I noticed in another thread, that most of TL seems to be far removed from violence or think it only happens in movies, which is very much not true, so I felt compelled to comment on the issue. A few people responded with incredulity and asked me for credentials/proof/a story etc, so I decided to write up an account of a fight I was involved in many years ago. Years which now put me far outside the statute of limitations. All names have been changed in this story, and I'm not going to name the exact city it occurred in. Anyway, it turned out to be a lot longer than I expected, but I think it's entertaining enough to warrant the length. So, here it is:
It was 10th grade. My friend, a Colombian guy who liked to sprinkle his joints with angel dust and party hard on the weekends, invited me to a Friday night party in a ghetto ass neighborhood where he was going to hook up with some girl he'd started talking to. He said there'd be a ton of hot chicks there and we hadn't hung out in a while, since he didn't go to my school anymore, so I told him, "Cool. Sounds good."
We didn't go to the same school anymore because during summer school between 9th and 10th grade one of the teachers accused him of breaking the A/C. At my school, a lot of the classrooms were held in portable trailers, because there was a massive overflow of students and the education system couldn't cope. So they just carted in a bunch of trailer homes and taught us in those.
Anyhow, the A/C in these trailers was just a window unit. In Florida, it gets hot as balls in the summer, so if the A/C breaks everyone's in a miserable mood. Plus, we're talking 40-45 kids crammed in here. So, yeah, his A/C was broken. And the teacher freaked out and tried to blame him, saying he would have to pay for it. Now, my friend, lets call him Xavier, came from a poor family. His mom and dad never married. His dad was a businessman in Colombia, who sporadically sent money to support his sons. His mom was a single mother raising two boys. Xavier was the oldest by five years. His mom didn't work from what I could see but I never explicitly asked him.
Back to the A/C. The teacher accused him. My friend got mad. The teacher got in his face and started yelling. My friend raised his hand to point back in the teacher's face. It's kind of a ghetto thing, they like to gesture a lot and point right in each other's faces when they're arguing. He did that, the teacher reacted like he was getting punched and swung at Xavier. Xavier ducked and kicked him in the balls and they started rolling around on the floor while all the kids cheered and went nuts. Obviously, the end result was my friend getting expelled. And because that teacher was the baseball coach for our school, which was doing really well at the time with a lot of players getting scouted by UF, he got away with throwing a punch at a student scot-free. It also helped that the witness reports were erratic, with some claiming the teacher tried to grab him, others saying the teacher tried to punch him, and others saying Xavier attacked first.
Regardless, Xavier now went to a special remedial school for expelled kids, so we didn't get to hang out that much. In 10th grade, only a few kids had cars, neither of us being one of them. But we used to be best friends. We started a breakdancing crew together, we formed a motley gang and fought the blacks and the druggie kids, the cubans and the PRs. Every other weekend we used to run a little fight club in my backyard. All of us would come over to my house with grub and sparring gloves and we'd just beat the hell out of each other for fun. Then we'd watch movies and wrestle and at night we'd go fuck about at an outdoor shopping mall and hit on the girls. So, I definitely missed the guy, and this sounded like a great time to hang out with him again.
After he told me about the party, I called a bunch of my friends, mostly from our old gang, and tried to sell them on the idea. Some of them weren't too happy about the hood we'd have to go to because it was far from where most of us lived. That was bad for two reasons. One, we couldn't get dropped off by our parents. Two, it'd be in an area with a bunch of people we didn't like. See, our gang didn't just fight people from our own high school. By the beginning of 10th grade, we'd already established our dominance there and rarely had any problems. My big brother was a senior when I came in as a freshman, and was a big cutup himself, so he linked us up with the shot-callers on day one. We smoke and drank with em for a few weekends, they liked us, and soon enough gave us the stamp of approval and backed us in our fights. After that, we picked a fight with the 4 other groups who thought they could run shit and stomped em all. So, by the time of the party, nobody in the school wanted to fuck with us anymore.
But, we still got in fights all the time. Why? Because on the weekends we'd go out to the night clubs and pool halls. And we'd ball at the local YMCA. At all these places, we'd run into kids from other schools who didn't know us or didn't respect us. So fights would break out. After a while, most everyone knew us. Especially the bouncers at the clubs. We were outright banned from most of em. The fights were always over something stupid. A hard foul on a layup, stepping on a shoe at the pool hall, fingering someone else's bitch on the dance floor, etc. Point is, we made a lot of enemies. Chances were pretty good we'd see some of them at this party.
Course, that didn't stop us from going to the party. It just meant we had to invite some annoying kids, whose parents were rich and bought them cars soon as they turned fifteen. And we needed enough of those kids to give all of our friends rides, coz God knows none of us hoodrat mfers had a car. I mean, my parents were rich. I lived in a mansion at the time. That's why everyone always came to my house on the weekends to hang out. But I didn't get a car. Mostly because my brother had already totalled two of them by the time he was eighteen and I thought he was a spoiled bitch for that and wanted to go the opposite route of not spending any of my parents' money. Or at least as little of it as I could.
It took a few days to arrange all the rides, but eventually we got a group of 14 guys and 6 girls who were down to go. I rode with this Jordanian dude named Sami in his white Lexus SUV. He was kind of a bitch. He always wore plaid button downs, leaving it hanging open like he was an ese, yet gelled his hair into this fking pineapple helmet, like an A&F preppy kid. And he sprayed cologne all over the fucking place. Tommy mfking Hilfiger. It smelled like shit. He also always kept fidgeting with this watch, which he tried to show off to everyone and called his "bling." It was just a fucking watch. To make him even more of a wannabe, he had this tattoo in Arabic around his belly button. No clue what the tattoo said. But I just remember we laughed our asses off when he tried to show it off. WTF kind of dude gets a tattoo around his belly button? That was something hoes did. To top it off, he was super husky, so it's not even all tidy sixpack beach bum tattoo. It's this distended fat gut thing, which draws your eyes to his bellybutton and vaguely reminds you of a dirty asshole. There's not a single aesthetically pleasing aspect of it. Yet, he got it. And kept bragging how most ppl can't get tattoos at sixteen. But his mom spoils his ass because she's Arabic and he's an only son, so she paid for his idiot ink. And his Lexus SUV.
Whatever. His ride fit 6 ppl besides him, so he was golden. His parents never gave him shit about curfew either, so I knew he wouldn't flake out midway thru the party and leave us stranded without a ride. He was always trying to be down with the homies. All it took was feeding him a few shots right off the bat and he'd sit on a couch all night talking about how wasted he was.
Aside from him, we had this dude called Talib. He was a hardcore ghetto Israeli mfer. Now, usually, you don't think of Jews as hardcore or ghetto. But Tariq wasn't Jewish. He was muslim. A Muslim from Israel is a bitter, angry, realpolitik kind of guy. That's just how their environment grows them. He came to the US when he was 11, and learned English listening to Tupac, Warren G, and DMX tapes. He smoked so much he already sounded like an old man. And he never got out of the habit of spitting on the ground. This mfer, in the middle of class, he'd just fucking hock one on the ground. Carpeted floor and everything. He would not give a shit. The teacher would always look at him like WTF and tell him to clean it up, at which point he'd just sort of grind the phlegm into the floor with his shoe. She'd send him to the office, but they gave him a break most of the time because they could tell he was mad fobby.
For some reason, Latino girls loved this motherfucker. Not sure why. Maybe coz he was buff. He was pretty shredded, especially for 15. And he had facial hair and everything, a real Romeo looking mfer. He had Arabic tattoos too. All over his forearms and neck. Lines from the Qur’an. He didn’t ever talk about his faith, or seem to be very pious, but what do I know? A man’s faith is between him and his God. But yeah, this dude was always swimming in pussy. Hairsprayed, hoop-earringed, drawn eyebrows, cholo ass girls, but that shit was a line out the damned door.
SO why was he coming to the party? Coz he had an older brother. Let’s call him Hakim. Hakim was twenty-one and sort of worked at a hookah lounge/café. But I never saw this lazy motherfucker do a damned thing whenever I stopped by to pick up some hummus and a shawerma and shoot the shit with Talib. He’d just sit outside, at an iron cast table, in a plastic white chair, smoking hookah and yammering away in Arabic to a bunch of other dudes who didn’t seem to do anything.
Now Hakim was kind of an ugly mfer. He didn’t pull bitches like Talib did. No matter how hard he tried to be gangster. But he could fight. Crazy as hell. He’d take hard punches straight to the face and just walk right on through. And he had a thing for younger girls. Like fourteen-fifteen. Probably because older girls could tell he was a deadbeat hash-head who hung around outside clubs on teen night trying to catch jailbait.
But he had a car. And he hounded Talib for days when I mentioned in passing that I was going to the party. He could smell the young meat and wouldn’t miss it for the world. So, along with the Lexus SUV, we had in our convoy a ghetto ass beat up old black Camaro with a bumper about to fall off.
The third car was a sleek ass burgundy Escalade, driven by this scrawny Indian dude named Amar. Amar came from a wealthy family. His dad was a heart doctor. His mom was a homemaker. He was the oldest son and only had two younger twin sisters who went to middle school with my little brother and had big crushes on him. Aman was a year older than me, Sami was too, and looked kind of goofy. He had bugged out eyes and a hook nose on a tiny face and a tiny body. He was like a brown-skinned Hindu goblin. If that goblin listened to Snoop Dog every damned day that is. This guy had thick ass gold earrings, one on each ear, that gave him this rogueish pirate look, and a big ass gold chain around his neck with AMAN in glittery 14K letters.
He talked like Snoop Dogg too. A slow drawl, kind of high pitched, with a weird hyena sort of laugh every now and then. Guy was a total pothead. Guy hit the bong every chance he could get. Got good grades in school. Always straight A’s. But as soon as you get this guy out of the classroom and into his black Escalade, it was 20 inch subs blowing out the back, shotguns and hotboxes, and a small collection of handguns stashed all over the damned car. He had a .22, a .45, and a 9mil. He’d always polish em and hold em using a cloth and sniff em telling me they were his babies. I sort of didn’t give a fuck, but figured if I ever needed a piece he would be a useful guy to talk to.
I liked Aman though. He might have been skinny and totally worthless in a fight, but he was funny as hell, I never got bored of looking at his bugged out facial expressions, and for some reason girls took a shine to him. He was very self-assured and confident, despite his strange looks and short height. He had this disgusting fucking habit though. He’d always come by while I was chilling in the cut, stand real close to me, and be like, “Hey, hey playboy, you know what I been doing?”
Of course I’d say, “What?”
Then he’d lift his skinny brown fingers right up under my nose, waving it back and forth, and go “Poking the pinnnnnnnnk!! Can you smell what dis Rock is cooking????” Which was fucking horrid, because who knew what skankbag he’d been fingerbanging? I sure as hell didn’t want to sniff the old ass tuna he’d been catching. And Aman was a sick motherfucker. I wouldn’t put it past him to stick a finger in a girl’s ass and try to get me to sniff the poo. But he was an alright dude. He brought two girls and 3 of our other friends with him: This giant ass Black-Hawaiian-Japanese dude, this short, really horny Viet guy, and a white boy named Brian.
Brian was a tall guy. Like 6’2” already in 10th grade. He had long ass strawberry blonde hair like a surfer guy, big broad shoulders, 18 inch guns for arms, and for some strange reason, this motherfucker loved cheerleading. Now, I’m not saying he liked cheerleaders. We all loved those skirt-wearing sluts. No, this motherfucker WAS a cheerleader. He lifted the girls up and shit, doing stunts and all that. I have no clue why. He’d always just say it’s what he liked to do and left it at that. But we gave him shit for it all damned day.
Brian could fight though. HUGE hands on this guy. Made fists the size of cannon balls. And he didn’t have no squeamishness about violence. There was no bitch side to this casper. He had a quiet rage in him. A gentle giant for the most part, but sometimes, something would tick him off, and he’d go all red-faced and then the jackhammers would come out. I couldn’t tell you exactly what his map looked like, but when people walked into his shit-zones things were guaranteed pop off.
It’s probably because his dad died when he was in middle school. Dude was a race car driver. Real cool. Looked a lot like Brian. But he got in an accident and they had to give him a ton of blood transfusions. Turns out, one of the packets of blood was tainted with HIV. Back then, HIV was pretty damned new. There weren’t the treatments for it like people have now. So his dad died. And he didn’t like telling nobody about it, because back then everyone thought only gays and prostitutes got HIV.
His mom had taken it hard too. I didn’t know if she had HIV. I never asked. But it always sort of hovered in the back of my mind when I went over to his house. Was worried I might catch it, you know? Didn’t stop me from being Brian’s friend though. His mom was a total alcoholic though. She routinely tried to hit on Brian’s friends that came over. And sometimes she’d just walk out to the lawn outside and scream her head off, or start giving a speech in gibberish. Brian would sort of duck his head and get all red-faced when that happened, but I didn’t think it was a big deal. Only that she was outside in lingerie might be sort of embarrassing. You could tell his mom used to be a total hottie. But she’d gained weight and the alcohol was taking its toll, so now she just looked sad.
It’s probably exhausting to read all this, and I didn’t realize it’d go on this long without even mentioning the fight, but it’s hard to explain why and what people did without some of the background info.
Right, so on to the last car. The last car was driven by this white-Filipino dude named London. London was another big guy, similar in stature to Brian, dark-skinned with kind of a Curious George sort of face. Real monkey-headed motherfucker. Not very good looking. Huge hands and feet. His favorite line to girls was “You know what big hands mean!” And then he’d take his big ass paws and try to palm the girl’s face.
He wasn’t too popular with the girls. Sort of similar to Hakim. Ran the same sort of game. But since he was 15, it wasn’t quite as bad that he went for 13-14 yr olds. He was the size of a full-grown man though. Good at fighting. Islander people always seem to be pretty savage in my experience, and London was no exception. He liked to fight and did it with a smile on his face. I met him only 2 years ago, in middle school. When he first got there, he was trying to be real chummy with everyone, smiling and clowning around, which I found annoying. So I threw his ass against the lockers, held him down with an elbow, and told him I’d fuck him in the mouth if he kept opening it. It made a strong first impression.
