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Breaking Up a Cat Fight
Stoned at the Elmwood, age 34

I was in doors. My wife was tending bar. Sometimes, when my wife tended bar, I’d be thrown into the unofficial bouncer role. Then these two bitches start fighting. I give it to them, these two bitches were getting’ it.

They were white trash princess types, one dark hair, one blonde. They were pounding the fucking shit out of each other. They were going with two hands, wind milling. It degenerated to grabbing hair and then holding and hitting. They both had each other by the hair, pounding each other in the face and my wife asked me to go do something about it.

Me and another guy, a regular, grabbed them and we’re prying them apart and this is two big guys, fit and strong and we’re having a hell of time pulling these two she tigers apart. They had the death clamp on. Their claws were out. At some point in the fray the one’s hand cones back and she’s got a stone ring on and the stone broke off in my chin and stayed there.

We got them apart and calmed them down. They weren’t thrown out of the bar—got calmed down—it had something to do with them a man fucking both of them. That’s good for the feminists. It’s always the man’s fault.

I didn’t realize until the next day, when I sobered up, that I had a stone stuck in there, I plucked it out with a pocket knife and then it got severely infected. I went to the doctors and they lanced it and gave me some antibiotics. Now I have a fucked up chin that grows no hair on it. If women get in a fight in the bar they should take the ring off for the bouncer’s protection.

Taboo You: Deluxe Man Cave Edition

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