Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Getting punched in the face: REVIEW

I saw you while I was walking down Manchester Street that one night. I guess we made eye contact on the almost deserted pavement, the scene illuminated by the display lights that shops like leave on so people can I guess go window shopping in 3am insomniawesome dream states or something? Anyway yeah I guess we made eye contact because you asked me what I was looking at and I didn't know so I just said “nothing man, just walking” and I think you didn't like being called man or something because you sure didn't waste time after that. Just straight in with a punch in the face. Your fist a rough circle between my lip, nose and cheek. It was over soon enough but still kinda awkward because you were still there and I didn't really know what to do because well I just wasn't like ever instructed on how to deal with the situation. Would it have been a faux pas to run? Kind of like the first time I had sex with a girl I didn't really know in this respect, confused about the required conduct et cetera, worried. This is not to say I associate the idea of sex and you, dude who punched me. To be honest you strike me as the type who'd make for an overly selfish lover. My lip starting bleeding, like actually pissing blood is probably a good word for it, and you kept staring. Then you ran off and the way you ran stuck me as unnatural – not enough arm movement I think. Kinda just started walking again after that, but seriously, way to do something real weird, punching guy. While I was walking all I could think about was how it would have been totally awesome to know hardout as martial arts and just flipped out and done some like kick to throat sort of thing and just ruined you. Ruined your shit. Or how I could silently follow you and find out where you live and get my friend's Mongrel Mob uncle to go round and scare you with his arms that are bigger than like two normal people's fucking bodies and make you say sorry like a total little bitch. Before you punched me I had just been walking home but also thinking about getting dumped and how I should just take a dive off some crappy bridge or put pencils up my nose and headbutt a wall, and so in this respect you kinda punched me out of myself, onto another track of thought.

So all in all pretty grateful/10, hope the rest of your random punching career goes well but I also kinda hope your dog dies because it really did fucking hurt and I still have a scab / scar type lame thing which looks like a cold sore and is kind of gross.


Anonymous said...


Darian James said...

i heard the mongrel mob's 'spokesman', 'fats', on national radio this morning.
also, the plague years now appears down the side of my blog. how did it get there.