After about half a year though, some of my friends kept insisting he was a cool guy so I told them it was okay to bring him around. He had mellowed out by then, wasn’t trying so damned hard, and when we got caught up in a fight a few days later he jumped in without any hesitation, so he was alright in my book. Still, something about him always got under my nerves. He had this big broad smile, but it wasn’t friendly. It was more of a leer, like he was imagining rubbing his dick on you. And he came off as a pedo, even at sixteen.
He was also one of those dudes who was all about the girls. He didn’t like to kick it with the homies. Whenever we were chilling, he’d always be on some “Let’s go to the club, let’s go to the mall, let’s holla at some bitches,” shit. Constant. It was annoying. But he was handy in a fight and I liked his younger brother, who was a year younger than us and a lot more charismatic, so I didn’t make a big shit out of it. He also had a car. A Toyota SUV, forget the model. It was some generic shit. His dad was a car salesman so he got a sweetheart deal on it. Big though, could fit lots of people. He brought this younger girl with him, along with a few of our other friends. I think the girl’s name was Katie. She was a wee bit on the chub side, not fat but thick legged. She got an A for effort though. Wore the tiniest white miniskirt you could imagine and a black thong underneath. Class out the ears.
Before I forget too, I should probably describe myself. I’m 5’8”, Chinese, and weigh 165 lbs. I started lifting in 7th grade. By the 10th grade, I was lifting 255 max bench and curling 65s no problem. I did plyometrics and German volume training, was on a protein diet, with weekend carb cycling. I had a personal trainer that came over twice a week and a $35,000 Cybex and free-weight gym in my house.
My parents were really well off so they tended to indulge us kids monetarily. They were real strict with the corporal punishment when we were younger, but started to soften up over time. I guess they felt bad.
When I was in elementary school, my mom threw a steel brush at me and it tore my face up pretty bad. When I went to school, which was a private preparatory, they immediately called Child Services who came to my house and started asking all of us questions. After that, for a year, the cops would pull me into an office once a week and tell me to take off my clothes. They’d take pictures of me and document each of my bruises etc, to make sure I wasn’t being abused at home. It wasn’t fun to say the least.
I also got put in anger management classes. I should probably give a quick summary of my violent history. In kindergarten, I broke a kid’s nose by placing a wooden block in front of the tricycle he was riding. My logic was that I wanted to ride the tricycle, and he’d been using it double the amount of time he was supposed to, so he was in the wrong and should be punished. Our teacher had this strange sharing policy for toys. You were only allowed to use a toy for half of recess. The second half, you were supposed to surrender it and let another kid use it. But he didn’t. When I told him he was breaking the rules, he told me to shut up. So I did and solved it in my own way. I honestly didn’t understand why the teacher got so upset.
In first grade, I broke a kid’s arm by pulling his leg while he was trying to climb up a high slide. I did so because he cut me in line, and when I complained, he called me a chink. In second grade, I shoved a kid’s head in a locker and then kicked him in the nuts repeatedly. I think he said something about my Chinese lunch being dog meat. In fourth grade, that Child Services thing happened, so after that school year was over my mom pulled me out of that school and sent me to another one because she was pissed about the whole thing. I got in a fight that year to help my older brother. The guy he was fighting had him trapped in a headlock, so I came up from behind and stabbed the guy with a branch I’d found on the floor. I got suspended two weeks for that.
In fifth grade, while on a Boy Scouts camping trip, I led the troop in demolishing a jeep, which was being restored by a guy who lived in the area. (We didn’t know. It looked like an abandoned wreck to us). I also beat up a kid and threw him in a trash can that year, and then kicked the trash can in around his head so he couldn’t get out and almost suffocated. I got kicked out of Duke’s TIP program because of that. I did it because I was dating the girl he liked at the time. So to “get back at me” he spread cookie crumbs all over my fucking bed when I was in class. Unfortunately, the guy was a moron because the day before he’d made a big stink about how his grandma had just sent him home-baked chocolate chip cookies. Guess what kind of fucking crumbs were on my bed? That’s right. Chocolate fucking chip.
For some reason, he seemed to think I wouldn’t do anything about it. I don’t know why. Maybe where he comes from, people can just shit all over each other and the other guy will take it. Not in my world though. So I put him where he belonged, in the fucking trash. TIP called my mother, telling her I was an animal and completely unfit for their program, and that she would have to come pick me up right away. Since we lived in Florida, and the program was at some college on the east coast, I forget where, I don’t think it was Duke though, that proved to be a huge inconvenience and I got an earful the whole way home. We also didn’t get a refund for the ridic amount of money they had spent to send me there. A couple thousand at least. I got in because I scored a 1260 on my SAT in 5th grade. All the kids there were like that. Most were smarter though. There was some third grader with a veiny forehead who was already doing Calculus.
I was just happy because while at camp I fingered a girl for the first time, this brunette white girl named Blaire. She had sweet cheeks and a nice smile and a soft sort of personality. No clue why she liked me, but she did quite a lot, so things moved along pretty quick. She was the girl that cookie guy liked, so I guess in the end I made out alright with my TIP experience.
In sixth grade, my mom had enough of driving all of us boys around to different private schools and decided to enroll us in public school. You see, me and my big brother were major fuck ups, so we got expelled from 4-5 schools apiece. Problem is, the schools we got expelled from weren’t the same. So my mom was scrambling all over town in our Range Rover at 5:30 AM in the morning, trying to get us all where we needed to go. She was pissed to say the least. Every other morning started with her scream hysterically or beating one of us in the face. A lot of times, she didn’t even have the energy for that, so she’d delegate the punishment and have us hit each other, which I took to with glee. I get to smack my big bro in the grill for free? Hell yes!
After I went to public school, that’s when shit really spun out of control. I’d been in private school all my life. I was Chinese, supppper advanced academically, yet was habituated to extreme violence. I didn’t take well to “the system,” to say the least. I should probably mention here that my father used to be a gangster in Taiwan. He was in Bamboo United. He got sent to the States when he was in his early twenties by his father, to study at UMD-CP, because gramps was worried my dad would go down the wrong path. The straw that broke the camel’s back was one time when my dad and his friends got in a random gang fight. They used to ride around on motorcycles and hack up rival gang members with katanas back then. Anyhow, one of his friends took a katana straight to the arm. They could see the bone, and blood was all over the place, so they rushed him to the hospital.
The doctors refused to treat him, because he was obviously a gangster, and they didn’t want the trouble. They also didn’t have beds available or so they claimed. In response, my dad and his friends started beating up other patients and tossing them out of beds. The MPs got called in, and there was a stand-off with assault rifles and katanas in the middle of the ward, and it turned into a huge clusterfuck because my dad’s dad was a retired government official who used to be a very high rank, and a lot of his friends were the sons of generals and politicians as well, and the MPs knew that so they were hesitant to do anything rash but they couldn’t very well let a gang rampage through a prestigious hospital in the middle of Taipei either. (For some reason, Taiwanese guys are either super studious or in gangs. There isn’t much middle ground. And the KMT had and still has a lot of gangsters in their ranks. Many of their sons naturally were gangsters too. Most of them are politicians and businessmen now. I see them now and again when I go to Taiwan.)
Long story short, after that he got shipped off to the USA, met my mom, got married, had kids, and moved to Florida, where one of them was now engaging in brawls of one sort or another on a weekly basis because nobody gave him any respect. Middle school was where I assembled my crew, beat up all the other ones, mostly black kids because they came from the real bad neighborhoods and thought they were gangster, and founded a new dynasty. See, all the black kids grouped together into two rival gangs based on their neighborhood, while everyone else was sort of just a hodgepodge.
There weren’t enough Muslim kids to form their own gangs. There sure as hell weren’t enough Asians. There were like ten total in a middle school of 1,200 kids. The Latino kids were spread out between Cubans, Brazilians, PRs, and then there were a few random Colombians, Peruvians, Dominicans etc. The Cubans stuck to their own, same with the PRs, and Brazilians, but none of them mattered much because there were way less of them than the black kids. Plus the Brazilians just sat around all day wearing soccer jerseys, asking girls for BJs, and failing at their classes. Not really an assertive bunch. And despite being the majority, 95% of the white boys were pussies. The other 5% played football or baseball and were too scared of getting injured to fight. They were too focused on trying to get a scholarship at a big college one day.
I stepped into that vacuum, recruiting the best fighters from each of the smaller groups, and formed us into a sort of super-gang, UN-style. I did this for the most part by beating each of them up. They became my friends after losing. By the end of 7th grade, I’d tore through quite a number of them, so the rest just fell in line. Never got in a fight with Brian, Talib, or Xavier though. Although, Xavier and I came close to it when we first met. There was some slutty girl I couldn’t stand and she tried to instigate a fight between us by giving Xavier BJs and telling him I called her a hoe in class. Which is true, but I saw what was going on and took him aside one day when he was bulldogging me, and told him real diplomatically that I had a knife stashed somewhere in the hallway in case he tried anything, but that a real man knows better than to fight over a bitch. He agreed and after that we slowly became friends. By the end of eight grade, we were really tight, and had helped each other out in half a dozen fights.
So, to fiiiiinally get back to the party, we showed up in a big ass convoy of what, four-five cars? OK, that’s right. Lexus, Camaro, Escalade, Toyota. Sorry if this shit is all over the place. I’m sort of recollecting as I go.
We go into the party, and it’s pretty legit. There’s three kegs in the bathtub. A bunch of bottles of Captain Morgan’s, Bacardi 151, and some cheap ass Seagram’s whiskey. Black lights everywhere. Skanky girls in miniskirts and short shorts just strewn all over the place, a lot of them with thongs riding high on their hips. London and Hakim got excited as fuck.
A lot of dudes too, though. Apparently, the house was owned by a Cambodian guy and a TON of his cousins had come thru. Down here in Florida, the Cambodians are allll related. There’s like 40-50 of the mfers. They all went to diff schools, but outside of school they rolled deep as fuck. Guns, knives, always on them. And they were old heads. A lot of them lied on their papers when they immigrated to the US. There were thirty-two year old fucking Cambo guys, pretending to be 16 yrs old so they could get a high school diploma. But they were dark and Asian and fucking weird looking to the caspers, so nobody even noticed. You got any idea how weird it is to meet a guy in class, talk to him, and in passing he mentions he was born in 1969? IN THE FUCKING SIXTIES.
Anyhow, they were okay. I wasn’t real fond of them, because I kind of looked down on how dysfunctional they were and they all seemed to be going nowhere fast. Most of them worked as delivery boys for their parents’ Chinese restaurants (LOL), worked as mechanics at a body shop, or slanged. But there was no beef. Or at least at the time there wasn’t. They didn’t seem too happy about us rolling in with a totally fucked guy:girl ratio though. It’s considered good form to bring as much pussy as you’re going to take from the party. We had some playboy mfers in our crew, so a lot of us were going to get play, but all the girls we brought already belonged to one of our guys. So it was all take no give. They didn’t like that.
Plus, the reason we were here in the first place, was because of Xavier, who was meeting the cousin of the guy who owned the house. So not only were we not bringing bitches, one of our dudes was banging their cousin. A non-Asian dude. They didn’t like that. They liked me though, coz I was Asian, and they respected my rep. Plus, I didn’t touch Cambo or Viet girls. They weren’t to my taste. I liked white girls at the time. Not anymore.
In my city, Viets and Cambos all mixed together. Chinese and Korean were vastly outnumbered. Hardly any of us. And most Chinese/Koreans were real quiet kids. Went to church or piano lessons and didn’t cause any trouble. I was very much an exception. A lot of the Viets and Cambos banged though. They liked to drop acid and roll E and everybody put it in the air. Their hoes were mostly Viet and Latino. The Cambo girls were fam, so that was off limits. They didn’t like seeing their own blood out there skanking it up with other guys, but Cambo girls don’t seem to be as submissive as the E. Asians. A lot of them got rowdy, fought, drank, threw guns in the air, and were just as gangster as their male counterparts. And they sure as hell didn’t care if their cousin saw them take a strange guy to a room.
It took about an hour for us to really settle in. Everyone had a drink and a joint and most of us were chilling on a couch with an arm over a girl’s shoulders, just talking or making out mostly. Viets and Cambos weren’t my thing, but it didn’t mean I wasn’t friendly or opposed to sharing a joint. Some of my friends weren’t getting play though. Sami wasn’t, coz he’s Sami. Brian wasn’t coz he’s wonderbread as fuck and the Asian girls weren’t really feeling that. He looked way too surfer too. Which is a shame, coz Brian looooved short girls. The shorter the better. He likes to toss em around the room and turn em upside down and shit. It’s a cheerleader thing I think. And Asian girls are really midget. But they weren’t feeling it. So he just drank and goofed off. Aman had his own girl so he just chilled and cracked jokes. Talib was getting into it with a Viet girl and they looked like they were heading to a backroom pretty soon. Xavier was doing his thing, slow playing it on account of all the cousins around. London was trying to run game, but not succeeding, and Hakim was getting a bit surly because nothing was happening for him either. The rest of the guys kind of clustered around Brian or me, looking a little shy while trying to play it cool.
I was talking to some Viet girl named Lin with a tongue piercing, a neck tattoo, and blonde highlights in her hair. She was kind of hot, to be honest, in a SE Asian hooker kind of way. Long, skinny legs, strappy high heels, and pouty lips with dark eyeliner. Wasn’t my thing at the time, I was sort of talking to a cheerleader, but as the night wore on I was feeling her more and definitely would have been down for some play.
But that’s when shit went south. We started hearing screaming from outside and some of the Cambo guys went out to see what was going on. A moment later, there was more shouting, guys this time, and we heard the sound of fighting. Fists connecting and shit. That’s when I got up and went over to have a look at the window. Outside, three of the Cambo guys were kicking the shit out of this Latino dude, while one of their girl cousins was kneeling in the grass crying. Apparently, the girl and guy had gotten in an argument and he’d punched her in the mouth. Ridiculously stupid, if you ask me. Who the fuck goes to a girl’s house party, where her fam is at, and hits her in the mouth?
We all laughed and cheered em on and came outside to have a golf clap moment while they pummeled the dude, and eventually the girls broke it up after the dude had been mashed pretty good. One of his eyes was swollen shut and he was bloodied up and stumbling real bad. We just watched while he slowly limped over to his car, got in, and sat there bleeding and breathing heavy. Then he turned the engine and left.
