I believe that if a girl wants to hit a man, he should be allowed to fight back. If a little girl wants to be treated "equal", fine, just let equality extend across the board. It pisses me off to hear stories like that.
I figured you would be fine with that, but tell that to the little bitch in the bar smacking a guy in the face over and over in front of 100 people, taunting at him: "What are you gonna DO, hit a GIRL?" ...fuck, I wish he would at that point.
Why hit them when psychological damage last forever? Telling them theyre fat or their pussy stinks can scar them for life. Life spent 500 yard or more away from you at all times.
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Psychological assault must be carefully handled, if you push her over the edge, you may be worse off. I realise it is an impractical belief, given our society's view of a man striking a woman. But these childish women have to get a fucking grip. I've seen women behave this way and it is all I can do not to hit them myself out of irritation.
"I don't hit women. I would never hit a woman, Chloe. I'd hit a woman who was trying to hit me with a bottle. That's different. That's self-defense, isn't it? Or a woman who could do karate. I would never hit a woman generally, Chloe." In Bruges, what a badass movie. Shiner Bock time!
My ex tried to hit me more then once. The key word is "Tried." I would never hit a woman. Ever. She would strike a couple of glancing blows while I bobbed and weaved and then I would grab her wrists so she couldn't throw another punch and I calmed her down. She honestly did not know what she was doing when she's get violent. I won't go to much into her history, but she'd been molested since she was 5...first by her older cousins, and then by her step father when she was in her teens. She was also raped twice. There was a third attempt to rape her while she and I were together and she was visiting her father. She ended up locked up in a mental hospital for a month and I was ready to kill the motherfucker that did that to her, fortunately my friends talked me into go killing a few trees instead. Dealing with/ caring about someone with severe mental issues is not fun, nor something to be taken lightly. It will steal your soul trying to understand it.
Men aren't allowed to hit women. But, WOMEN are. Therefore, there should be an organization that you can call and hire women to perform such duties. I know Pimptress can throw a jaw-breaking right, so you wanna start a business?
I think the old guys (Nettdata and myself) have a pretty good idea about seriously insane women. The occasionally violent girl is probably just pissed off at you about something you did. He and I have both dealt with women that have been put away from society because they pose a risk not only to themselves, but to others as well. That's a wee bit different then a pissed off woman hitting you. He and I both cared deeply for these women and still do. (I hope I'm not putting words in your mouth Net) However, at a certain point you have to walk away. Beyond the threats of killing me in my sleep, the occasional outbursts of trying to hit me and all the other weird shit I had to deal with I'd also have to walk into my bathroom and find it covered with blood. My ex used to cut herself when she was angry at the world for whatever reason. I had to remove all the knives from my house other then butter knifes in a vain hope that she wouldn't hurt herself. She always found a way to do so when the mood struck her however. She'd tear apart my razors and cut herself up, use a pair of scissors, or break a glass and cut the bloody fuck out of herself. I tried my best to understand it, but I just couldn't. She told me that she cut herself and watched the blood just to show herself that she was alive and could feel pain. All I could think is "What the fuck?" I loved her and I still love her, but I just can't understand that level of crazy. "I'm so mad at the world I'm going to hurt myself. That'll show them." I'll never understand that. I tried to, but it just never made any sense to me.
My Ex was very similar but had a drug habit to boot with not just one but about 5 different drugs. Didn't pick up on anything until I was already in love with her and in over my head. She had the devils own luck though, escaped a few car crashes and such but things like that seemed to seek her out. She died in a car crash end of last year and the way she lived her life it was probably a merciful thing for that luck to finally run out.
I have been drinking Capn' and cokes for the past 5 hours and playing Call of Duty. I am heading to party in a bit where I will be hopefully being hooking up with a chick and smoking some dope. One is far more likely than the other so my hopes aren't too high. Get it?
I need to turn in my redneck card. I just spent 1/2 an hour trying to catch fire to a downed ceder tree and failed. I don't care if it's raining, I've never failed to start a fire.
That's because it DOESN'T make sense. People who are as you say "mad at the world" are mad because the world basically ignores them (or at least they feel that way). Basically, they're terminal adolescents (like moi). She didn't cut herself to feel alive, she cut herself so she'd make YOU realize SHE'S alive (though I kind of doubt you were ignoring her in the first place). Some people are simply addicted to sympathy, some have a sympton called Munchausen Syndrome which is a very extreme form of that personality trait. Very dangerous people. That, or she's batshit nuts. Either way, thank god for booze and pot.
The first time I ever got drunk was off Dr McGillicuddy when I was in 7th grade and the scent/taste aversion has haunted me to this day. Today I am cured (kinda) as I was introduced to Dr McGillicuddy Lemon and Cherry. Wow these are tasty. Combined with a 35 pine pallet + 8 x-mas tree bonfire I'm lovin life. Cheers
Ah, now this should be a thread: The first time I ever got drunk I was 12 and my father in his fatherly wisdom took me to a keggar on the Coast Guard base. I had 3 plastic cups of beer and proclaimed to my old man..."I could do this all night" About 20 minutes later after my eighth cup of beer I was face down in the bushes but alert enough to hear my father laughingly tell his buddies "Hahaha...he thought he could do this all night." I was down for the count within the first hour. 12 years old and passed out in the bushes. That's some good parenting.