Grans, and a Story From Some Bar Brawling Back in The Day

Greetings and Salutations!
I appreciate EVERYONES contributions and perspectives that they’ve thrown up in the comments. Truly… they’ve helped me a lot with ‘maintaining my perspective’

Now on thing, tfAt, a fellow Rakkasan Brother who’s advised me to dip completely when it comes to the Grans? I can understand the perspective, however, It ain’t happening. -I- was the one who initially engineered Gran #1’s “rescue” if you will WAAAY back when she was only about a year old. Hell… I wasn’t even married to SWMNBN at the time which is exactly why she went to the OtherGrans.

Since we weren’t married, we knew (all of us) that the best bet when the State started examining the families so to speak for stability, that the OtherGrans were the best choice. I however was the one who came up with the scheme of telling DumbCunt that she and the BabyDaddy had “…worked so hard, and deserved a break from the baby…” which is why they left her with us, and gave us the time and ability to set things in motion…

And now?

Gran Number One, the Nukular Powered Never Sleeps Redhead has been formally adopted by the OtherGrans which means she’s safe forever. And for that? Well… maybe that one good deed is something I can be proud of for setting in motion. Maybe that’ll keep me out of Hell when the Reckoning comes right?

See… Family may be blood…
BUT
To me, Family is something/the people you choose.

And despite some bad choices, and shit-decisions I’ve made as well as ‘other’ things in my life, I choose to make sure Red and Addy are going to be in my life no matter fucking what and that they know it.

In fact, one of the things that drives SWMNBN absolutely bugshit insane is that OtherGran? Her X-Hubby? He and I, despite all of her machinations, actually were and now are close and get along thick as thieves. It positively drives her to madness…

I mean sure, he’s got his faults (like being a rabid Bucs fan LOL) but overall, even before the whole shytteshow, he and I actually got along pretty well… and now?

Well… let’s just say I get visitation after Red gets fully settled into school. Right now she needs to focus, but after? Frodrick (which is how I’ll refer to him, as he reminds me of Gene Wilder in “Young Frankenstein”) Frodrick has already said that Red can come for a weekend with Sapper and myself AFTER she gets her ‘school rhythm’ and pattern down.

That’s pretty important as she’s a wee bit ADHD and non-stop as I’ve mentioned… so making sure that getting her ‘patterns’ and regular ‘dynamic’ right is more important right now that a visit with Big Papi, Sapper and the Doggos. Once she’s good, I might spoil her with a trip to Busch Gardens or something… either way…

Family is important

BUT

Not if it hurts or harms you.
Or diminishes or degrades you
ESPECIALLY if the people who are doing this claim that they’re doing it out of ‘love’ or ‘care’ or even worse, the phrase “… for your own good!!!” That bullshit gets immediately classed under gaslighting and fuck everyone who’s ever done it to me in the past… preferably sideways with a jackhammer…

Hence why I have very limited contact with a lot of my ‘blood kin’… Like why should I tolerate disrespect, gaslighting and bullshit ALL because we have some ‘blood related relationship’?

Nope.

Done with that.
My family are who I choose

Like it, lump it, or leave it.
I’m too old to play semantic games.

And Red and Addy?
THOSE are my Grans.
End of Story/Explanation.

So otherwise, a story from WAAAY back in the day…
Since SWMNBN has been telling THE WORLD I’m some sort of abusive prick, making sound like I’m some sort of alcoholic abusive wife-beater, I figure I should clarify things.

1) I am not an alcoholic
They go to meetings.
I’m a fucking drunk goddamit.
Get it right woman!

2) I’m abusive.
Nope.
Never have I ever hit a woman
EXCEPT
(queue story time)

WAAAAAAAAAAAY back in the day as a young party hard E-4 in Nurnberg Germany, there was a rather notorious club called the “Green Goose”:

“The Goose” as we called it was a Heavy Metal Bar. Just Outside/Inside of the “Old Town” side of Nurnberg, with a GREAT Gyro shop next door, it was the go-to place for most of 1-4 Infantry back in the day’. The Goose was originally opened and run by a US Army veteran, it had expanded alllllll over Germany when I was there. Bamberg, Frankfurt… it was Nurnberg ‘branch’ if you will that I practically lived at during my two years there, and had a great time while doing so. I even had the “club card” that let me get in without having to pay a cover:

I’m kind of bummed that I don’t remember what happened to that card… it was like an actual plastic card like a credit card… but anyways…

Since places like this is where “Joe” (i.e. US Army Personnel) congregates, you invariably end up with some fights/brawling or in some instances some “out of Hollywood” full on Bar Brawls like you see in the movies.

One night I ended up involved in one such fight.