The guys stood around outside, smoking blunts and talking about what happened, while the girls hovered around their wounded sister and comforted her. The guy who got beat up was her boyfriend, but she’d caught him cheating and confronted him about it. His solution was to hit her. The Cambo guys declared he was a persona non grata and with the problem resolved everyone went back in. Until a whole bunch of new cars started showing up an hour or so later.
It was about 2:30 AM at this point, and a lot of us were baked and sleepy. But a bunch of Latino dudes jumped out of the cars, wearing sweatpants, wifebeaters, and old kicks, cursing and throwing random shit at the house. We took one look at their clothes and knew that motherfucker had called his whole crew out to fight. Down here, nobody wears sweatpants unless they’re working out, painting a fence, or are headed for a fight. Usually, they’d be rocking Phat Farm or Ecko Jeans, do rags, and some oversized ENYCE shirts. But wife beaters and sweat pants? Only one thing they could be looking for.
Now, this wasn’t necessarily my fight. Nor my crew’s. But we had drank and smoked quite a bit of the Cambo’s shit. Some of us had fucked their bitches. It just seemed wrong to sneak out the back and run for the hills. So, without much of a discussion, I got up and headed for the front with the Cambos. Xavier saw me walking, so he came along, and after that it was pretty much a chain effect.
There were about fifteen or so Latino dudes, which was a respectable number. Since it was 2:30 AM, very likely he’d called them all just as they were coming out the clubs. Some of them were big guys, shaved heads, tattoos, older looking. One of them looked straight out of prison, blue eyed and pale, Cuban as fuck, with huge arms. But all of them looked like they could fight. They didn’t bring no clowns with em.
On our side, we had about thirty Asian guys and I had brought 14 of my crew in total, but 7 of my guys were useless in a fight. It was really only Talib, me, Xavier, Brian, London, the Black-Hawaiian dude, I’ll call him Yoshi, and Hakim.
Among the thirty Asian guys, a third were flat out wannabes. Tiny, weak, and useless. Out of the other twenty, there were maybe five that had it in ‘em. You got to remember. These guys were all hanging out together because they were fam. My crew was a core of guys who came together because we were buck wild savages who flat out loved to fight along with a peripheral group that we found useful or funny in some way or another. So our ratio of can-fight to can’ts was a lot higher than normal.
All the Cambos would TRY to fight, but most of them would just get beat the fuck up. The five who could fight were some mean motherfuckers though. Older dudes, who had seen some real funky shit in their motherland. I was pretty sure any of them could hand me my ass no problem.
But, here we all were, spread out on the lawn and along the street. Shit talk went both ways. The Cambo guys wanted to start things up again solely on the basis of their cousin getting punched and this asshole having the balls to come back here with his crew. The Latino guys were pissed their boy got stomped out and wanted to represent. But they also weren’t too keen on wading through a thousand Asian motherfuckers reinforced with a number of big ass dudes. I’m pretty sure that Latino dude called them all up saying he got jumped by a bunch of little Chinks. No shame in losing 10v1. I doubt he mentioned anything about swoll ass Chinese, white, Filipino, or Black-Hawaiians.
So, everyone just shit talked. A few of us headed over to the cars though and started unpacking our gear just in case. Bats and knives mostly. Aman was all ready to wave a piece around, but we told him not to be a dumbass. Nobody else was showing heat, so why the fuck would we? Plus, we were at a fucking house. They could easily just run away and call the cops saying someone had pulled a gun on them. We kept the clappers where they were.
That sort of set the Latino guys off though. They all jumped back in their cars and started pulling out toys of their own. Knives, bats, chains, pipes. One dude had a hockey stick. Another had fucking nunchucks lol.
We all started mean mugging and the talk died down, because nobody really wanted to get into it now. Not with all this gear out in the open. You kind of lose some of that heat when you imagine getting clocked with a baseball bat. At the same time, when you’re holding a weapon in your hand, there’s a greater sense of confidence. You feel like you got an edge. So you’re not as hyped up to start shit, but you’re not gonna hesitate if shit does pop off. I mean, honestly, when you hold a bat, first instinct you have is to swing it right? That’s how we all feel. When we got a weapon, we want to use that shit. We’re just looking for a reason to.
Then some crazy asshole goes over and just fucking kicks the bumper off Hakim’s car. His had the bad luck of being parked across the street, where the Latinos had all pulled up, so we would all have to cross over to stop the guy. And that’s what Hakim did. His car might be a broke down piece of shit, but it was HIS piece of shit. He fucking went off. Started cursing loud as fuck in heavily accented English and bumrushed the guy with a baseball bat in his hands.
We weren’t about to just stand there and watch him and Talib get shanked by a dozen Spics, so the rest of us went too. The guy who was kicking his car got kind of scared and tried to back up onto a neighbor’s lawn but Hakim wasn’t having none of that. He fucking cranked it back and just smashed this dude in the shoulder with the bat. Guy went rolling across the floor and Hakim kept bashing him with the bat. He started screaming bloody murder and then I didn’t get to see anymore because I had problems of my own.
I had a bat as well. I vastly prefer that shit to knives because it’s got a lot longer reach, it’s a lot easier to do damage with it and NOT lose hold of it, and for the most part the damage isn’t anything crazy. A busted rib or jaw, nobody’s going to call the cops. A fucking shank in the throat is a murder. And that shit is serious.
But some of these stupid Latino motherfuckers were waving switchblades around and trying to stab people. They weren’t any good with it though. You could tell they didn’t know their shit. My dad had taught me how to use knives, just like he taught me how to hold a meat cleaver to chop up a duck. It was just something I should learn.
He also taught me a lot of ways to counter a knife. Pick up a bar stool and whack someone in the wrist when they try to stab you. Keep distance and use a jacket to bind his arm. If you don’t have a jacket, take your shirt off, put a shoe or a salt shaker or an ash tray in it, and fucking swing that at his knife hand. In the absolute worst case scenario, rush in close and grab his elbow so he can’t get any power behind a thrust. Shit like that. Anyhow, not a fan of knives. You need to be really good to use them effectively, and that’s some Navy Seals shit. An effective knife wielder kills people. Way too fucking extreme for a typical fight.
These guys were idiots, though. Big dudes, muscular, but they were waving these knives around all crazy style. All show, no dough. Talib, Xavier, and me laid into them with bats and a lot of them lost their knives. The nunchuk guy was a total joke. Waved it around a few times and then got knocked the fuck out by two Cambo dudes who just took hits to the face, walked right through it, and smashed him in the mouth with fists.
Their jail looking dude was their best fighter. Yoshi and Xavier tried to take him on together. Yoshi was tall, big, but kind of soft. He looked a lot more intimidating than he actually was. But he could take a lot of hits and that’s what he did, getting straight up pummeled while Xavier skirted around and laid in big hits from the sides. The Latino dude could take it too though, and him and Yoshi were both red-faced and pulped up with welts on their faces and smashed noses by the end of it. Talib closed that one out though, coming from the side and just WHOMPING that dude in ribs when he reached out to grab Yoshi’s dreads. His arms were extended and his feet planted, while he was trying to throw Yoshi to the ground, so he took it full in the ribs and just started screeching in pain. Later, we heard he had a collapsed lung and two broken ribs. Had to wear a tube for a week or some shit while the lung slowly reinflated.
London got a gash on his arm and side from a butterfly knife and Brian’s shirt sleeves somehow got torn off and someone pulled a bloody chunk of his long hair out lol. Other than Yoshi, Hakim got the worst of it because he charged ahead of everybody else. Somebody had kicked him in the face and broken his nose while he was rolling around on the ground with the other guy. He didn’t care though. He was laughing like a maniac while swinging wildly. Hakim was the type of guy who laughed at pain right up until the point it makes him pass out. Berserker mfer.
I actually didn’t even get touched. I waited for others to get occupied and then came in from the side and laid in big hits. Just moved around from fight to fight, tipping it in our favor. Anytime someone came at me, I’d back up and throw short, defensive swings at their arms. They’d realize I wasn’t an easy target and back away. Then I’d just look around for the next place to lay in damage.
By the end, we’d won, with only four of our guys busted up. One of the Cambos took a nasty cut on the forehead, which was bleeding A LOT, like his face was covered in blood and it looked fucking horrid with a flap of skin hanging off, but he insisted it was nothing and just ran into the house and put a big ass cotton gauze over it with a loop of tape around his whole damned head. Yoshi was kind of fucked up. London and Brian a little tore up. And Hakim. Other than that, we were totally okay.
The Latinos had 6 guys really fucked up, the guy who’d kicked Hakim’s bumper was unconscious, lying in the grass, the big guy Talib, Xavier, and Brian had fought was gurgling in pain while hiding inside one of their cars, they had another dude who’s whole left side of his face was scraped off. I think he took a bad fall on the asphalt or something. Another guy was holding his hand close to his side, real awkwardly like it was broken. There was another guy with a twisted ankle and a busted nose and mouth leaning against the side of a car, looking like he was about to cry. And the last guy was unconscious, lying in the back seat of a car, dragged there by his friends. Me and London had caught him as he tried to run away and took turns kicking him in the face. One of them had caught him in the jaw and it was lights out after that.
The fight ended with them pretty much just running the fuck back to their cars. We let them go, because we had fucked up guys of our own and I mean what else were we going to do? Bash their car windows in and keep beating them? So we just let them go, which they did without much of a fuss, driving off fast as fuck with screeching tires and all, while we collected our hurt guys and brought em inside. The girls were pissed as FUCK, screaming at us for being dumbasses, and all sorts of other insulting shit, but you could tell they were just scared and upset because they ran around trying to get people ice and water and Neosporin and shit as soon as we were back inside.
I sat down in a corner of the living room and just fucking breathed. I didn’t get hit or hurt or anything, but still, when the adrenaline fades you get hit by this huge wave of nausea. I was light-headed as fuck, and I vomited into a bathroom sink, then just sat there for a while until the dizziness passed. Yoshi didn’t want to go the hospital. He just kept smoking weed. Hakim kept waving us off too, even though his nose looked nasty as fuck. He’s got that big Arabic schnozz, and that shit looked fucked six ways to Sunday all bloody and bent and shit, but he just rubbed some alcohol on that bih and tapped it gingerly now and then while breathing real loud through his mouth.
The neighbors had heard it too and a lot of lights had come on all up and down the block. This was a shitty neighborhood, but people still didn’t like that sort of thing, especially at 2AM. Someone definitely had called the cops, so as soon as we made sure everyone was okay and no crazy injuries, we got back in the cars and took off.
All in all, from the start of the fight where Hakim rushed them to the end where we ran back into the house, I’d say it was 4 minutes, maybe 5 max. To put that into perspective, the whole fight lasted a little less time than it takes for the first warp-ins of a 4gate. We called each other on our cell phones once in the cars, and as everybody calmed down down, we laughed about it and started recounting who we’d hit and how. Also, everybody was hungry as FUCK, so we drove over to a Steak and Shake on the other side of town. Only Aman didn’t go with us, coz the girls were pissed off and tired and traumatized. So he dropped all of them off at their homes in his SUV, and the rest of us ate burgers and pancakes and scrambled eggs while laughing our asses off.
Sami and the other guys who didn’t fight kept trying to make up shit how they were there and helped in some way, which was annoying as fuck, but we were in a good mood and they were giving us rides, so we let it slide. Hakim was probably the angriest one, bitching about his bumper, but at least he’d wrecked the guy who did it. Talib kept telling him the car was a piece of shit anyway, so in the end Sami had to give him a ride home coz Hakim took off on his own after he finished his burger without paying. Sort of as a fuck you to his brother for saying his car was shit.
And that was pretty much the end of the night for me. I went home, sat in my tub for about half an hour while letting the hot water run, and then dragged my ass to bed.
this shit sounds like a movie lol im like 7paragraphs in but im guessing this was like in the 90's maybe? gangs dont really go by ethnicity as much anymore at least from I see here in Miami. I know the west coast is a bit of a different story though.
Edit2 Finished : Good story, I really didnt want to spend 20 or so minutes reading it but once I started I was trapped. The best part was the intro to the party imo maybe because action is more entertaining when its being watched rather than read or maybe its because l'm somewhat familiar with these kinds of situations. I was involved in similar activities when I was around the same age so I got to see stuff like this go down
On January 17 2013 01:26 Obstikal wrote: this shit sounds like a movie lol im like 7paragraphs in but im guessing this was like in the 90's maybe? gangs dont really go by ethnicity as much anymore at least from I see here in Miami. I know the west coast is a bit of a different story though.
haha yeah, it was late 90's. Different nowadays. Plus the area I was in, a LOT of first-gen immigrants.
To Scorch: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it. A little sad you think I'm a bad person. If it makes you feel better, I'm not like that now. I am very much a pacifist. I was younger, and a lot angrier back then, and didn't know any better. Now I do .
Also, this shit reminds me of home in Macau. Mostly the knives part, I guess. Gangs over there have like an affinity with sashimi knives, yet the vast majority have no actual training with them.
On January 17 2013 02:04 Zahir wrote: quite a few parts in this story set off my bullshit detector ... but a good read nonetheless.
Same here but mostly about the fight itself but I figure he doesnt know 100% story being involved himself and had to fill the holes in based upon other stories and stuff, theres no way someone can be that observant during a chaotic fight like that. Unless they are trained
On January 17 2013 02:04 Zahir wrote: quite a few parts in this story set off my bullshit detector ... but a good read nonetheless.
...You should probably get your detector checked then, because everything I wrote is truth according to what I saw or others told me. Like Obstikal said, parts of the fight were filled in by the testimony of others, but aside from that it's all truth. Or at least as much truth as I can ever verify. The background of my friends is dependent on what I saw and what they told me. I have no idea if what they told me is 100% true, but it's their story so all I can do is share it.
Also, the entire point of this story was to put out something that's NOT bullshit. Wtf would I waste my time writing something fake as a rebuttal to a story that I thought was fake? Does that make any sense?? People need to stop acting like everything on the Internet is fake and anything that sounds outrageous or illogical must be a lie. Do you realize that life is FAR more outrageous and crazy than fiction? If you don't, then get off the keyboard and get out into the world. You're missing out.
