Wanna speak into the mic, I’ve got a back up right here: Best Ever Ass Kicking Story

8 Jul

How does your fist feel, bitch?

Alright you wanna be tough guys and butch girls, this weeks blog is for YOU! I want to hear about the roughest toughest fist throwing, hair pulling, nut kicking events you can think of. This story can involve you or someone you know, but you have to have been there to witness it. I have some great stories of my own and I will share one of them with you, but only briefly because this isn’t about me, it’s about you and your aggression problems. Now start punching the keyboard like you did that bitch in the bar. Ohhhhhhh snap!

Let’s hear about your squabbles – hopefully you won yah big pussy!

  1. Who was involved
  2. What was the reason for the scuffle
  3. Where was it
  4. What was the outcome
  5. Would you do it again

It was Saturday, July 29, 2005 and a whole slew of us were in Atlantic City, NJ for my ex-girlfriends 21st birthday. What was supposed to be an amazing night welcoming her to adulthood quickly took a turn for the worst. Needless to say we were obviously boozing our faces off, but by this point we weren’t out of control. We were just having a good time dancing away in the Casbah, the fucking trash hole it is.

I’m not sure the time, but I assure you it was pretty f’ing late by this point. Natalie and I had been on the dance floor bustin fly moves all night before the shit hit the fan. As I went to spin her in her flowing pink dress, sash and her silver tiara, she casually bumped into a group of cunts girls behind us, who, I don’t know, must have thought that we did it on purpose. Seeing that they were upset I quickly apologized and went back to dancing. Obviously apologies mean nothing to people from the shittiest place on earth, Staten Island. Before you know it we start to feel splashes on our backs, when we turn around we see the three stank ass hoes putting their hands in their drinks and flicking the liquid on us (this is a waist of alcohol and they should be ashamed). Obviously this wasn’t cool, and me, having the short fuse that I have, walk over to the group and whisper in the ear of one of the girls ‘why don’t you and your cunt friends fuck off!? We already said sorry; grow the fuck up.’ Now, I’m not sure if Natalie thought it was them yelling at me, but she quickly ran over, got in the girls face and proceeded to push her hilariously. When I say hilariously, that might be an understatement. I have this vision imprinted in my brain of this little brunette straight gangster fronting on a group of chicks not expecting anything to come of it. She strutted over there, put her hand on each shoulder and just heaved her arms straight out. Wrong thing to do with chicks who live on an island made of garbage. Before her hands even left the girls chest, Nat was on the ground with a group of bitches’ dog piling her. I mean these bitches jumped on her faster than a pile of fake Gucci bags. ZINGGGG

This isn’t sitting well with me, so I start picking up little fake tanned Staten Island dirt balls and chucking them across the bar to get them off. I’m telling you, there were girls FLYING across the bar. I’m pretty sure they were completely horizontal flying through the air (note: I didn’t hit them that would have been so right wrong). Anyway, as I’m doing this, about seven pure douchey SI scum bags decide that this was the day they didn’t care about their perfectly manicured nails, freshly done eye brows and lovely blow-outs, but instead they were going to pretend to be tough guys and jump me all at once. Now, if any of you know me, you know that I am not a small guy and I’m pretty tough to drop. I can also throw a pretty mean fist, but that’s besides the point. Clearly they didn’t know this. As they all jump me, I put my hands over my head to protect myself and every time I saw an opening I would swing – connecting with two or three of them (dropping them instantly). It was glorious: there was hair gel and fake tanner flying everywhere.

By the time the bouncers got involved we had already been robbed (Nat’s purse, phone, my chain etc) since a lot of our stuff ended up on the ground during the tussle. Luckily I suffered no real damage; a few scratches, but nothing serious. However, Natalie suffered severe hair loss, a black eye a fat lip and a seriously bruised ego. This wasn’t the bad part though. One of the dudes, who apparently wanted to blind side me, hit Natalie’s sister dead in the face shattering her nose… she later had reconstructive surgery. What a cock sucker.

After we were escorted out, myself and a friend, Elliot went looking for the guys since I was pumping full of adrenaline. Bad idea, before we could even get down the escalator to throw down again we were both detained by the cops. Fortunately for me, I was let go. Elliot however was held in jail for two days. Shit was so intense he had to get a Private Eye to help out.

Pretty much it was a way bad ass fight that escalated too fast and for no real reason. Not saying it’s the best story ever, but the drama that unfolded was definitely one of a kind. Law suites, plastic surgery, etc.

What still gets me is that we were there with about fifteen people. How many of them do you think helped? NONE!!! Not one person (besides Elliot afterwards) helped even though they can tell me what happened play by play like a god damn sports announcer. Good friends, eh?

This story could have been so much longer, but you don’t want to read a shit load about me, you want to write a shit load about yourself. I get it, you’re selfish. It’s cool.

Give it a go. Beat that story.


