We've all been there at some point in our lives. Something happens to you, your friend, or to some random guy in front of you that's just fucked up. And you just walked away. Call it picking your battles, being the bigger man, or just pussing out, but you decided that correcting that wrong wasn't worth the hassle. Focus: When have you walked away from something that you knew was wrong but wasn't worth correcting? Do you stand by your decision, or do you wish you had a do-over? Anti-focus: When has your dumb belligerent ass gotten in over your head over something retarded?
OK guys, here is an A-number-1 thread to whip out your e-peens and show us how large and manly they are. Defend your honor, or talk about your, uh, strategic retreats! I fully expect the e-testosterone level in this thread to be over 9000.
One time I was out to dinner with my girlfriend at the time and she stole my last french fry off my plate. Not only was it the last fry, but it was also this magnificently perfect extra long fry I had been saving for last. I was about to pull out my "whoa bitch! back hand" but I stopped myself, buried all the hurt and anger down deep knowing I'd retrieve it later when I accidently tried to fuck her in the ass. Don't call me a hero or gentleman. I'm just a guy that loves fries.
Once I was at my girlfriend's apartment staying over and got up to take a piss around 2 AM. I peed in the dark, using the sound of the pee hitting the water as my guide. (Any guy sees the fallacy of my logic). I assumed I hit my mark but probably did hit the seat a little bit, but went back to bed without wiping it down. My girlfriend got up for work around 7 and went in and sat down to do her thing. I heard her yell from the bathroom about how disgusting I am and she was pissed (excuse the pun) the rest of the day.
Im 5'5, 165lbs, Ive been in two fights and lost them both.* Ive walked away from every other fight that Ive ever faced. Honestly, even when shit house drunk Im not confident enough in my ability to fight to do anything, except my first fight and that didnt turn out well, read below. Hows that for e-penile flexing? There have been countless situations where people have tried to push me into a fight. Sometimes I talked too much shit, sometimes (read: most) some fragile egoed limp dick wanted to feel tough when they thought they had the clear height/weight advantage. Normally I don't get butthurt about my manhood when some idiot thinks Im an easy target it's easy to brush it off. The worst is when they specifically do it because am at a party/bar with a girl and they will pull some egregious shit because someone else they think they can take in a fight is going to get laid and they aren't. Trust me the male ego can be that fragile. Usually I feel like a chump but out of the half dozen times it's happened I don't think any of the girls I was with recognized the gorilla chest thumping that was taking place before I could brush it off or diffuse the situation. I also don't think there is such a thing as "short man syndrome." In reality it is just a normal male ego that has a higher than average amounts of challenges too it. Trust me if a 250 6'3 line backer had as many challenges to his ego that a short guy did, youd see just as many big guys fighting as you do short guys. * Ive been in two fights that Ive started. The first, I was hammered and tried fighting a guy from my dorm at a house party he had. Four or five of his friends jumped me and kicked the shit out of me. The second was a few days later with the same guy to clear up the whole situation. He tackled me and gave me four straight shots to the temple, I was humbled and had vertigo for weeks. We became friends after that but he ended up dying of a drug OD on spring break the next year. Ive been in the middle of countless fights my friends have started, but Ive always been the one trying to pull people off each other and break shit up
I've never backed down from a face to face physical confrontation, but I've never had to. I have, however, refused a call-out to meet some kid at his friend's house to fight. I didn't want to get my ass beat by six guys with popped-collar polos, so I refused. I really hate confrontation, period. Unfortunately, being 5' 8' and 125 pounds with the appearance of a 12-14 year old tends to attract every egotistical cunt over that size. The cocky putdown attempts usually falter after I just laugh and throw sarcasm at them. The attitude of "I don't really care if you can/will beat my ass, I'm not going to sit here and take your attitude in order to prevent it." seems to go a long way. Going a bit off focus here, but I feel like I have an abnormal attitude about getting my ass kicked. Do I want it to happen? Fuck no, but as said above, I won't be a bitch to avoid it. What scares the shit out of me isn't the pain, but the shame of getting my ass kicked without doing some damage of my own.