Man, must be a shitty place to live if this is how 10th graders spend their time... knifes, drugs? In Sweden, anyone doing more than smoking cigarettes at that point is pretty much considered... you know... gettho trash? I was barely drinking at 15.
On January 17 2013 02:34 Tobberoth wrote: Man, must be a shitty place to live if this is how 10th graders spend their time... knifes, drugs? In Sweden, anyone doing more than smoking cigarettes at that point is pretty much considered... you know... gettho trash? I was barely drinking at 15.
well, I think it's pretty clear that most of these people where pretty ghetto?
Man Sweden sounds like a good place. I was introduced to drugs at the age of like 13 and started using at 14. My friends who introduced me started even earlier.
It seems pretty normal to me most people I know or in fact everyone I've met that drugs are so common now that its easily access by middle school. I guess thats just the US.
Lol sounds familiar kinda funny how all these sheltered kids posting things about how you dont sound like someone they want to know or that people are considered ghetto trash for spending time like this luckily this is in the minority and ive got similar experiences. You sound like someone fun to fight op
On January 17 2013 03:58 Obstikal wrote: Man Sweden sounds like a good place. I was introduced to drugs at the age of like 13 and started using at 14. My friends who introduced me started even earlier.
It seems pretty normal to me most people I know or in fact everyone I've met that drugs are so common now that its easily access by middle school. I guess thats just the US.
Edit: and for clarification I live in the suburbs
I mean, I know one city / some areas in Germany too where people hesitate to let their kids go out late because of Americans vs Russians vs Nazis or similar things, but that stuff is still extremely rare over here.
@OP: Great story, enjoyed reading it.
tl;dr: If you get into a fight with knives involved, expect to get stabbed/slashed. Also, you should know how to use the weapons you bring, otherwise you're gonna look pretty dumb. :o
Feels like I'm reading Catcher in the Rye with the way you're describing stuff. Seriously, I'm glad we've never met because I can tell you use violence and the fact that you think you're so badass as rationale to threaten other people because you feel that you're better.
Luckily I've never been in a real fight before.
Also, calling bullshit on like half of what you're saying. You're writing style changes back and forth and anyone with any sense can tell some of this is either rehashed from vivid memories or blatantly filler.
Biggest load of shit i think i have ever read in my 9 years on teamliquid and on the very small off chance this is true? You are a gigantic tool T.T
Edit "The MPs got called in, and there was a stand-off with assault rifles and katanas in the middle of the ward, and it turned into a huge clusterfuck because my dad’s dad was a retired government official who used to be a very high rank, and a lot of his friends were the sons of generals and politicians as well,"
On January 17 2013 05:25 Nebula wrote: Biggest load of shit i think i have ever read in my 9 years on teamliquid and on the very small off chance this is true? You are a gigantic tool T.T
Edit "The MPs got called in, and there was a stand-off with assault rifles and katanas in the middle of the ward, and it turned into a huge clusterfuck because my dad’s dad was a retired government official who used to be a very high rank, and a lot of his friends were the sons of generals and politicians as well,"
I mean C'mon
Can't say it matters. We aren't ever going to prove it either way, and weirder things have happened. For the moment, let's just treat it for what it is: a funny story told by some guy we don't know on the internet.
To Obstikal: yeah, sounds similar to my timeline. 12 yrs old started smoking pot. Started drinking two years after that. By fifteen, had tried quite a few things but no habits. Just experimented.
To Shouri: Haha, ah I'm no good anymore. I'm older now, and my bones are weak. Broke my right hand and elbow on two separate occasions. Hasn't been the same since. And tore my rotator cuff in college so a lot of the oomph is gone. I'm mostly just a mellow dude nowadays, do my thing and watch a lil Dota 2 and SC
And yeah, some of these comments are hilarious. I feel like I'm getting scolded by my grandma hahaha.
To Pulse: yeah man, that's the thing. Most people are fucking terrible at using weapons or even fighting in general. There's a vast difference between someone trained and someone who's just waving a wepaon around. Guns are the only weapon that really work effectively without much skill needed. People who can't fight are massively terrified of a knife, but it's really not that big of a deal. Majority of the time, it's just a tool for intimidation.
To sam: XD, I went to John Hopkin's CTY and CAA after that lol. Each time I went, I felt like a wolf set loose amongst the chickens. The other kids just came from a very different world. It's why I find the whole concept of segregation based on academic achievement and group education in general to be totally useless. Learning is an individual activity.
To evo: Lol, that's a pretty good summary.
To Butter: ...I don't expect a guy who's never been in a fight to understand anything about the mindset or culture involved. But why on Earth would you, as a guy who's never been in a fight, try to determine the legitimacy of a story entirely about fighting? You do realize how ridiculous of an idea that is, right? It's like you're so out of your element and unable to comprehend what's being described that you try to filter it through your attempt at a logical framework and if you find any inconsistencies you assume that must mean it's false. When in reality, what's happening is you're just flat out ignorant of how certain parts of the world work so you just assume it couldn't happen. But as you can see other people saying, they have had similar experiences and understand what I'm talking about.
Sigh. You try to show ppl the truth and they fight it tooth and nail. That's what's really sad to me.
On January 17 2013 05:25 Nebula wrote: Biggest load of shit i think i have ever read in my 9 years on teamliquid and on the very small off chance this is true? You are a gigantic tool T.T
Edit "The MPs got called in, and there was a stand-off with assault rifles and katanas in the middle of the ward, and it turned into a huge clusterfuck because my dad’s dad was a retired government official who used to be a very high rank, and a lot of his friends were the sons of generals and politicians as well,"
I mean C'mon
You don't know anything about Taiwan in the late 1970's do you?
Good story ... to be honest the tone is a lot like you're getting into creative writing but I wouldn't doubt that any of this happened.
On January 17 2013 04:58 Butterednuts wrote: Feels like I'm reading Catcher in the Rye with the way you're describing stuff. Seriously, I'm glad we've never met because I can tell you use violence and the fact that you think you're so badass as rationale to threaten other people because you feel that you're better.
Luckily I've never been in a real fight before.
Also, calling bullshit on like half of what you're saying. You're writing style changes back and forth and anyone with any sense can tell some of this is either rehashed from vivid memories or blatantly filler.
lol at all the people who've never thrown hands and feel like they can judge. "Feels like I'm reading Catcher in the Rye" ... do you know how ridiculous you sound??
nicely written. unimaginable for my hometown, though. Was at a school with 1400 pupils up to the age of 20, there were some rumors about drug usage for like 2 guys, I would not even have known where to buy weed.
On January 17 2013 05:35 SamsungStar wrote: To sam: XD, I went to John Hopkin's CTY and CAA after that lol. Each time I went, I felt like a wolf set loose amongst the chickens. The other kids just came from a very different world. It's why I find the whole concept of segregation based on academic achievement and group education in general to be totally useless. Learning is an individual activity.
lol I'm sure I would have been one of the chickens
You're quite right about age segregation and so on. Growing up I was rarely exposed to kids not in my direct age cohort - I don't think this was a good thing. I had a very sheltered childhood in many ways.
To be quite honest, it didn't really seem like much of a fight. You had them outnumbered 45 to 15! Despite what Hollywood may tell people, no matter how big or good at fighting you are, winning a fight outnumbered 3-1 is next to impossible. This is not even close to badass.
As far as I can tell, the tl;dr of your story is: "Me and massive group of my friends beat the shit out of a few dudes over nothing. I didn't even have to actually fight any of them; we had so many people that I could walk just around uncontested and hit people, who were already engaged in fights and therefore completely oblivious to me, with a baseball bat."
On January 17 2013 06:20 GeneralSnoop wrote: To be quite honest, it didn't really seem like much of a fight. You had them outnumbered 45 to 15! Despite what Hollywood may tell people, no matter how big or good at fighting you are, winning a fight outnumbered 3-1 is next to impossible. This is not even close to badass.
As far as I can tell, the tl;dr of your story is: "Me and massive group of my friends beat the shit out of a few dudes over nothing. I didn't even have to actually fight any of them; we had so many people that I could walk just around uncontested and hit people, who were already engaged in fights and therefore completely oblivious to me, with a baseball bat."
This is a story you should not be proud of.
Yeah this is kinda what I took away from the story as well... Which is why I think it rubs people the wrong way how you are kind of presenting the story in a glorified light. The story is sad.
On January 17 2013 05:36 RMP wrote: God what a crazy story ^^. Worlds apart from my life.
This is the exact same thing I was thinking.
On January 17 2013 06:20 GeneralSnoop wrote: To be quite honest, it didn't really seem like much of a fight. You had them outnumbered 45 to 15! Despite what Hollywood may tell people, no matter how big or good at fighting you are, winning a fight outnumbered 3-1 is next to impossible. This is not even close to badass.
As far as I can tell, the tl;dr of your story is: "Me and massive group of my friends beat the shit out of a few dudes over nothing. I didn't even have to actually fight any of them; we had so many people that I could walk just around uncontested and hit people, who were already engaged in fights and therefore completely oblivious to me, with a baseball bat."
This is a story you should not be proud of.
Lol!
It did seem like a lot of it was creative writing. You don't write like a gangster, it's written like a short story with all the elaborate background story on the characters, etc. I enjoyed it, thank you for sharing.
I came here from Stabbed a Man blog looking for a knfie fight story. Half way in there's no knife fight. Boy am I disappointed. Gave up reading halfway because I figured the rest would've been a made up story as well.
-edit- Skip to the fight part of the story. You didn't get hit throughout that whole scuffle? Honestly you seem like a bitch in the story. "I stayed back and threw cheap shots when I can."
On January 17 2013 06:20 GeneralSnoop wrote: To be quite honest, it didn't really seem like much of a fight. You had them outnumbered 45 to 15! Despite what Hollywood may tell people, no matter how big or good at fighting you are, winning a fight outnumbered 3-1 is next to impossible. This is not even close to badass.
As far as I can tell, the tl;dr of your story is: "Me and massive group of my friends beat the shit out of a few dudes over nothing. I didn't even have to actually fight any of them; we had so many people that I could walk just around uncontested and hit people, who were already engaged in fights and therefore completely oblivious to me, with a baseball bat."
This is a story you should not be proud of.
Yeah this is kinda what I took away from the story as well... Which is why I think it rubs people the wrong way how you are kind of presenting the story in a glorified light. The story is sad.
First off, I say at the very beginning why I wrote the story. Had nothing to do with pride or badassness. I'm astounded how many people have said something about sadness/pride/you're a tool etc and have completely missed the point. I wanted to give people an eyeball into what a real knife fight looks like and the mindset of one of the people involved. The original impetus for even writing this story was by the request of other TL members and by a blog that struck me as decidedly fake.
I didn't promise an epic brawl with insurmountable odds somehow surmounted. Because guess what? Real life rarely works like fiction, and most people won't go charging into a dozen knives without numbers on their side. Nor did I promise some moralistic revelation or story of justice being served. It's like kids go through everything expecting a hero and a happy ending. I don't know what gave you the retarded idea that me and my friends were supposed to be King Arthur and the knights of the fucking cafeteria table. Or that it's somehow sad that we weren't. I didn't live my life so I could come to TL a decade later and get kids who've never fought anything bigger than a chihuahua to give me their stamp of approval. I just lived it the way I knew how. And I'd be interested to see how many of you internet heroes would wade into a fight where people are swinging knives, 45-15, bat or no bat. Ofc, this is the internet so I'm sure you're all samurai and have won more one on one duels than Musashi.
And dude, just straight up learn to read. Beat them up over nothing? A few dudes? First guy punches a girl in the mouth, punches her in the mouth. Do I need to repeat that again? He does so on the front lawn of a house full of her cousins. Said dude gets smacked upside the head for it, so he leaves. He then comes back with five fucking cars full of people, all looking for a fight, one of whom then proceeds to kick the shit out of my friend's car. My friend goes to stop him destroying his fucking ride and the rest of us back him up. But I guess all of that is "nothing" in your world.
Nor was it 45-15. It was more like 20-15. Half the cambo guys barely topped 120 lbs. These aren't trained fighters here, they're baked, half-drunk lil Asian dudes. I don't know if you've ever been in a fight, but a 120 lb guy don't hit very hard. And if it was an actual 3-1 ratio, I highly doubt that guy and his friends would have stuck around to kick the shit out of Hakim's car now would they?
But I guess in your world, facts don't matter. Just emotions. Like sadness.
To the Talib/Tariq thing, LOL. His real name is Tariq. Guess I forgot midway thru and just started saying it hahahah.
On January 17 2013 03:58 Obstikal wrote: Man Sweden sounds like a good place. I was introduced to drugs at the age of like 13 and started using at 14. My friends who introduced me started even earlier.
It seems pretty normal to me most people I know or in fact everyone I've met that drugs are so common now that its easily access by middle school. I guess thats just the US.
Edit: and for clarification I live in the suburbs
i think the main difference is that weed isnt considered a drug in europe;) weed/hash at 10 is getting fairly usual in france,as for any other drug yeah 16/17/18
On January 17 2013 06:20 GeneralSnoop wrote: To be quite honest, it didn't really seem like much of a fight. You had them outnumbered 45 to 15! Despite what Hollywood may tell people, no matter how big or good at fighting you are, winning a fight outnumbered 3-1 is next to impossible. This is not even close to badass.
As far as I can tell, the tl;dr of your story is: "Me and massive group of my friends beat the shit out of a few dudes over nothing. I didn't even have to actually fight any of them; we had so many people that I could walk just around uncontested and hit people, who were already engaged in fights and therefore completely oblivious to me, with a baseball bat."
This is a story you should not be proud of.
Yeah this is kinda what I took away from the story as well... Which is why I think it rubs people the wrong way how you are kind of presenting the story in a glorified light. The story is sad.
First off, I say at the very beginning why I wrote the story. Had nothing to do with pride or badassness. I'm astounded how many people have said something about sadness/pride/you're a tool etc and have completely missed the point. I wanted to give people an eyeball into what a real knife fight looks like and the mindset of one of the people involved. The original impetus for even writing this story was by the request of other TL members and by a blog that struck me as decidedly fake.
