Yeah, he hurt that guy but good.

Who here has had their ass well and truely kicked, as opposed to just losing a fight?


I once got punched in my same damn eye like 20 times in a row. Fucking awful.

I had a guy swing me in the air by my hair one time and I have a chipped back tooth to show for it. Also, it looked like I had been in an car accident. The guy had intimidated my friend and my friend backed down, if you call being a simpering coward "backing down". True, the guy was huge. Me being me, and me being very drunk, I got all in his face. That's pretty much all I remember. Supposedly while he was swinging me in the air by my scalp he was saying "come on" to my friend. Who did nothing.

The closest I came was when I was 17 and I got mugged on 110th st and Central Park North, and 6 or 7 guys were kickin me while I was down. I wasn't fighting back, and they really weren't trying to put me in the hospital, so I came out of it without a scratch.

I'd feel pretty horrible about beating on a bum like that, though I guess the guy did pull a knife on him. When I was 15, some bum tried to rob me on my block. He grabbed my shirt and demanded my wallet, I just pushed him away and told him to fuck off. He left. I was bigger than him anyways. Everytime I've almost gotten in a real fight I've always defused the situation, I'm generally pretty calm.

I once got beat up bad by a guy about half my size. I'm 6'4". I don't even know what the little guy did. Some people told me he flipped me. I sometimes wish I had a video of it.

It was awesome. I have a scar that allows me to think of it every time I look in the mirror, which is also awesome.

I once killed a grizzly bear in a knife fight. He was pretty drunk, though, so I'm not really that proud of it.

Two friends and I once got jumped in Lyon by a huge French African guy and two of his big Moroccan friends.

It was 6am, and we were on our way to my friend's car with our skis, headed for the Alps. They were on their way home from a night out.

Let's just say our ski trip got cancelled. The bastards.

It's Raining - what is it with drunk animals? I swear, I was crossing the street one night, when two deer in a Jeep almost run me down. Lucky for me, they swerved at the last second and rammed into a guard rail.

But get this - the deer riding shotgun turns toward me and tosses a half-filled bottle of bourbon at my heade, knocking me out. I needed eleven stitches for that.

Wow. How sad, Smart Dalek. What a waste of bourbon.

[What do you call a drunk deer in the headlights? That's right: pickled venison. Ba-dum bump. I'm here all week, folks. Try the pickled venison.]