Both of these are at work: FOCUS: Every damn day. I generally apply the rule that "it is better to be correct than right". This especially applies when I'm trying to get money out of someone. It's amazing how non-cooperative someone can be when you sit there and prove them wrong. [ADDED FOCUS: I got into an argument with Tucker on the old board, pre-RMMB, when I used the word "spelt", and was called out that it wasn't a word. It follows the same language rules as dreamt. Despite showing that it actually is in the dictionary, and is still considered correct English (in the face of many protests by "American" speaking people), it wasn't accepted. I backed out of that, rather than face permaban. There's another wise old rule that trying to argue in someone else's voice is foolish. ] ANTI-FOCUS: The fight over an interest rate cap (similar to what's going on in the US). I've been in that boots and all for 8 or so years now, and the lines have barely moved. We can't even get people to understand the simple concept that percentage is not a measure of cost (refer below if you want to geek out over it). We're trying to fight an emotive argument against a bunch of tosswads who pretend to want to protect the consumer, but openly admit in private consultation they want the industry wiped out. People are seeing big figures with nothing to relate it back to. There's damn all chance of winning our fight because the government needs sacrificial lambs at the moment. We've effectively evaded the damage by changing industries, but I'm not letting go of it. Sometimes it takes a fanatic to fight a fanatic. Financial explanation: Spoiler A percentage figure by itself means nothing. For example, 50%. It only gains meaning when it is related to a quantity, ie 50% of 100 is 50, 50% of 200 is 100, 50% of 0 is 0. The correct response to "how big is 50%" is "50% of what?". That's the way it gains meaning. Cap proponents here are lobbying for a 48% interest rate cap. They run on emotion that most people consider 48% to be high, especially when they generally relate it to home loan interest rates. However, that's like comparing the speed at which you run the 100m sprint against the speed at which you run the marathon. They're chalk and cheese. To give you an idea of the ridiculousness of the situation: If I lend you $100 for 1 day and charge $1 interest, under the formula that's 365% (Interest charge/principal% x year/term ... or 1/100% x 365/1). Therefore $1 equals 365%. If you look at rates of return, most retail businesses range from 100% to 400% markup on cost to remain viable, and that's for ordinary items. Big ticket stuff can run much higher. 48%, at low levels, is below the cost of provision of the service. When you try to explain this to the average person, their eyes tend to glaze over.
Focus: Girlfriend: Jana is not fat. Me: Uhhh, she's not skinny. I know she's your friend, and I like her too. But let's be honest. She. Is. Fat. Girlfriend: You're a dick. No sex for you tonight. Me: Damn Jana is looking good these days! How much weight as she lost? *I still didn't get sex. I'm still right.*
My experiences as a kid have left me with a very bad taste in my mouth with regard to fighting. I was pretty sensitive as a kid and mostly introverted, so I got picked on a lot because of it. Since I'm also stubborn and don't like to back down I got into my share of fights as a result. I'm also like StayFrosty in that even if I knew I was going to get my ass beat because I was outnumbered or the other kid was much bigger than me I couldn't stand the thought of crawling away like a little bitch so I took my licks. What I really hated though was on the occasions where I won the fight I'd always end up in the principal's office or at someone's house with my parents and his parents and getting a fucking lecture on why fighting was bad and how to "resolve our differences" or some other such bullshit like I was the bad guy; yet when I got my ass beat and adults found out about it the attitude was just "boys being boys". Looking back on it I was too honest and not clever enough for my own good and didn't know how to play the system to my advantage. Because of that I've never gotten into a fight as an adult. For the most part I don't put myself into situations where I'm going to be faced with a fight, but if I do I'll probably just walk away. When the choices are getting your ass kicked or getting charged with assault for kicking someone else's ass you're losing either way.
I am not the fighting type at all. But when I was in college, I hung out with some guys that seemingly picked a fight every time we went out to the bars. One of the guys in the group of 5-6 of us would think someone looked at him funny or something and all hell would break loose. It was embarrassing and frustrating for me, and I got arrested once (all charges ended up getting dropped) because of them. The final straw was when we played in a flag football league. We were all pretty good athletes, but there were teams in the league that had been playing for a lot longer than us and had precise plays that worked every time. We were getting our asses handed to us in one game, and the guys on my team turned it into tackle football. And then it turned into a huge brawl with both teams throwing hay makers. I had enough at that point, and just left. They were pissed at me for leaving them, but I told them I was sick of them fighting all of the time, and that was pretty much the last time I hung out with any of them. Totally wasn't worth it anymore.
