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Phucked around and found out thread. Stories of dirtbags doing dirtbag things and taking dirtnaps or finding out the reward isnt as they thought.

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  • ZX9RCAM

    Over the Rainbow bridge...
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    May 14, 2008
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    The Woodlands, Tx.
    Didn't work for me.

    Screenshot_20230913-083535_Chrome.jpg
     
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    benenglish

    Just Another Boomer
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    Nov 22, 2011
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    Spring
    Those fight clips irritate the shit out of me. Take this one.




    The text says "Stranger comes in and uses hands." WHY?

    The person who intervened threw a bunch of sissy side-fists that did virtually nothing. The intervenor, however, had perfect position when she first stepped in and grabbed hair. All that she needed to do at that point was to pull the aggressors head to her chest and then use the strength of her weight, back, and arms to shove the bully's face into the edge of the table. A half dozen quick repetitions could have knocked out all the front teeth, broken the nose, and probably broken an orbital socket.

    Yet she used those ineffective hands.

    And look at this one.




    THREE TIMES the bigger guy picked up and slammed his opponent and the net result was that his opponent still had fight left in him. That's stupid. When throwing someone onto hard surfaces, you don't gently lay them on their side like the first throw. You look for some hard object for their head to contact when they hit the ground, something like a curb. On the second throw, the big guy actually had the little guy upside down. All he had to do was drop to his knees to pound his opponents head into the asphalt and the fight would have been over.

    Kids these days. I don't understand. Did none of them have fathers to teach them anything?

    ETA - I didn't mean to sound like a jerk in this post. It's just that my father taught me that fighting was stupid and you don't do it unless you're absolutely forced. When that point is reached, though, there are no rules. "Hurt the other guy so bad he never even thinks of coming near you again." I'll never forget how strange those words seemed, coming from my father, a slender, effeminate, gentle man who wouldn't hurt a fly. I'm awfully glad I never saw him do the things that I discovered, after his death, he was capable of. And I'm glad I found out about those things; finally, the cognitive dissonance caused by his words in contrast with some of the things he taught me, dissipated.

    And yes, grammar nazis, I know the previous paragraph was structured and punctuated incompetently. I'm really busy at the moment; I didn't have time to do it right.
     
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