I didn't promise an epic brawl with insurmountable odds somehow surmounted. Because guess what? Real life rarely works like fiction, and most people won't go charging into a dozen knives without numbers on their side. Nor did I promise some moralistic revelation or story of justice being served. It's like kids go through everything expecting a hero and a happy ending. I don't know what gave you the retarded idea that me and my friends were supposed to be King Arthur and the knights of the fucking cafeteria table. Or that it's somehow sad that we weren't. I didn't live my life so I could come to TL a decade later and get kids who've never fought anything bigger than a chihuahua to give me their stamp of approval. I just lived it the way I knew how. And I'd be interested to see how many of you internet heroes would wade into a fight where people are swinging knives, 45-15, bat or no bat. Ofc, this is the internet so I'm sure you're all samurai and have won more one on one duels than Musashi.
And dude, just straight up learn to read. Beat them up over nothing? A few dudes? First guy punches a girl in the mouth, punches her in the mouth. Do I need to repeat that again? He does so on the front lawn of a house full of her cousins. Said dude gets smacked upside the head for it, so he leaves. He then comes back with five fucking cars full of people, all looking for a fight, one of whom then proceeds to kick the shit out of my friend's car. My friend goes to stop him destroying his fucking ride and the rest of us back him up. But I guess all of that is "nothing" in your world.
Nor was it 45-15. It was more like 20-15. Half the cambo guys barely topped 120 lbs. These aren't trained fighters here, they're baked, half-drunk lil Asian dudes. I don't know if you've ever been in a fight, but a 120 lb guy don't hit very hard. And if it was an actual 3-1 ratio, I highly doubt that guy and his friends would have stuck around to kick the shit out of Hakim's car now would they?
But I guess in your world, facts don't matter. Just emotions. Like sadness.
To the Talib/Tariq thing, LOL. His real name is Tariq. Guess I forgot midway thru and just started saying it hahahah.
I understand you stated what your intent to the story was, but the length of the story means that how it actually reads may differ from the light in which you tried to frame it... That is all.
Don't be so quick to judge others on the site based on what you assume "our world" is and in what respects it might differ from yours. We don't want to derail this into a pissing contest.
On January 17 2013 06:20 GeneralSnoop wrote: To be quite honest, it didn't really seem like much of a fight. You had them outnumbered 45 to 15! Despite what Hollywood may tell people, no matter how big or good at fighting you are, winning a fight outnumbered 3-1 is next to impossible. This is not even close to badass.
As far as I can tell, the tl;dr of your story is: "Me and massive group of my friends beat the shit out of a few dudes over nothing. I didn't even have to actually fight any of them; we had so many people that I could walk just around uncontested and hit people, who were already engaged in fights and therefore completely oblivious to me, with a baseball bat."
This is a story you should not be proud of.
Yeah this is kinda what I took away from the story as well... Which is why I think it rubs people the wrong way how you are kind of presenting the story in a glorified light. The story is sad.
First off, I say at the very beginning why I wrote the story. Had nothing to do with pride or badassness. I'm astounded how many people have said something about sadness/pride/you're a tool etc and have completely missed the point. I wanted to give people an eyeball into what a real knife fight looks like and the mindset of one of the people involved. The original impetus for even writing this story was by the request of other TL members and by a blog that struck me as decidedly fake.
I didn't promise an epic brawl with insurmountable odds somehow surmounted. Because guess what? Real life rarely works like fiction, and most people won't go charging into a dozen knives without numbers on their side. Nor did I promise some moralistic revelation or story of justice being served. It's like kids go through everything expecting a hero and a happy ending. I don't know what gave you the retarded idea that me and my friends were supposed to be King Arthur and the knights of the fucking cafeteria table. Or that it's somehow sad that we weren't. I didn't live my life so I could come to TL a decade later and get kids who've never fought anything bigger than a chihuahua to give me their stamp of approval. I just lived it the way I knew how. And I'd be interested to see how many of you internet heroes would wade into a fight where people are swinging knives, 45-15, bat or no bat. Ofc, this is the internet so I'm sure you're all samurai and have won more one on one duels than Musashi.
And dude, just straight up learn to read. Beat them up over nothing? A few dudes? First guy punches a girl in the mouth, punches her in the mouth. Do I need to repeat that again? He does so on the front lawn of a house full of her cousins. Said dude gets smacked upside the head for it, so he leaves. He then comes back with five fucking cars full of people, all looking for a fight, one of whom then proceeds to kick the shit out of my friend's car. My friend goes to stop him destroying his fucking ride and the rest of us back him up. But I guess all of that is "nothing" in your world.
Nor was it 45-15. It was more like 20-15. Half the cambo guys barely topped 120 lbs. These aren't trained fighters here, they're baked, half-drunk lil Asian dudes. I don't know if you've ever been in a fight, but a 120 lb guy don't hit very hard. And if it was an actual 3-1 ratio, I highly doubt that guy and his friends would have stuck around to kick the shit out of Hakim's car now would they?
But I guess in your world, facts don't matter. Just emotions. Like sadness.
To the Talib/Tariq thing, LOL. His real name is Tariq. Guess I forgot midway thru and just started saying it hahahah.
Doesn't matter what random internet people say, still was a great story.
What a story....wow. Like... HOLY SHIT. Kind of awesome yet hilarious yet fucked up. That story is just straight-up crazy, definitely sounds like it came out of an insane movie or something lol. But the writing was actually quite interesting, I thought, and I was pretty enthralled the whole way through. Maybe this is Shady trying a narrative in disguise or something, I don't even.
On January 17 2013 11:43 phosphorylation wrote: lol i cant believe i read the whole thing. one of the most entertaining posts in teamliquid. thanks for that and i hope you write more of these.
Yeah, this was more or less my response. Hot dayum.
Thanks for the words of support, Nina! Lol, I'm def not Shady Sands and I used an undersized wooden bat. Not a big fan of metal bats. For some reason, it hurts your hands when you lay in a big hit. I don't get that effect half as much with wooden bats. Then again, metal bats don't break.
To the guy talking about being a bitch, landing cheap shots, etc... just lol. Fights aren't about looking cool or being a bad ass or proving how many punches you can eat. They're about hurting people. You take a guy out as fast and as painlessly as possible. That's your only goal. If you can do it without getting smacked in the mouth, that's a good thing. Being a "tough guy" and getting clocked while swinging wildly is the idiot's way of fighting. It doesn't matter how big you are, if you get punched in the throat or the point of the jaw or the nuts, you will go down. There are no exceptions.
On January 17 2013 13:06 Ettick wrote: Thanks for sharing this story, I really liked reading it
Also, were you using a metal or wooden bat during the fight?
For a possible Zombie uprising, I believe you should keep an aluminum bat. Not only is it lighter, but it won't shatter when it makes contact with a zombie's skull. Most people like the idea of using firearms against zombies, stupidly assuming that their supply of ammunition will never run out. A blunt object is cheap, effective, and will last much longer than any firearm will. However, a machete or bladed weapon may be more effective at achieving one-hit kills. The downside is that bladed weapons may quickly become dull, and will require constant sharpening. My favorite weapon for anti-zombie defense is the crowbar, because it is easy to hold, has a blunt end for traumatic blows, and a sharp end for stabbing/ripping.
I know you're asking because you want advice on which weapon would be most effective against zombies.
On January 17 2013 14:29 SamsungStar wrote: It doesn't matter how big you are, if you get punched in the throat or the point of the jaw or the nuts, you will go down. There are no exceptions.
Unless they are on meth. Meth users do not feel pain. The only way to stop them is to break their knees/shins, disabling their ability to run, or kill them. The same applies to zombies.
On January 17 2013 13:06 Ettick wrote: Thanks for sharing this story, I really liked reading it
Also, were you using a metal or wooden bat during the fight?
For a possible Zombie uprising, I believe you should keep an aluminum bat. Not only is it lighter, but it won't shatter when it makes contact with a zombie's skull. Most people like the idea of using firearms against zombies, stupidly assuming that their supply of ammunition will never run out. A blunt object is cheap, effective, and will last much longer than any firearm will. However, a machete or bladed weapon may be more effective at achieving one-hit kills. The downside is that bladed weapons may quickly become dull, and will require constant sharpening. My favorite weapon for anti-zombie defense is the crowbar, because it is easy to hold, has a blunt end for traumatic blows, and a sharp end for stabbing/ripping.
I know you're asking because you want advice on which weapon would be most effective against zombies.
On January 17 2013 14:29 SamsungStar wrote: It doesn't matter how big you are, if you get punched in the throat or the point of the jaw or the nuts, you will go down. There are no exceptions.
Unless they are on meth. Meth users do not feel pain. The only way to stop them is to break their knees/shins, disabling their ability to run, or kill them. The same applies to zombies.
lol XD. You're right about the meth. There were some crazy bastards who smoked meth and popped PKs before they got in fights and they would just be savage beasts. Totally unstoppable. I watched some guy run through a bonfire once and beat another guy over the head with a burning log. Only much later did he notice the severe burns all over his hands. My advice if you run into a zombie or meth-head is throw the bat at his legs and run like hell. But even then, you have to pray he doesn't want you that bad, because ppl on meth run really damned fast.
Great read, the writing style fits the environnement, you really lived in GTA :D. But what a waste of time for teenagers, some people just want to get their faces trashed I guess.
All of the Euro posters are like .... wtf why would anyone do this? Kids in the US, except for really sheltered communities, fight a lot. And it tends to be the adults who never scrapped as a kid who either get their nose broken for saying something stupid, or embarrass their wives because they can't stick up for them.
Edit: I'm talking about adults in the US. Yall in Europe are cool, don't fight if you don't have to
On January 17 2013 06:20 GeneralSnoop wrote: To be quite honest, it didn't really seem like much of a fight. You had them outnumbered 45 to 15! Despite what Hollywood may tell people, no matter how big or good at fighting you are, winning a fight outnumbered 3-1 is next to impossible. This is not even close to badass.
As far as I can tell, the tl;dr of your story is: "Me and massive group of my friends beat the shit out of a few dudes over nothing. I didn't even have to actually fight any of them; we had so many people that I could walk just around uncontested and hit people, who were already engaged in fights and therefore completely oblivious to me, with a baseball bat."
This is a story you should not be proud of.
Yeah this is kinda what I took away from the story as well... Which is why I think it rubs people the wrong way how you are kind of presenting the story in a glorified light. The story is sad.
First off, I say at the very beginning why I wrote the story. Had nothing to do with pride or badassness. I'm astounded how many people have said something about sadness/pride/you're a tool etc and have completely missed the point. I wanted to give people an eyeball into what a real knife fight looks like and the mindset of one of the people involved. The original impetus for even writing this story was by the request of other TL members and by a blog that struck me as decidedly fake.
I didn't promise an epic brawl with insurmountable odds somehow surmounted. Because guess what? Real life rarely works like fiction, and most people won't go charging into a dozen knives without numbers on their side. Nor did I promise some moralistic revelation or story of justice being served. It's like kids go through everything expecting a hero and a happy ending. I don't know what gave you the retarded idea that me and my friends were supposed to be King Arthur and the knights of the fucking cafeteria table. Or that it's somehow sad that we weren't. I didn't live my life so I could come to TL a decade later and get kids who've never fought anything bigger than a chihuahua to give me their stamp of approval. I just lived it the way I knew how. And I'd be interested to see how many of you internet heroes would wade into a fight where people are swinging knives, 45-15, bat or no bat. Ofc, this is the internet so I'm sure you're all samurai and have won more one on one duels than Musashi.
And dude, just straight up learn to read. Beat them up over nothing? A few dudes? First guy punches a girl in the mouth, punches her in the mouth. Do I need to repeat that again? He does so on the front lawn of a house full of her cousins. Said dude gets smacked upside the head for it, so he leaves. He then comes back with five fucking cars full of people, all looking for a fight, one of whom then proceeds to kick the shit out of my friend's car. My friend goes to stop him destroying his fucking ride and the rest of us back him up. But I guess all of that is "nothing" in your world.
Nor was it 45-15. It was more like 20-15. Half the cambo guys barely topped 120 lbs. These aren't trained fighters here, they're baked, half-drunk lil Asian dudes. I don't know if you've ever been in a fight, but a 120 lb guy don't hit very hard. And if it was an actual 3-1 ratio, I highly doubt that guy and his friends would have stuck around to kick the shit out of Hakim's car now would they?
But I guess in your world, facts don't matter. Just emotions. Like sadness.
To the Talib/Tariq thing, LOL. His real name is Tariq. Guess I forgot midway thru and just started saying it hahahah.
1) when weapons are involved, size matters much less. Also when you have numbers, size matters much less. Any one of your buddys will get KO'd by 3 120ib dudes with baseball bats any day, no matter how good they are in a fight.
2) im not saying you needed to be outnumbered or be heroic or have some sort of disadvantage. It just seems like you had such a huge advantage going into the fight there was no chance you would lose. It was more a gang-rape than a fight. You could just micro your wounded back and keep attacking until they gg.
Anyway, i have nothing against you or anything, plus those guys did come to start a fight. And im sure you could kick my ass with one arm and a wooden spoon. Still an interesting read, and the background makes it very believable.
On January 17 2013 23:54 pigmanbear wrote: All of the Euro posters are like .... wtf why would anyone do this? Kids in the US, except for really sheltered communities, fight a lot. And it tends to be the adults who never scrapped as a kid who either get their nose broken for saying something stupid, or embarrass their wives because they can't stick up for them.
Edit: I'm talking about adults in the US. Yall in Europe are cool, don't fight if you don't have to
Yeah they fight but not like in movies. Life isn't a movie. I've lived in shitty parts both in France and South America (someone-got-stabbed-to-death-in-front-of-our-door shitty), and OP's story just seems weird.
I mean, I did get into a lot of fights when I was very young, but clubbing, gang fights, what ? Come on. You'd fight people until you were a teen and then you would either calm down or go to the extreme (=dying at the age of 20 after getting beat up by thugs). OP makes it sound as if it was a San Andreas lifestyle for everyone, but hell no, in Chile the bad people in my neighbourhood were BAD, you couldn't have drinks with them or anything because they were INSANE, with scars on their faces and all... they would've never tolerated a bunch of teenagers around them, especially if any of them had any money to begin with. They were the kind of people that would just put a knive to your throat and ask you to lead them to your house if they knew you were't poor like everyone else.
