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Bonham

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Once when I was in the Navy this dude was drunk and decided to take a swing at me. When he did, I ducked and the momentum from his mighty swing made him fall down flat on his drunken ass! I wouldn't ever want to piss off Bonzo, Richard Cole or Peter Grant, though!

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God's in the import/export business?! No way! :o

You totally got me up there hahaha. Touche. In the words of the illustrious Michael Kelso, "BURN!!!" I should have seen it coming. :P

I was just warming you up for next time. Don't worry. :P:lol:

Edited by Bonham
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I've been in 18 fights. Lost 1 in 5th grade. only started 1. I don't know why people pick on me even though i was always the biggest in my class. Last fight was 4 months ago. Im 6'3 250 and this 5'9 170lbs who ive never met decided during a bears game to put a BB gun in my ear and pull the trigger. Only air came out, but poeple told me i was an asshole, even though i drove him to the hospital because i felt bad for him and his broken jaw. All my close buddies either never been in a fight or got their ass kicked once.

I'm not sure what made my jaw drop the most...your post about fighting or your signature.

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Once when I was in the Navy this dude was drunk and decided to take a swing at me. When he did, I ducked and the momentum from his mighty swing made him fall down flat on his drunken ass! I wouldn't ever want to piss off Bonzo, Richard Cole or Peter Grant, though!

Thats quite possible i was drunk quite a bit in the Navy.Are you the one gave me this black eye.Well i have something for you.

myeyenavydays.jpg

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We called it a crows foot and you are right we used them for opening valves.We had various sizes for different size valves.Worked in the Engine/Boiler room on serveral different Ships. And as for people packing mines bigger.

phalanx.jpg

missels.jpg

:angry::angry::angry::D

Edited by alwizard03
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When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take your

frustration out on someone,

don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't

know. I was sitting at my desk

when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number

and dialed it. A man answered,

saying "Hello. "I politely said, "This is Chris. Could I please speak with

Robyn Carter?" Suddenly a manic

voice yelled out in my ear "Get the right f***ing number!" and the phone was

slammed down on me. I couldn't

believe that anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down Robyn's correct

number to call her, I found that

I had accidentally transposed the last two digits. After hanging up with

her, I decided to call the 'wrong'

number again. When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled "You're an

asshole!" and hung up.

I wrote his number down with the word 'asshole' next to it, and put it in my

desk drawer. Every couple of

weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and

yell, "You're an asshole!" It always

cheered me up.

When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic 'asshole' calling

would have to stop. So, I called his

number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from the telephone company. I'm

calling to see if you're familiar with

our Caller ID Program?" He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone. I

quickly called him back and said,

"That's because you're an asshole!" and hung up.

One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot.

Some guy in a black BMW cut me off

and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and

yelled that I'd been waiting for that spot,

but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his back window,

so I wrote down his number. A

couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had his

number on speed dial,) I thought that I'd better

call the BMW asshole too. I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for

sale?" He said, "Yes, it is." I

asked, "Can you tell me where I can see it?" He said, "Yes, I live at 34

Oaktree Blvd , in Fairfax . It's a yellow

ranch, and the car's parked right out in front." I asked, "What's your

name?" He said, "My name is Don

Hansen," I asked, "When's a good time to catch you, Don?" He said, "I'm

home every evening after five." I

said, "Listen, Don, can I tell you something?" He said, "Yes? I said,

"Don, you're an asshole!" Then I hung

up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.

Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call.

Then I came up with an idea. I called asshole #1. He said, "Hello." I

said, "You're an asshole!" (But I didn't

hang up.) He asked, "Are you still there?" I said, "Yeah,"! He

screamed, "Stop calling me," I said, "Make

me," He asked, "Who are you?" I said, "My name is Don Hansen." He

said, "Yeah? Where do you live?"

I said, "Asshole, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd , in Fairfax , a yellow ranch,

I have a black Beamer parked in front." He

said, "I'm coming over right now Don, and you had better start saying your

prayers." I said, "Yeah, like I'm

really scared, asshole," and hung up.

Then I called Asshole #2. He said, "Hello?" I said, "Hello, asshole,"

He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are...

" I said, "You'll what?" He exclaimed, "I'll kick your ass," I

answered, "Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm

coming over right now."

Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34

Oaktree Blvd , in Fairfax , and that I was

on my way over there to kill my gay lover.

Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down in Oaktree Blvd.

in Fairfax . I quickly got into my

car and headed over to Fairfax . I got there just in time to watch two

assholes beating the crap out of each other

in front of six cop cars, an overhead news helicopter and surrounded by a

news crew.

NOW ....... I feel much better. Anger management really does work.

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When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take your

frustration out on someone,

don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't

know. I was sitting at my desk

when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number

and dialed it. A man answered,

saying "Hello. "I politely said, "This is Chris. Could I please speak with

Robyn Carter?" Suddenly a manic

voice yelled out in my ear "Get the right f***ing number!" and the phone was

slammed down on me. I couldn't

believe that anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down Robyn's correct

number to call her, I found that

I had accidentally transposed the last two digits. After hanging up with

her, I decided to call the 'wrong'

number again. When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled "You're an

asshole!" and hung up.

