Monday, November 7, 2011

Story Time

And now, how IMR 4350 and his friend totally defeated a gang of armed Gay Illeagals:

Part I:
we sent 7 people to the hospital that night.

We were attacked by a mob of butt buddies calling them selves a “CITIZENS PATROLE”.

Butt buddies were a protected class even in the 70”s.

We were outnumbered by about 4 or 5 to one but the idiots kept coming at us 2 and 3 at a time instead of all at once, so they were getting the crap kicked out of them.

The guy that ran over me got the crap kicked out of him so he got in my truck to run over us.

When he saw me get up after being run over twice he dove out the passengers window and landed on his head splitting it open.

My buddy ran around the truck and planted a steel toe boot in his face.

I had a baseball bat I had taken away from one after he broke my buddies arm with it, and a guy came up behind me and hit me in back of the head. I got a home run on his knee.

Three more came running and jumped my buddy and before they knew what hit them two were out cold.

If that whole mob had attacked us all at once I don't have a doubt they would have killed us. They had knives, bats, pieces of chain, a bolt action rifle (after the guy ran out of ammo and hadn't hit anyone I played Tarzan with it and wrapped it around a tree) and lord only knows what else.

It's amazing what your body can tolerate when it has to.

They gave us a court date but there were never any charges filed against us and they wouldn't file charges against the butt buddies.
The Thrilling Conclusion:
We saw the guy a few months later, we were at a bar in Baytown.

A bunch of illegals had come in and were trying to take over the bar and turn it into a Mexican bar.

About 5 or six had surrounded my buddy at the juke box and told him he couldn't play any music except what they wanted.

One of the illegals told another one to go get Big John.

When Big John walked up guess who it was?

My buddy turned around to look at Big John, and Big John almost crapped his pants.

The guys name wasn't John, my buddy had taken to calling him Harold for some reason, said he looked like a Harold.

My buddy reached up and grabbed him by the ear and gave it a good twist and said hello Harald, are these your friends?

My buddy said “Harold you and your friends are going to leave and not come back.”

One of the illegals asked Big John if he was going to let him talk to him like that.

Harold said yes there's two of them in here.

I damn near fell out of my chair laughing.

The bartender lost it when my buddy led Harold out the door by his ear and all the illegals followed.

We drank free beer all night.
Further details can be found in this post, which was too long to exerpt or even finish.

4 comments:

  1. These people have the maturity of high school kids.

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  2. Thanks, Ozy. That was legendary.

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  3. That made me feel ill, but I live in AZ and meet these people.
    Who are making shit up because they are crazy.

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  4. I'd love to see this story animated.

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