Hell, how could kids from the ghetto like us go clubbing ? No money, no clothes. Those who had any sort of money were the real gangsters, and they weren't 15 years old. When I was little and we had nothing to do but fight, well, we didn't have anything to do but fight. We'd make fires on parking lots just because we were bored.
I don't know, this whole story is waaaay to "special" or "glamorous" to be real. In my neighbourhood in Chile, a kinfe fight was just about drunk guys or thugs going at each other by surprise, there weren't any large gang fights or anything, that's fantasy (or rare at least). People would just catch some dude in a corner, stab him and run away, and it was over. It wasn't a fucking adventure, it was just a silent murder among others. You'd avoid dark places at night because it was there that such things were likely to occur, just like that, in a second.
And what's the deal with being known and respected by the neighbourhood at 15, and getting in fights with everyone ? If we had done that, wether in Chile or in France, something really bad would've happened sooner or later because there were a lot of people out there with nothing to lose. There's bound to be a bigger brother who comes up to your house one day and smashes your dad's head with a baseball bat. There's bound to be a moment where kids who don't like you would find you alone in some street and kick your ass until you're on the verge of death.
Growing in a ghetto wasn't fun, nor was it a sort of adventure, in my experience it's just daily boredom and violence, and unless you're the most violent of them all (and willing to die by the age of 20 or become a real thug), you'd have to shut up and stare at your feets regularly.
On January 17 2013 23:54 pigmanbear wrote: All of the Euro posters are like .... wtf why would anyone do this? Kids in the US, except for really sheltered communities, fight a lot. And it tends to be the adults who never scrapped as a kid who either get their nose broken for saying something stupid, or embarrass their wives because they can't stick up for them.
Edit: I'm talking about adults in the US. Yall in Europe are cool, don't fight if you don't have to
Yeah they fight but not like in movies. Life isn't a movie. I've lived in shitty parts both in France and South America (someone-got-stabbed-to-death-in-front-of-our-door shitty), and OP's story just seems weird.
I mean, I did get into a lot of fights when I was very young, but clubbing, gang fights, what ? Come on. You'd fight people until you were a teen and then you would either calm down or go to the extreme (=dying at the age of 20 after getting beat up by thugs). OP makes it sound as if it was a San Andreas lifestyle for everyone, but hell no, in Chile the bad people in my neighbourhood were BAD, you couldn't have drinks with them or anything because they were INSANE, with scars on their faces and all... they would've never tolerated a bunch of teenagers around them, especially if any of them had any money to begin with. They were the kind of people that would just put a knive to your throat and ask you to lead them to your house if they knew you were't poor like everyone else.
Hell, how could kids from the ghetto like us go clubbing ? No money, no clothes. Those who had any sort of money were the real gangsters, and they weren't 15 years old. When I was little and we had nothing to do but fight, well, we didn't have anything to do but fight. We'd make fires on parking lots just because we were bored.
I don't know, this whole story is waaaay to "special" or "glamorous" to be real. In my neighbourhood in Chile, a kinfe fight was just about drunk guys or thugs going at each other by surprise, there weren't any large gang fights or anything, that's fantasy (or rare at least). People would just catch some dude in a corner, stab him and run away, and it was over. It wasn't a fucking adventure, it was just a silent murder among others. You'd avoid dark places at night because it was there that such things were likely to occur, just like that, in a second.
And what's the deal with being known and respected by the neighbourhood at 15, and getting in fights with everyone ? If we had done that, wether in Chile or in France, something really bad would've happened sooner or later because there were a lot of people out there with nothing to lose. There's bound to be a bigger brother who comes up to your house one day and smashes your dad's head with a baseball bat. There's bound to be a moment where kids who don't like you would find you alone in some street and kick your ass until you're on the verge of death.
Growing in a ghetto wasn't fun, nor was it a sort of adventure, in my experience it's just daily boredom and violence, and unless you're the most violent of them all (and willing to die by the age of 20 or become a real thug), you'd have to shut up and stare at your feets regularly.
I don't know, I have to call bullshit.
Yeah, I feel the same. OP's story reads a lot like fiction, but good fiction at that.
Reminds me of Mcafee's wacko shenanigans in Belize lol:
Haha, what cracks me up most about the responses is how wide of a range there is. On one side, the Europeans are saying this must be fake. Nobody lives anywhere that horrid etc. Now, on the other, Kukaracha is saying it's too glamorous LOL. But, sadly, all ghettos were not created equal. And the one I ran around in as a kid was in Florida, not Chile, so our experiences will not be the same. Different cultures create different kinds of hooligans, which would make for a pretty interesting book imo if someone went around and did all the legwork to compare the delinquents from all the different regions of the world.
“You’re movin’ with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air.” I whistled for a cab and when it came near The license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror If anything I could say that this cab was rare But I thought, “Nah, forget it. Yo home to Bel-Air!” I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8 And I yelled to the cabby yo holmes smell ya later Looked at my kingdom I was finally there To sit on my throne as the prince of Bel-Air.
If this is true, this is one of the best blog posts I've read on the internet in the past two years. The only post that even comes close on TL is Requiem for a July, and that story's been deleted off this website.
And I'm only at the Bamboo Gang part. You know who else came from a family associated with the Bamboo Union/Bamboo Gang? Jay Chou. Methinks you have talent as a writer just like he has as a musician. Keep it up.
On January 17 2013 12:38 Aerisky wrote: Jesus fucking christ, that's ridiculous O_O
What a story....wow. Like... HOLY SHIT. Kind of awesome yet hilarious yet fucked up. That story is just straight-up crazy, definitely sounds like it came out of an insane movie or something lol. But the writing was actually quite interesting, I thought, and I was pretty enthralled the whole way through. Maybe this is Shady trying a narrative in disguise or something, I don't even.
On January 17 2013 11:43 phosphorylation wrote: lol i cant believe i read the whole thing. one of the most entertaining posts in teamliquid. thanks for that and i hope you write more of these.
Yeah, this was more or less my response. Hot dayum.
I can confirm this is not me ><
I'm a prep debater from the burbs, and my dad was an artist
On January 17 2013 12:38 Aerisky wrote: Jesus fucking christ, that's ridiculous O_O
What a story....wow. Like... HOLY SHIT. Kind of awesome yet hilarious yet fucked up. That story is just straight-up crazy, definitely sounds like it came out of an insane movie or something lol. But the writing was actually quite interesting, I thought, and I was pretty enthralled the whole way through. Maybe this is Shady trying a narrative in disguise or something, I don't even.
On January 17 2013 11:43 phosphorylation wrote: lol i cant believe i read the whole thing. one of the most entertaining posts in teamliquid. thanks for that and i hope you write more of these.
Yeah, this was more or less my response. Hot dayum.
I can confirm this is not me ><
I'm a prep debater from the burbs, and my dad was an artist
Ah gotcha. But yeah this blog is....just whoaaa. I wonder who OP is, really seems like an alt or a PBU :/
On January 17 2013 13:06 Ettick wrote: Thanks for sharing this story, I really liked reading it
Also, were you using a metal or wooden bat during the fight?
For a possible Zombie uprising, I believe you should keep an aluminum bat. Not only is it lighter, but it won't shatter when it makes contact with a zombie's skull. Most people like the idea of using firearms against zombies, stupidly assuming that their supply of ammunition will never run out. A blunt object is cheap, effective, and will last much longer than any firearm will. However, a machete or bladed weapon may be more effective at achieving one-hit kills. The downside is that bladed weapons may quickly become dull, and will require constant sharpening. My favorite weapon for anti-zombie defense is the crowbar, because it is easy to hold, has a blunt end for traumatic blows, and a sharp end for stabbing/ripping.
I know you're asking because you want advice on which weapon would be most effective against zombies.
On January 17 2013 14:29 SamsungStar wrote: It doesn't matter how big you are, if you get punched in the throat or the point of the jaw or the nuts, you will go down. There are no exceptions.
Unless they are on meth. Meth users do not feel pain. The only way to stop them is to break their knees/shins, disabling their ability to run, or kill them. The same applies to zombies.
lol XD. You're right about the meth. There were some crazy bastards who smoked meth and popped PKs before they got in fights and they would just be savage beasts. Totally unstoppable. I watched some guy run through a bonfire once and beat another guy over the head with a burning log. Only much later did he notice the severe burns all over his hands. My advice if you run into a zombie or meth-head is throw the bat at his legs and run like hell. But even then, you have to pray he doesn't want you that bad, because ppl on meth run really damned fast.
When thrown, bats aren't nearly as effective, I find the heavier end tends to cause them to spin while in flight, which sometimes leads to the skinny end of the bat hitting stuff/people. This is simply not practical. For meth-heads, I think it might help to thrust the bat straight into their stomach and knock them backwards before running, but otherwise, I highly recommend hanging onto the bat, especially against zombies, because if you drop the bat in a battle against one zombie, you'll be leaving yourself defenseless against the other zombies, because there will be a lot of them. The only weapons I approve of throwing are javelins and shuriken stars.
Funny how I came here expecting him to set people straight about how unglamorous, frenzied, aimless and bloody real knife fights are, and by the end I actually got the most glamorous fight story ever.
On January 17 2013 13:06 Ettick wrote: Thanks for sharing this story, I really liked reading it
Also, were you using a metal or wooden bat during the fight?
For a possible Zombie uprising, I believe you should keep an aluminum bat. Not only is it lighter, but it won't shatter when it makes contact with a zombie's skull. Most people like the idea of using firearms against zombies, stupidly assuming that their supply of ammunition will never run out. A blunt object is cheap, effective, and will last much longer than any firearm will. However, a machete or bladed weapon may be more effective at achieving one-hit kills. The downside is that bladed weapons may quickly become dull, and will require constant sharpening. My favorite weapon for anti-zombie defense is the crowbar, because it is easy to hold, has a blunt end for traumatic blows, and a sharp end for stabbing/ripping.
I know you're asking because you want advice on which weapon would be most effective against zombies.
On January 17 2013 14:29 SamsungStar wrote: It doesn't matter how big you are, if you get punched in the throat or the point of the jaw or the nuts, you will go down. There are no exceptions.
Unless they are on meth. Meth users do not feel pain. The only way to stop them is to break their knees/shins, disabling their ability to run, or kill them. The same applies to zombies.
lol XD. You're right about the meth. There were some crazy bastards who smoked meth and popped PKs before they got in fights and they would just be savage beasts. Totally unstoppable. I watched some guy run through a bonfire once and beat another guy over the head with a burning log. Only much later did he notice the severe burns all over his hands. My advice if you run into a zombie or meth-head is throw the bat at his legs and run like hell. But even then, you have to pray he doesn't want you that bad, because ppl on meth run really damned fast.
When thrown, bats aren't nearly as effective, I find the heavier end tends to cause them to spin while in flight, which sometimes leads to the skinny end of the bat hitting stuff/people. This is simply not practical. For meth-heads, I think it might help to thrust the bat straight into their stomach and knock them backwards before running, but otherwise, I highly recommend hanging onto the bat, especially against zombies, because if you drop the bat in a battle against one zombie, you'll be leaving yourself defenseless against the other zombies, because there will be a lot of them. The only weapons I approve of throwing are javelins and shuriken stars.
lol what about throwing the poor man's bolo? It's really handy when you're being chased by a mob of angry crackheads. You take your kicks off, tie the shoelaces together, and then try to pack the insides with anything heavy close at hand. Then you toss it at their legs while screaming "eightballs in the shoes!!"
On January 19 2013 13:51 Shady Sands wrote: If this is true, this is one of the best blog posts I've read on the internet in the past two years. The only post that even comes close on TL is Requiem for a July, and that story's been deleted off this website.
And I'm only at the Bamboo Gang part. You know who else came from a family associated with the Bamboo Union/Bamboo Gang? Jay Chou. Methinks you have talent as a writer just like he has as a musician. Keep it up.
Haha yeah, I know a number of ppl who had dad's/uncles etc in Bamboo. Especially in entertainment industry. Although Jay and his dad don't get along. His parents divorced because his dad was totally against him learning music. My family's friends with the parents of one of his close friends from high school, so the story sort of got passed along. (Taiwan's mad small)
And thanks for the compliment . I actually am a fiction writer, but this particular piece is nonfic. It was honestly just a quick response I did off the cuff to that knife disarming blog.
On January 17 2013 13:06 Ettick wrote: Thanks for sharing this story, I really liked reading it
Also, were you using a metal or wooden bat during the fight?
For a possible Zombie uprising, I believe you should keep an aluminum bat. Not only is it lighter, but it won't shatter when it makes contact with a zombie's skull. Most people like the idea of using firearms against zombies, stupidly assuming that their supply of ammunition will never run out. A blunt object is cheap, effective, and will last much longer than any firearm will. However, a machete or bladed weapon may be more effective at achieving one-hit kills. The downside is that bladed weapons may quickly become dull, and will require constant sharpening. My favorite weapon for anti-zombie defense is the crowbar, because it is easy to hold, has a blunt end for traumatic blows, and a sharp end for stabbing/ripping.
I know you're asking because you want advice on which weapon would be most effective against zombies.
On January 17 2013 14:29 SamsungStar wrote: It doesn't matter how big you are, if you get punched in the throat or the point of the jaw or the nuts, you will go down. There are no exceptions.
Unless they are on meth. Meth users do not feel pain. The only way to stop them is to break their knees/shins, disabling their ability to run, or kill them. The same applies to zombies.
lol XD. You're right about the meth. There were some crazy bastards who smoked meth and popped PKs before they got in fights and they would just be savage beasts. Totally unstoppable. I watched some guy run through a bonfire once and beat another guy over the head with a burning log. Only much later did he notice the severe burns all over his hands. My advice if you run into a zombie or meth-head is throw the bat at his legs and run like hell. But even then, you have to pray he doesn't want you that bad, because ppl on meth run really damned fast.
