|
||||||
| FAQ | Members List | Calendar | Today's Posts | Search |
Topic Review (Newest First)
|
| Apr 2nd, 2006 06:15 PM | ||
| DamnthatDavid |
Quote:
|
|
| Apr 1st, 2006 05:32 PM | ||
| Trash |
I am the bar-fight. The one getting beaten. |
|
| Apr 1st, 2006 05:29 PM | ||
| ziggytrix |
In Texas that kind of smile is code for "I have a concealed handgun permit." 
|
|
| Apr 1st, 2006 06:44 AM | ||
| DamnthatDavid |
Drunks and Bar-fights I almost got my head torn off by a guy with arms the size of my leg. I was the DD for 3 beautiful ladies, and this one guy didn't like that I was "stealing" them away at closing. He thought I was a Cock-Blocker, and that I was going to take them back to my house for a wild sex Orgy. Saddly, I just wanted to get them away from Mr. Leg-Arm and his disgusting coherts that no sober girl would hang around. He was cool to start with, I even chatted with him. Joking around that I was mormon, and the 3 girls where my wives. (I guess he remembered that part only in his drunk-ass state) But at the end, he was openly looking for a fight. He was yelling, and standing up, and sitting down. I was standing my ground though, even if he outweighed me by about 100 pounds. I just stood there, and smiled the entire freaking time. He finally let me get the girls out. I think smiling bothered him. God, I hate drunk assholes. |
|
