This one time...
First of all, how many sodding people have friends in the marines? It's getting a bit much now.
Moving on.
I'm not the biggest person in the world. And My facial expression is something reminiscent of something as threatening as a sloth with no limbs. And I always seem to be everywhere dangerous on my own. Smart, I know.
Walking home on a lovely afternoon, 3 well 'ard gangstars cross the road to ask me the time. I knew what was gonna happen straight away, living in Brixton. Luckily, I didn't have my phone on me that day so all they got from me was 21p and 3 sticks of chewing gum. I wasn't stuffed as I just wanted to get home and put my feet up. I made the God-awful faux pas of sighing and asking whether they were done yet. So got lumped in the jaw. Once, twice, yep I've realised what's happening now, thrice, block the fourth and spin one guy's kneecap around his leg with my amazingly useful Doc Martens. They're like tanks for your feet :D.
After that I feel smug for approximately 0.3 seconds, when I'm reminded by several hard, fist-like objects that there's still a fight going on.
Turns out I lose. Yeah. 3 on 1 isn't really the best odds to have. I got a few days off school for my trouble though.
(Gat Bandish I've got wood in my soul, Fri 16 Jun 2006, 22:18, Reply)