I wrote his number down with the word 'asshole' next to it, and put it in my

desk drawer. Every couple of

weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and

yell, "You're an asshole!" It always

cheered me up.

When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic 'asshole' calling

would have to stop. So, I called his

number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from the telephone company. I'm

calling to see if you're familiar with

our Caller ID Program?" He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone. I

quickly called him back and said,

"That's because you're an asshole!" and hung up.

One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot.

Some guy in a black BMW cut me off

and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and

yelled that I'd been waiting for that spot,

but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his back window,

so I wrote down his number. A

couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had his

number on speed dial,) I thought that I'd better

call the BMW asshole too. I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for

sale?" He said, "Yes, it is." I

asked, "Can you tell me where I can see it?" He said, "Yes, I live at 34

Oaktree Blvd , in Fairfax . It's a yellow

ranch, and the car's parked right out in front." I asked, "What's your

name?" He said, "My name is Don

Hansen," I asked, "When's a good time to catch you, Don?" He said, "I'm

home every evening after five." I

said, "Listen, Don, can I tell you something?" He said, "Yes? I said,

"Don, you're an asshole!" Then I hung

up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.

Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call.

Then I came up with an idea. I called asshole #1. He said, "Hello." I

said, "You're an asshole!" (But I didn't

hang up.) He asked, "Are you still there?" I said, "Yeah,"! He

screamed, "Stop calling me," I said, "Make

me," He asked, "Who are you?" I said, "My name is Don Hansen." He

said, "Yeah? Where do you live?"

I said, "Asshole, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd , in Fairfax , a yellow ranch,

I have a black Beamer parked in front." He

said, "I'm coming over right now Don, and you had better start saying your

prayers." I said, "Yeah, like I'm

really scared, asshole," and hung up.

Then I called Asshole #2. He said, "Hello?" I said, "Hello, asshole,"

He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are...

" I said, "You'll what?" He exclaimed, "I'll kick your ass," I

answered, "Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm

coming over right now."

Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34

Oaktree Blvd , in Fairfax , and that I was

on my way over there to kill my gay lover.

Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down in Oaktree Blvd.

in Fairfax . I quickly got into my

car and headed over to Fairfax . I got there just in time to watch two

assholes beating the crap out of each other

in front of six cop cars, an overhead news helicopter and surrounded by a

news crew.

NOW ....... I feel much better. Anger management really does work.

Aaaaa therapy.

Next time I'm angry, I'll just read this post!

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when i was a little kid i had to fight off older bullies. they'd pick on me a few times bloody my face up. then i'd get tiered of it and fuck their world up, i pushed one particular bully kid down a flight of steps and tossed a table onto him. didn't see him again after that. people would put this other kid up to bullying me on the school bus everyday, till i busted open his face pretty good. it was a great thing to watch his evil smile sudenly spurtting blood and cries for his mother, i didn't stop hitting him untill he was trapped undernieth the seat. didn't get into as many fights as i got older. a few. i'm still being bullied occasionally. you can't fight back physically anymore, it will get you in deep trouble and i have better things to do than get into a mud slinging contest with other pigs

who are more practiced in their art of doing so. i use black candles instead of my fists now. i wont stop until you are nothing.

Edited by zero
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Um, okay.....hey I know people are shits (esp kids at school, on the bus etc), but I also know that magic is supposed to affect you, not others. How old are you? Here's an unsolicited hug from a mom *HUG* :)

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Many times with my brother if that counts, then once in elementary school with a mean girl who was making fun of me and a bunch of other people. That happened at school and I had to sit in the office every day during recess for a whole week and that seems like a long time when your 7.

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Yeah I've gotten into a few when I was a teenager. One of them the cops had to break up. :lol: But then I used to hang out with a really rough crowd back then.

I can't imagine ever getting into one now over anything. It would be absolutely ridiculous. :blink::lol: Unless it was in self-defense of course.

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The only fights Ive been invovled in were at school or college and never started by myself always down to some other idiot making a scene.

The last fight i had was outside a coffe shop when i was only 18 with this guy who was so much shorter than me that i couldnt bring myself to hurt him so i had to keep throwing him off me lol. Ended up going crashing into tables and everything was more funny than anything else as knowone got really hurt.

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When I was younger I moved from New Jersey to California, and felt like an odd duck out there in that sun-drenched shallow world. Some karate students from the local dojo were picking on me. I think they were from something called the Cobra Kai or something. Anyway, the janitor in my building taught me karate, and I kicked all their asses in the All-Valley Under-18 Karate Tournament. I have a video of me beating their asses, and watch the DVD often. Good times.

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When I was younger I moved from New Jersey to California, and felt like an odd duck out there in that sun-drenched shallow world. Some karate students from the local dojo were picking on me. I think they were from something called the Cobra Kai or something. Anyway, the janitor in my building taught me karate, and I kicked all their asses in the All-Valley Under-18 Karate Tournament. I have a video of me beating their asses, and watch the DVD often. Good times.

That is an awesome story. Sometimes I forget how awful kids can be. My daughter doesn't get picked on the way my brother and I did, so it's too easy to forget how bad it was. It sounds like your situation turned out pretty well!

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