When thrown, bats aren't nearly as effective, I find the heavier end tends to cause them to spin while in flight, which sometimes leads to the skinny end of the bat hitting stuff/people. This is simply not practical. For meth-heads, I think it might help to thrust the bat straight into their stomach and knock them backwards before running, but otherwise, I highly recommend hanging onto the bat, especially against zombies, because if you drop the bat in a battle against one zombie, you'll be leaving yourself defenseless against the other zombies, because there will be a lot of them. The only weapons I approve of throwing are javelins and shuriken stars.
lol what about throwing the poor man's bolo? It's really handy when you're being chased by a mob of angry crackheads. You take your kicks off, tie the shoelaces together, and then try to pack the insides with anything heavy close at hand. Then you toss it at their legs while screaming "eightballs in the shoes!!"
I've experimented quite a bit with shoe-based weapons, and they're all pretty bad. I think I've tried the bolo trick maybe 2-3 times, and it takes way too long to take the shoes off, tie the laces together and then throw them effectively. One of the times, the laces even came apart and both shoes just went flying in opposite directions. Pretty fucking fail by me. A more effective foot-wear based ranged weapon would be the tube sock sling. Basically, you take a somewhat heavy object, like a pool ball or a paper weight of some sort, and drop it into the tube sock. Then, you take the open end of the sock and hold onto it, and start swinging it in a circular motion so it gathers momentum. You can release the sock sling at any time, but keep in mind that it has a very short range, and CANNOT be used more than a few hits if used as a melee weapon, because the sock fabric will rip after making impact.
All in all, from the start of the fight where Hakim rushed them to the end where we ran back into the house, I’d say it was 4 minutes, maybe 5 max. To put that into perspective, the whole fight lasted a little less time than it takes for the first warp-ins of a 4gate.
so down to earth until that point, a starcraft reference out of nowhere lol
intriguing story, fun to read, apart from some facts & names changing, the flow of the piece is nice. Very James Joyce.
You seem proud of what you do and have done so uhm yeah. good luck?
I liked it. I don't even care if it's true or not, since I grew up pretty damn sheltered. It kept me interested until the end, and that's all that matters for me.
From what I can tell, there's a guy I hang out with who shares a lot in common with you (except he's Mexican) but he's never told me anything this good before. But this is why I wholeheartedly believe your story.
This is the first blog I've read that I could give a 6 to
If this is true... my next blog will be about the time when I flew to a galaxy far far away, my best friends were robots, my human friend and his giant walking teddy bear banged my long lost sister, and my abandoning father turned out to be the right hand to an evil emperor.
Just saying.
Anyone who believe this needs to go outside and get some fresh air... all the bullshit is apparently blocking the oxygen and preventing your brain from functioning properly.
On January 21 2013 15:15 MaestroSC wrote: If this is true... my next blog will be about the time when I flew to a galaxy far far away, my best friends were robots, my human friend and his giant walking teddy bear banged my long lost sister, and my abandoning father turned out to be the right hand to an evil emperor.
Just saying.
Anyone who believe this needs to go outside and get some fresh air... all the bullshit is apparently blocking the oxygen and preventing your brain from functioning properly.
On January 21 2013 15:15 MaestroSC wrote: If this is true... my next blog will be about the time when I flew to a galaxy far far away, my best friends were robots, my human friend and his giant walking teddy bear banged my long lost sister, and my abandoning father turned out to be the right hand to an evil emperor.
Just saying.
Anyone who believe this needs to go outside and get some fresh air... all the bullshit is apparently blocking the oxygen and preventing your brain from functioning properly.
Why so much hostility?
didnt realize star wars references were so hostile.
Or that calling bullshit on bullshit is hostile lol.
On January 21 2013 15:15 MaestroSC wrote: If this is true... my next blog will be about the time when I flew to a galaxy far far away, my best friends were robots, my human friend and his giant walking teddy bear banged my long lost sister, and my abandoning father turned out to be the right hand to an evil emperor.
Just saying.
Anyone who believe this needs to go outside and get some fresh air... all the bullshit is apparently blocking the oxygen and preventing your brain from functioning properly.
Why so much hostility?
didnt realize star wars references were so hostile.
Or that calling bullshit on bullshit is hostile lol.
why so sensitive?
Anyone who believe this needs to go outside and get some fresh air... all the bullshit is apparently blocking the oxygen and preventing your brain from functioning properly.
On January 21 2013 15:15 MaestroSC wrote: If this is true... my next blog will be about the time when I flew to a galaxy far far away, my best friends were robots, my human friend and his giant walking teddy bear banged my long lost sister, and my abandoning father turned out to be the right hand to an evil emperor.
Just saying.
Anyone who believe this needs to go outside and get some fresh air... all the bullshit is apparently blocking the oxygen and preventing your brain from functioning properly.
Why so much hostility?
To be honest I had to show some restraint myself, I don't like the idea of people fantasizing about violence. Last time my family witnessed a fight my mother went insane, the things she has seen in her youth kind of traumatized her.
So I personally understand that one might not appreciate this kind of writing.
Except it's not fantasy, you twit. Just because we weren't eating ceviches while knifing each other doesn't mean it didn't happen. Do you have any idea how fucking insulting it is when someone comes up to you and just tells you your life is false? There isn't even a proper way to respond to it. Wtf is that supposed to mean? HEY, YOUR LIFE ISN'T REAL. Oh, thanks for letting me know! I guess it was all a dream!
Realize you are being an utter ass, then try to do something decent with yourself instead of telling others there is only one type of violence and it only exists in the back alleys of Chile con carne where the knives are quick and the kids are quicker. Now I'm probably verging on hypocrisy here because I wrote this entire blog because I thought another story sounded very fishy, and I'm starting to see how that's upsetting, but at least over there my issue was the lack of details and a question of physics. Whereas here, it's a select bunch of people who don't seem to have any experience with the environment or culture yet feel they are an expert authority on the subject. Do you know what scientists call this phenomenon? Cognitive dissonance.
Your logic doesn't even make sense. You compare the ghetto of a third world country with that of a first world country. Then you talk about how our level of disposable income and lifestyle is vastly greater than what you saw, so that somehow invalidates my existence. All it would take is a simple leap of logic to understand that naturally there will be giant differences between our lifestyles based on the economies we grew up in. Stop trying to relate your experiences in Chile with mine in Florida. It's not going to work. But if you've noticed, a ton of the American kids say they can relate and my story sounds a lot like theirs. Imagine that. Americans who can relate to each other. Chileans who can't. Stop projecting your mom issues on my blog and stop trying to get into a retarded pissing contest on the internet about whose family had it tougher. Especially not with a second-gen Chinese whose family tree was cut in half by the Commies and Japanese.
In conclusion, if any of you don't like the story, that's fine. Give it a one star, speak your piece, and move on. This is a public forum, I posted the blog, and I accept the terms inherent in that action. But enough with the stupid fucking accusations of "This isn't real!" It's getting old and it's extremely insulting. Could you imagine if I took out one of your family albums and started claiming all the photos were shopped because that waterfall looks too glamorous or your mom is way too hot? Do you have any idea how retarded that is? Did you pay for this story? Were you forced to click on the blog? If your answer is no to both then you don't have a valid reason for spewing angry crap here.
On January 22 2013 02:33 SamsungStar wrote: Your logic doesn't even make sense. You compare the ghetto of a third world country with that of a first world country. Then you talk about how our level of disposable income and lifestyle is vastly greater than what you saw, so that somehow invalidates my existence.
Except I lived in a ghetto in France, too, and there still weren't 15 year-old Muhammad Alis driving limousines with Harold and Kumar through their uncontested turf.
But hey, maybe it was true, I'm just voicing my opinion.
On January 22 2013 02:33 SamsungStar wrote: Your logic doesn't even make sense. You compare the ghetto of a third world country with that of a first world country. Then you talk about how our level of disposable income and lifestyle is vastly greater than what you saw, so that somehow invalidates my existence.
Except I lived in a ghetto in France, too, and there still weren't 15 year-old Muhammad Alis driving limousines with Harold and Kumar through their uncontested turf.
But hey, maybe it was true, I'm just voicing my opinion.
Except Aman didn't live in the ghetto. He lived on a lake and a golf course and his dad was a heart surgeon. He just happened to like hip hop, getting into stupid shit, and smoking pot all day. Again, stop trying to force your experiences on others. Open your mind and realize the world is a bigger place than just France and Chile. Also, notice the part where Aman didn't fight at all. He just stood around trying to look cool with a pipe in his hand. And he rolled with us. And we mentioned it wasn't our area. Not very good at the whole reading thing are you? But I guess coming up with stupid one-liners and linking youtube clips after making a series of retarded posts on someone else's blog is your way of saving face.
Well, if you really want it, we could go through the story point by point. For example, how come rich kids could hang out in a ghetto? In my memories, people from my neighbourood in Chile would scam or assault any "gringo" who came, and it wasn't any different in France. How come 15 year-old kids received so much respect when ghettos are usually filled with the most unstable and violent persons around - the kind of people that no threat will stop? Oh, so many questions.
To be clear, I didn't want to "save face" but to leave in an humourous note, but you don't seem in the mood.
I'm not going to bother with someone who can't read. Banning you from my blog. Thanks for visiting. I will leave you with one gem of knowledge that hopefully you will take with you: in America, especially in the South, rich people don't immediately get mauled to death the minute they enter a ghetto. Especially when they know people there and are obviously going to a party. Does shit sometimes happen? Yes. That's why we originally weren't too keen on going to that party. But bitches and drank are a powerful incentive. Does it happen all the time? Hell no. People aren't going to start blasting the minute a nice car rolls through. You know why? Because most times said rich dude/dudette is trying to cop. And the ones slanging don't take too kindly to people blasting up their fucking cash flow. So they make sure that kind of shit doesn't happen. AKA the ghetto isn't dangerous if you know what you're doing.
Have fun in France though. Hope you don't go to the ghetto.
On January 22 2013 03:23 SamsungStar wrote: I'm not going to bother with someone who can't read. Banning you from my blog. Thanks for visiting. I will leave you with one gem of knowledge that hopefully you will take with you: in America, especially in the South, rich people don't immediately get mauled to death the minute they enter a ghetto. Especially when they know people there and are obviously going to a party. Does shit sometimes happen? Yes. That's why we originally weren't too keen on going to that party. But bitches and drank are a powerful incentive. Does it happen all the time? Hell no. People aren't going to start blasting the minute a nice car rolls through. You know why? Because most times said rich dude/dudette is trying to cop. And the ones slanging don't take too kindly to people blasting up their fucking cash flow. So they make sure that kind of shit doesn't happen. AKA the ghetto isn't dangerous if you know what you're doing.
Have fun in France though. Hope you don't go to the ghetto.
I'd temper this declaration with a "the ghettos I've been to" or something a little more reasonable, because I can personally tell you that "the ghetto" can be very dangerous, even if someone knows what they are doing (which presumably means buying drugs in an expedient manner). Here's a story for you, and it comes from my own experience.
In Toledo, OH, there exists a place known only to the general populace as "East Toledo", and it is common knowledge amongst anyone but the poorest of poor that this neighborhood is to be avoided, even if one is "looking to cop". You see, no singular gang has control of the area, and a multitude of ethnic, social, and prison-related groups have settled there, drawn by the power vacuum left behind by huge reductions in the police force and the cheapest property values in NW Ohio. The Aryan Brotherhood, Crips, Bloods, La Eme (though in Toledo, they go by "Los Churrascos"), even a small contingent of Salvadorans who say they belong to MS13 all vie for control of the heroin trade in East Toledo, and if one gives off any indication that they are going to or have already purchased drugs from one of those groups, you better hope to fucking God that during that brief venture into East Toledo that no one sees you, or else you will be robbed, period. The only reason I know any of this, as I am a white boy who grew up in the nice suburb of Maumee, OH, has a lot to do with my choice in friends during high school, and I can say with total certainty that there exist neighborhoods, ghettos if you will, that one simply does not enter unless they are both poor and in desperate need of a fix.
The moral of the story is that ghettos can most certainly be dangerous; a ghetto with an established pecking order perhaps less so, but any sort of general advice in regards to the net safety of ghettos as an identifiable locale is not very useful in all honesty.
Yeah, you're definitely right on that point. Each neighborhood has its own personality. It's not all one way nor the other. The one I went to for the party wasn't that bad. Nor did I ever claim it was. It just happened to be a crappy neighborhood with a party and later a fight. A few other people started reading way too much into it and claiming crazy shit which really has nothing to do with me or my high school years.
but LOL at MS13 in Ohio. Wherever there's money I guess..
Well yeah, I'm inclined to think that they are just a bunch of Salvadorans who need identification after likely being denied entrance to the various area Hispanic gangs, but you are right on point with the money thing. If you look at a map, it becomes obvious why Toledo is so full of shit; it serves as a nice little rest stop in between Chicago and Detroit, not to mention the proximity to the Canadian border (45 mins or so).
On January 22 2013 03:23 SamsungStar wrote: in America, especially in the South, rich people don't immediately get mauled to death the minute they enter a ghetto. Especially when they know people there and are obviously going to a party. Does shit sometimes happen? Yes. That's why we originally weren't too keen on going to that party. But bitches and drank are a powerful incentive.
On January 17 2013 12:38 Aerisky wrote: Jesus fucking christ, that's ridiculous O_O
What a story....wow. Like... HOLY SHIT. Kind of awesome yet hilarious yet fucked up. That story is just straight-up crazy, definitely sounds like it came out of an insane movie or something lol. But the writing was actually quite interesting, I thought, and I was pretty enthralled the whole way through. Maybe this is Shady trying a narrative in disguise or something, I don't even.
On January 17 2013 11:43 phosphorylation wrote: lol i cant believe i read the whole thing. one of the most entertaining posts in teamliquid. thanks for that and i hope you write more of these.
Yeah, this was more or less my response. Hot dayum.
I can confirm this is not me ><
I'm a prep debater from the burbs, and my dad was an artist
Ah gotcha. But yeah this blog is....just whoaaa. I wonder who OP is, really seems like an alt or a PBU :/
I have a good idea of who SamsungStar is, but I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt since OP reflected a ton of effort.
