Death's Door presents the Bar Years
Back “in the day” when I bounced at night and worked at the music store I had a few adventures and shit. This highlights just a few of em.Tuesday, November 02, 2004
BITCH SLAPPER PISSES PANTS
It’s back in the day and I’m working the front door at the LoneStar and there’s this mullet haired pussy giving me all this grief because I won’t let em in the door. Muthafucker got the sac to bitch at me like I’m his fuckin punk. So there I am, standin there deciding if I want to get a coffee or tear this fucker another one when my prayers are answered. I really want to smack this cat around, but that not a cool thing to do anymore. Back in the day if a cat stepped wrong you did what you had to do and sent his punk ass home, or you hooked into each other and the better man was left standin. (I made a lot of good friends like that) but as of lately, when you put the bad hand on a fucker you usually ended up getting the cops called on you, so you tend to wait for a reason. Well, my reason walked up. About three young girls were coming down the ally and saw this guy givin me the ration of shit. And like most drunk’s they couldn’t keep they’re mouths shut;
“hey fucker, he said get away from the door”.Suddenly it was John Woo all over again. In slow motion I saw him raise his fist and start swinging at the girl closest to em. I was three steps up from the guy and as I stepped down I swing my arm. I hit him so hard you would’a thought we were in an old western. My fist with all my weight hit him plumb in the chest; I swore dust came off his shirt. He didn’t fall backward or to the side, but straight down. The cat just folded. He bounced once or twice when he hit the ground, it was all over except for the fact that when I hit him his bladder let go and he pissed all over himself. Kind’a hard to be a tough guy hittin women and havin pee run out’a the bottom of your jeans.
But its kind’a cool hittin a cat so hard he pees himself.There was also the day I found out how much of a freak I could be. The manager and a bunch of us bouncers were hanging outside the bar one night. It was raisin and a whole lot wasn’t goin on. One of the owners walks up and starts yakking at us. There was this story goin around that this certain owner had fucked over one of the homeless guys with a stun gun for standin in front of one of his bars. The more I thought about it the madder I became. (and when I get mad I tend to do stupid shit) I asked him if I could see his stun gun, he handed it over to me and told me that it would knock a grown man down and all that. I just kept thinking about how uncool it was stunning a homeless guy who by most accounts never fucked with anybody. So I waited until he was watchin and I put the stun gun to my chest and turned it on. Then I put it on my leg and turned it on.
“Damn, the fuckin thing must not be working. I know, I didn’t do it right”Then I turned the thing on and dragged it from my shoulder down to my waist. All the time I never broke eye contact with him. I gave him his stunner back and told him he better go get a bigger one, this one must not be working right. All he could do was stare at me like I was some huge freak. He was pretty close to the truth. The stun gun took a lot out of me and it hurt like a muthafucker, but I sure in the fuck wasn’t gonna let him see it. Maybe he’ll think before he fucks with someone else. Put that in the “don’t try this at home category”. Peace
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Name: Greg Beck
Home: first bar stool to the left, make mine a Beam & coke please!, United States
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Previous Posts
- WHO KILLED ROGER RABBIT?
- don't drink and play with sharp objects
- UNCLE DEATH
- WHITE DOPES ON PUNK
- VAN DEATH
- WEST TEXAS ROADKILL BAR-B-QUE
- THE COSA NOSTRA DONKEY SHOW
- HOG TIED THE MONKEY GIRL
- PYROTECHNIQUES
- COCK-TAIL?
time till my fuckin birthday and my sac drops another inch!
