Normally I'm not a violent guy, but in the past two weeks I have been (partly because Paul encouraged me). If you're reading this, I'm sure you know about me beating Paul up. I don't remember ever kicking him, so I think he just put that in the spice up his story. We might have been trading blows though with kicks, because I still have a massive bruise on my right knee from that night and that was a week and a half ago. I did sincerely apologize to Paul about making him pee blood, but he said it was ok because I'm funnier when I'm violent. I told him that comment will someday cause his demise.
Last week on the Wed. before Thanksgiving, some friends and I threw a party. We decided to make this one kid, Jew, the target for "spoons". We don't hate Jew, but he fucks with everybody when they're drunk so we decided it was payback time. I, of course, landed the final blow on him, and he was feeling pretty sore about it. Jew and I were standing on the back porch sharing a cigarette, he was complaining, and when he found out it was I who knocked the fuck out of his skull he challenged me to a fight. Jew is about 5'7" 150 lbs., and I'm 6'2" 180 lbs. I got everybody's attention to take note that it was he who challenged me. I knew I could easily take Jew, but he obviously needed to learn. Starting off, he wants the rules to be "no punching in the face, and no punching in the balls." I agreed, because at first I didn't want to make him bleed. Unfortunately, the first thing Jew did was punch me in the face right at the base of my nose. This sent me into a rage. Our friends saw me raging, and stopped us to make the fight "slaps only"...lame. I pretended to agree and followed along for a bit. The first chance I got, I slipped one arm around Jew's waist and strong-armed him. I threw him back down to the ground and he landed nose first. He bled profusely all over the carpet, so we got him a bucket to hold over. After about a minute he started vomiting. Strange as it is, I took some sadistic joy in the sight of Jew bleeding and vomiting. One time, he wrote "I love Bosh" and "Oval office" on my face while I was asleep when he knew I had to go to work the next morning. I vowed revenge, and I felt like revenge had been gotten. The next morning--on Thanksgiving-- Jew could hardly move. He was still vomiting. I tried not to smile, but it was so difficult. I haven't talked to him since, so I don't know if I actually broke his nose or if I just bashed him.
Let me give you some background before the next entry on violence: I'm a music education student, upright bass as my primary instrument and electric bass as my secondary. Next semester I'm probably changing to technical theater or math. I'm employed at the school's recital hall as a stage manager (that's what got me started on technical theater), and I also work at the office of the School of Music as hired muscle basically. My boss is one of the most unorganized bosses I've ever had. Event dates change periodically, and that's expected. The unfortunate thing is that she waits till the last minute to tell the stage crew about these changes. This happens WAY too often, and nothing pisses me off more than finding out one or two days before an event that I need to be there. By now, I'm sure you've guessed that this happened today.
The original schedule stated that tonight's performance was a violin recital. The only things needed on a violin recital are a piano, a recording, and lighting. One of the other stage managers was scheduled, and everything could be accomplished with her working. I was working at the office this morning, when my boss interrupted me. She said that the violinist had switched with a Vocal Jazz Choir that was supposed to go on next Tuesday, Dec. 9. They required heavy assistance with PA setup that included a piano that needed to be micced, a bass amp, a drum set, four vocal mics, a mixer, two monitors, two speakers, and lots and lots of cable. Obviously, my help was needed. Thank you, boss. I took a half hour break after class, because I had been busy since I got to the office that morning, then I went to the hall and started setting up the equipment. I couldn't get everything set up in time for their rehearsal so the director was pretty mad at me. I apologized to him, but there was nothing else I could do. They only started five minutes later than they had wanted to, though. To keep track of Concert Attendance (a requirement at the School of Music), we use a computer program linked with a student ID database. Students swipe their student IDs to sign in and out. Less than five minutes after I turned the computer on, some kid hit the "close Concert" button on the program. That meant that the computer thought the event had ended, so I had to make people sign in on a piece of paper. I was pretty angry and didn't want to start yelling at the kid in front of the other students, so I turned the computer off and left the lobby area. When I returned, somebody had restarted the computer and opened up Internet Explorer. I was fuming by this point. By now it was five minutes until scheduled show time, and the group was still on the stage. I needed to get them off and let in the audience so that we could start. The director was giving directions, so I cut in and said that I needed to open the house up. He turned to me and said that they would have been off already had they been able to start on time. I couldn't say anything more to him without endangering my job, so I left the stage. The instant I was out of earshot, I punched the cinderblock wall...repeatedly. My hand is now swollen and hurts like hell. But I don't really mind, because I was able to talk to the director politely and my head no longer feels like it is going to explode.
