I don't fight much
Because I don't like to. Seems to come with the territory of being a well-raised big bastard. I have had a few brief fights, though:

In grammar, a wiry wee fucker headbutted me in the changing rooms after PE. I remember just looking down at him, then shoving him away - apparently I launched him across the room and straight into the wall.

Another very brief fight I got into was a case of mistaken identity. Some cunt moved the chair of another guy just as he sat down, so he fell over [wacky hijinxs, I tell you]. He got back up and thought I'd done it, and snapped and laid into me. He was like a fucking berserker, I barely managed to hold him off while telling him it wasn't me, and we were broken up by a teacher and got a stern talking-to. He apologised profusely immediately afterward and we were on good terms for the rest of our tenure.

The cunt who did pull the chair out was still a cunt, though. I never actually got into a fight with him, but after some nonstop taunting one day I chased him all around the gravel pitch bellowing and threatening him. I didn't have a mission of catching him [fat lol] but the look of terror on his face at the initial charge was hilarious, and the rest of the year seemed to think so too.

And finally, I got a fair beating in primary school. We were grappling, and he headbutted me a couple of times and kicked me square in the bollocks. I had a lump like a golfball, and my jewels were like coconuts for a day, but dammit if I didn't get to gob right in his mouth before I went over.

Rumours of my length have been greatly exaggerated.
(dregan, Mon 13 Mar 2006, 11:01, Reply)