On Football and Fist Fights:

Thought for the Day:
If we can connect in some tiny way with a human that doesn't agree with us, then maybe we won't blow up the planet.
Nancy White,

Super Bowl 07:

I would like to start off by congratulating the Indianapolis Colts.

Now my weekend: The theme for the weekend was set by my loving wife who called me Friday evening on her way home to say she could no longer turn her truck and that the volt meter was at zero. Luckily she was able to pull into a garage. It turns out her power steering pump blew-up and when it did so it soaked the serpentine belt. This of course cost money, something I don’t have any of. However, the credit card I had worked hard to pay off came in handy.

Saturday, I spent obsessing over my home in Indiana. It has been below zero and all I could think of was my pipes freezing and breaking flooding the house taking down the ceilings and ruining the walls. Gladly through the graces of a friend, who went and turned the water on, turned up the heat and opened the cupboard doors, it was a problem solved.

Which takes me to Sunday, My Flower and I got invited to a Super Bowl Party and we went.

After hearing the guest list, I told my loving wife, “…this sounds like t-r-o-u-b-l-e, should we just stay home?” She said “nah’ let’s go.” …and go we did and that dear friends is where the worm turned for me.

I got there, bringing a very large London broil that I had been marinating since Friday. Had a few beers and then trouble showed up.

A gentlemen who was more than a little drunk arrived. He proceeded to pick a fight with me, from the pre-game show till about the end of the first quarter, saying smart ass things, to which I responded in kind.

Then at the behest of our host I changed tactics, for every snide comment and all out verbal attack I replied with “I love you”. Yes dear reader it was a WWJD moment, sadly Our Lord’s example was short lived.

I can take a lot of shit, but there comes a line that when crossed…well let me go on with my story.

Before half time, I was sitting on the patio (it was in the low 70’s after all), enjoying a commercial, when this wayward soul somehow got it in his mind that slapping me in the face would be a good idea. Not once, not twice but three times. Now when I say slapping think of a Ike to Tina moment. Yes, bitch slapped, now you might not know this but I am a lot of things, but being a bitch is not one of them.

I asked this lost soul to refrain from doing that again at which point he slapped me a forth time. A there was his error. You see since I was still sitting he had to reach across the table to hit me.

When you reach across a table you are off balance and exposed. Two things I used to my advantage. I reached out and grabbed his balls. Grabbed and twisted might be a better description. I wanted the boy’s attention. While doing that I got up out of my chair (in one fluid moment, pardon the pun) and picked him up by his nuts, forcing him into a stone pillar.

So, there I was holding a very surprised fellow about six inches in the air by his nut sack. At this point I since I had his undivided attention, I decided to talk to him. Which was hard, since he had me by the throat. I told him, that today was not a good day to fuck with me, I told him about not being able to find a job, about my Loving wife’s truck breaking down three times in the past 6 weeks, about my truck breaking down, about not having and money, in short, I told he that this isn’t a good time for me, to please stop.

All while twisting his nut sack has hard as I could. It was at this point he made a tactical error. He used his thumb to get in behind my voice box. Not the de-escalation I had been hoping for, but a step-up. So, I head butted him as hard as I could.

Dear reader, I am told by others present, you could hear his nose snap and snap it did, and bleed he did. I let him down. He said “fuck you, I am going to kill you etc…” …so, I stepped of the patio. Took off my shirt (white, heavy starched, banded neck) and invited him to a contest of pugilism, granted the blood made it hard for him to focus.

It was at this point he perhaps had his first smart thought of the day, he said “fuck-you, I don’t like you, you’re an asshole, you are not worth fighting”, and he spit on me. Yes, spit, now often for me that is a bit of a red flag, but given the situation, I realized that’s all the boy had, giving him some dignity, I allowed it to pass. I think being covered in his own blood un-nerved him. He took that moment to leave.

Brothers and sisters, I lost my temper and that is what troubled me. I was angry; My Flower said she has only seen that once before. It is a part of me I don’t like and I was able to channel it. I don’t like it because it feels good; it feels good to let the rage go. To tap into that power, it truly is like becoming the Incredible Hulk, if only for a moment. I don’t like that man I became, I don’t like that dark part that I know all to well exists within me, but there I was. Was it a win, yes… but for me it was a loss, I shouldn’t have gone, I knew it was going to be a bad deal, I called it before we ever got there, but I went.

So, today I wake-up, and find myself with bruising around my neck and a scab on my forehead. Not exactly what I want to project for a job interview that I have scheduled today, so I am canceling it. I am looking and feeling my very best, in a lot of ways.

…and that dear reader is how Little Kevin was lost to me, heal well Kevin the Cosmonaut.

Since I am an ass:
http://emuse.ebaumsworld.com/watch/8722

Today’s Bill:
"Oh, I am fortune's fool!"
From Romeo and Juliet (III, i, 141)

Quote of the Day:
The visionary lies to himself, the liar only to others.
Friedrich Nietzsche

I remain, knowing what evil lurks in the hearts of men, like the Shadow:

JQP