his last warmup pitch right at the kid waiting to come to the plate, nailing him in the ribs.Benches clear immediately, and I enter the fray. I take one swing at a kid I've always hated (Brutus Beefcake, I called him), and landed a solid right do the jaw. I then lost my balance, fell over, and proceeded to curl up into a ball while players from each team trampled all over me for the next few minutes. I still have a scar on my right hand from a spike driven into my right middle finger. Everyone else on both sides exchanged blows and wrestled and headlocked for the next 5 minutes, and I rolled around on the ground, absorbing the occassional kick (half of them from teammates), and missing all the action.Oh, and the one punch I threw ****ed my hand all up, and I missed 2 weeks of baseball. No one else on either team was injured.Wang

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Oh, and the one punch I threw ****ed my hand all up, and I missed 2 weeks of baseball. No one else on either team was injured.Wang
I assume it was worth the injured hand to get a shot at that Brutus dude.
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I assume it was worth the injured hand to get a shot at that Brutus dude.
I like to think I'm better than that, but... it felt so good to hit that stupid baboon right in his stupid harder-than-granite monkey face.I don't remember this, but more than one person claimed right before I hit him, I said, "Eat a dick, you dickeater." Not my finest work, I'll admit, but it has a certain charm I wouldn't trade for the world.Wang
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I like to think I'm better than that, but... it felt so good to hit that stupid baboon right in his stupid harder-than-granite monkey face.I don't remember this, but more than one person claimed right before I hit him, I said, "Eat a dick, you dickeater." Not my finest work, I'll admit, but it has a certain charm I wouldn't trade for the world.Wang
I like it! :club::D
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now i can finally place wang in my head under an image. that little bitch kid who breaks his arm like 4 times a year. yea you know that kid went to your school too.
Oh, **** off. That kid at my highschool was Geno. He tried to fight someone during a backyard football game, so when Geno rushed the guy, he just picked Geno up, and dropped him. Somehow, he broke his arm in 2 places. The very next time he played football, he ran face-first into a wood-slat fence and demolished his nose and collarbone. I don't know how he did both at the same time. I've broken plenty of fingers and toes, but those don't count. I'm going to kill you, Ron. I'm going to kill you so hard.Wang
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I like to think I'm better than that, but... it felt so good to hit that stupid baboon right in his stupid harder-than-granite monkey face.I don't remember this, but more than one person claimed right before I hit him, I said, "Eat a dick, you dickeater." Not my finest work, I'll admit, but it has a certain charm I wouldn't trade for the world.Wang
Nah dude that is a solid 8 right there. In context it's fantastic. I played in HS as well, so I can just see the pent up emotion and then all of the sudden you let loose that bomb in the middle of the crowd definitely singling out someone you have wanted to hit for a while.Hahaha
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when i was playing in a league, there was this ****ing douchebag of a pitcher who threw fast as hell and loved to plunk people. the only reason this kid didn't get his ass beat by me or the 300 pound black kid on my team (lovingly referred to as big hungry) was because he only had one arm. the other arm wasnt even at the elbow, i mean this thing hardly even qualified as a stub. it was pretty amazing to see him pitch, as he would tuck his glove between his ribs and his stubsicle then right after his delivery, shove his pitching hand in the glove in case someone was to hit a pop up.but yeah anyways, dont fall in love with the kid just yet, hes a big douche. i mean he totally played that thing up. anyways getting back to the point the kid plunks me twice in a game and i seriously think about beating his ass, then decide that it is a bit of a lose/lose situation. i mean if i kick his ass, im the kid that beat up the cripple. now ive been called a lot of things, but id prefer that stay off the list. even worse, if i lose, i just got my ass kicked my a kid with 25% less limbs functioning, and thats never good for the old rep.just realized how long of a story that is. and that it has no ending. or climax. or rising or falling action. or punchline. wow. im not even sure its funny.p.s. funny(maybe, my confidence in my funny-scale is rather shaken right now) side note:there was this kid on our team who was probably legally mentally handicapped, who after seeing stubby strike out another of our batters, yells (in thick kentucky accent) "man that kid has an arm". i then looked around for someone else to acknowledge what may have been the accidentally funniest thing i had ever heard, and realize everyone else was either a) just tuning this kid out by now, or B) nodding in agreement saying some variation of "yeah man, dang." i almost shit myself.

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I knew Dave would have a good one. I was also hoping Wang would make up a funny one.
Nobody believes anything I say. I think this is comforting on some level. And not nearly as insulting as I would've imagined, if I'd taken to imagining things like "I wonder how I'd feel if people on a random internet message board thought the stories I told were interesting, but completely fabricated." I imagined I would have predicted I'd feel "a little irked, and mildly defensive" but my reaction would be best described as "clinically amused; oh, and not snarky."So. Wang
mean if i kick his ass, im the kid that beat up the cripple. now ive been called a lot of things, but id prefer that stay off the list. even worse, if i lose, i just got my ass kicked my a kid with 25% less limbs functioning, and thats never good for the old rep.
If you whooped his ass, though, you could've just been like "Nobody ****s with Ron. I don't even care if you're handicapped, or small, or a girl. I'll whoop yo' ass."Wang
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when i was playing in a league, there was this ****ing douchebag of a pitcher who threw fast as hell and loved to plunk people. the only reason this kid didn't get his ass beat by me or the 300 pound black kid on my team (lovingly referred to as big hungry) was because he only had one arm. the other arm wasnt even at the elbow, i mean this thing hardly even qualified as a stub. it was pretty amazing to see him pitch, as he would tuck his glove between his ribs and his stubsicle then right after his delivery, shove his pitching hand in the glove in case someone was to hit a pop up.but yeah anyways, dont fall in love with the kid just yet, hes a big douche. i mean he totally played that thing up. anyways getting back to the point the kid plunks me twice in a game and i seriously think about beating his ass, then decide that it is a bit of a lose/lose situation. i mean if i kick his ass, im the kid that beat up the cripple. now ive been called a lot of things, but id prefer that stay off the list. even worse, if i lose, i just got my ass kicked my a kid with 25% less limbs functioning, and thats never good for the old rep.just realized how long of a story that is. and that it has no ending. or climax. or rising or falling action. or punchline. wow. im not even sure its funny.p.s. funny(maybe, my confidence in my funny-scale is rather shaken right now) side note:there was this kid on our team who was probably legally mentally handicapped, who after seeing stubby strike out another of our batters, yells (in thick kentucky accent) "man that kid has an arm". i then looked around for someone else to acknowledge what may have been the accidentally funniest thing i had ever heard, and realize everyone else was either a) just tuning this kid out by now, or B) nodding in agreement saying some variation of "yeah man, dang." i almost shit myself.
LOL. Big Hungry. Who in the army can we give that name too? OOOOH, Ron Mexico!!!! Oh, he'll be sooo pissed.That arm comment was good stuff.
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If you whooped his ass, though, you could've just been like "Nobody ****s with Ron. I don't even care if you're handicapped, or small, or a girl. I'll whoop yo' ass."Wang
yea or that little punk ass bitch who keeps going around trying to get people to sign his cast...
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