I very rarely get publicly angry at people, so the very occasional time it happens, my friends get a little uneasy. So when we were watching a movie and we had an entire row of dicks behind us talking during the movie... for the whole movie ... well, something had to be done. The movie has barely stopped and the posse of dicks were going down the stairs. I got up and said ( loud enough so everyone would hear) : "Yo guys! next time you go to a movie, SHUT THE FUCK UP". I gradually pick up my stuff and one of my friends ( who has never seen me be hostile to anyone) comments on how surprised he is about the whole thing. We exit the theatre room and I head for the bathroom . On the way I notice a group of guys waiting by the snack bar, and sure enough, I see some of those same dudes behind me while washing my hands (hello mirror!), standing around in the bathroom trying real hard not to look like they're looking at me, not washing up or peeing . I exit the bathroom and start warning my friends about something weird going on when one of them goes "Hey you". I turn around to see Bawssdick and his posse. Bawssdick : Are you the one that talked at the end of the movie? Me : Yeah it's me. *cue shock in the posse that i would "admit" to anything* Bawssdick : You wanna say it again to my face ? (bawssdick and posse get real close) Me : Sure, i'dd love to, but you're in my personal space right now, so you need to back off a little *They actually back off a foot or so, so I immediatly get to it* Me : 2 FUCKING HOURS and you guys can't shut up. What are you, retarded ? I just fucking started telling him exactly what was on my mind, to the shock and dismay of Bawssdick and his posse. I got the feeling they're not used to be confronted on their bullshit, and I see the bawss getting angrier and angrier. At one point a guy from the posse starts shouting "what's in your hand there! " thinking I was gonna pull a knife or some shit in a busy movie theatre. Posse starts trying to get physical, and aggressive pushing starts happening outside my vision. I open my hand, and my banged up zippo appears. Me : It's my lighter. You see, me and my friends, we were going out to smoke. You guys are just fucking ridiculous. I can't believe just how tense and ridiculous you are. In fact, I think that's exactly what we're going to do now : get out and have a smoke. You don't like what i'm saying ? then next time you go to a movie, do yourself a favor and just shut the fuck up. By this time, movie theatre management sends a guy to see what's going on, and he holds them long enough that we make our escape. Could things have gotten physical with the pose ? absolutly. Would we have gotten our ass wooped ? While outnumbered, we would have still done some serious damage to the posse ( Me and my friends all have brawling experience. Yay hoods! ) So why fuck with the posse ? Because I had to. And pretty much because defeating them verbally with their own ridiculousness probably hurt them more than wooping their asses.
I have to do observation for my masters. This involves sitting in a classroom for three hours once a week and watching a teacher do his job. One day, during some group work, a few students were having a conversation about evolution. One kid went on a very serious rant about how evolution is bullshit and how he refuses to believe it's true. It took every ounce of self-control not to smack this kid in the face. I had to back down as a future teacher, but his argument was so unfounded, it made me sad for the future.
I don't know who this milly guy is, and i don't think I'm that much of a badass. I go to work, cook, do everything a normal citizen does. Anyone can be pushed past the line, and things occasionally happens then. Getting into a fight is easy. All you gotta do is throw the first punch. But is violence really the answer ? Now that's another discussion.... kinda like the one on topic.
Milly and I were walking down the street one time after nailing twenty chicks a piece (different girls, we don't share that shit, we aren't fags) when thirty ninjas jumped out of trees and started talking shit and calling us cock munchers. Milly was like "Oh no you didn't!" and we jumped in the center of the ninja group and started doing hurricane kicks. When we were done all those bitches were down and I was all like "that's right, you don't fuck with Milly OR his friends you ninja queers!" Then Milly motioned like he was going to give me an ass pat, but quickly switched to a fist bump because ass pats are gay. THE END
Dude that's Busche League. One time Milly and I had just finished nailing all 50 Miss America contestants and we were shot gunning Natty Ice to celebrate when 20 guys from Al Qarea came parachuting down and wanted to fuck with us, but I yelled out, "Yo, don't fuck with Milly, fags." And then Milly flexes big, as he had been at the gym before the orgy, and start knocking out those assholes and swigging his brew at the same time. We went to a bar afterwards to pick up some more Victoria Secret models, and Milly realized he left his Rolex at the fight scene. He said, "Fuck it bro, give me another beer." Ha ha it was so Milly.