The night started off like a normal Friday.
Lots of booze
Great Music
Pantera being a BIG thing on the play list at the time… Glen Danzig and “Mother” being on regular rotation:

I have NO IDEA how the fight started…

I just know it erupted
Sort of like a Volcano…
Shit starts popping off, and it becomes your mission to survive

My best friend Dana and Squad mate went back-to-back literally. We had gone through Basic Training together, went to the Gulf for Gulf War One together, ended up being RIF’d together, lived together, and even rejoined active duty together. I mean this guy and I were family to the point that to this day MomUnit is bummed he and I had a falling out as she considers him her third son…

I won’t get too deeply into it but we were friends up until he met and got with this weird Catholic Fringe group where he met and married chick from it… From what I can tell, it’s a cult IMO… they have Ordained “Catholic Female “Priestesses” and such whatnot… its utterly bizarre and really weird and our last communique after we had met up in Baghdad (me a Contractor, and him leading a platoon of Mech Infantry on Bradleys) was when I send him a post card asking how things were and he pretty much called me a “sinner” and that he needed to cut all ties with my “sin-filled life” and me for it… and that was that… call it 7 years ago…

I’m still besties w/his first ex-wife Sabine who he was with during out time in Germany. I love that girl to death… my lil sis if you will… anyways…

Dana and I went back to back.
Beer mugs, tables, chairs… ALL sorts of shit flying ALL around the room. It was pretty dicey, but we were holding our own.

Well now, in this fight this was the ONLY time I EVER full on hit a whammenz IRL…  As I said, my bro and I were back-to-back throwing down with all comers in a classic bar brawl when I had some (what I thought was a) dude coming at me with one of them 1.5 liter German beer bottles over their head swinging to bring it down on my nugget… pretty much trying to kill me is what my reaction was at the time… 

Thankfully (or not) I caught sight of it out of the corner of my eye, and it was one of the greatest punches I ever threw… I was able to step into the punch.

Like I was able to step forward, and I telegraphed this fucking thing to the MAX with ALL my upper body strength (and as you all know, I’m a fucking beast IRL) so it was a PURE uppercut…

A textbook PERFECT impact…
I hit the (what I thought was a) ‘dude’ so hard, he/she was literally thrown across the bar unconscious…  This punch literally blew her (no shit) out of her sneakers… 

It was when he/she slumped to the floor bleeding all over the place I realized t’weren’t no dude, but a bitch.  Back then, Male Krauts usually had long-ish hippy style hair, so I thought it was a dude…. and she didn’t have any tits that ‘registered’ if’n you know what I mean… My target recognition if you will, in the heat of the moment wasn’t tracking so well…

So, she went down and out for the count…
Needless to say, due to the mayhem and the knowledge that the MPs as well as the local Gestapo would be showing up shortly, Dana and myself, as well as a slew of other combatants and practitioners of hand-to-hand combat made ourselves scarce toute-le-fucking-suite.
Departed with haste
Vamoosed
Bailed
Headed for the woodline
You get the idea…
However…

I found out later that the German Politzei and MPs were looking for me for really real as I had apparently REALLY fucked this broad up. I had (from all reports) fractured her jaw, knocked out like half of her chompers and/or broke the majority of them when her jaw got crushed, and left her half retarded from the concussion. 

THANKFULLY No one “grassed” on me as the Brits would say… with damned near the entire overwhelming attitude of everyone involved was that she got what she deserved trying to stave my squash in w/one of them BIG beer bottles. It seems that they spent a few months ‘looking’ for me, but from my understanding is the MPs didn’t try that hard under the circumstances… Go figure right?

And as a side note? A funny thing is the right hand ring finger knuckle is still flattened from that punch…  Best punch I ever threw TBH.

FAFO indeed amiright?

So More Later
Big Country






9 thoughts on “Grans, and a Story From Some Bar Brawling Back in The Day”

  1. Yeah, sounds like he joined a cult.
    Dude, those little girls bring life, and repel bitterness. Yer fortunate, the nukulear one might kill you, LOL. Reminds me of recovering open heart patients. We push them really hard, but my theory was always yer either gonna get better or die trying. I never lost one of them doing that, not even a single fall cuz of it.
    I’ve never understood people who don’t like kids, I mean they don’t have the BS masks we adults develop.
    Congrats, since their outlook sucked not too long ago.
    Chivalry really was a thing.

  2. So far, only had to hit one broad.
    Bullwinkles, early 90s, Tallahassee while I was in laser school, my birthday, by myself, drunk as fuck on Jagermeister.
    In the outside bar in the back, it was dead. Bought this kinda hot (I think) chick a drink and she promptly walked over to me and started slapping me…the beginning of the femanazi movement. Screaming “you think you can get into my pants with a drink?!” I’m kinda dumbfound, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, the bartender sees it and calls for security just as I caught her hand mid swing (about the 4th or 5th one if I recall) and tell her to not hit me again. The bartender is now trying to hop over to stop this psycho bitch when she threw another shot.
    By this time, I had sobered up, and said “fuck it” with a left hook she didn’t see coming. Knocked her the fuck out.
    Bartender looked down at her and said “that was a hell of a shot! Your next drink is on me”.
    Security came, bartender explained, and they dragged her limp ass out.
    Just nursed a draft after that one. Never bought a drink for a girl again after that.