On January 17 2013 12:38 Aerisky wrote: Jesus fucking christ, that's ridiculous O_O
What a story....wow. Like... HOLY SHIT. Kind of awesome yet hilarious yet fucked up. That story is just straight-up crazy, definitely sounds like it came out of an insane movie or something lol. But the writing was actually quite interesting, I thought, and I was pretty enthralled the whole way through. Maybe this is Shady trying a narrative in disguise or something, I don't even.
On January 17 2013 11:43 phosphorylation wrote: lol i cant believe i read the whole thing. one of the most entertaining posts in teamliquid. thanks for that and i hope you write more of these.
Yeah, this was more or less my response. Hot dayum.
I can confirm this is not me ><
I'm a prep debater from the burbs, and my dad was an artist
Ah gotcha. But yeah this blog is....just whoaaa. I wonder who OP is, really seems like an alt or a PBU :/
I have a good idea of who SamsungStar is, but I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt since OP reflected a ton of effort.
Oh gotcha. Hm, I was too lazy really to ponder who it might be, but JUST now, I had a flash of inspiration as well and everything seems to point toward a certain permed user...not sure if it's the same guy, but yeah, he did put in a lot of effort and has been posting pretty well, so welcome back to him :>
I took some advice, read this as satire and it was awesome.... I would rate it more than a 1 if it wasn't for the fact he was trying to pass this all as unexaggerated word for word truth.
Can't really verify the truthiness of OP's story but the stuff about his dad and gangs in Taiwan sounds not too farfetched, at least based on what my dad told me about growing up in the 60's/70s. Lotta gangs just running around with knives and a lot of corruption.
And I never knew that the Bamboo Gang was an actual thing. I thought it was just thought it was something the wannabe gangstas at my middle school made up lol.
To ZeaL: yep, it sounds crazy to people who weren't there, but it's what my dad told me and he's got the scars to prove it. So do all my family "uncles."
And yeah, Bamboo United is very for real lol. BU and 4 Seas are huuuge.
So I stopped reading at the part with your mom driving you fuck ups around in her Range rover and what I got from the rest was rich kids bankrolling stupid shit.
On February 20 2013 11:48 14fighter wrote: So I stopped reading at the part with your mom driving you fuck ups around in her Range rover and what I got from the rest was rich kids bankrolling stupid shit.
Interesting read real or not. It was pretty interesting with good background story/introductions to each of your friends and stuff before actually starting the story, you should write a novel haha.
can people stop throwing the word *ghetto* around?warsaw was a ghetto,some places in south africa were ghettos. suburban miami is suburban miami.oh and baltimore isnt a ghetto either,its a really poor and violent neighborhood.
Well..alot of the stuff you write would make national news in most european countries. Truth or not, im not going to judge because only you know what is true, it i still remarkably well written and you definatly have talent.
On January 22 2013 05:08 SamsungStar wrote: but LOL at MS13 in Ohio. Wherever there's money I guess..
The Army Ants are everywhere.
On February 20 2013 11:48 14fighter wrote: So I stopped reading at the part with your mom driving you fuck ups around in her Range rover and what I got from the rest was rich kids bankrolling stupid shit.
The amount of money you have has nothing to do with one's ability to fight. But yeah, sometimes, mothers give their children and their children's friends rides. I'm not sure why you found that to be so offensive.
Also, actually, if you're rich, you can easily afford boxing lessons, gym membership, jiu jitsu classes, weapons, etc., all while having more time to actually practice fighting rather than having to hustle for money all day. Food for thought.
^ Yeah, that's exactly it. In ancient times, AKA when people actually fought each other based on physical prowess, the rich were invariably the better fighters. They had the best training/conditioning, the best equipment, the best morale/leadership, etc. The poor and downtrodden (or ghetto nowadays) were the rabble sent out in front to catch arrows with their faces.
Nowadays, the only difference is in the stakes involved. Rich people are more risk averse because they have more to lose, so they tend to shy away from fighting. Poor people have nothing to lose and guns are cheap and easy to get so on a person-to-person level things have swung in their favor. There is nothing that makes them inherently tougher or bad ass than rich people, they're just more willing to engage in non-beneficial activities.
I guess on a macro scale though, rich people still fight better. It's rich nations now who use combat drones and cruise missiles. Money always talks. In the end though, I simply don't understand his logic. What facet of modern society does not involve rich people bankrolling shit?
Having read through the comments just now in one sitting, the OP starts off sounding like he just wanted to share an interesting story and didn't give 2 shits about what anyone's opinions were on whether it was true or not. Overtime he got more and more defensive and now it seems like everyone who questions him must be burned?
On March 10 2013 08:45 Feartheguru wrote: Having read through the comments just now in one sitting, the OP starts off sounding like he just wanted to share an interesting story and didn't give 2 shits about what anyone's opinions were on whether it was true or not. Overtime he got more and more defensive and now it seems like everyone who questions him must be burned?
haha glad you enjoyed. And yeah, looking back, it was a bunch of idiot kids being goof offs. Of course violence is bad and has real consequences, etc, but at the time it was just about being a bad ass and repping your crew lol. Guy stuff. The nunchuks guy was this really fat bald dude, I don't think he even knew how to use them lolol. He was swinging em around being a total tard.
I think most important thing though is my childhood taught me to stand up for myself and assert my dominance. That sort of attitude, when developed at a young age, really leads to great things later on in life. Whereas, I've seen a lot of quiet, submissive types who never come out of their shell go through their entire lives getting stepped on and wondering why they never got the promotion or the invites to fun parties or the hot girls.
On March 10 2013 08:45 Feartheguru wrote: Having read through the comments just now in one sitting, the OP starts off sounding like he just wanted to share an interesting story and didn't give 2 shits about what anyone's opinions were on whether it was true or not. Overtime he got more and more defensive and now it seems like everyone who questions him must be burned?
Throughout the whole story he was consistent in saying that he stands up for himself, albeit in somewhat of an excessive manner. If someone gives him shit, he gives back double. So it's really no surprise that if someone calls him out saying that he's spouting bullshit that he's going to defend himself.
I went back looking for this because I just realized how awesomely unique this story was. Even more fun reading it the third time than it was the first.
Is what i WOULD have said if you werent trying to pretend it was real.
Biggest load of bullshit i have ever read in my life, i could literally dissect everything wrong with it but instead i'll mention one very broad, very obvious fact.
Detail.
How in the fucking world do you remember things so vividly, so clearly, so "to the last blade of grass" that its like it happened 5 minutes ago, when it happened in the 90's? You dont, you cant. Its bullshit. People describe real events based on raw emotion and feelings, they describe lies.
Heres one from me: 5 years ago i was in scotland walking from somewhere (?) to a friends house, it was a few mins from new year (10-30 idk) and wasnt far off, we turned a corner and there were a bunch of dudes there, more then us noticably. We walked past them and soon after i got bottled in the head, i turned around and fought back. Thats all i remember before running away with my friends.
Apparently my friend heard them say "the one in the <colour> hoodie" as we walked past which was me, idk what colour my hoodie was even. The 2 girls who were with us apparently ran off to some random house banged on the door and got let in. - These are just things i were told.
Point being - you dont remember shit that happened so perfectly that it is described as a gospel of awesomeness. Its a well known fact.
But really, i would have loved it if you werent trying so hard to convince people it was true, that just makes it bullshit.
EDIT: Sorry if im rude, but i really hate the way you portray such obvious lying. Also, Ninazerg is alot like you.
On April 25 2013 08:13 Capped wrote: What an awesome story, im glad i read that.
Is what i WOULD have said if you werent trying to pretend it was real.
Biggest load of bullshit i have ever read in my life, i could literally dissect everything wrong with it but instead i'll mention one very broad, very obvious fact.
Detail.
How in the fucking world do you remember things so vividly, so clearly, so "to the last blade of grass" that its like it happened 5 minutes ago, when it happened in the 90's? You dont, you cant. Its bullshit. People describe real events based on raw emotion and feelings, they describe lies.
Heres one from me: 5 years ago i was in scotland walking from somewhere (?) to a friends house, it was a few mins from new year (10-30 idk) and wasnt far off, we turned a corner and there were a bunch of dudes there, more then us noticably. We walked past them and soon after i got bottled in the head, i turned around and fought back. Thats all i remember before running away with my friends.
Apparently my friend heard them say "the one in the <colour> hoodie" as we walked past which was me, idk what colour my hoodie was even. The 2 girls who were with us apparently ran off to some random house banged on the door and got let in. - These are just things i were told.
Point being - you dont remember shit that happened so perfectly that it is described as a gospel of awesomeness. Its a well known fact.
But really, i would have loved it if you we're trying so hard to convince people it was true, that just makes it bullshit.
EDIT: Sorry if im rude, but i really hate the way you portray such obvious lying. Also, Ninazerg is alot like you.
You have a shit memory. It's not a well-known fact that you can't recall details that far; you just pulled something out of your ass and labeled it as known fact. I was three years old in the 1999 so I can't speak for the 90s but there are some days in the early 2000s that I remember perfectly down to the exact wording of the conversations I had. Not even particularly special ones - a 45 minute ESL seminar where I can recall every activity we did that day.
On April 25 2013 08:13 Capped wrote: What an awesome story, im glad i read that.
Is what i WOULD have said if you werent trying to pretend it was real.
Biggest load of bullshit i have ever read in my life, i could literally dissect everything wrong with it but instead i'll mention one very broad, very obvious fact.
Detail.
How in the fucking world do you remember things so vividly, so clearly, so "to the last blade of grass" that its like it happened 5 minutes ago, when it happened in the 90's? You dont, you cant. Its bullshit. People describe real events based on raw emotion and feelings, they describe lies.
Heres one from me: 5 years ago i was in scotland walking from somewhere (?) to a friends house, it was a few mins from new year (10-30 idk) and wasnt far off, we turned a corner and there were a bunch of dudes there, more then us noticably. We walked past them and soon after i got bottled in the head, i turned around and fought back. Thats all i remember before running away with my friends.
Apparently my friend heard them say "the one in the <colour> hoodie" as we walked past which was me, idk what colour my hoodie was even. The 2 girls who were with us apparently ran off to some random house banged on the door and got let in. - These are just things i were told.
Point being - you dont remember shit that happened so perfectly that it is described as a gospel of awesomeness. Its a well known fact.
But really, i would have loved it if you werent trying so hard to convince people it was true, that just makes it bullshit.
EDIT: Sorry if im rude, but i really hate the way you portray such obvious lying. Also, Ninazerg is alot like you.
It's okay. You're completely right. This is the exact reason there's no such thing as the nonfiction memoir.
People describe real events based on raw emotion and feelings, they describe lies with facts.
I am sorry that you can't experience memories in a detail-rich, high-fidelity sort of way.
My memory either sucks, or I don't reflect enough on the past to be able to really experience it in such a concrete way. It makes these accounts interesting.
I tend to experience the past more through the sense of what happened, but the emotions and feelings are extremely dull too. It makes me wonder whether I should start writing diary entries, just to try to ingrain the day-to-day grind of life more into my memory. Otherwise I'm just left with very factual accounts of what happened, alongside random flashes of maybe-memories.
It does mean I'm much more present-living and forward-looking than most, and I don't get bogged down in the past much, if at all, but I constantly feel like I'm losing days. In 60 years, I probably will only know the facts of my own life, and I doubt I'd be able to string together any particular account of an interesting conversation or event that I experienced.
People describe real events based on raw emotion and feelings, they describe lies with facts.
I am sorry that you can't experience memories in a detail-rich, high-fidelity sort of way.
My memory either sucks, or I don't reflect enough on the past to be able to really experience it in such a concrete way. It makes these accounts interesting.
I tend to experience the past more through the sense of what happened, but the emotions and feelings are extremely dull too. It makes me wonder whether I should start writing diary entries, just to try to ingrain the day-to-day grind of life more into my memory. Otherwise I'm just left with very factual accounts of what happened, alongside random flashes of maybe-memories.
It does mean I'm much more present-living and forward-looking than most, and I don't get bogged down in the past much, if at all, but I constantly feel like I'm losing days. In 60 years, I probably will only know the facts of my own life, and I doubt I'd be able to string together any particular account of an interesting conversation or event that I experienced.
Possibly. You might just retain a different set of details from me. Everyone experiences things differently. And communicates them differently. I happen to be a full-time writer, so ofc when writing I'm going to be able to convey alot more details. My writing style has been described as intensely vivid by multiple editors/critics/agents so I tend to interpret that as meaning my writing style/way of viewing the world is rather particular.
On April 26 2013 08:49 Capped wrote: Yeah i can, just mine have emotions attached to them, which make them real.
I really don't understand the point you're trying to illustrate. It has something to do with lies being facts and emotions being truth, but I fail to see the rationale behind the conclusions you're drawing. Then again, at this point, I really don't care whether you believe me or not. So carry on however you'd like. I just thought it'd be impolite of me to ignore your comment.
People describe real events based on raw emotion and feelings, they describe lies with facts.
I am sorry that you can't experience memories in a detail-rich, high-fidelity sort of way.
My memory either sucks, or I don't reflect enough on the past to be able to really experience it in such a concrete way. It makes these accounts interesting.
I tend to experience the past more through the sense of what happened, but the emotions and feelings are extremely dull too. It makes me wonder whether I should start writing diary entries, just to try to ingrain the day-to-day grind of life more into my memory. Otherwise I'm just left with very factual accounts of what happened, alongside random flashes of maybe-memories.
It does mean I'm much more present-living and forward-looking than most, and I don't get bogged down in the past much, if at all, but I constantly feel like I'm losing days. In 60 years, I probably will only know the facts of my own life, and I doubt I'd be able to string together any particular account of an interesting conversation or event that I experienced.
Possibly. You might just retain a different set of details from me. Everyone experiences things differently. And communicates them differently. I happen to be a full-time writer, so ofc when writing I'm going to be able to convey alot more details. My writing style has been described as intensely vivid by multiple editors/critics/agents so I tend to interpret that as meaning my writing style/way of viewing the world is rather particular.
Yeah, if you experience the world so viscerally, it will show through in your writing.
My writing tends to be far more rooted in either dialogue or characters' mindscapes. As far as more physical descriptions, I've always had a difficulty with description beyond the bare minimum; I sketch out the environment just as much as is necessary to track the characters through it, but otherwise default to the readers' imaginations. They probably can fill it in better than I can with my bumbling words.
EPT
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