Maybe I should take up boxing...or rugby.
Last week on the Wed. before Thanksgiving, some friends and I threw a party. We decided to make this one kid, Jew, the target for "spoons". We don't hate Jew, but he fucks with everybody when they're drunk so we decided it was payback time. I, of course, landed the final blow on him, and he was feeling pretty sore about it. Jew and I were standing on the back porch sharing a cigarette, he was complaining, and when he found out it was I who knocked the fuck out of his skull he challenged me to a fight. Jew is about 5'7" 150 lbs., and I'm 6'2" 180 lbs. I got everybody's attention to take note that it was he who challenged me. I knew I could easily take Jew, but he obviously needed to learn. Starting off, he wants the rules to be "no punching in the face, and no punching in the balls." I agreed, because at first I didn't want to make him bleed. Unfortunately, the first thing Jew did was punch me in the face right at the base of my nose. This sent me into a rage. Our friends saw me raging, and stopped us to make the fight "slaps only"...lame. I pretended to agree and followed along for a bit. The first chance I got, I slipped one arm around Jew's waist and strong-armed him. I threw him back down to the ground and he landed nose first. He bled profusely all over the carpet, so we got him a bucket to hold over. After about a minute he started vomiting. Strange as it is, I took some sadistic joy in the sight of Jew bleeding and vomiting. One time, he wrote "I love Bosh" and "Oval office" on my face while I was asleep when he knew I had to go to work the next morning. I vowed revenge, and I felt like revenge had been gotten. The next morning--on Thanksgiving-- Jew could hardly move. He was still vomiting. I tried not to smile, but it was so difficult. I haven't talked to him since, so I don't know if I actually broke his nose or if I just bashed him.
Let me give you some background before the next entry on violence: I'm a music education student, upright bass as my primary instrument and electric bass as my secondary. Next semester I'm probably changing to technical theater or math. I'm employed at the school's recital hall as a stage manager (that's what got me started on technical theater), and I also work at the office of the School of Music as hired muscle basically. My boss is one of the most unorganized bosses I've ever had. Event dates change periodically, and that's expected. The unfortunate thing is that she waits till the last minute to tell the stage crew about these changes. This happens WAY too often, and nothing pisses me off more than finding out one or two days before an event that I need to be there. By now, I'm sure you've guessed that this happened today.
The original schedule stated that tonight's performance was a violin recital. The only things needed on a violin recital are a piano, a recording, and lighting. One of the other stage managers was scheduled, and everything could be accomplished with her working. I was working at the office this morning, when my boss interrupted me. She said that the violinist had switched with a Vocal Jazz Choir that was supposed to go on next Tuesday, Dec. 9. They required heavy assistance with PA setup that included a piano that needed to be micced, a bass amp, a drum set, four vocal mics, a mixer, two monitors, two speakers, and lots and lots of cable. Obviously, my help was needed. Thank you, boss. I took a half hour break after class, because I had been busy since I got to the office that morning, then I went to the hall and started setting up the equipment. I couldn't get everything set up in time for their rehearsal so the director was pretty mad at me. I apologized to him, but there was nothing else I could do. They only started five minutes later than they had wanted to, though. To keep track of Concert Attendance (a requirement at the School of Music), we use a computer program linked with a student ID database. Students swipe their student IDs to sign in and out. Less than five minutes after I turned the computer on, some kid hit the "close Concert" button on the program. That meant that the computer thought the event had ended, so I had to make people sign in on a piece of paper. I was pretty angry and didn't want to start yelling at the kid in front of the other students, so I turned the computer off and left the lobby area. When I returned, somebody had restarted the computer and opened up Internet Explorer. I was fuming by this point. By now it was five minutes until scheduled show time, and the group was still on the stage. I needed to get them off and let in the audience so that we could start. The director was giving directions, so I cut in and said that I needed to open the house up. He turned to me and said that they would have been off already had they been able to start on time. I couldn't say anything more to him without endangering my job, so I left the stage. The instant I was out of earshot, I punched the cinderblock wall...repeatedly. My hand is now swollen and hurts like hell. But I don't really mind, because I was able to talk to the director politely and my head no longer feels like it is going to explode.
Maybe I should take up boxing...or rugby.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
grooverider:
so, is the guy's name really "Jew" or is this some new-faschist thing you've been developing?
grooverider:
ok then.