4 Responses to “Wanna speak into the mic, I’ve got a back up right here: Best Ever Ass Kicking Story”

  1. Natty 07/15/2009 at 9:58 PM #

    It was a night to remember that most probably don’t recall and many even regret. It was like prom night all over except way more trashy and we were a few years older. Some could not walk, some were sharing fluids in the bathrooms; and I definitely recall a girl at my table who didn’t only eat her plate of food, her dates plate, but she also ate off everyone’s plate in a 5 foot radius of her.
    Anyway my ex-boyfriend who some of you may know, (yours truly, Adam) and I had a great time! We danced, we sang, I stole his tie, as I always did, although this time subconsciously something was different about the tie/ white sparkly dress combination. As the music ended and we were brutally forced out of the shit hole we were in, I remember dodging the puke that was running down the walls of the staircase when I heard some “steroid taking, short frat wanna be” (a pledge) call out some angry words to the biggest guy he saw, Adam. I admit after the first few threats Adam was still pretty calm and he even offered a few words of encouragement for the dumb kid. I thought everything was settled.
    I was wrong! As we stepped off the yellow cheese that brought us to and fro this classy establishment, the kid remained waiting for us still running his mouth as we stepped off the bus. At this point I was worried for the boy because I figured if Adam flipped it was going to be BAD! I did not want to imagine the ass whooping the drunk moron was going to endure, after all I have witnessed and sometimes even caused Adam to punch/break many things; including denting a steel wall and causing perforations to numerous walls.
    Back to the story, both shirts were ripped off, I was now wearing the tie and the shirt, but then he hands me his watch. I suddenly felt really bad for what was about to happen to this kid so I pondered… then I stepped up to the plate and punched him first. My fist was well protected by Adam’s watch that was protecting my knuckles, of course. I don’t even know where I learned that trick! I think jaws dropped and a few things were said like, “hahaha you were punched by a girl pussy!” and “I’m gonna fucking kill your girl!” Opps, I thought to myself.
    I looked at Adam and he stared back at me in amazement – probably thinking, “what the hell are/ were you thinking, Nat!” But, Adam was not about to let this be over… meaning he was not about to let his girlfriend throw the punches. Sooo, yes, as the frat boy raised his fist yelling mean things to me, Adam whaled him, knocking him out cold with his ogre paws, (that’s for you Cheong) a punch straight to the mouth. As I looked down at the kid lying face down in a soggy puddle I could not believe I actually thought I was going to help the situation by punching him first.
    “Oh man”, we thought as we walked home kinda laughing about it. The next day, we found out “Adam” chipped his front tooth and turned another one in a 180 degree circle! We also found out that as we walked away this poor schmuck was arrested and thrown in a drunk-tank. I guess since he was stumbling around with a concussion the cops thought he was just a dumb drunk frat boy that needed to be taught a lesson. I still wonder if it was actually me who caused some of that dental damage… (haha) but, I’ll let Adam have the glory.

  2. B 07/09/2009 at 4:20 AM #

    Once upon a time I strayed from my typical white-boy, suburbia-self and rocked a sweet pair of timberland boots (the ex bought them). They earned me the name “boots” from a couple of buddies. Now that I think about it, fuck these things were ugly!
    Flash forward a couple years and these things were still kicking, literally!
    To help me through university (sustain my heavy drinking habit), I got a bartending gig downtown Montreal. Working nights all the time meant that any chance I got to go out and party my face off, Montreal, look out! One night, after many unnecessary bottles of shitty vodka, I cut myself off and hopped in a cab… I wasn’t living in the nicest part of Montreal so when I got out of my taxi and paid up, the real fun began.
    As I stumbled out of the cab and was putting my change in my wallet, I noticed two decent sized dudes walkin towards me but didn’t think much of it. Just as we were about to cross paths, the one dude yelled “now”, as his buddy proceeded to drop his shoulder into me, knocking my wallet and change to the ground. I was in the midst of my first mugging… or so these bitches thought.
    I quickly pushed the cock gobblin who hits like Alexander Semin outta the way briefly, as his bitch of a friend was grabbin my belongings off the ground. Thank god for these BOOTS!!! These things were huge clunkers so, while picking up my change, bitch number two’s face met my right boot right between the eyes. LIGHTS OUT!
    Onto Semin.
    For those of you that are wondering about this Semin reference, see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VDRCpN4OMpM
    As his greedy little prick friend lay out cold on the sidewalk, Semin had that look on his face like “what the fuck do I do now?” One thing my days playing hockey taught me was the good ole jersey move. This comes as instinct to me now in any street fight and this one was no different. After taking a couple solid shots of my own, I proceeded with the jersey. With his shirt over his head I proceeded to clock him between the eyes. 4 or 5 punches later, my drunk ass has a hard time remembering, this guy was lying down right next to his friend.
    With nothing more than a fat lip, I grabbed my wallet and a couple $5 bills and walked my ass home. When I think back to that beating, I know I’m lucky as shit that these guys were probably just as drunk as me, but thank god for those goddamn boots!

  3. Aceezee 07/08/2009 at 8:01 PM #

    i kicked this guy Schreibers’ ass so bad one night he had to move to New York just to cope with his loss.

    • Adam Schreiber 07/09/2009 at 5:21 AM #

      Cheong weighs 130 lbs soaking wet. He couldn’t beat his dick.

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