Focus: Almost situation involving a reasonable amount of money. I don't have a ton of money, and trust me, money is very important to me. But even then, I refuse to let it be the cause of problems between friends. There are plenty examples of this, but just off the top of my head - splitting checks at dinner, ordering PPV items if you have a roommate, paying the cab when your buddy is passed out drunk next to you, etc. I would just rather pay the couple extra bucks than have it evolve into some sort of contreversy. I have friends (one in particular) who is so tight up about money, and so hell bent on saving every cent that he possibly can regardless of the expense to his friends, that it makes me sick and I honestly feel sorry for him. I could never live with him, but he tried charging his two roommates to the half-cent in order to make an electric bill completely even. I'm not sure how that even works, but it's just an example of his frugality, and determination to fight the money battle to the death. Anti-focus/E-Penile Fortitude Display: Quick background: I was kicked out of college during Freshman orientation, only to re-apply and be re-admitted for the second semester. I was part of the freshman lacrosse recruiting class, and got to meet most of my freshman teammates during my two days of orientation. Story: One of my very first nights back to school I was going over to one of my teammates dorm room, that I barely knew, to hang with a bunch of dudes on the team. It was about 10:30 on a random week night, and when I got to the dorm building it was electronically locked because of the time, so I started pounding on one of the side doors furiously to get somebody to come open it for me. (I didn't have anyone's cell # yet). Not only was I pounding, but the door was slightly loose, so I realized that if I violently throttled the door back and forth by the handle it made a lot of noise. I've always been kind of cocky, and at this point in my life I was fairly certain the world revolved around me, so I was taken aback when the other dorm inhabitants were pissed and annoyed with my obnoxious efforts to get into their building. Leading this charge was a gigantic shaved head dude on the football team (reference - me: 6' 185lbs, him: 6'4 250+ lbs), who let me in then barked things such as "Who the fuck do you think you are banging on my door, and causing all this noise in my dorm?" as I was casually walking down the hall to my buddy's room. Clearly, I was being a jackass, even if I didn't realize it at the time. But this dude was taking it entirely too far, and made it clear he wouldn't stop talking until I was either embarassed or had my ass kicked. Of course, I had to stop, turn around and assess the situation. This guy could destroy me, but I was at least going to jaw back at him up until the point of fisticuffs. An extremely brief exchange occured before a handful of rooms had emptied, including a bunch of my freshman lacrosse teammates who I didn't really know (it was an athletes dorm). Looking around and seeing all my future teammates, as well as a handful of other athlete strangers, I knew that I couldn't back down once the words escalated to the point of "grab your fucking nuts, because it's on - unless you sincerely apologize and walk away NOW." I did a very quick cost/benefit analysis and determined that I might as well get my ass kicked, because I wasn't about to puss out in front of all these people who I would know for four years, and the lax dudes who would likely become my good friends; afterall, this was pretty much their first impression of me. I also knew that I was strong/athletic/experienced enough to atleast be respectable before getting my ass handed to me. Baldy grabbed me with both hands by the collar of my t-shirt (ripping my h.s. state chapion lax shirt - this is still the thing that I remember and pisses me off the most about this altercation), and we grappled for a second, with him eventually throwing me hard against a wall, me smacking my head, and crumpling to the ground. As he came at me with clenched fists, I looked up and saw, through a dizzy haze, all the inquring faces of my future teammates curious as to what my next move would be. Luckily he tossed me down next to a trashcan. So, I got up and grabbed the half full trashcan (one of those big trashcans you take out to your curb), lifted it over my head, and swung it at him. It missed him for the most part, but in the process I knocked two overhead tubular flourescent light bulbs out of their casing which exploded upon hitting the ground, knocked a fire extinguisher off of its wall cradle to the floor, and came dangerously close to a fire alarm set in the wall. This caused everyone, including Baldy, to scurry like cockroaches back to their rooms with unbelievable haste (I later found out that due to a series of previous events involving the fire extinguishers, any tampering with them could lead to immediate expulsion). I just stood their confused, with a knot on my head and ripped t-shirt. I acheived my agenda with great success. Not only did I let everyone know that I wouldn't back down from a clear physical disadvantage, but I did it without getting my ass kicked. It was awesome, and entirely hilarious at the same time. That story still garners as much laughter as any of our other college stories. Also, later that night, Baldy approached me and told me how much balls I had, and he respected me, and that we were cool. That was all fine and dandy, but this didn't mean much to me as it turned out, Baldy really was, unsurprisingly, a douche, loser, and a tool that nobody really liked.
My favorite part is that you can recount every word of the exchange like it happened yesterday. I hate threads like this. All of the chest thumping gets old, fast.