    Good times…

    1. Never hit a woman in my life. Had a bad bar experience in my late teens that involved a strip club, being with the wrong people and far too many shots of Cuervo. In spite of being semi-passed out, wound up visiting city then county jail for three days and looking at a possible 20 to life. I’ve avoided bars ever since then. This accounts for me not smacking a woman accidently in a bar fight. Was the late 70s, feminazis hadn’t really bloomed yet anyway.

      Not to say I haven’t “wanted” to hit some women since then but I was raised to believe that unless a woman decided to fight you like a man you didn’t hit them.

      Shooter

  3. Never had to, but one of the regulars at a bar I bounced at as a yoof leveled a girl who was about to stab me.
    Donna’s Place, Rockland, MA. 1999. Great local bar, I got hired to beat the bag off off the Cape Verdeans who were selling coke and H in the parking lot and bathrooms… in a place and time where black guys stuck out like a fly in a bowl of milk, these retards weren’t hard to find.
    I had watched some 5’4″ trashbag scream at his section 8 queen gf, work himself up to hauling off on her, and the moment he did (a full power open hand slap to the face), I went apeshit on him, comic book style. After, I picked him up by his hair and his belt and half-dragged him out the door. While doing this I heard that ‘whoa!’ that comes from a group of people, and after bum rushing the guy out, turned around to see the Queen of The Projects face down and a knife on the carpet. One of the regulars had absolutely had my back.

    I bounced at some shitty bars and clubs in Boston, got my ass kicked on occasion there, but that bar full of working class suburbanites had some of the sketchiest brawls I was ever in, including a skil-saw blade frisbee fight between 2 illegal alien Irish twin brothers in the parking lot.

    1. A short few years ago, when I was 56-57, I bounced at Seville Quarter down in Pensacola. Never had to smack a bitch while there…just arm or wrist bar or chicken winged them out.
      Can’t say the same for the boys. Some of those 250-300 pound dudes had to feel some pain.

  4. Here’s that 2020 Census data on the new AO. It was done under Emporer Poopypants rules so assume under counting of Whyttes by at least 10%, over counting of dindus by at least 20% and over counting of latinos by 50% or more due to illegals.

    Athens Texas. County seat, Henderson County
    12,857 total population

    Whytte 49.22%
    dindu 16.01%
    latino 29.75%
    other 5%

    Population probably hasn’t changed by more than + or – 1000 since 2020.

    Henderson County

    82,150 total population

    Whytte 75.29%
    dindu 5.73%
    latino 13.68%
    other 5.3%

    The straight line access from the DFW area is state highway 175. There are a couple of mile long bridges through the bottoms just south of Seagoville which is heavily dindu. I would imagine some enterprising Kaufman County rednecks might have given a thought or two about making those bridges impassable. This would cut off direct access to the invading hordes from DFW. The bottoms isn’t something a city dindu will want to walk 3 miles though and the ground rises a hundred feet or so at Crandall. GOOD defensive terrain with plunging fire and lots of woods for cover. All other access to Athens is 2 lane state highways from moderately dindu free areas and the Trinity River bridges to the east at Malloy bridge road and state highway 34 could easily be made impassable cutting off access to the area from the west. Highway 31 to Corsicana is the next river bridge and is a “long” way south of 34. Its bridge could be dealt with also

    So I’m liking the new AO, it has a lot going for it.

    Shooter

  5. I’m with you in that ‘I was abused’ bullshit from a soon-2-be ex.

    The Ex was a ‘devout’ Catholic, as am I now. The only way you can separate is if there is emotional or physical abuse such that a priest (who should’ve been counseling you) deems you are better off apart. The next clause in that rule is that as soon as the situation is cleared, you are compelled to return to your spouse.

    There is no divorce.

    So that’s what Herself had to do to justify leaving – make me into a monster drunk. I wasn’t. Never hit her, never even yelled at her. I’d get lit up and ignore her bullshit.

    But I’m sure that’s the tale she told. I have old friends (mutual ones) that skitter away from me like I’m a leper. Others that thousand yard stare as they pass me. I’d be minding my own business at a social function at Church and notice her old bitty friends giving me the stink-eye.

    Fuggit. The priests (who were stunned to find out she filed for divorce) know me, and know it’s bullshit. Regardless, I bailed out of there. No reason to live up there. Moved towns, got a new woman, built a new life.

    BTW after the papers are signed, watch out. Women 45-60, never married, divorced, widowed are plentiful. You want another one, there’ll be one around.

  6. Three lessons that have always served me well: 1.) Life ain’t black and white, it’s shades of grey; 2.) Nothing occurs in a vacuum, everything happens for a reason – cause and effect; 3.) Everyone’s got a story and most folks on the outside only get the Cliff’s Note’s version, if that.

    You got a lotta folks here that are deeply vested in your health and welfare, which is awesome.

    Me? I never was worried about you ’cause I know you know what you’re doing. If you’re taking a certain course of action, there’s a damn good reason for it. I’m just glad you’ve landed on your feet and you’re happy. Hopefully it stays that way for the forseeable future.

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